Quietly, he closed the bedroom door behind him. He carefully started down the stairs, automatically stepping on the left edge of the second step and the right edge of the third. He knew just where to step to avoid making the stairs creak. After three weeks of nightly visits to the kitchen, he could go completely unheard all the way down to the kitchen and back.

He was later than normal tonight, as it took longer for Molly to settle tonight. One month ago tonight, they had lost Fred. Tomorrow there was a memorial planned at the school to honour those who died.

Sighing, Arthur Weasley made his nightly cup of tea. When the tea was prepared, he sat down at the table. He was stubbornly avoiding looking at the magical clock on the wall. He would not look at it tonight. He was determined to resist the urge to sit and stare at it.

He thought back to the morning after Fred died and they all returned to the Burrow.

When they walked in, George went to his room without speaking to anyone. Molly went to the kitchen and began cooking. Hearing her scream, everyone rushed into the kitchen to see what was wrong. Molly stood in front of the clock sobbing. Arthur looked at it. Everyone’s name now pointed to home with one exception, Fred’s. His hand pointed to a new spot labelled Heaven.

No one knew how this had happened or who did it. The clock had been a gift from Molly’s brothers for their wedding. As each child was born, a new hand appeared on the clock. No one gave any thought as to what would happen now that Fred was gone.

Arthur looked down at his cup of tea. He knew he could not resist much longer. Each night, he sat here staring at Fred’s hand on the clock. Turning slightly, he gave in. As always, everyone’s hand pointed to home. Except for… Fred’s. Wait, he thought, where is Fred’s hand?

Standing, he rushed over to the clock. Fred’s hand was not pointing to Heaven, instead, it was pointing to home. Pain clutched at his heart. Who would do this? Who would move the hand? Slowly, he reached out and moved the hand back to Heaven. He walked back and sat down in front of his cup of tea.

Perhaps George had moved it, or Molly? Shaking his head, he knew it was neither of them. George barely left his room, and Molly never even looked at the clock anymore. In fact, she had hinted that maybe it was time to get rid of it.

Glancing back, he noticed the hand was once again pointing to home. He knew without looking around there was no one downstairs with him. Striding over to the clock, he reached up to move the hand back to Heaven again. This time, however, he met with resistance. Though he was able to move it, it was not as easy as the first time. As he pushed the hand, he felt a cold breeze over his hand.

As he let go of Fred’s hand, he watched as the hand moved on its own back to home.

Gasping, he murmured, “Who?”

“Me, Dad,” came the reply from behind him.

Spinning around, Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. “Fred?” he said as he stumbled to the table and sank into his chair.

Fred turned his head slightly so Arthur could see his ear. Reaching up to rub the ear, he said, “The one and only. Surprised to see me?” Fred grinned at him.

“Just a little, considering you are dead,” Arthur said, his voice shaking.

Fred started laughing. “Guess that would make my appearance quite shocking then.” Reaching out, Fred laid a hand on his father’s.

Arthur could feel Fred touching him. He looked down at their hands, then back at his son’s face. He looked exactly the same except for the fact his image was a bit fainter.

“Not that I am not thrilled to see you, but why are you here?” Arthur asked.

At the question, Fred stopped smiling. He looked as if he was about to give someone bad news. “I was given one night to talk to one person from my past. The only condition was it had to be someone who really needed my help.” Fred looked into his father’s eyes. “I picked you, Dad.”

“Me? Why me? You should talk to your mother, or George. They need to see you more than I do.” Arthur started to stand.

Fred’s hand wrapped around his father’s and kept him sitting. “No, Dad. I am here to talk to you and only you.”

“I am fine, son. It is your brother and your mother who need this. They are…”

“They are grieving, as they should be,” Fred said.

“Your brother never leaves your…his room, your mother is either crying or yelling at someone for something little. She is obsessed with knowing where everyone is at all times. Harry and Ron have to check in at least ten times a day when they are out chasing the escaped Death Eaters. She is driving the entire family crazy,” Arthur finished sadly.

“Exactly,” Fred said. “They are grieving. They are going through what they should. “You on the other hand…” Fred looked at his father.

“I am fine.” At Fred’s raised eyebrows, Arthur continued, “So, I come down here at night once your mother falls asleep for a cup of tea. It is about the only time it is quiet with everyone home. I’ve got a lot on my mind, son.”

“I know, Dad. You sit here, night after night staring at the clock. You try to figure out why I died, what you could have done to stop it.” Fred shook his head. “You worry about Mum, and George and everyone else, but you don’t worry about yourself.”

“I am fine,” Arthur said, his voice rising slightly. “Of course I wonder if I could have stopped it. I am your father. I should have been there to protect you. I should have made you go home. It should have been me!” Arthur’s voice rose in anger. “There is no reason you should have died. You had everything going for you, your whole life ahead of you. It’s not right!”

“Dad,” Fred began, his voice low and soothing, “there is a reason it was me and not you. It may not make sense to you, but it had to be me. It had to be then. If I had lived, it may have been Mum who died, or Ginny. Would Mum have been angry enough to kill Bellatrix had I lived?” Fred waited until what he said sunk into his father’s mind.

“There is no justification to why I died. It is just one of those things. It can’t be explained, it can’t be reasoned out. It just is. But, that isn’t even the issue. The issue is you, Dad. You have to let go-”

“I’ll never let go of you, I’ll never…” Arthur’s voice trailed off as he was too angry to speak.

“Not of me, Dad. You have to let go and grieve. You can’t keep taking care of everyone else and pushing your feelings aside. Dad, you need to mourn.”

Arthur looked at his son. How could he tell him he was too scared to give into the feelings of grief he felt? He was scared if he let even the smallest bit of emotion out, he would break into so many pieces, there would be no putting him back together again.

“I am fine,” he repeated for the fourth time. “I am handling everything just fine. Your mother needs me to be strong for her right now. George needs me and so does the rest of the family. Percy blames himself for distracting you, Ron blames himself for not saving you. Harry blames himself for not ending it sooner. Even Hermione blames herself for not being quick enough to prevent the wall from falling on you.”

“Everyone thinks it is their fault. But it is mine and mine alone. I never should have allowed you to be there.”

“Dad, we had to be there. You know that. It wouldn’t have mattered if you tried to send us home. We wouldn’t have gone. I wouldn’t have gone.” Fred took a deep breath, or seemed to.

“Mum needs you, yes. So does everyone else. But how much help will you be to them if you end up in St. Mungos on the locked ward because you bottled everything up inside?” Fred decided it was time for another approach, guilt.

“Do you know George thinks you don’t love him or me?” At his father’s shocked expression, Fred continued, “He thinks you took my death so easily because you never really loved us. And Mum…” Fred let his voice trail off.

“What about your mother? What do you know that I don’t?” Arthur asked anxiously.

“She is so mad at you. Even as she cries in your arms, she is furious with you. Why you ask? She can’t decide. She can’t figure out if you don’t care that I am dead, if you didn’t love me, or if you are just hiding your pain from her.” Fred stopped speaking to let his father think about what he was doing to his family by being the strong one.

“That’s crazy, of course I love you. I love all of you. Doesn’t she realize how much it hurts me losing you?” Arthur asked quietly.

“Actually, no she doesn’t,” Fred replied. “No one realizes that. You never show it, Dad. When was the last time you cried?” Fred waited a moment before he said, “You haven’t cried since the night I died. Don’t deny it, I know you haven’t. And so does Mum.”

Both Fred and Arthur’s eyes quickly darted to the stairs when they heard a noise coming from upstairs. “That will be Mum. You think she is sleeping when you leave her. But, she isn’t, she lays awake waiting for you to come back upstairs. She wonders if she should come down here and force you to talk to her.” Fred’s eyes strayed to the stairs again. “Dad, do you remember when Ginny was born? You used to take us to watch Bill and Charlie playing Quidditch out in the meadow.” When Arthur smiled, Fred smiled back.

“Do you remember the day I asked you about the sky?”

Arthur thought back to that day.

Arthur sat in the grass under a tree watching his two oldest sons playing their version of Quidditch. Sitting on his lap was three year old Fred and George sat next to him. Percy sat a small distance away reading a book. The twins watched in awe as their brothers flew around the meadow.

“Daddy, can they touch the sky?” Fred asked.

“No, their brooms won’t go that high, son,” Arthur answered.

“Do any brooms reach the sky?”

“No, Fred, you can’t reach the sky with a broom.” Arthur loved these times with his sons. They never failed to amaze him with the questions they asked.

“How do you touch the sky, Daddy? I want to touch it,” Fred said.

Arthur thought for a moment before answering. “Do you remember what we told you about your uncles? How they died and went to Heaven?”

Nodding his head, Fred said, “You said they are angels now.” Fred’s face showed pride that he remembered.

“Yes, they are angels. Only angels can touch the sky, son. Someday, a long time from now, you will be an angel and you will be able to touch the sky,” Arthur said. He hoped Fred understood what he was telling him.

After a moment, Fred nodded before saying, “I will touch the sky, Daddy. Someday.”

There were tears in Arthur’s eyes as he shook the memory off. “I remember,” he said simply.

Fred looked towards the stairs. Standing, he went over to the clock. “Mum will be down here in a minute. Talk to her, Dad. Lean on her for a while.” He reached out and moved his hand to Heaven.

“I can touch the sky, Dad,” he said as he faded away.

*”You actually are joking, Perce… I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were-”

Sitting straight up in bed, Percy Weasley took a shaky breath. It was only a dream, he thought to himself. Only a dream.

Night after night, he had the same nightmare. Night after night, he awoke just as the wall came crashing down. Night after night, he tried to convince himself it was only a dream.

Percy wiped the tears from his eyes before standing. He quietly opened his bedroom door and carefully walked downstairs to the kitchen. He made his nightly cup of tea and sat at the table to drink it.

A nightly ritual he had started after George moved out. He thought back to that day.

