***
Prologue- Dwelling and Disturbances

Christmas Eve.

How could it be that time of year already? It had seemed like just yesterday when the war had been raging all around her, and the times were horrid. Just yesterday when the world turned upside down; when her precious little boy had been blown down, never to wake up again. Just yesterday when Voldemort had been defeated and all had become peaceful again. At least something good had come from her son's sacrifice. Poor little Fred, leaving his family to grieve for months, never fully regaining their happiness, never healing.

Molly Weasley had taken it the worst, after George. She was his mother- it should have been her, not her little boy. Why did he have to be there when the Death Eater's spells caved in the wall? Why not her? Why was she not able to help him, to get the rubble off of him before he died? There were so many things she would have done differently if only she had been near him at the time. But she wasn't, and now there was nothing she could do but cry.

It was Christmas Eve now, seven months after the battle. Seven months after everything in the world had gotten better, everything except Fred. Sometimes Molly wondered what this was like for George. He was his twin, after all. It had to be worse for him. He was dealing well, though. He would come by some days and just weep with Molly. Those were the days that helped her feel better, knowing that someone else was just as despondent as she was.

Molly was normally very jolly and grand around the holidays. Even during the war, when she had no idea where Ron was or what he was doing, she celebrated with everybody else, maybe even a bit more to keep her mind off of him. This year was different, though. She felt too depressed to do much: decorate, bake, wrap presents. Nothing could keep her from thinking about her Fred.

This day, she was up late trying to get some things done for the celebration the next day. Her heart just wasn't in it, though. She sat at the kitchen table, thinking about all the changes that had occurred since that fateful day in May. Kingsley Shacklebolt was the new Minister of Magic, Ron and Harry had started their Auror training. Ginny had gone back to Hogwarts for her last year, under Professor McGonagall as the new Headmistress. Fleur had become pregnant with her and Bill's first child, due towards the beginning of May, around the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts.

Deep in her thoughts, Molly found herself becoming very tired. She thought multiple times about going to bed, but was too exhausted to get up. Before long, she drifted off to sleep, one arm underneath her head, a very uncomfortable position. She dreamt of grandchildren and the Ministry, Hogwarts and the many Aurors she had known before their untimely deaths.

Suddenly a figure appeared in her deepest thoughts. Red-headed like herself, with deep brown eyes and freckles framing his nose and mouth. He bore a close resemblance to George, give or take an ear. Fred. "Mum, I don't understand why you still compare me to George."

Molly jerked upright. Was she still dreaming? She heard Fred as though he were right in front of her, and he looked three dimensional. She reached out, and found that her arm went right through him. "Hey, watch it!" Fred floated backwards and fell through the stove. "I can feel that, you know, and I don't know if you've ever thought about it, but for me, it feels weird to have your mother poking you in places only Healers should be able to reach!"

Molly pulled her hand away slowly, staring at her son as she did when she saw the ghoul from their attic pretending to be Ron with Spattergroit. She still believed she was dreaming, and wondered if Arthur would be able to see Fred if she called him down. "Ar-"

"No!" screamed Fred, clamping a hand over his mother's mouth, only to have it go right through her. "Nobody can see me, Mum."

"Well, why on Earth not, young man?" Molly hadn't meant to speak with such hostility, especially since this was her first time seeing Fred since he had died. She had thought she would never be able to see him again, and she had never imagined her words to him being this fierce when she daydreamed. "I'm sorry, dear. How are you here?"

"Mum, I know you miss me, but you need to move on," Fred began in a quiet voice, completely unlike him. "I want you to be able to have fun over the holidays without me bringing you down."

"Honey, how would I ever be able to get over the death of one of my children?" Molly was shocked to hear one of her most rowdy boys speaking to her with such sincerity. "How would you feel if George was the one that died?"

"Horrible, but I would still have fun at Christmas," Fred pointed out. "I wouldn't let him get in the way of all the good times I could be having."

"Fred, dear, I'm going to be upset about you not being here, and I don't know that I'll be able to get over you enough to participate." Molly spoke in a sad voice, tears running down her cheeks at an alarming rate. "Can you understand why that is?"

"No, Mum." Fred suddenly turned and looked at the clock on the wall. It told him that it was eleven o'clock, the time allotted for him to convince his mother was running out. He pulled out a bright orange cloak, and flung it over his mother.

