*Hi.* *Hey.* *How are you?*

None of those are right.

None of this is right.

Writing to my dead brother because a psycho wanted to take over the world, and one of his followers killed the said brother.

It's hard to describe how wrong that it.

I guess that's the point though: the unpredictability of the world is too cruel, and many don't realise it.

The impacts of one individual's decision can create holes in people: both in the mental and physical state.

It's a motivator, in a way. Curse-breaking becomes so much more important when you realise that the wrong curse, when activated, can create a mental and/or emotional hole. A gap that can't be filled.

I'm trying to deal with that gap, because in some ways the amount of siblings we have creates the opportunities for more holes to form.

When you died, a hole was formed.

And this seems so off topic. So impromptu. That's because it is.

My baby girl, Victorie, was born the other day. She's beautiful, really.

But she's also your first niece, and now, you can never meet her.

She'll grow up, hearing about talked of her Uncles wreaking mischief at Hogwarts. That's the problem. She'll hear about it, never see or meet the people.

Either of them.

You're gone. Forever.

George isn't the same, and never will be.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to take such a turn. It just hit me, that you're going to have so many nieces and nephews, and not meet a single one.

I'll write again, I promise.

- Bill.

P.S. I know I said I'd write again soon, and that it's been a while. I'm sorry. I just don't know how to write these things.