They had gone to the memorial for the fallen at Hogwarts, one month after the Battle. When they returned home, George had gone to his room. This was nothing unusual as he spent all his time in his room since Fred died.

A week later, George had come down for breakfast and announced he was moving back to the apartment he and Fred had shared above Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Of course, Mum cried and tried to stop him. But, in the end, Dad had convinced Mum it was probably for the best. His reasoning had been if George could open the shop again, then perhaps he could start living again.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t worked out that way. The shop was still closed, and George hadn’t been home in the month since he moved out.

He had moved back to the Burrow after the Battle. He felt he needed to be here for his family, for his mum and dad. Since it was his fault Fred had died, it was the least he could do. And now with George never around, it was even more important he be here.

“Are you ever going to stop blaming yourself?” came a voice from the shadows.

Startled, Percy jumped to his feet, spilling his tea across the table. He had always been able to distinguish the twin’s voices. This voice however, sounded suspiciously like Fred. But… Fred was gone.

“You better clean that mess up before Mum sees it,” said the voice chuckling.

“George, go back to bed. I want to be alone,” Percy said sternly. He was so deep in his thoughts, the fact George no longer lived here didn't even occur to him.

“Wrong on both accounts,” came the voice as Fred stepped from the shadows. “You don’t want to be alone, and it’s me, not George. See,” Fred said as he turned his head, “both ears firmly in place.”

Percy sank back into his chair. He had finally lost his mind. He was going crazy; Fred was gone.

“You can’t be here, you’re…” Percy stuttered.

“Dead. Say it: Fred is dead.” Fred laughed at his rhyme and the look of horror on Percy’s face. “I am here because for some strange reason, my family just can’t live without me.” Fred once again laughed at the look that crossed Percy’s face.

“Now,” Fred said as he sat down next to Percy, “do you want to tell me why you think my dying was all your fault?”

“Because if you weren’t looking at me, focusing on that one stupid joke I made, you would have seen the wall falling. You would be alive.”

Fred reached out and patted Percy’s shoulder. “No, I wouldn’t. It was my time. Everything worked out the way it was supposed to.”

“It should have been me. I should have been the one who died,” Percy said sternly.

“Oh, that would have been just wonderful. Perfect Percy sacrifices himself for his brother. One more thing you could add to your list of accomplishments,” Fred answered angrily. “You can’t face someone else having a bit of glory, can you? It has to always be about you, doesn’t it?”

“No…no, that isn’t it. That isn’t what I meant,” Percy said shocked. “Mum and Dad were used to me not being around. It would have been easier for them if it had been me. I deserved to be the one after what I put them through.”

Fred looked at Percy. “Do you really believe that?” he asked sadly. “Do you honestly think losing you would have been any easier?”

“Yes, I do,” Percy replied totally sincere.

Fred heard the belief in his statement. Shaking his head, he wondered what he could say to make him understand it was not his time.

“Perce, it wasn’t meant for you to die. It wasn’t meant for any of you to die. It was my time. Had I not died, perhaps Ginny would be dead or Mum. Think about it, would Mum have had the anger to stop Bellatrix if I hadn’t died?”

“It would have worked out the same if it had been me,” Percy insisted.

“Perce, quit being a prat. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t Ron’s, Hermione’s or Harry’s fault either. It was Voldemort’s fault, plain and simple. Trying to change that or to feel guilty because you lived is not what you need to be doing.” Fred looked at his brother.

“But, George…” Percy began, “George can’t even stay in the same house as me. He hasn’t even been home since he moved out. Even he blames me.”

“It isn’t you who George blames,” said Fred. “He blames himself. Seeing you, knowing you think it is your fault, only makes him feel more guilty.” Fred reached out and squeezed his brother’s arm.

“You know I am right, so for once in your life, listen to me,” Fred said as he stood up. “Go back to bed, Percy. Convince yourself this was all a dream. But remember one thing, if you don’t stop blaming yourself, you are going to miss out on a lot of life.”

Fred walked over to the clock, he reached up and moved his hand back to heaven. Percy watched him without saying anything. When Fred looked back at him, he realized perhaps his brother was right.

“Fred, are you happy?” he asked.

“Funny how life works, isn’t it?” he asked ignoring Percy’s question.

“Funny how?” Percy asked confused.

“You turned your back on us, and then came back. You were of course welcomed with open arms as only this family can do. Then within minutes, Mum had lost another son. Only this time, I can’t come back. Mum got one son back and lost another. It isn’t fair, but it is life.”

“When did you get so smart?” Percy asked.

“I was always smart. We just let you take the glory so we could enjoy life,” Fred answered. “It was more fun to get attention for having fun then for being a pompous …” Fred started to laugh at the look of outrage on Percy’s face.

“Things have a way of working out the way they are supposed to. If Voldemort hadn’t killed Harry’s parents, he may not have been able to kill him in the end. If Dumbledore hadn’t died, perhaps Harry wouldn’t have gone off to find the Horcruxes.

“Some things just have to be. My dying then was one of those things. It wouldn’t have mattered who was there, or what any of you had done, it was my time to go.” Fred smiled at Percy. He hoped something he said was getting through to his thickheaded brother.

“Listen, I have to go. Don’t forget to clean up that mess.” Fred threw a towel at Percy. “And remember, Perce, it was never your fault. It happened. Oh, by the way, yeah, I’m happy.”

It was just after midnight and he was again walking through the Muggle streets of London. He hadn’t been sleeping much since that night.

He moved back to the apartment over the shop just over a month after the Battle. He couldn’t bear to see the pain in his mum’s eyes when she looked at him. He couldn’t stand the pitying glances the rest of his family gave him whenever he ventured out of his bedroom.

So, he left. He hadn’t opened the shop back up yet. He couldn’t bear to think of going on inventing things without Fred. How could he?

He thought about what his life was like now, day after day. He got up, made a cup of tea while he waited for Pig to arrive. Every morning like clockwork, Pig would tap on his window at eight o’clock.

There would be a note from someone in his family. His mum asking him to come for dinner; his dad asking him to stop over and see his mother; Ginny wanting to know when he was going to come home, she missed him. Every day came a new note. Every single day for the past three weeks without fail. His family was not accepting his leaving home easily.

He would read the note, give Pig some water and owl treats while he sent back a note he would stop by one day soon. He’d tie it to Pig’s leg, send him on his way then get ready for another day.

He would brush his teeth and comb his hair. This he did without a mirror as his first morning back in the apartment, he tore it off the wall and smashed it into a million pieces. He had looked into it and saw Fred, not himself. He didn’t look at anything now that would show his brother’s face to him.

He would get dressed then go down to the shop walking to the door. He would reach for the sign to turn it to open and stop. Dropping his hand, he would retreat back upstairs to sit and brood.

Sometime during the day he would force himself to eat. It didn’t matter what, just so if asked he could say he was eating. At eleven o’clock every night, he would go into bed. At midnight, he would be walking the lonely deserted streets of London.

He would walk for a few hours while lecturing himself about opening the shop. He would go back to the apartment vowing the next day, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes would again be open for business.

The next day, it would start all over again.

It had been three months, in some ways a lifetime, in others seconds. He couldn’t believe he was alone now. He had always been part of Fred and George, George and Fred, never one mentioned without the other. Now he was George, just George.

He stopped, turned and started walking back the way he came. He wasn’t in the mood to wander tonight. Perhaps he would have a drink at The Leaky Cauldron and call it an early night.

He wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings when a voice came from a darkened doorway.

“Hey, just George, how come you are letting our stuff go to waste?”

George froze in his tracks. He knew that voice; he turned quickly and peered into the darkness that surrounded the voice.

“Fred?” he asked.

“Who else? Mind if I walk with you for a bit?” Fred asked. George heard the unmistakable sounds of chuckling coming from the shadows. “Don’t look so shocked, brother dear, did you think I wouldn’t find a way to talk to you? To keep an eye on you?”

“But you're… you're…”

“Dead, yeah, I am aware of that. I would have been here sooner to see you, but even in Heaven there are rules and paperwork to do to be able to come back even for a few hours.”

George watched as Fred strode out of the shadows. He had a bit more substance than Nearly Headless Nick, but he was still fainter than a live person.

He looked exactly like he had in life with the exception of the faintness. George didn’t know if he had finally lost his mind, or if this was real.

“You haven’t lost your mind,” said Fred to a surprised George. “I am really here but only you can see and hear me.”

“I didn’t say that. I only thought it,” said George.

Fred laughed. “One of the many benefits of being dead. I can hear your thoughts. But, we always knew what the other was thinking anyway, didn’t we?”

George started walking again, Fred in step beside him. “So, why haven’t you opened the shop back up? I would think now would be the perfect time to cash in on everyone’s relief it is over.” Fred looked genuinely puzzled.

“I just can’t. It isn’t the same without you. I can’t do this alone,” George said.

“You are not alone. Lee has been by the shop everyday.” At George’s shocked look and shake of his head, Fred smiled. “He has been there everyday, cleaning up and restocking. He hasn’t actually opened the shop for business and he never lets you know he is there, but he is. And Ron wants to help, he just doesn’t know how to ask.”

“Lee? I didn’t… I never…”

“You wouldn’t, would you? You don’t even look around the shop in the morning. You come down and stand at the door then go right back upstairs to brood. You are hiding and moping. It isn’t befitting a Weasley to hide; it isn’t befitting a Weasley twin to hide,” Fred said morosely.

“What the hell do you know?” asked George angrily. “You could never understand. I am not a Weasley twin anymore, am I? You left me here alone! You abandoned me!” George shouted. He was so angry he didn’t think about anyone seeing him, he just turned and Apparated away from Fred, away from the pain.

His eyes had barely focused on the fact he was back in his apartment when he saw Fred sitting on the sofa.