"What the-" Molly was awestruck, and didn't get a chance to object before she was thrust through time and space, landing in an old-fashioned living room with a gigantic tree in the middle.

"Welcome home," said Fred.
***

***
Chapter One - Relive and Remember

Looking around, Molly saw that the house was decorated for Christmas, just as hers was now. The stockings were hanging on the mantle, five in a row, just like they used to when she was young. Wait, was that her stocking? And Gideon's and Fabian's, too? Her mother's and her father's completed the row.

This was her childhood home.

Awestruck, Molly slowly moved around the room, surveying the chairs and tables that were so familiar to her. This was where she had grown up, the house she had lived in when her brothers were alive, before the First War destroyed her whole way of life.

Molly walked over to the corner of the room where her parents had always kept the calendar- it was Christmas Eve of 1958, the year she had been eight years old. Gideon had been ten, while Fabian, at twelve, was the only one of the siblings at Hogwarts. Molly remembered this Christmas vaguely; she recalled receiving a doll which she had played with for years and years until it wore out, upsetting her greatly.

"How are we here?" she asked Fred dreamily, still reminiscing about grand times she had had in this house.

"Mum, I'm a ghost. I can do stuff like this," Fred answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Oh, look who it is!"

Turning around swiftly, Molly saw a little girl walk into the room. The girl had red hair and brown eyes, a miniature version of herself. The younger Molly skipped over to the Christmas tree and plopped down next to a medium-sized box with an enormous red bow on top. She lifted the package slowly and put it to her ear.

Just then, a woman walked into the room, two lanky boys at her heels. "Molly, what in the world have you gotten up to?"

Shocked at being discovered, the younger Molly put the present she was holding back under the tree reluctantly and stood up, mumbling under her breath, "Tattletales..."

The woman, who the older Molly recognized as her own mother, put her arm around her daughter, whispering something in her ear. Giddy with delight, the little girl wrapped her arms around her mother and kissed her on the cheek. Then she walked back over to the tree, smirking at her brothers all the while.

The boys, Gideon and Fabian, looked outraged at this turn of events. Molly picked up the present, and slowly undid the bow. She lifted the lid off of the box, and saw a beautiful doll. It was wearing a long silky dress with pale pink flower petals embroidered into the fabric. A large bow was tied around her waist, a matching one in her dark brown hair. The doll's eyes were blue like sapphires, sparkling in the light of the Christmas tree.

"Oh, Mother!" The younger Molly was amazed at the loveliness of her new doll, shocked at how expensive it must have been. She sprang up and gave her mother a big hug, unable to find words to describe her gratitude. The doll was the most wonderful present she had ever received, and she was sure she would remember this moment for the rest of her life. It was a magical gift.

The scene in front of her brought tears to the older Molly's eyes. She turned to her son, wondering how he had known to bring her to this time in her past, this most wonderful memory. Fred had a look of delight on his face, and a mischievous grin spreading from ear to ear.

Smiling warmly, Molly's mother ushered her children into the next room. The older Molly followed, Fred at her heels. They arrived in the kitchen, nostalgia brewing in Molly as she recognized the paisley wallpaper she had loved as a girl. Her mother picked up a tray, and sat down at the table with her little ones. Each of them had their own mug of hot chocolate to enjoy, marshmallows floating on top, melting slowly into the frothy brew.

These were the times the older Molly missed, days when her family had all the time in the world to enjoy each other and relax. She remembered that her father was working on this night; it had been horrible for her, as she loved spending time with her father. It was Christmas Eve, too; how could someone possibly work on Christmas Eve?

Lost in her thoughts, Molly barely noticed when Fred whispered in her ear, "Mum, are you ready to go?"

"Wha- we have to leave?"

"Sorry, Mum, but we need to be heading to our next stop."

"And where might that be?" Molly was getting worried now; when Fred wanted to take her somewhere, it was usually followed by some kind of constricting through space with no air in her lungs, which wasn't Molly's forte.

"We'll just have to find out, now, won't we?" Fred said, and before Molly could object, the orange cloak was flung around her and that feeling of vertigo passed over her once more.

***

Her feet touching down again on hard earth was just what Molly needed to keep from passing out. Thankfully, when she opened her eyes, she found herself home again. There was one odd thing about this, though - it wasn't anything like the home she had left earlier that night.

