“I took one look at James on the stretcher and burst into tears. I can’t even imagine how it would feel to lose him. We have done everything together since birth and to see my brother laying down on a stretcher pretending to be dead just killed me inside. After James got up and I gave him a huge hug, David said you did great, it was very believable. Then I told him I just thought of it as me and James not Fred and George.” — Oliver Phelps on filming Fred’s death
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Dear Fred,
Mum suggested I write this letter, told me it would make me feel better. I don't see how because you can't see it, and I won't see your reaction to it, but I don't have anything to lose, so here we are.
It's been a year since you died. Everything has changed, yet everything is the same. The joke shop is still going strong. Ron is helping me with it. It's not the same without you, though. He doesn't appreciate my jokes as much as you did.
I miss you so much. I keep thinking about how I never got to say goodbye and tell you I love you. I do love you. I hope you knew that even though we don't say it much.
I'm struggling, Fred. I'm not going to lie. I pretend like I'm okay, I crack jokes, I laugh, but my heart is hurting. I want to touch you, hug you, to hear you laugh again. I keep praying that you're happy, that you're having fun with Tonks, and encouraging Lupin to lighten up. And of course, you're with Dumbledore. It's always a party when he's around.
Do you miss me? Do you ever think of me? Do you wish you were still here with me? Do you remember the good times we've shared? I do. Everyday.
I'll stop writing now. I just wanted to let you know, I love you.
Your partner in crime,
George
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