“I didn’t abandon you. I never would have left you alone if I had a choice,” Fred said sadly. “And just so you know, I do understand. I am alone, too. Do you know how many times I turn to tell you something and you aren’t there? Can you imagine how hard it is to have so many ideas for jokes and no one to share them with?” At George’s raised eyebrows, Fred chuckled. “Yes, I guess you do. Some boat we are in, isn’t it?”

George dropped down to the sofa next to his brother. How many nights had they sat here making plans? he wondered.

“You said something about Ron. What about him? He is off helping Kingsley catch the remaining Death Eaters; he, Harry and Neville.”

“I know,” Fred began, “but he wants to help you here. He just doesn’t know what to say to you. He blames himself, as do Harry, Hermione and Percy. Percy blames himself the most, though.” Fred’s face showed his shock at this.

“Why would they blame themselves? I should have been there, it is my fault,” said George.

Fred stood up quickly, his anger radiating off him even though his form was less than human. “I wish everyone would STOP blaming themselves. Did you knock the wall onto me? Did they? NO!” He took what to George seemed to be a calming breath. “It happened. Nothing can change that. It was just the way it had to be. Don’t argue with me. Everything for a reason, bro. Everything... even this.”

George looked up at his brother. He didn’t know how long he had with him, but he didn’t want to waste it with guilt and arguments.

“So, any cute girls up there?” George asked with a smile on his face.

Fred sat back down next to George. “I haven’t had much time to look,” he replied. “I’ve been a bit busy keeping an eye on you.” Fred held up his hand to stop George’s apology. “I haven’t spent all my time watching you though, I have spent some time with the greatest pranksters that ever walked the halls of Hogwarts.”

“The Marauders,” George said in awe.

“Well, three of them anyway,” Fred said. “I think once I get back, I will be made an unofficial Marauder. I think I proved I could prank with the best of them.”

“What did you do?” asked George.

“I was able to switch Remus’ and Tonks’ room with James’ and Lily’s. I know doesn’t sound impressive. Well, Tonks and Lily were getting ready for bed at the time. Needless to say when James walked in on Tonks, and Remus on Lily, there was a lot of screaming.” Fred’s laughter rang through the apartment. George’s laughter, rough sounding from misuse, joined his.

Fred looked at the clock on the wall. “I need to go. But I want you to do a couple things for me.” Fred looked at George and waited for his nod of assent. “Go home for dinner tomorrow. Mum needs you, so does Dad. Everyone needs to see you. It won’t be easy for some time, but you have to do it. I also want you to open the shop again... tomorrow. The world needs our shop.”

“I can’t,” said George said shaking his head. “It’s too soon.”

“No, it isn’t. And yes, you can. You need to do this for yourself. And if for no other reason, do it for me.” Fred stood. He looked down at his brother sitting on the sofa. “I won’t be able to come back and see you again. This was a one-shot deal. But, I will be watching. I will never be far from you. I am part of you.”

With this, Fred disappeared. George sat and looked at the spot Fred had last stood. He was unaware of the passage of time. The tapping on the window startled him. Going over, he opened it and let Pig in. He took the note, this one from his mum and for the first time, wrote a response that said,

I’ll be there when I close the shop.

Love, George

The house was quiet at this time of night. Charlie Weasley sat at the kitchen table sipping on a cup of tea. He knew he had to go back to Romania and to his dragons, but he was torn because he knew that his mum also needed him here. But he missed his dragons.

He wondered that if he hadn’t been so far away, if he had been here when the fight started, if he could have made a difference. Could he have saved Fred?

It was almost four months since they had lost Fred. Later today, they would be taking Ginny and Hermione to the station to go back to Hogwarts. Ron was off with Harry working for Kingsley to round up the renegade Death Eaters. George was living above his shop since it was open again.

Percy was still living here at the Burrow and working at the Ministry, which was now under Kingsley’s guidance. Bill dropped by several times a week to check on Mum. He was content to stay at Shell Cottage with Fleur and work at Gringotts.

Charlie was the only one at loose ends. Even Dad had gone back to work. He wanted to go back to his dragons, but with Ginny leaving, he worried about his Mum being here alone all day.

“Go back to your dragons,” came a quiet voice from the shadows.

Charlie whipped his head around at the sound of the voice. A voice he hadn’t heard in so long but knew instantly.

“So it wasn’t a dream Percy had,” he said smiling.

“A dream? No, it wasn’t. I figured he would say it was, though. I am surprised he even told you,” said Fred as he walked out of the shadows and approached Charlie.

Charlie stood and embraced his brother. “He only told me when I found him sitting here, half a bottle of Firewhisky on the table and the other half in him.” Charlie sat back down, still smiling. “He told me he had the craziest dream the night before.”

“As you can see, it wasn’t a dream. Unless… you are now having the same dream,” said Fred chuckling.

“Nope, I’m wide awake. Even if I wasn’t, that hug would have woken me up,” Charlie said as he shuddered.

Laughing, Fred shook his head. “I bet you are wondering why I am here?”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” said Charlie. “I am also wondering who else you have visited.”

“I was originally given one visit to come back and talk to one person who needed to see me. I choose Dad because he seemed to need me the most,” Fred answered shaking his head. “But it became clear that each of you needed me. It seems as if no one in this family can move on because each of you feels guilty. So, as each of you really needs to see me, I can come back for an hour or so to talk to you.”

“So, you’ve seen Dad and Percy. But, what about George and Mum? I think they need you the most.”

“I’ve seen George. And it isn’t time for me to see Mum yet. I really don’t get to choose who or when. It’s hard to explain. I just get this feeling and then I am here,” said Fred, shrugging his shoulders.

“Now it is your turn. You think if you had been here it would have turned out differently?”

“Yes, it may have. If I had been with you…”

“But you wouldn’t have been with me. You would have been in some other part of the castle fighting Death Eaters. Just as Dad was, just as George was. We all were separated doing what needed to be done. You probably would have been out with Hagrid rounding up creatures to fight.”

“I guess I would have,” said Charlie solemnly.

“You also feel guilty because you are here and want to be with your dragons,” said Fred knowingly. “You need to go back to Romania, Charlie.”

“But Mum…” said Charlie.

“Mum will be fine. Dad is still here and Percy…”

“Neither of them are here during the day. She will be here alone,” said Charlie worriedly.

“She is here alone most of the year and has been since Ginny started school.”

“But it’s different now. She has lost a son, she shouldn’t be alone,” said Charlie.

“Is it really Mum you are worried about, or are you scared to go back to Romania where… you’ll be alone?” asked Fred.

Charlie looked at Fred in shock. Of course it was Mum he was worried about, he thought. Why would his being alone worry him? He had been alone with just his dragons for years.

Fred smiled knowingly. “It isn’t really Mum at all, is it?” he asked gently.

Charlie shook his head. “No, I guess it isn’t,” he said quietly.

“Here you can concentrate on Mum. You don’t have to face your own grief. But, in Romania, with just your dragons for company, you will have to face it, won’t you?” asked Fred. “You’ll have to face the fact you lost a brother.”

“I…I know what I have lost…what this family has lost,” said Charlie, angrily.

“Do you? I guess you do, but have you really let yourself feel what you have lost? I’m not talking about what the family lost, but what you have lost?” Fred stopped and waited for Charlie to think about what he said.

“You lost a brother. And even though you lost him, you still have to look at him whenever you see George. You have a constant reminder of me in him.”

Charlie looked at Fred. “I could always tell the difference between you, even before the lost ear. You never looked exactly the same to me,” he said. “Not even when you claimed to be George when I caught you at three years old trying to ride my broom.”

“You knew it was me?” asked Fred shocked.

“Of course I knew it was you. When I asked you what you thought you were doing, do you remember what you told me?” asked Charlie.

“I told you I wanted to touch the sky,” Fred said. “Funny, it was that memory I talked to Dad about when I saw him three months ago.”

“You talked to Dad about stealing my broom?” Charlie asked.

“No, I talked to him about the day Ginny was born and a conversation I had with him while we watched you and Bill playing Quidditch, or rather, when you two were trying to play Quidditch.” Fred laughed at the look of outrage in Charlie’s face.

“We were playing Quidditch. You were just too little to appreciate our method of play.”

Fred began laughing and Charlie soon joined him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” said Charlie.

“Why didn’t you sign the contract to play professionally? You could have gone far playing Quidditch. Why dragons?”

“It really wasn’t much of a choice. Not really. I loved playing Quidditch, but dragons… I guess I just loved them more.” Charlie was surprised by the question. No one had ever asked him that before. Not in that way. Sure, Mum and Dad hadn’t understood why he would choose a dangerous career of dragon taming over Quidditch, but they never asked why he picked the dragons.

“So why are you still here and not with your dragons?” Fred asked.

“Because Mum…” Charlie stopped when Fred held up his hand. “Okay, I don’t know. Maybe you are right. It is easier being here surrounded by the memories and everyone else’s grief. If I leave…if I leave then I will only have my own memories and my own grief. I just don’t know if I am ready for that.” Charlie shook his head.

“You are ready. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have been sitting here missing your dragons. Mum will be fine, Charlie. You need to go back to your life. To face your grief and move on.”

“How can I move on? How can I just go back to Romania and live life knowing you are not here? How can I go back and know I can’t just come home and see you?” Charlie wiped impatiently at the tears that had started falling.

He was shocked by the tears and a bit embarrassed. He had cried over Fred’s death, the whole family did. He had grieved in his own way, in private. To have tears falling now, and in front of Fred…

Fred reached out and placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. He hated to see his brother, his idol for his entire life, hurting, but he knew the tears were a good thing.

“Charlie, can I tell you a secret?” he asked as he pulled his hand back.

Charlie nodded, wondering what on earth Fred wanted to confess.

“I always looked up to you. I was in awe of Bill, off in Egypt, working as a curse-breaker. But, you… I guess you could say, I idolized you. You had it all. The best Quidditch player in school, smart without showing it, and brave enough to take dragons on. If I could have been anyone, I would have wanted to be you,” Fred said.