In this version of her house, the Christmas tree was set up and lit in the middle of the room, presents strewn all around it. There were angel figurines on almost all of the shelves, wreaths adorning the walls. Molly knew she hadn't gotten around to this yet, so how could it have been done?

Her questions were soon answered, for into the room walked a very young Charlie Weasley, followed by Bill, no older than the young Molly had been at the previous house. Arthur followed his sons into the room, sweeping up Charlie playfully and taking a seat in his easy chair. Finally, there came a plump Molly, obviously pregnant. She was holding a little boy, only a year old: Percy. This meant that she was pregnant with Fred and George.

Fred apparently knew this, because he said quite loudly, "George took up all the room in there, I swear..."

Laughing under her breath, Molly replied, "Now why are we here, Fred?"

"It's all part of my evil plan," Fred said mysteriously. "You'll learn soon enough, Mum. I thought you preached to us to be patient."

"I did, but those types of rules don't apply to me," Molly explained earnestly.

"Why not?"

"I'm your mother, I deserve the right to know why we've gone back in time, and then forward again."

"Just watch and use your brain," Fred said impatiently. "You'll figure it out if you know what's good for you."

"Hmph!" Molly still thought she had the right to know, but she wasn't going to press it. She remembered this Christmas well enough; it was the one when she discovered she was having twins.

She had gone to St. Mungo's within the last couple of days for a checkup on her pregnancy. She well remembered that this time around, her stomach had enlarged much more and more quickly than the past three times. She thought it was just the fact that Arthur had been feeding her more, but the Healer had hinted at it being more than just that. He had told her he had been able to determine the gender of her baby, and asked if she wanted him to send her an owl on Christmas to make it all the more special. She had agreed.

The Healer had apparently decided he couldn't wait, and sent the owl a day early. Molly watched as a white owl clearly from St. Mungo's descended through the open window and landed on the table in front of Arthur. He untied the string holding the piece of parchment from the owl's leg, and the bird flew back through the window and into the night.

Arthur handed the parchment to his wife, and she unrolled it slowly, wondering whether she was carrying the first female Weasley in generations. She quickly read the note that was scribbled before her aloud:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,
We have analyzed the results of your recent tests, and we have wonderful news for you. You are expecting twin boys! We at St. Mungo's hope this letter reached you well, and we wish you and your family the very best at this exciting time in your lives. Merry Christmas, and we will see you at your next appointment on January twenty-first.
Yours Sincerely,
The St. Mungo's staff

"Oh my goodness!" Molly threw her arms around her husband, and he planted a kiss on her cheek. "We're having twins!"

"What's twins?" Charlie asked, confused at his mother and father's delight.

Again, tears were brought to the older Molly's eyes as she watched her younger self explain to her son that two babies were going to be added to their family. She remembered the raw emotion that had overcome her on this night the first time around. She was so happy, and frightened at the same time. Everything had worked out wonderfully, and the staff at St. Mungo's had been very helpful to her.

Fred comforted his mother as she sobbed into his shoulder. He wasn't sure why she always had to cry at the most unusual of times, but he had learned to go with it. After all, she was crying over him, so how bad could it be? He had never made anyone cry in his lifetime, at least not on purpose. These had to be happy tears; what could he have done?

When Molly finally calmed down, she saw that another one of her happiest Christmases had ended in hot chocolate. Her younger self must have brought it out while she was sobbing. She didn't know why she sobbed any more than Fred did; maybe motherly instinct. It was hard for her to see the very beginning of her son's life, especially after she had seen past the end.

Molly and Fred stood there for a few more minutes, just watching their family celebrate. Finally Fred broke the silence once more. "We need to go again, Mum."

"Alright." Molly reluctantly obeyed. "Where are we going now?"

"Shouldn't you know that I'm not going to tell you?" Fred said, shocked that his mother had dared to ask him such a question.

"I just thought I'd attempt to get something out of you."

"Didn't work, now, did it?"

"No." Molly took one last look at her young family before Fred threw the cloak over her again, and they were swept into nothingness.

***

***
Chapter Two- Kitchens and Kisses

This trip through time seemed to take longer than the past two. Molly was grateful when her feet touched the soft carpet and she felt secure once more. Looking around, she saw that she was in the apartment above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes - George's apartment. Like the rest of the building, the walls were bright orange and the carpet very green. The difference from the Burrow where she had last been was almost blinding.

