***
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.
***
The Christmas Caller by ravenclaw1997
Story Notes:
This is one of my very first stories, and my first time entering a challenge. Wish me luck!
Chapter Notes: I really like the idea of this challenge; it's a great concept. Kudos to whoever came up with the idea!
More kudos go to OliveOil_Med, who beta'd this story for me. *claps enthusiastically* I couldn't have done it without you!
Chapter Endnotes: Well, I hope you liked it! All feedback is greatly appreciated, and I know people who make AMAZING cookies... *waves cookies in front of faces* You know you want some...