Charlie’s face showed his surprise. He had never expected to hear something like that from Fred.

“Go back to your dragons, Charlie. They need you more than Mum does. And you need them more than you need to be here.” Fred stood to leave.

“Will Mum really be okay if I leave?” Charlie asked uncertain.

“Yes, though she will try to keep you here. Deep down, she knows you belong with your dragons. She knows they make you happy.” Fred walked towards the shadows by the clock.

“When you get back there, don’t fight the memories, Charlie, the good or the bad. You need to remember all of them to move on, to live.”

Charlie nodded to Fred. As he watched, Fred began to disappear.

“Oh, and Charlie, try to find a nice girl out there in Romania. There is more to life than dragons.” Fred’s laughter lingered in the shadows for a moment, before fading away.

Charlie laughed at Fred’s words. He always had to have the last word. Charlie stood and went to the sink. Washing his cup out and putting it away, he thought about what Fred had said as he walked up to his room.

He knew there would be no girl for him. His life was his dragons, which he would return to soon. First, he had to make sure Mum was okay once Ginny went back to school.

Bill Weasley got carefully out of bed as he did every night for the past few months. He moved silently across the room and out the door. Within a few minutes, he was sitting at the kitchen table at Shell Cottage with a cup of tea liberally laced with Firewhisky.

He sat there, holding the cup between his hands, staring into its depths wishing for an answer to the one question he couldn’t answer.

Why did Fred have to die? he thought, not for the first time in the five months since The Battle.

“Because it was my time,” came a voice from the shadows of the kitchen.

Bill jumped to his feet. The voice sounded a lot like Fred, but it couldn’t be. Either someone had gotten into the cottage and was playing a cruel joke, or he was losing his mind. He reached down patting the pocket of his robe for his wand.

“It’s upstairs on your nightstand where you always keep it at night,” said the voice again. “And you are just as sane as you always were; though, that isn’t saying much since you are a Weasley.” Fred stepped from the shadows and closer to Bill.

“George?” Bill asked, though he knew it wasn’t. Fred shook his head. “Fred?” Bill asked, shock and disbelief in his voice.

“Can’t get anything past you, now can I?” asked Fred as he sat down at the table. Bill continued to stand where he was. “Why don’t you sit down before you fall over or I get a crick in my neck looking up at you. Wait, can I even get a crick in my neck now?” he asked as he twisted his head side to side and up and down.

Bill sat down in the chair and took a large gulp of his tea. As the tea burned his throat, he continued to stare at the brother he thought would never to see again.

“Don’t look so shocked, bro. Did you think a little thing like dying would keep me away from one of my family when they are hurting?” Fred asked.

“I…I don’t understand. How are you here?” Bill asked.

“Why is it the first question I am asked is either 'how are you here' or 'why are you here'?” Fred said as he smiled. “To answer both questions, I am here because you needed to see me.”

“Is that the answer for question one or question two?” Bill asked. He picked up his tea again and took a small sip. He knew it wasn’t the Firewhisky making him think he was having a conversation with his dead brother. Until this hallucination started, he hadn’t even had a mouthful.

“Both and I am not a hallucination. I may not be alive, but I am very real.” Fred told him. Fred reached out and placed his hand on Bill’s shoulder. He watched as Bill jumped and then shuddered.

“Okay, so you are real, so to speak…but why are you here?” Bill asked.

“Let’s see, you are sitting here in the middle of the night alone while your very pretty wife is upstairs asleep alone. Do we see a problem with that?” Fred asked seriously.

“So, I came down for a cup of tea…”

“Laced with Firewhisky,” finished Fred.

“Fleur is asleep…”

“Alone,” Fred again finished his sentence.

“Godric, that is annoying. How did George stand it?” asked Bill, his tone sounding a bit aggravated.

Fred laughed. “Never thought about it, it was just something we always did. We always knew what the other was thinking and it was natural to finish each other’s sentences. You are just upset because you know I am speaking the truth,” Fred said smugly.

“That’s neither here nor there. Why are you here?” asked Bill again.

“I told you, because you dear brother, are driving yourself crazy wondering why. There is no why. It just is. It is just the way it was supposed to be,” answered Fred.

“But why? Why is it just the way it was supposed to be?” asked Bill sounding like a questioning three year old.

Fred sighed. For the first time in all his visits to his family, he wished for a Muggle tape recorder. It seemed as if he kept having to answer the same questions over and over again. At least Bill hadn’t yet said it should have been him, though Fred knew it was coming.

“It was just my time,” said Fred simply. “And before you even say it, it shouldn’t have been you, and you couldn’t have stopped it even if you were there.”

“So now you can read minds?” asked Bill.

“Only some things, like when you were wondering why. That was what brought me here, your unspoken question. I just have gotten the same question and the same guilt from Dad, Percy, George and Charlie. I know you are feeling the same way.” Fred looked at Bill daring him to deny it.

“For your information, I don’t think it should have been me. I don’t think it should have been any of us. I knew there would probably be deaths, but I had hoped…” Bill let his sentence trail off.

“You had hoped after everyone we had already lost, we wouldn’t lose anyone else,” said Fred. Bill nodded. “The odds were against us. You need to be thankful no one else was killed. It could have been so much worse.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” asked Bill angrily. “I know we could have lost more. I watched as Mum battled Bellatrix and took her down. I stood by and watched as Harry battled Voldemort, alone in the middle of the Great Hall. I did nothing to help either of them.”

“You weren’t meant to. Mum wouldn’t have let anyone help her. Yes, I saw her fighting Bellatrix. And Harry had to fight Voldemort by himself; it was the way it was meant to be.”

“So, what you are saying is everything in our lives is already set? Nothing can be done to change it?” asked Bill, his voice still held a note of anger.

“Yes… and no. Fate is a funny thing. Some things, bigger things, are destined, but little things can change that destiny, for better or for worse,” Fred told him.

“You sound like Dumbledore,” Bill said smiling.

“Well, I’ve spent some time talking to him about all this when I first got there,” Fred said.

“Guess that means you did go to Heaven. Always wondered if you would…” said Bill as he began laughing.

“What do you mean, if I would?” asked Fred shocked.

“Well, all your pranks… You can’t tell me they were all ‘for the greater good’.” Bill said still chuckling. “Like your trick on Harry’s cousin… Ton-Tongue Toffee, wasn’t it?”

Fred looked at his brother and realised he was right. “Okay, so maybe the toffee was a bit much, but he deserved it,” Fred said defensively almost daring his brother to disagree with him.

“Yeah, I guess he did. So, I am guessing you are here with some sage advice for me, some words of wisdom to make me see your death in a different light?” asked Bill.

“I can’t make you think differently about my death. After all, I wouldn’t want you to start thinking it was a good thing,” said Fred. “It wasn’t, but it was…”

“Meant to be,” finished Bill smiling.

“Good job,” said Fred smiling back at his older brother. “Listen, you need to realise what happened, happened. Nothing can change it, and sitting here alone half the night, every night questioning it is only going to drive you insane. Let it go,” Fred told him.

Bill sat quietly looking at his brother. Fred could tell he was thinking about what he had said. He had always figured Bill would be the easiest to convince and to make understand. Of course, deep down, he hadn’t expected to have to visit him at all.

When he heard Bill’s thoughts run through his mind, he was surprised. He had expected those he had already visited to need him. He knew he would eventually have to visit his mum, but he never expected to have to visit Bill.

“I’m not sure I will ever truly understand the why, but I guess I can let it go. I’ll never… I’ll never let you go, though,” Bill said sadly. “Not a day will go by that I don’t miss you and know something is missing in my life.”

Fred didn’t know if ghosts could cry, but he felt what could only be tears well up in his eyes. He stood quickly, knowing if he didn’t leave, he would embarrass both of them.

“Listen, you have a gorgeous wife upstairs, and a wonderful life ahead of you, don’t waste it on the whys or living in the past. Life goes on, and this family needs to go on,” Fred said as he stood there looking down at his oldest brother.

“Go back to bed, Bill. And tomorrow, try just enjoying the day and…” Fred’s voice trailed off as he walked deeper into the shadows. “Try finding something else to do with your nights other than sitting down here drinking tea.”

Bill heard his laughter fade away as he shook his head. Leave it to Fred, to make sure he had the last laugh, he thought as he stood. Placing his cup in the sink, he went up to his wife and for the first time in a long time, looked forward to the next day.

He stood in the shadows listening to her soft sobs. He never expected to be here, listening to her crying over him. The fact that she of all people would shed tears over him had him hesitating from revealing himself.

With the other members of his family, it was easy. Though she wasn’t family by blood, she was family. She was also the most logical and smart person besides Bill that he knew.

Seeing her curled into a ball on her favourite chair in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, broke his heart. When he heard the crying and sensed he was needed again, and where, he expected to find Ginny. Instead, he found Hermione.

Well, nothing for it, he thought as he stepped out of the shadows. He walked slowly across the common room and knelt down in front of Hermione.

“There was nothing you could have done,” he said gently.

Hermione lifted her face and looked at Fred. He heard her gasp and then saw her look to his ears. Seeing them both firmly in place, her eyes widened.

Fred chuckled as he reached a hand up to rub his ear. “Why is it that is the first thing everyone looks for when I show myself?”

“Fred,” she said, her voice shaking. She reached up to wipe the tears from her face, but Fred was quicker. As his hand touched her cheek, she shivered.

“Sorry, I keep forgetting…I must feel like Nearless Headless Nick to you,” he said as he gave her a small smile.

“I don’t understand,” she said, “why are you more solid than he is?”

Fred chuckled, leave it to Hermione to be logical first. “I guess because I am not an earthbound ghost. I really don’t know. I’ll have to ask Dumbledore when I get back.”

Fred stood and sat on the arm of the chair. “So, do you want to tell me why you were crying or do you want me to guess?” he asked.