Molly also noticed that there was a wreath hanging on the door to the staircase, enchanted so that it changed colour from red to green. George's apartment was a mess, but this wreath really reminded her of when Fred was alive. It had been his idea to enchant the wreaths, and George obviously did this for him.

Fred must have noticed the wreath as well, because when she turned around, he was grinning like an idiot, deep in thought. She could tell by the look on his face that he was proud of his brother for thinking of this, and glad that he did.

Molly noticed that the drapes she had given George for his apartment weren't hung up; this disappointed her slightly, but given it was Christmastime, she decided not to yell at him when she woke up from this crazy dream.

George walked into the room sleepily, apparently just out of bed. Molly looked at the neon orange clock in the corner; half past ten. She knew George wasn't an early bird, but it was Christmas Eve - he should have been up by now. George walked over to a charmed chilled box and pulled out a carton of milk. He drank straight from it, bringing a grimace to Molly's face and causing her to wonder how he survived without her.

It had been a few days since she had seen him, but she could tell that he hadn't been doing much. The apartment was a mess, with paper plates and take-out containers lying around everywhere. Fred's death had really hit him hard, and he was having a hard time living without anybody else around all the time.

George had still been able to decorate for Christmas, though. All of the usual Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes decorations were everywhere. George had used his business to keep his mind off his late brother this year, inventing new products for Christmas left and right. Molly wished she had something like that; it would have made this season much easier.

Fred turned slowly around, observing his brother's new living conditions. He was very happy that his brother was able to invent without him - the business would be down the drain if he wasn't. He saw a sprig of mistletoe over the counter, and the next thing he knew, it was over the sofa. George had charmed it to move periodically. A mischievous grin spread across his face; he had a faint idea what that was for.

George was now sitting at the kitchen table, reading the Daily Prophet , which had been left for him by an owl, along with a letter pertaining to his dues with the company. The headline on the front page said, Potter to be Married? Below was a picture of Harry, fallen on his knees during a snowball fight, with Ginny pulling him up. The Prophet still published lies and overreactions to daily events, such as this snowball fight.

If Molly thought the stupidity of the Prophet was unbearable, George was even worse. He scowled and almost crushed the milk carton when he read the headline. "Stupid gits," he grumbled. "Can't tell a Hippogriff from a Thestral, let alone a proposal from someone helping someone else up."

After George was finished with his newspaper, he got up and returned to his bedroom. Molly and Fred didn't have long to wait before he walked back in, sporting a Muggle t-shirt and jeans, ready for a good day at home.

He quickly got to work adding more decorations to his apartment. About five minutes into his work, he must have decided it was too quiet, and whipped out his wand. He gave it a wave, and Jingle Bell Rock began to play out of nowhere. George had always enjoyed Muggle music, particularly the Christmas tunes.

As the music played and George worked on putting up colour-changing wreaths, moving mistletoe and other creations, Molly admired her son's resolve. This soon after the battle, she was barely able to do the laundry without breaking out into sobs, but her son seemed to be having no trouble. She was sure this was very saddening for him, but he plowed through like there was no tomorrow.

George seemed to be having much fun, twirling and waving his wand while dancing like a child to the music. He reminded Molly of Xenophilius Lovegood, not worried about what others - and maybe himself - thought. Of course, he had no idea that anybody was even watching him, but if it had been Molly, she would have been very self-conscious dancing around as he was.

Fred was watching his brother in awe as well. He had never, in his whole life, thought that he would see George, of all people, dancing by himself. Luna, yes. Ron, maybe. But George? Never! He soon found himself laughing uncontrollably, very glad that George could not see him, or hear him, for that matter. This sight was something he would never see again, and something that he would use against his brother when the time came.

George stopped abruptly, flicking his wand to turn off the music. It was almost as though he realized his mother and twin were watching his dance. As it turned out, though, he had heard steps on the stairs leading up to the apartment, as soon enough, there came a knock on the door. Fred was shocked, but Molly informed him that having lost one ear made the one George had left doubly strong.

George walked over to the door, a worried look on his face. Fred thought he probably wasn't expecting anybody, given his prior behavior. When George opened the door, he was face to face with Angelina Johnson, former Gryffindor Quidditch captain. Her dark skin reminded Fred of the days he had spent with her while in school, and he sighed at the thought. He missed her.

