SEPTEMBER 1998

Dear Fred,

     I don't know why I'm writing to you, you'll never read this. I just need to pour my feelings on parchment because I don't know any other way. I think you're the most amazing boy in the whole world, Fred Weasley. My crush from first year won't stop growing into an unexplainable affection. I know there's no way you'd ever be able to love me in return. So I'm sitting here writing these dumb letters as the girl you love sits just steps away trapped in her clueless world acting as if just looking at you doesn't pain every fragment of me. But she doesn't know, no one knows. It kills me, knowing you could never feel the same. I'm sure I'll get over it... I know nothing I do is going to change how you feel. You and her are made for each other and I have to accept that. But it isn't easy for me, watching you fall in love with her. I just hope one day we can both be happy and I don't feel so lonely.

With love,
Marina

It was dated nineteen ninety one, the start of their third year at school. She looked down at the parchment and took a deep breath. It made sense to Rory. But it hurt her deeply. Sure, they were just kids... but her best friend was suffering because of her and she had no idea. Her best friend who was dead now. Rory was unable to say sorry, unable to heal her wounds or fix the past.

"I told you not to open that box," a cold voice said from behind her, his speech slightly slurred.

Rory turned around, still clutching the parchment. George was at the doorway, obviously inebriated. The girl stood up and faced him, crossing her arms to stand her ground.

"It was her dying wish for me to see these, George," Rory sneered.

George scoffed, "Don't act like all of a sudden you care what she wanted and didn't want."

"She loved you, George. She didn't love Fred... this was a stupid schoolgirl crush. Do you actually think —"

"You really didn't know her, Rory." George snapped, raising his voice.

Rory began matching his temper and was now feeling a sense of deep anger towards him.

"Just because I wasn't fucking sleeping with her doesn't mean I didn't know her, George! Do you not think I wasn't affected at all by her death? I'm hurting too! Sorry I don't show it the same way you do!"

George just rolled his eyes, "Save it, Rory. I know you sneak in at night and I know you aren't at your bloody dad's house until three in the morning! His body isn't even cold yet and you're already sleeping around!"

Rory stood in disbelief, shocked at the insinuation of his words. His accusation cut like a knife. How dare he suggest such a thing?

"I can smell it from here," Rory said quietly, trying to swallow her rage, "you reek of whiskey. It's disgusting, George."

"Yes please lecture me on healthy coping mechanisms, Rory!" He spat. "Because you seem just perfect, don't you! No really, tell me how you got over it so quickly! If being a bloody tramp is what it takes then —

He had done it. In his drunken rage he had crossed the line. Rory could feel as her hands balled into fists at her sides and her face got hot with anger. She also noticed she had been holding her wand and for a moment, the power of it brushed across her mind.

"Don't call me that! You don't have the right to call me that! You... you act like you're the only person who's suffering. Well, you aren't! Just because I don't drink my problems away like you —"

"You just run away from them, that's it, right?" He said in an almost patronizing tone.

"I could've run this time, but I didn't for you. Because without me, you'd have gone off the deep end!" She said, getting louder once again.

"I don't need you, Rory!" He shouted.

Rory felt her heart heavy against her ribcage, anger rising up her chest and raking over her heart. Her mind became foggy and all rational thought was gone.

"You know what I don't need? I don't need this!" she waved Marina's letter in the air and crumbled it into a ball, "I don't need you!" she pointed at him with her wand, "And I certainly don't need THIS!" she said firmly, taking her wand in her hand, and snapping it in half.

"Rory what the fuck did you just do?" George asked, almost in a scolding and fatherly way.

The girl had no idea what she had just done, but she knew it was probably a bad idea. But she didn't care. She began grabbing her things, shoving them into a suitcase she kept under her bed. She took what was valuable to her... any gift Fred ever got her, anything from her dad or her brother, all her jumpers from Molly, her book from Remus, the box of Marina's letters... anything that couldn't be replaced. She took her record collection and shoved them in there as well. Luckily she had put an Undetectable Extension Charm on the bag before she broke her wand. She did have her brother's though, but it was best to not use it for complicated magic.

"Seriously, Rory? Running away? How perfectly in character!" George said. She could practically hear the alcohol on his tongue. It was like venom.

She ignored him and threw anything else in, not caring how neatly she did so. Flashbacks of leaving Christine came to her... it was fitting. Both times, she was grieving and both times she was doing what she felt was best for her.

"You can owl me the rest of my shit. That is, if you're sober enough to remember this even happened in the morning you fucking twat!" She shouted as she headed towards the door.

George groaned, "You're such a bitch, Rory!"

She slammed the door shut and left through the shop, leaving Diagon Ally and entering London. She took a bus, a muggle bus, to her dad's.

It was time for a fresh start.