When she didn’t answer, Fred continued, “You are feeling guilty because you couldn’t save me. You didn’t do anything to protect me when the wall fell.” Fred knew from the expression on her face, he had guessed correctly.

“Hermione, there was nothing you could have done. What if by saving me, Harry or Ron was killed? Or even Percy? Everything worked out the way it was supposed to,” he said.

Looking around the common room, Fred smiled.

“Hermione, do you know what I think of when I look around here? Do you know what I remember?” he asked.

“No, what do you remember?” Hermione asked. She was glad that for now, the topic had changed from her guilt to something else.

“I remember you telling George and me off for testing our products on first-years. I remember celebrating with Harry during the Triwizard Tournament, I remember celebrating into the wee hours of the morning after each Quidditch win. That is what I remember sitting here.” Fred stood and began walking around the common room.

“If I were to walk the halls, I would remember other good times,” he said. “If I went down to the Entrance Hall, I would think about you telling me the Aging Potion wouldn’t work,” he said and began laughing.

“They were nice beards,” said Hermione smiling. “It was like looking at the…the future.” Her voice trailed off as tears again began sliding down her face.

“Hermione,” Fred said as he came back around the chair and sat on the arm again, “don’t you see? My life may not have been long enough to grow that beard for real, but it was a good life. I had fun, I had my family, and I had you and Harry in my life. Who could ask for more?”

“But if I had been quicker…” Hermione said, her voice trailing off.

“No one saw the wall falling, there wasn’t anything you or any of us could have done to stop it,” Fred said.

“A cushioning charm…”

“Wouldn’t have worked and if you took the time to cast one, maybe you would be dead,” Fred said, shaking his head. “You weren’t meant to die that night, you had other things to do.” Fred smiled knowingly.

“But, you had things to do, too,” she said, tears welling in her eyes again.

“Hermione,” Fred said quietly, “I did more with my life than most wizards do if they live to as old as Dumbledore was. And…I had fun every minute of my life, even at the end,” he said solemnly.

Hermione looked at Fred. He did seem content with what had happened to him. So, why was she still having such a hard time with it?

“I’m being selfish, aren’t I?” she asked.

“Selfish?” Fred asked, confusion in his voice.

“I know we weren’t as close as we could have been, but…I…I miss you so much,” she said as the tears spilled out of her eyes again. “Everywhere I go here, I can think of something that you did, or some prank you pulled. I thought it would be hard being here without Ron and Harry, but I see them all the time. It’s not only them I miss, I miss…you,” she said, the last words spoken softly.

“You think about me?” Fred asked shocked.

“Yeah, did you know that piece of swamp is still in the corridor by Gregory the Swarmy? Flitwick roped it off and it is still there,” she told him.

“That was a bit of genius that swamp. It was so much fun upsetting the reign of Umbridge. Though Mum had a few choice words for us when she found out what we had done.”

“Your mum was and still is very proud of you. You know she only wanted what was best for you, right?” she asked him.

“Yeah, I know. I never realised how much she did for us until George and I moved out. Let me tell you, washing your own socks really wakes a person up,” he said chuckling.

Hermione gave a small chuckle. “I guess it would.”

“Listen, when you walk around here and think of me, think of the good stuff and how much fun I had doing it. Don’t think about the bad. I had fun, I had a good life, short though it was, it was a good life.” Fred stood and looked down at her.

“I wouldn’t trade all the fun I had to have my life back. I enjoyed every minute of my life. That is what you need to remember,” he said.

“I’ll try,” she said uncertainly.

“You are the smartest witch I every met, besides Mum. Use your logic and you’ll be fine.”

“I have been, it just wasn’t working tonight. I just couldn’t think logically about it anymore. Sometimes…” She shook her head. She hated to cry and the one time she couldn’t fight it anymore, Fred appears.

“There is nothing wrong with tears. I guess I was just surprised to find you crying. You were always the strong one,” he said.

“Well, I am damn sick and tired of being the strong one,” she said angrily. “Over the past seven months, I have been strong for everyone, Ron, Harry, your mum and dad. Even here, I have to be the strong one for Ginny. Just when do I get to let go and have someone be strong for me? I loved you, too,” she said. She reached up and wiped at the tears falling unbidden down her face.

Fred smiled. “You are the perfect match for Ron. You won’t let him get away with anything, will you?” he asked. “You don’t have to be strong for everyone all the time. You have as much right to cry as anyone.” He knelt down in front of her.

“I know you don’t know this, but I always thought of you as a little sister. I’m glad you and Ron finally stopped dancing around it and opened up to your feelings for each other. You will make a wonderful Weasley with your temper,” he said.

Standing, he took a few steps away from her towards the shadows. “Tears are okay, as long as they are for the right reason. Don’t cry because you didn’t save me, don’t cry because I never got a chance to grow a real beard. Crying because you miss me, well…” He smiled.

“I might be gone, but my memories and legacy will live on. When missing me gets to be too much, go visit the swamp.”

Hermione watched as he walked deeper into the shadows and disappeared. Standing, she turned and went out the portrait hole. Hoping she wouldn’t be caught by any teacher, she walked quickly to the corridor with Gregory the Swarmy.

Sitting alone in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, Harry stared into the fireplace as he twisted his bottle of Butterbeer in his hands. Since the Battle, he hadn’t spent much time here. At first, he stayed at the Burrow while attending all the funerals and memorial services for the fallen. Then, he, Ron and Neville worked day and night with Kingsley in the Auror Department, to capture the remaining Death Eaters.

Today, Kingsley called the three of them into his office and asked them to officially join the Auror Department. It was exactly what he wanted, so why was he sitting here feeling as he did months ago whenever he came here and the memories swamped him in grief?

“Missing me?” came a voice from the shadows in the corner of the room.

“George, why would I be missing you? I just saw you a couple hours ago,” Harry answered. He didn’t even wonder how George had gotten in or why. The Weasleys had free reign to come and go as they pleased around here.

“For an almost Auror, you’re not very observant,” said Fred as he walked into the light from the fire. “Look,” he said as he raised his hands to the sides of his head, “both ears.”

Fred began laughing at the look of shock on Harry’s face. He watched as Harry carefully turned back to the table and set his bottle down on it, giving it a suspicious look as he did.

Fred continued to chuckle. “It’s not the Butterbeer, Harry. It’s not stress, overwork, or the fact you have haven’t slept more than a few hours a night in the past few months. I’m really here,” said Fred.

As Harry opened his mouth to speak, Fred held up a hand to stop him. “Before you ask, I am here because you needed to see me. How? I don’t really know. It just happens when someone in my family needs me,” Fred said as he sat at the table next to Harry.

“When someone needs you? Are you saying I need you? I wasn’t even thinking about you…No offence,” said Harry.

“None taken, and weren’t you?” asked Fred, raising his eyebrows.

Harry tried to recall what he had been thinking about when Fred arrived. Memories of Sirius and Remus came to mind, and then he realised he had been thinking about Extendable Ears, Doxy Eggs and Venomus Tenacula seeds. He looked at Fred who smiled knowingly.

“But I also thought about Sirius and Remus. Where are they?” Harry asked, looking towards the shadows where Fred appeared from.

“You have accepted their deaths, grieved and to a point, moved on. While you feel guilt over both of them, you have gotten past that. Not with my death. With me, you can’t stop blaming yourself.”

“How can I not blame myself? Not only for you, but for Remus, Colin and even Sirius?” asked Harry angrily. "If I had gone to Voldemort right at the beginning…”

“You’d be dead, and then where would we be?” Fred asked. “More of us would be dead.”

“You don’t know that…”

“Harry, think about it. You hadn’t destroyed his other Horcruxes yet. He was tied to life by them… unlike you,” said Fred.

“Nagini,” said Harry thoughtfully.

“How would Neville or anyone have gotten close enough to kill him? The Diadem, would anyone besides you have known where to look for it?” asked Fred.

“Ron would have figured it out or Hermione,” answered Harry.

“Would they have had the chance before Voldemort killed them? You know he would have killed Hermione and Ron would have died defending her. Merlin’s pants, we all would have died defending her and if we weren’t, we would have been killed for being Blood Traitors.” Fred shook his head.

“So, still think going to Voldemort in the beginning would have saved lives?” Fred asked.

“Maybe, maybe not. Doesn’t matter anyway. Doesn’t change the fact you were killed because of me. Nothing you say can change that fact,” Harry said sadly.

“It was my time, Harry. As crazy or stupid as it may be, it just is. Beating yourself up over it can’t change that one basic fact. It was my time.”

“Well, it isn’t fair. You had so much to live for, so much yet to do,” Harry said emphatically.

Fred chuckled. He wondered if Harry would appreciate knowing at this moment, he sounded exactly like Hermione.

“I didn’t miss out on much…And before you say it, what I had left to do with my life had I lived…” Fred stopped and shook his head, his expression wistful for just a moment. “I can’t be upset over something I never had in the first place.” Fred smiled anticipating Harry’s next response.

“My life was fun, I enjoyed every minute of it. If I can get over being dead, why can’t you?” Fred asked curiously.

“Because it’s my fault you died,” Harry said, anger again in his voice.

“Merlin’s beard, Harry, get over it. Not every bad thing that happened since you were born is your fault,” Fred said. “Bad stuff happens everyday to wizards and Muggles alike. Next thing you know, you will be taking the blame for the House-elf’s suffering, or the way the Centaurs are treated. Life isn’t just about you, Harry.” Fred didn’t like having to be so cruel, but sometimes with Harry, there was no choice.

“Don’t even tell me you believed all that nonsense surrounding The Chosen One label they put on you. After all…we both know you were once thought of as The Heir of Slytherin,” Fred said and then began laughing.

Harry joined Fred in laughing. “Only by you and George. You two were the only ones who dared call me that.”

“At least to your face,” said Fred. “It doesn’t matter what they called you, you did what you were destined to do. Destined not by your choice, but by Voldemort. Without you, who knows how many wizards and witches would be dead. You saved countless lives, and a complete way of life.”