"Hello, George," Angelina said, her soft voice contradicting her height. "I thought I would stop by with my present."

"Er," George looked awkward. "Thanks. Um, would you like to come in?"

Angelina nodded and crossed the doorway into the apartment. She surveyed all the take-out containers and the now empty milk carton on the table, a look of understanding in her eyes. She removed a small package from her coat pocket and held it out to George. "I know it's not much, but I figured it would make you feel better about everything."

George closed the door and sat down on the sofa. Angelina followed, watching as he peeled the wrapping paper from the box. She watched him open it, and followed the look on his face carefully, as though waiting for something in particular. He pulled out of the box a square picture frame, with three people grinning and waving in it.

"It's you, and me, and Fred," she explained, pointing out each person as she went. "In our second year, when we all made the Quidditch team."

George's face turned redder as he tried not to cry. This was the best present he could ask for. Molly was almost reduced to tears as well. She hated seeing her babies this upset.

George turned to Angelina and gave her a warm hug. "Thank you."

Angelina accepted his hug, patting his back kindly. The look on her face was full of affection for George. "I miss those days."

George pulled away, a reminiscent smile on his face. "Me too."

Quiet returned to the apartment. It wasn't so much an awkward silence as it was a thoughtful one. Angelina broke it, seemingly reluctantly. "I'll see you around, then."

"Alright." George walked Angelina to the door, never once stopping to put down his photo. They paused before opening the door, looking at each other silently.

George stepped forward and gave Angelina one last goodbye hug. Before pulling away, he left a soft kiss on her cheek. She didn't object.

When the pair broke away, they gazed into one another's eyes for a moment longer, before Angelina pulled open the door. She gave a quick wave before turning and walking down the stairs to the main shop. George watched her leave, his eyes conveying his emotions: a mix of happiness from the photo she had given him and sadness from her short visit. Molly and Fred could tell that he had wanted Angelina to stay longer.

When Fred turned to look at his mother, he saw that she was a wreck. She was sobbing into her sleeve, and had sat down on the floor. She really did hate to see her children upset. George had become especially difficult to watch lately, what with his grief for Fred. Seeing him kissing Angelina had made her even more upset.

Fred walked over and sat down next to his mother. He tried to comfort her, hugging her, patting her back as Angelina had done for George, telling jokes; anything to help her. They stayed that way for a long time, moving occasionally to keep George from tripping over them.

George had continued his decorating, but with less vigor than before. He was obviously upset, missing Angelina.

He took breaks for lunch and dinner, and it was getting very late before he finally stopped. He walked into his bedroom, and Molly, who had overcome her sobs, followed with Fred. They waited until he was done changing, which he did in the bathroom, and watched him climb into bed. This was the longest they had stayed for one trip through time, and Molly loved it.

George fell asleep after laying awake for a while. He had his photo from Angelina in his hands, and was looking at it sadly, remembering those times, when there had been little to worry about. He was only twelve in this picture. His face showed that he was thinking about the kiss he had shared with Angelina today, and his mixed feelings because of it. Was that something wrong to do, since she had gone to the Yule Ball with Fred? Would he be mad at him if he knew he had done that?

Little did he know, Fred was in the room with him, and had been since before the kiss. He didn't mind; he actually thought it was sweet, and right. He wasn't alive anymore, and Angelina was no longer his girlfriend. George needed her more than he did. They were right for each other.

When George finally fell asleep, Fred waited a moment, and walked over to his side. He kneeled down next to him, and began stroking his hair. Molly was shocked at this gesture; she had never seen anything like this from her most rowdy sons. "Fred," she said, choking a little from the tears that were still left unshed. "What are you doing? You'll wake him up!"

"No, Mum," Fred answered. His tone told her that he was holding back tears as well. "Remember when you used to do this for us?"

Molly did. "I only did that for you two. It woke everyone else up."

Fred nodded, and Molly realized why he was doing what he was. It had never woken George up, and Fred was feeling for him because of the events of the day. Molly watched her sons, proud of Fred for his affection towards his brother.

And there they sat, for a long while. When finally he felt ready to leave, Fred got up. Molly followed suit, moving to stand next to her son. Without a word, Fred got out his cloak and threw it over his mother's shoulders.

With one last glance at his twin, Fred thought of home.

