Letters to Fred [CURRENTLY OPEN TO REQUESTS]

Luna

Hello Fred.

Well I say hello, but it's not like you can reply.

Or maybe you can. Can you?

If not, you should try hunting down a blubbering humdinger. They're rather wise. Or an owl.

I've always wondered how owls can understand us, deliver our letters and yet it takes us years to be able to speak in full sentences.

Anyway, although you cannot - as of yet - reply, I was wondering how you're doing. Whether you're happy, sad, angry... Perhaps you were sleeping. If so, sorry for waking you up.

Can the dead sleep?

I know that I didn't know you that well, but I was really rather good friends with Ginny. And she's not doing so good.

No one is doing brilliantly, to be honest. George is acting well. As in, he's not actually, but he's acting as though he's well. His actual acting isn't going so well. 

I was close to my mother when she died. I can only imagine how it must feel for him. So in that respect, to even pretend to be doing well is a pretty big achievement. Honestly, I don't feel responsible for your death (I wasn't there so I couldn't have done anything), although it seems like a rather large shame that it was you; if you're able to read everyone's notes, you'll know that you were loved, liked and cared for by many. If for some reason you're able to read this letter and not the others' (with one possible reason being Dobby stealing all of the others), then you will now know that lots of people love, like and cared for you, and you're missed.

Say hello to Dobby for me, would you? If it weren't for him, I'd be up there with you.

-Luna 

P.S. I know that this is short, but what else is there to say?

P.P.S. I believe that you may have something that repels Nargles, as for some reason they've not taken any of your stuff. I just thought that I'd let you know.