Harry looked at Fred. He had never thought about it in that way. “But, too many died, too many families were torn apart. If I had been quicker…” Harry’s voice trailed off at the look on Fred’s face.

“Harry, can you honestly say, you expected everyone to survive? Even you knew going in, there would be losses. We all knew the risk and were will to take the chance that we would not make it. Do you think I didn’t know as I walked down that tunnel, I may not be alive come morning?” asked Fred.

“Do you think George, Bill, Mum and Dad didn’t know it was a possibility one of us wouldn’t live?”

“You should not have been put in that situation. I should have told all of you to go home. It was my place to fight him, not yours,” said Harry.

“And just who are you to make that decision? What gives you the right to tell any of us what we can fight for and what we can’t?” asked Fred angrily.

“It was my destiny, my place-”

“Yes, it was, but it was also our place to choose what we wanted to do. We wanted to fight and stand beside you in defending our way of life, our freedom,” countered Fred.

“Harry, we weren’t just fighting beside you, we were also fighting for our families, our way of life, and our freedom. We made that choice. You are not responsible for any of the deaths. It is time you realised that.”

Fred didn’t speak as he watched everything he had said sink into Harry’s mind. He knew Harry was beginning to understand the deaths were not his fault.

After several minutes, Harry looked again at Fred. “Are you really okay with being dead? No regrets?” he asked.

“I’m really okay. Regrets?” Fred thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Nope. I don’t regret anything I did in my life, except perhaps…no, not even that,” said Fred smiling.

“Except what?” asked Harry.

“Nothing, nothing at all. Forget I said anything,” said Fred.

“Fred,” said Harry, “tell me.”

“It was a mistake, a lapse in judgement, but damn, it could have been fun,” he said. He saw Harry lift his eyebrows in question. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise me you won’t ever tell Bill.”

At Harry’s nod, he continued, “I made a pass at Fleur. It was during the Triwizard Tournament, the night of the Yule Ball. She was standing in the Great Hall waiting on that pretty boy, Roger Davies. He had gone to get them something to drink, or at least that is what he told her he was going to do. Personally, I think he had to go fix his hair or something.

“Anyway, I went over to talk to her since George was dancing with Angelina, and it just happened. She seemed to enjoy it, at least until Davies came back.” Fred smiled at the memory.

“You never told Bill?” Harry asked.

“Would you have told him?” He saw Harry shake his head. “I didn’t think so. I don’t know if Fleur ever told him, but I doubt it.”

“Well, no value in telling him now. You’re not around to hear about it,” said Harry.

Fred stood up, knowing it was time for him to leave. Harry seemed to finally be okay. “It is time for me to go,” he said.

Harry looked at him. “I won’t see you again, will I?” he asked.

“No. You’ll be okay now. Just remember next time you are feeling guilty. It wasn’t your fault. It was our choice to stand beside you against Voldemort. Life isn’t always about you, Harry. Sorry to be the one to break that to you, but… that is the way it is.” Fred began walking towards the shadows of the room.

“Oh, Harry,” he said as he began to fade, “don’t hurt Ginny. If you do, then I will come back and I won’t be so nice the next time.”

Harry listened as Fred’s laughter faded. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he wondered if he had just had a very clear hallucination or if he had just had a conversation with a ghost. Deciding it didn’t really matter; he stood and went up to bed, feeling better than he had in the past seven months.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said as he flinched at the sound of the slamming bedroom door. He could hear the sounds of his mother’s crying even though he sat in the kitchen. He had felt relief when she had started yelling at him, but that relief was short-lived as her tears had soon followed. She immediately retreated to her room.

He had waited until after Christmas to tell her he was joining the Auror Department permanently instead of going to work in the shop with George. The resulting explosion from her was what he had expected and secretly hoped for.

He knew she was worried over his safety but right now, he just couldn’t face working day after day with George. It wasn’t George’s fault he was a constant reminder of what this family had lost. Ron felt guilty over even thinking of him that way, but it was the truth.

Eventually he knew he would go and work in the shop. But, right now, he needed to do this. He needed to…

What? he wondered. What did he need to do?

“You need to prove yourself to yourself,” came a voice from the shadows.

Ron stood quickly, looking towards the voice. It just couldn’t be…it couldn’t be…Fred.

“Why can’t it be?” asked Fred as he stepped closer to Ron. “It can be, and it is, your favourite brother.”

“Who ever said you were my favourite?” asked Ron, still not sure if what he was seeing and hearing was real.

“I’m real enough, at least, for you right here and right now,” said Fred. He turned his head slightly as if listening to something. “Don’t worry about Mum. She’ll come around.”

“I hate hearing her crying,” said Ron. Sitting back down, he continued, “I don’t mind when she yells at me. That is a relief. She’s spent too much time crying lately.”

Fred took a couple steps towards the stairs before stopping suddenly as if he walked into a wall. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned and went back to the table.

“Guess it isn’t time, yet,” he said sadly.

“How can you sit there listening to her crying, knowing she is crying over you and not go to her?” asked Ron, his face turning red as his anger at his brother rose.

“Because I have to. I am not here to see her. I am here for you,” replied Fred. Tearing his eyes away from the stairs, he looked at his baby brother.

“I don’t need you,” Ron said angrily. “Mum does. Go to her!”

“You do need me or I wouldn’t be here. I know Mum needs me too, but not just yet. This time, it is you I am here for,” said Fred sadly.

“I don’t need you!” Ron whispered furiously. “I’ve done fine these past eight months without you. So you can just go back to heaven or hell or wherever it is you have been and leave me the hell alone.” Ron stood and walked into the sitting room and away from the pain just as he had been doing for the last eight months.

“Running away, burying the pain won’t make me go away. It won’t stop the hurt, either,” said Fred as he followed behind his brother.

“What in the hell do you know about it? You haven’t been here, you don’t know what this family has been going through,” said Ron struggling to keep his voice down.

“Do you want to know? Do you even care?” he asked. Not waiting for an answer from Fred, he went on. “Mum spent the first couple months crying whenever she looked at any of us. George…George spent months in your room, at first, he wouldn’t even eat. Bill and Charlie took care of that problem, but even they couldn’t get him to come out.

“Then one day, he packs up and moves out. After that, it got really wonderful around here. Mum stopped even trying to be Mum. She didn’t cook, she didn’t do anything but sit in her room, day and night. Again, Bill and Charlie took care of that.

“Dad finally went back to work, and George, one day finally decided to open the shop and come home for dinner. After that, Mum was a bit better, but not quite Mum. She never yelled at any of us, no matter what we did or didn’t do. She still doesn’t really yell. That is why her yelling at me tonight was such a relief.”

“It was like having Mum back,” said Fred.

“Yeah, but it didn’t last, now did it?” asked Ron.

“You blame me because I died, don’t you?” asked Fred.

“Why couldn’t you have been paying attention? For once in your life, couldn’t you have stopped joking and been serious? Did you think we were there for fun and games?” Ron paused and took a deep breath. “Did you even think about what would happen to Mum or Dad if something happened to you? What would happen to me? To all of us? Did you even care?” Ron stopped and wiped disgustedly at the tears trailing down his face.

Fred didn’t respond. He knew he had to let Ron get it all out. When it seemed as if Ron had run out of steam, he sat down next to his brother.

“I didn’t set out to die, Ron. I think you know that. As far as taking the whole thing serious, of course I did. I knew going in there was a chance one of us could die, that I could die. I also knew if I was going to die that night, I was going to go out on my terms. The fact the last thing I did was make a joke…well, that just worked out according to my plan.”

“You planned to die?” Ron asked incredulously. “You selfish bastard-”

“Whoa! Wait a minute there little brother. I’ll take a lot of insults and accusations from you but not that. I never planned to die. Hell, given a choice, no one would have died. But, if my dying saved even one other person, then it was worth it. Selfish? I don’t think so,” Fred said defensively.

“Okay, so you didn’t plan on dying, but if you had been paying more attention…” Ron said.

“It wouldn’t have mattered, Ron. Don’t you see? It wouldn’t have changed anything. I was meant to die, just as you were meant to live... just as everyone else in this family was meant to live.”

Fred waited for what he said to cut through Ron’s anger before he asked, “So, is there anything else bothering you?”

“No,” Ron said stiffly.

“You still think it is Mum I should be here to see, don’t you?” At Ron’s nod, Fred sighed. “I will see Mum, just not tonight. Before you ask, I don’t know when. This visiting thing, I don’t control it. I can’t control who I see or when.”

“If you don’t control it, then how do you know when to come? Who decides that because I think you should tell them Mum needs you the most,” Ron said.

“It is hard to explain. The first time, I was given a choice of who to come and talk to. I chose Dad because he needed me the most. He wasn’t grieving; he was hiding his pain from everyone. The second time, I ended up in the kitchen with Percy. Not my choice, it just happened.” Fred looked at Ron to see if he believed him.

“I get this feeling that one of you needs me, and the next thing I know, I am standing in the shadows, looking at one of you suffering.”

“Who else have you seen?” asked Ron.

“After Dad and Percy, I saw George, Charlie and Bill. Then a couple months ago, I found myself in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room listening to Hermione crying. After her, it was Harry, now it is you. That only leaves Ginny and Mum. So I can safely say, I’ll be seeing Mum soon,” Fred said.

“Good, because she needs you the most. I still don’t understand though if you can come down to talk to one of us who needs you, then why haven’t you seen Mum yet?” Ron persisted.

“I don’t know,” said Fred impatiently. “Perhaps because her crying and mood swings or lack of them, is right. She is grieving. I guess that is what she is supposed to be doing, so I am not really needed.” Fred shrugged his shoulders.

“Are you still mad at me?” Fred asked Ron.

“No, I don’t think I ever was, not really,” he said.