***

***
Chapter 3- Snowballs and Stuffing

Upon landing on the ground once more, Molly looked around nervously, wondering where she was now, and what time it was. She was shocked to find that she was in her own home again, and it looked almost exactly how she had left it. There was one discrepancy, though- her entire kitchen was filled with decorations. She knew she hadn't left it like this; she hadn't even bought anything, and some of this definitely looked foreign.

There were new holiday kitchen towels hanging where there were no longer normal ones. Drapes had been hung in vibrant Christmas colors - red, green, white and of course gold. Wreaths adorned the walls.

When Molly looked out the window, she saw that there was a family of snow-people in the front yard. This was a Christmas tradition that had been in her family for years - one snow-person for each member of the family. She hadn't gotten around to arranging it this year, so why were they there?

"See how happy it would be if you got in the Christmas spirit, Mum?" Fred asked, pulling out a bottle of eggnog from the refrigerator. He seemed much happier than he had been when they left George's.

Molly did see, and she was just about to turn to Fred and tell him that when she saw George peek from around a pile of snow. He hurled a snowball over the mound, which hit Ginny square in the face. She loved watching her children have these snowball fights. She didn't know they had had them without her this year.

Harry jumped up from behind another pile of snow near Ginny and flung his snowball George's way. Molly smiled as Harry brushed the snow off Ginny's face and leaned in for a kiss. This didn't make her as sad as George and Angelina's kiss had, but it still made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"Yoo hoo!" Fred shouted right behind her, startling her and causing her to practically jump out of her skin. "Earth to Mum!"

"What on Earth are you doing?" Molly was aghast at her son's behavior.

"I asked you if you wanted to go out there," Fred looked taken aback at his mother's reaction. "Maybe we can scare them."

"I thought we couldn't be seen." Molly said, wondering where he was going with this.

"We can't," Fred replied, that mischievous grin spreading across his face once more. "But that doesn't mean they won't feel it when we hit them with snowballs."

Molly smiled and followed her son outside. As soon as she opened the door, her smile broadened as she watched her family enjoying themselves in the freshly fallen snow. They looked like they were having such a grand time. She wondered where she was while all this was going on outside.

Her question was soon answered when she saw herself edge around a gigantic snow drift, snowball in hand. Without looking, she threw it over her shoulder. Molly watched it land right on its target - Percy's face. She chuckled warmly, thinking about her secret strategy that made that possible every time. She watched the delight on her own face, and wondered how she had had the time to pull all of this together.

Again it was as though Fred read her thoughts. "You know, this is what this Christmas will be like, assuming you decide to actually do something."

Molly let those words sink in. Assuming you decide to actually do something.

She wasn't doing much to prepare for Christmas this year. She never let her family touch her decorations, not even Arthur. Something about this nagged at Molly, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. Something was wrong with that picture. But what was it?

She continued to watch as she and her family had their snowball fight, laughing quietly whenever Fred decided to join in. He always got them, since they couldn't see him. They all jumped when a snowball hit them seemingly out of nowhere. The rest of the family laughed openly at them, at least until they themselves were hit with one of Fred's balls.

Molly was confused, not just about this particular snowball fight, but the entire adventure with Fred in general. This shouldn't have been possible; Fred was dead. She had been dealing with the stress of that fact for months now, never completely letting it sink in. Was this entire thing just a really vivid dream? It couldn't be, could it? But Harry had had his dreams before he defeated Voldemort; was this like those dreams?

In the middle of all her thoughts, the Molly she was watching announced that it was time for Christmas dinner. From all kinds of snow banks and piles came her entire family. Arthur emerged from behind the same drift Molly was behind. Bill and Fleur also appeared, followed by Charlie, home for Christmas from Romania.

From Harry and Ginny's snow pile came Percy and Ron, laughing and still collecting snow for one last throw. Molly watched her family go into the house; she and Fred followed after they were all inside. She watched herself wave her wand and she saw all their food appear on the table. There was the enormous turkey, with stuffing and gravy surrounding it. There were mashed potatoes, green beans and rolls of every shape and size. The entire table was filled with delicacies. It looked delicious.

Everybody sat down in their respective chairs, and started piling their plates with food. Molly loved holidays, mostly because their entire family could get together, even Charlie. She watched, wondering how the same things were happening this year even though the war had just ended. The family was able to do everything they normally did without Fred.

"They can do it because it's just one day," Fred informed her, "They'll go back to normal tomorrow, but they know the holidays are something to be celebrated and it can go on without me."

