I don't own them. I so wish I did.
This is exactly the second entry I've written in this, and it's five years later. A lot has changed.
I don't even know why I'm doing this. I just found it in a box. Just now. I can't believe I packed it. I haven't written since my fifteenth birthday, because I'd just talk to Fred, you know?
Only now I can't. Like I said, a lot has changed.
God, this is so weird. It's going to take a while to get used to. A week ago we went to Hogwarts, me and Fred and Ginny. We were cocky and stupid, sure that we'd live, because why wouldn't we? It was just a big fun game, and anyway, we were used to winning.
Only we didn't. Or, more specifically, Harry did. I didn't. The Weasley's didn't. Because Fred died. He's dead. And he's not coming back.
That's what I've been telling myself for the past week, and it still doesn't make sense. I just keep thinking that he'll jump out from behind a curtain and say it's just another joke. Another prank. And he'd see how scared I was and hug me and swear that we'll be together forever, because we deserve it. Because we're young and smart and brave and how can one of us die?
So you can see that we were a little off base. We paid for it. Fred's dead. I'm not.
I keep remembering that promise. He said it so many times ― we both did ― that we'd be together forever. That nothing could stop us, and we'd grow old and die together. Mum always thought it was stupid. She kept saying that there was no way we could be close forever, that a girl would come between us, or we'd just grow apart.
We didn't. We decided, before we even really understood girls or love, that nothing, especially girls, would come between us. And we both kept that promise. Never even came close to breaking it. We realized, even when we were little, before Hogwarts, that there was something special we had. A bond, an invisible one, that linked us to each other.
Like once, when we were really little, maybe eight or nine, and Fred, being the reckless, stupid, daring person he was, decided that he would get on a broom and fly around. At night. He crashed, of course, ran into a tree and fell off the broom, ended up breaking his leg and his arm. Lucky he didn't break his neck.
I was standing on the ground, watching, second as always. I was the one who attempted to bring him inside, even though my leg and arm hurt me so much I could barely move them. God, it hurt.
It got weaker when we went to Hogwarts, that connection. Not much. Like, if I was concentrating, I could almost feel him inside of me, like a warm, calming presence in the back of my head, just kind of there. But I usually wasn't concentrating. We had a new member in our group. Lee.
He's the one I'm sharing the apartment with, at least for now. I'm thankful, I don't think I could be alone. And Lee understands, I think. Understands that I just can't function very well without Fred. He was part of who I was. Who I still am. Like an arm or a leg that someone just chopped off without warning. Lee knows.
So Hogwarts went by with the three of us as our own little gang. Funny, I look back now and realize that we were popular, or at least we had a large group of people who could stand our jokes the first couple hundred times. And that connection was still there.
I think that might be part of the reason why we were such good Beaters. We made the team the beginning of second year. We could communicate without talking, without really looking at each other, which is part of the strategy for Beaters. You just have to know where every other person on the field is at any given moment, know where all the balls are. It's a good game Quidditch. Perfect for us, requiring more reflex than strategy, more speed and daring and guts than natural-born skill.
But I keep getting off-topic. I don't even remember what I was writing about at the beginning. Just Fred and me, who we are...were. God, he's gone. I can't believe it.
And he wasn't the only one. Lupin and Tonks died too, along with a lot of other people. I just got kind of numb after Fred. Like, it wasn't really happening, you know? I still don't think it's real.
I remember when Fred died. I wasn't there. We split up at the beginning, with me going to the west side of the castle and him going east. I had Charlie, Lee, Katie, and Alicia with me, trying to fight off Death Eaters while closing all the secret passages.
We were right next to the One-Eyed Witch when it happened. Funny that it happened there. That statue helped us out of the school a lot of times. Anyway, Lee told me that I just...collapsed. He hauled me out of there, and I don't really remember anything until I woke up in the Great Hall.
That's a lie. I was always bad at lying to myself. I do remember pain. Like someone was ripping me in two with a pair of salad tongs. You better believe it hurt. And the weird part is that I knew that Fred was dead. I knew, as soon as I woke up, that everything was going to be different, because half of me was gone.
I'll never get used to it. There's no way.
No way I can stand this pain and still be whole. No way I can go through life knowing that for twenty years I always had a person by my side, like an identical shadow that didn't travel behind me but with me, moving where I moved, keeping me company, keeping evil at bay.
How can you live knowing that he's dead and you're not?
I loved Fred. Still do. We were supposed to be together forever. He broke that promise.
Sometimes, I think it would have been easier for me to die too. Maybe then the pain would go away. Except I'd be leaving Ron and Gin and all the rest, and I couldn't do that, not after I saw what happened after Fred.
I miss him.