“Yes, you were. And you felt guilty because you were mad at me. It is perfectly natural for you to be mad at me. I did leave. I did die and leave a hole in this family. But, I never meant for it to happen. It just did. You have to accept that. Being angry at me isn’t going to change what happened. Nothing can,” Fred told him.

“Listen, Dad will talk sense into Mum. You need to do what you need to do for you. Does George need you at the shop with him?” Fred shook his head. “Not right now. Right now, I think he needs to do this himself. If you offered to help him, he would be insulted thinking you didn’t think he can do it himself.” Fred stood and looked down at Ron.

“He can do it himself, he just needs time to prove that to himself, just as you need time to find yourself. Explain that to Mum tomorrow, calmly. Give her time, and she will see you are right.” Fred turned and began walking towards the kitchen. Ron stood and followed behind him.

Fred stopped just before the shadows of the kitchen started and turned to look at Ron. Smiling, he said, “Let go of the anger, Ron. If you don’t…if you don’t, you are going to drive everyone away, including Hermione. She loves you. Why? I don’t know, but she does. Let it go and be happy, little brother.” Fred turned and walked into the shadows.

“And every once in a while, pull a prank for me. After all, you are a Weasley.” Fred’s voice faded away.

Ron stood where he was without moving for about five minutes. Then, shaking his head as if coming out of a trance, he smiled and began to laugh. When his mother came into the kitchen, he walked over to her and hugged her.

“I love you, Mum. Someday, I will go and work with George, but right now, right now, I need to be an Auror, for me.” He kissed his mother on the cheek and walked up the stairs smiling while his mother stood staring after him wondering if he had finally lost his mind.

Ginny sat on her bed staring at the papers in her hands. Easter break was over and she would be leaving to return to Hogwarts tomorrow. She still hadn’t told her parents or anyone about these papers.

It was what she had always wanted, a contract to play Quidditch professionally. She had dreamed of being offered this chance since she was small. She smiled at the memory of stealing either Fred or George’s broomstick and sneaking off to the meadow to fly.

“You always took my broom more than his,” came a voice from the shadows.

Ginny looked up. Her smile remained in place. “It’s about time you came to see me. I was beginning to wonder if you ever would,” she said softly.

Fred walked out of the shadows and over to his sister. He smiled at her and opened his arms. Standing quickly, Ginny rushed into his open arms without a moment’s hesitation.

Shivering slightly, she looked up at him. “It’s like touching Nearly Headless Nick,” she said but she tightened her grip on him nonetheless. After a moment, she realised her grip on him and sat down on the bed. Fred sat next to her and looked down at the papers she had thrown aside to hug him.

“Holyhead Harpies, big time,” he said. “I’m impressed.”

“You should be. I worked hard to get this chance,” she said.

“So, why haven’t you told anyone? Why haven’t you signed these and sent them back?” he asked.

“I…I don’t know,” she confessed.

“It is what you always wanted, even I knew that. What is really keeping you from signing them? Worried Harry won’t approve?”

“No, he’ll be happy for me. I know he will be,” she answered.

“Worried Mum and Dad will object?” he asked.

“No, I know Mum will at first, but Dad will be happy and he’ll talk to Mum and she’ll understand,” she said.

“Worried Charlie will be jealous?” Fred tried again.

“No, Charlie didn’t want to sign. He always wanted his dragons.”

“Then what?” he asked gently.

“You were happy, weren’t you? Before, I mean,” she asked.

“Yeah, I was happy. How could I not be? George and I, we had it all, the shop, doing what we were meant to do, what we were happy doing. We had all of you, Harry and Hermione supporting us, happy for us. We had everything,” he answered.

“What if…what if I sign this, take the chance and get what I want and something goes wrong?” she asked him.

“Ginny, you can’t live your life worrying that by making yourself happy something bad will happen. Life is meant to be lived, not hidden from,” he told her.

“My fifth year, I was happy when Harry and I finally started dating. And what happened? Professor Dumbledore died, and Harry broke up with me. Then, even though deep down, I knew he was going to leave, I hoped during Bill and Fleur’s wedding, we could be happy. We could find a way,” she said and looked at Fred.

“And all hell broke loose,” Fred said finishing her thoughts.

“You could say that,” she said and chuckled. “Every time there seems to be a light of happiness, it all crashes down. Remus and Tonks had Teddy, and then just a couple months later, they are both dead.” She stopped as the tears began to flow freely down her face.

“He is going to be a year old in a couple weeks, and he won’t ever know his parents,” she said.

Fred reached out and put his arm around her, after a small shudder, she leaned into him. “Ginny, bad things happen, but if you think about it, more good happens than bad.”

“Maybe if you take all the bad things against the good, but in this family…” Ginny’s voice trailed off.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Fred asked pulling back to look into Ginny’s face. He could see in her eyes, she did. Sighing, he hugged her closer.

“And it’s not just us, look at Harry. He finally found Sirius and was going to live with him, and Sirius is killed. Dobby saves him, Ron and Hermione and he dies. For what? Why can’t he be happy?” she asked. When Fred didn’t immediately answer, she went on.

“I’ll tell you why. Because of…of…me,” she said.

Fred pulled back once again and looked at Ginny. He was shocked to see she really believed she was to blame for everything bad that had happened to this family.

“Ginny, you don’t really believe any of this was your fault? Do you?” he asked. When she nodded her head, he sighed. He wasn’t sure how to handle this. With Harry, it was expected to have him taking the blame for everything that had happened. But, with Ginny, he never expected it.

“If I had just stayed home, like I should have maybe my bad luck wouldn’t have gotten you killed,” she said, the certainty of her statement clear in her voice.

“You had no part in what happened to me or any part of the bad things that have happened to Harry.”

“But, every time I-”

“You ARE not to blame,” Fred said sternly.

“I’m the only girl in a family of males. That makes me un-”

“That makes you special,” he said.

“Stop doing that, I’m not George. I don’t need you to finish my sentences or thoughts for me,” she said fiercely. “I can think for myself.”

“Now, that is better. That is my sister talking,” Fred said and he smiled broadly at her confusion. “My sister is not a person who wallows in self-pity. She is not someone who plays the ‘oh poor me’ card. She fights, she stands up for what she believes in and those she loves. My sister is someone I am very proud of,” Fred told her.

Ginny looked at him, wonder crossing her face. “My sister,” he continued, “would have told anyone talking the way you just were to grow up and face reality. Stuff happens, good and bad, that is just life, she would have said.”

Ginny didn’t speak for a few minutes looking everywhere but at Fred. Finally, she picked up the papers lying on the bed. After looking down at them for a few seconds, she stood and went to her desk in front of the window. Taking the quill from the bottle of ink, she signed her name to the last page and then turned to look at Fred.

“I…I am going to play for the Holyhead Harpies and I am going to be damn good at it,” she said and then laughing rushed over to throw herself into his arms again. The force of her jump had them tumbling backwards onto the bed.

Laughing hysterically, Fred was glad he found the words to bring his sister back. When they stopped laughing, it took a few minutes for Ginny to get her breath back.

“I haven’t laughed like that in over ten months, since…” she said, unwilling to say the words she was thinking.

“Since I died,” Fred finished for her and chuckled when she growled at him. “Hey, I have a question for you,” he said.

“Sure, what do you want to know?” she asked.

“You said it was about time I got here, how did you know I was going to visit?” he asked.

“Harry let it slip he had seen you when I was over at Grimmauld Place last week for dinner. Ron admitted he had, too. So, I knew it was only a matter of time before you came to see me.”

“Does Mum know about my visits?” he asked worriedly.

“No, I don’t think so. I know Harry and Ron agreed not to tell her. I don’t think anyone else has either. Why?” she asked.

“Because each time I visit, I expect to see Mum. I want to see Mum, but it never is her,” he said sadly. “Maybe…maybe I’m not going to be able to see her.”

Ginny sat up and quickly got to her feet. “I’ll go get her now, and you can talk to her,” she said as she rushed to the door.

“Ginny, wait!” he called to her.

Ginny turned the knob on her door without even looking back at him. He watched as she pulled on the door. It wouldn’t open. She kept trying until Fred walked over and drew her away from the door.

“Fred,” she said.

“No, Ginny. It isn’t time,” he said to her as he led her back to the bed. “When I came to see Ron, I tried to go upstairs to Mum. I could hear her crying over her fight with Ron and I wanted so bad to see her. I couldn’t even get to the bottom of the stairs. It was like a wall was there,” he told her.

“So, I can’t go get her because it isn’t time for you to see her?” she asked.

“Right. When it is time, I’ll see her. I have to believe that,” he said.

She put her arms around him and hugged him. “You will see her. It wouldn’t be fair for you to see everyone but her.”

Fred smiled. “I came here because you needed me and it seems, I needed you just as much,” he said and stood.

“You have to leave now, don’t you?” she asked, sadness lacing her voice, tears forming in her eyes as she looked up at him.

“Yes, but even though I am not here anymore, I’m always close by,” he said. He walked over to the desk and looked down at the papers she left sitting there. “I will be at every game, so don’t let me down.”

Smiling, she walked over to him. “I won’t,” she said. “Every time I take to the sky, I’ll think about you. Every game will be for you.”

Fred bent down and kissed the tip of her nose, and then ruffled her hair like he did when she was a toddler. He turned and walked towards the shadows.

“Be happy, sis. This family is in for a whole lot of happy times. This is only the beginning,” he said as he faded away.

Ginny stood still for only a moment before scooping up the signed contract and racing out of her bedroom, yelling for her mother and father as she ran down the stairs.

“I told you! I AM NOT GOING!” shouted Molly Weasley as she stormed up the stairs. Slamming her bedroom door, she paced angrily across the room and sat down on her bed. She knew she was being unreasonable, but she couldn’t help it.

The last thing she wanted to do today was go to Hogwarts for the memorial service being held on the one year anniversary of the Battle. Why did she want to go and have to relive that day? Didn’t she see it vividly enough in her dreams?