Molly thought about what her son had pointed out. Was this why he had taken her through all of this time? Was he trying to teach her about getting on without him for a day? She still didn't know how it was possible, but this reasoning made sense.

The family ate their dinner and talked about what they had been doing lately, enjoying the holiday. Nobody had had to work that day; nobody was at school. It was almost a normal holiday, as though the war had never happened. The only thing missing was Fred.

Suddenly, Arthur stood up, silencing the room better than a charm would. "I'd like to propose a toast."

The family raised their glasses and waited for Arthur to speak again. "To Fred, our son, brother, and friend. May he rest in peace."

"To Fred!" Everyone drank from their glasses, and Arthur sat down once more.

Now George stood up. "To Mum; we never would have been able to pull all of this together without her."

"To Mum!" Molly watched as her face went red and she hugged George. This was all too much for her. She turned to Fred and saw how her face must look: gratuitous and slightly embarrassed.

The family went back to eating, and soon enough, Molly was seeing herself bring in the pie she had prepared earlier that day for dessert. She cut it into slices for everyone, and they all ate as though they hadn't just had dinner. They were all talking a mile a minute, and really enjoying the holiday.

That was when Molly realized that it would be alright without Fred. He may have been the source of much fun on past holidays, but they could make it without him. They still had the rest of their family, and it was only for one day. One day without worrying. One day without shedding tears over her lost son. This was something she needed, and wanted with all her heart. She needed to let herself have fun.

Fred recognized the understanding on his mother's face, and was overjoyed that she finally got it. He had brought her on all of these trips to tell her what she had finally realized. She needed to take a day out of her mourning to spend time with her family, and not worry about Fred. He had succeeded in his endeavor.

They watched the family for the rest of that day. There were more snowball fights, and Angelina even came over for a while after dinner. George must have realized what Molly had, and spent a lot of time talking to her about days when they were young, interrupted every so often by kissing. He had realized he needed some fun as well. By the end of the night, he had asked her to be his girlfriend; she agreed.

It had been a wonderful day when everyone was finally ready to get to bed. George said goodbye to his new girlfriend, and Apparated back to his apartment. Bill and Fleur left to go back to Shell Cottage, and Harry departed for Grimmauld Place. Ron sent an owl to Hermione, who was in Australia looking for her parents. He quickly received a reply, telling him that she had found them and they would be back tomorrow.

Molly and Fred watched their family settle down for the night, grins on their faces. They had had just as good a time as the rest, enjoying every minute of this Christmas. It had been one of the best yet.

Fred walked over to sit next to his mother on a bench in the garden. "Are you ready to go back home?"

"We are home," Molly pointed out. "What do you mean?"

"Back to the present," Fred replied. "So you can live this day again."

"That would be great," Molly told her son. "How much longer can you stay?"

Fred stood up. "We'll have to find out."

He pulled out his cloak, and threw it over Molly's shoulders one last time. Then he thought of the kitchen the day before, and they disappeared.

***

***
Epilogue- Converse and Conclude

Back to the present.

Fred had said they were going back to the present.

They landed on solid ground once more, and for the first time, Molly didn't stumble at all. Proud of herself, she looked around. She was back in her kitchen once more, but this time, it looked exactly how she had left it. She looked towards the table, expecting to find the laundry basket, but instead, she was looking at herself. Herself? How was that possible? She was sleeping, in that uncomfortable position she had been in before this whole adventure.

"Fred..." she was shocked. Fred walked over and stood behind her.

"Oh, yeah," he began. "I forgot to tell you that you would see yourself. You're dreaming, and this is your dream. I know it's confusing," he said as his mother began to protest. "What you're seeing now is your dream, and we're home, right where you were before we left."

"So this has all been a dream?" Molly was confused; she had convinced herself that this was reality, and she was awake.

"Yeah," Fred said. "You're asleep."

Molly looked stunned. Fred felt horrible about the entire thing; he should have told her sooner. This wouldn't have been as big of a shock if she wasn't looking at herself sleeping. He decided he had better tell her the whole story.

"Er, Mum?" he said tentatively. "There's some stuff I have to tell you."

Molly nodded, and sat down in another chair at the table. She figured this had better be a long explanation, and she wanted to be comfortable. There was also the possibility she would faint, and she wanted to be sitting down.

