There were several beats of silence as Harry read. The letter was grasped tightly in his hands to the point that his hands were trembling with strain. Harry felt the familiar sting of tears and did a wet cough to disguise a choked sob.

"What's the letter say?" Bill asked. Harry bit his lip and blinked a few times.

Don't cry, don't cry, stop starting to cry. Don't cry, freak! His mind echoed. The last voice suspiciously sounded much less like him and more like his Uncle Vernon. Harry blinked more, sniffling before turning to Bill.

"Um, just.. Fred just talks about.." Harry could hear his voice breaking. His chest was cold and he put the letter in his lap. "He, uh, he wrote about– about.." Hermione moved. She sat next to Harry, and reached for his hand. Harry let out a shuttered breath.

"Sorry," he whimpered. Hermione merely places his hand on her cheek and gave his hand a squeeze.

"You don't have to talk about if you don't want to." She told him. Her voice was gentle, as if she was talking to a scared child. Harry felt a tear escape his eye.

Stop! Stop! Stop!

Ron moved this time. As soon as he saw a tear go down Harry's face he wasted no time getting to him.

"It's okay, Mate. We don't have to know."

"Can we.. can we move on? Please." Harry asked after taking a few more minutes to collect himself. George offered a hesitant smile.

"How about I pick up the story, can't all be about Harry now, can it?" This got Harry to laugh. George took this as permission to go off.

"Okay, so imagine my surprise as Fred just shows up to bed at 2 am with no evidence of pranks or even mischief around the next day!..."