“You need to go, Mum,” came a voice from the shadows.

Molly gasped even as the tears started. She watched as Fred strode out into the light and sat beside her.

“I’ve lost my mind, you can’t be here,” she said, her voice shaking.

“You haven’t lost your mind. I am really here,” Fred said gently. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but he was worried about pushing her too far, too fast.

“Oh, Fred,” she sobbed and threw herself into his arms.

Fred was surprised she didn’t even shudder at the coldness of his body. He wrapped his arms around her and held her gently. After about five minutes, he felt her sobs lessening and pulled back slightly to look down at her. He gave her a soft smile.

“Mum,” he began but she was quick to cut him off.

“How could you? How could you be so careless? I told you no good would come from you joking all the time,” she said to him, her voice rising with each word.

“Mum-”

“Don’t you Mum me in that innocent tone of voice, Fred Weasley. It hasn’t worked since you were two years old and the fact you are dead doesn’t change anything,” she said. Then as if realising what she said, she jumped up from the bed and stared down at him.

Gently, she reached a hesitant hand out and touched his hair and then his face. Fred watched as she drew a deep breath and turned away from him, walking across the room to look out the window.

“Why are you here?” she asked emotionlessly.

“To see you,” he answered simply. “You needed to see me.”

She spun around at his words. “I needed to see you? So, you just thought you’d float down here today of all days and visit? I needed to see you a year ago, months ago, even yesterday. But today, today I don’t need to see you. Today, I realised you are gone and you are not ever coming back. I have six other children plus Harry and Hermione and even Fleur who need me. And I need them. I don’t need a son who left his family because he couldn’t even take fighting for his life seriously.”

Fred was shocked. He knew his mother had a wicked temper, but he didn’t expect this. When Percy left, she cried, his dad was the one who raged. When Ron went off on him, he let him because that was Ron and it was what he needed to do. When Ginny went into the self-pity mode, he teased her out of it. He didn’t know how to handle this.

He also knew he had to. He couldn’t leave until they settled this. He stood and walked over to her.

“Mum, no matter what you think, I did take fighting that day seriously. I knew we were fighting for our lives, our families’ lives. None of us saw the wall falling. It happened. It was my time, Mum. As simple as that, it was my time,” he said gently and braced himself for the outburst he knew from her eyes was coming.

“Your time? Your time? You don’t know that, perhaps if you had been paying attention to what you were doing…”

Fred shook his head. “No, Mum. It was my time. It wouldn’t have mattered one bit if I saw the wall falling. Something would have happened and I’d still be dead,” he told her.

Molly shook her head in denial. “No…no…if you paid attention then you could have lived,” she said uncertain.

Fred took her hand and led her back to the bed. Sitting her down, he knelt at her feet and looked up at her.

“No, Mum. It isn’t like that. Just like with Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon, it was our time.” He saw her eyes widen at the mention of her brothers. “Yeah, I’ve seen them. They send their love,” he told her and saw a small smile cross her face.

“When it first happened, I didn’t want to accept it. To say I wasn’t happy about it, is putting it mildly. I spent countless hours with Albus talking. He made me understand everything works out the way it is meant to. I was meant to die, so the rest of you could live.”

“That’s nonsense. How did your dying save any of us?” she asked dismissively.

“Mum, had I not died, would you have had the anger to kill Bellatrix?” He saw the flash of anger again in her eyes. He held up his hand to forestall her. “I am not saying you couldn’t have, but had I lived, you probably would have died fighting her. Or Ginny would have died before you could have stepped in.” He shook his head at the thought.

“I saw it all, Mum. Ginny came a hair’s breath from dying. If I hadn’t been standing right next to her and deflected the spell…”

“You deflected the spell?” Molly said, her voice barely a whisper.

“Yes, I did. I wasn’t supposed to interfere. Hell, I wasn’t even supposed to be there. But, what else was I supposed to do? Stand there and watch my sister die?” he asked his mum.

“No, no, of course not. You did what you had to do,” she said to him.

“Don’t you see, Mum. Had I lived, I wouldn’t have been there. Ginny would be dead and you probably would be, too.”

Molly sat and looked at her son. She couldn’t believe she had yelled at him the way she had. Her anger with him faded as quickly as it had come. She knew he wasn’t here to stay so she didn’t want to waste anymore time yelling at him.

“So, what’s new?” Fred asked smiling.

“Oh, so much has happened. Ginny is going to play for the Holyhead Harpies. Harry, Ron and Neville are Aurors and Hermione has been offered a job with the Ministry when she leave Hogwarts,” she said in a rush.

Fred smiled. He, of course, knew all this, but he let his mum go on telling him of all the family news. When she began to slow down, he knew it was time to bring up the reason he was here.

“Mum, about the Memorial Service today,” he said.

“I’m not going,” she said sternly.

“Mum,” he said, then shook his head when she opened her mouth to speak, “listen to me. You have to go, you need to go.”

“I don’t have to do anything, and I don’t need to go,” she said as tears welled up in her eyes.

“Yes, you do need to go. You need to go back there and truly face my dying. I know you think you have faced it and you even think you have accepted it, but you haven’t. Not really. Can you honestly say, you’re breath doesn’t catch when George walks through the door? Or that you don’t look behind him for me?”

He saw the truth to his words in her eyes. “You live everyday, waiting for me to come home. You weren’t even surprised to see me here today. It was as if you were waiting for me, expecting me,” he said.

Molly smiled. “I guess I was.” At his shocked look, she chuckled. “Did you think your little visits to every member of this family except me went unnoticed? Did you honestly think, I wouldn’t find out about them?” she asked him knowingly.

“Dad told you, didn’t he?” Fred asked.

“Yes, your father told me, but he didn’t mean to. He heard Percy talking to Charlie about a strange dream he had of you. He realised you had found a way to come back and visit and when Charlie went outside, he talked to Percy about his visit. I just happened to overhear him.” She smiled.

“By the way, I am sorry I gave you such a hard time about your inventions,” she said.

Fred noticed her blushing and wondered what his mother had done. “Mum, just how did you happen to overhear Dad and Percy,” he asked.

Molly stood and went to her dresser, opening the top drawer, she pulled out an Extendable Ear. She turned back to him and held out her hand, her eyes not meeting his.

Fred began laughing. “Mum, this is one of the proudest days of my life,” he said to her as he stood and walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. “You are truly a Weasley.”

“And just where do you think you got your brains for all of your stuff? Not from your father,” she told him. “No, brains like that came from your mother.” She patted his face lovingly.

“Will you please go to the Memorial Service?” he asked.

Molly pulled away from him and walked back over to the bed and slumped down on it, tears falling once again.

“I…I just don’t think I can face it,” she said.

“Yes, you can. You are the strongest woman I know. You can face it and you will face it. You will stand beside your family and honour those who died,” Fred said sternly. He knew he would never get his mother to agree by consoling or trying to guilt her into it.

He knew he had to be firm with her and make her realise this was something she could do rather than just something she should do. He watched as the tears flowed even more heavily and she shook her head.

“Mum, if George said he wasn’t going, or Dad, what would you tell them?” he asked. He didn’t expect an answer, so he wasn’t surprised by her silence. But, he could see she was thinking about what he said.

“I…no…I can’t do it,” she sobbed. “I can’t go back there and…and…”

“I am surprised at you. I can’t believe what I am hearing, what I am seeing. My mother, the woman who took down one of the most feared Death Eaters there ever was, a coward.”

Molly’s head snapped up and her tears stopped instantly as her eyes flashed in anger. Fred knew this was the key, anger.

“I never would have thought that of you. You won’t go because you are afraid. You won’t go, it’s not that you can’t go, you won’t. You won’t face the truth,” he said. “The truth that I am dead.”

Molly looked at her son. She wanted to rage at him, yell at him for his disrespect, but she knew he was right. How could she chastise him when she was being a coward?

“You are right,” she said softly. “I won’t go because if I do, then I will have to face the truth. I am not blinded by a haze of grief now like I was when they had the Memorial Service that first month. I, honestly, don’t even remember going. I only remember coming home and George moving out.” She shook her head.

“This time, when they read the names of the fallen, I will hear your name,” she said sadly.

“You can do it. You can because you won’t be alone. Everyone is downstairs hoping you will change your mind. Dad is pacing the floor wondering if he should come up here and try to talk to you. George is sitting at the table wondering how he can go if you don’t go and stand beside him.

“Ginny is afraid to go without you, she needs her mother’s strength to get through this. This family needs you. You are the centre, the core strength everyone relies on. Without you, this family will fall apart,” Fred said.

Molly looked at her son. She knew she was going to go. But, she also knew as soon as she agreed to go, he was going to leave. Selfishly, she wanted to hold out on her agreement and keep him here longer.

“I can’t stay much longer, Mum...whether you agree or not. My time here is almost gone,” he said to her.

She stood and went over to where he stood. She put her arms around him and rested her head on his chest.

“I’ll go. But, I am not going for me, or for any of the family. I am going because I had a wonderful son and it is my place to honour him and his memory,” she said as she squeezed him.

“I love you, Mum. Always have and I always will,” he told her as he pulled away from her. “Take care of the family.” He turned and walked back to the shadows.

“I love you, son,” Molly said as she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see him disappear.

“Life goes on, Mum. You need to go on, too.”

Molly listened to Fred’s voice fade away. Opening her eyes, she smiled and went to get dressed. Within minutes, she was walking down the stairs and into the kitchen. She saw Arthur pacing, George and Ginny sitting at the table staring at the wall, just as Fred told her.

“Well, what is everyone waiting for? Don’t we have someplace to be, or am I going alone?” she asked. She chuckled when every head turned to her in shock and she began laughing heartily when each of them scrabbled to grab their cloaks and rush out the door.

Smiling at Arthur, she said, “Fred told me life goes on, and I am counting on it.”