"Well," Fred started. "You were really depressed. I can see everything, being dead and all, and I was watching you mope around like a lost dog. It sucks, you know, watching your mum day and night, all sad and stuff."

Molly understood what he meant. She hated seeing her children upset, and when her mother was depressed after her brothers died, she hated watching that, too.

"I decided that I needed to do something about it." Of course he did, he always did.

"I waited for a good time to come, and I thought this was the best since nobody's around and it's nighttime, so no one will miss you. They all think you're asleep, which you are, but you can't wake up until I say so."

Great. Her most rowdy and joking son had complete control as to whether or not she would wake up. Molly frowned and crossed her arms across her chest. This wasn't getting any better.

"So I took you to the past to show you that Christmas is a happy time or whatever, to the present so you could see how other people are dealing with their grief, and to the future, to show you what Christmas will be like if you decide to do something and get over me for a day."

Fred looked hopefully at his mother, wondering if she would be angry with him. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised when she got up out of her chair and gave him a giant hug. Unfortunately, her arms went right through him and she fell over.

"Mum!" Fred kneeled down to help his mother up. "Are you alright?"

"Hmph," Molly answered, brushing her hair back from her face. "Why did you let me do that?"

"I didn't think you would," Fred told her honestly. "I thought you would be angry."

"Angry?" Molly was shocked that her son would think such a thing. "Why in the world would I be angry?"

"You looked angry," Fred said. "You didn't seem happy that only I can wake you up."

"Oh, Fred," Molly's voice was softer now as she stood up. "I would never be angry with you. You aren't with us anymore, and every chance I get to hug you, I'm going to take."

Fred backed away. "Remember, you'll fall right through me."

Molly remembered. She had just fallen down because of his being a ghost. "Wait," she had thought of another question to ask. "You are a ghost, right?"

"No," he replied, a grin spreading across his face. "I prefer spirit."

Molly laughed, and Fred joined in, glad that his mother wasn't angry with him. When they were finally able to stop, Fred posed a question that Molly was expecting would come eventually.

"Will you enjoy Christmas?"

Molly thought for a moment, scaring Fred a little. He was worried that all of his efforts wouldn't work, and she would be stuck at the table with a laundry basket forever. Please let her say yes, he thought.

"Of course."

Fred wished he could hug her now more than ever. Unfortunately, that was impossible, though, and he had to settle for the most grateful look he had ever given her. "Thank you, Mum."

Molly wanted to hug her son as well, but instead, she looked at the clock. It read a quarter past midnight. She thought of all the things she had to do before they could actually celebrate, and sadly asked an inevitable question. "Will you wake me up now?"

"Yes," Fred said, the smile wiped off his face.

"Will you ever come back?" Molly wished she could spend more time with him, but she knew he had to go.

"Maybe someday," Fred answered. "Just don't get too upset again, because I don't want to come because I have to. I want to come because I want to."

Before Molly could reply, Fred took out his cloak and threw it over her shoulders, and her alone this time. "Goodbye, Mum." He snapped his fingers, and he was gone.

***

Molly woke up with a start. She felt her shoulders, and the bright orange cloak was still there: her Christmas present from Fred. She thought about all she had been through in the past forty-five minutes, and all of the things she had seen.

She had relived two of her happiest Christmases, seen George at his apartment with Angelina, and even seen what would happen today. She sat up, rubbing her arm, which had been underneath her.

Molly knew she needed to start on preparations, as she was horribly behind. Luckily, that nap she had taken still refreshed her, even through her vivid dreams. She picked up her laundry basket and got to work.

She hung up drapes to match her family's, hung wreaths on the doors, and headed outside to start the snow-people. She conjured ingredients to make cookies and cakes of all different kinds. She worked until she could work no more. Then she walked up to her and Arthur's room, and got into bed to catch another hour or two of sleep.

When Molly woke up in the morning, it was to cheers of delight and surprise downstairs. Her family had seen her efforts from the night before. She quickly made her way downstairs, and told her family of her dreams.

The rest of the day went how normal Christmases went. The whole family got together, including Harry, and they had their snowball fights and dinner. The family marveled at the snow-people in the yard, and ate many of Molly's desserts. It was a wonderful time for them all.

During the toasts, Molly added one more- "To Fred again, for putting this day together."

"To Fred!"

And up in the heavens, Fred grinned his mischievous grin.

***