"Mum."

"Charlie." Molly Weasley reached a hand to touch her second son's soot-covered face, brushing a clump of hair from his eyes. "I wasn't sure you'd be here in time. You're not hurt?" Her eyes widened anticipating a positive answer, a small smile upon her lips.

"No, Mum. I'm fine," he said quietly.

"What about that cut?" She didn't touch it, but her pointing finger got very close to the jagged line that followed his collarbone.

Charlie took her smaller hand in his. The rough calluses from his years of dragon handling rubbed against her softer hands, both equally dirty from the battle. "Mum."

"What is it Charlie?" Molly smiled kindly up at her son. "Charlie?"

"Re-grouping!" The shout came from the dais, drawing her attention away. "Group leaders join me here!" Kingsley's voice boomed over the din of the Great Hall.

Molly turned towards that end of the Hall. "I need to find your father." She took one step away, but Charlie's firm grip on her elbow caused her to stop and return to him.

"Dad's not there, Mum. He's with Fred."

"Where's Fred?"

"He's –"

She could see moistness forming in Charlie's eyes. The dirt and smoke must be getting to him, she thought. Charlie gripped his mother's arm tighter, silent, his body seeming to fight against itself as he quivered and then stilled. He released her elbow and grabbed her hands in his, tightly clutching her fingers.

"Mum. It's Fred, Mum. He was with Percy, and Ron and he, they, were attacked. He's gone, Mum. He's dead. Fred's gone," he choked out. The entire time Charlie spoke she was staring into her son's blue eyes, his tears now streaming freely, leaving clear tracks through the dirt smudged on his face.

Her own face tightened and she fought against the urge to burst into tears. This was not true! She wrenched her hands from his. "No!" she shouted.

She turned on her heel, intent on getting away from Charlie, but he grabbed her by the shoulders. She didn't know what to make of this. Charlie would never lie about something so serious, he would never grab her so forcefully, but he must be mistaken. Fred was not dead. He spun her around so roughly, her mouth flew open in shock.

"Mummy," he pleaded, "please don't make me say it again." He finally released her and stood, shaking, and unable to keep himself under control any longer, his tears came faster and when Molly took a step towards him, he practically collapsed into her arms and they were both sobbing and clinging to each other until the temporary hysteria subsided.

Charlie took his mother's hand and squeezed it gently. "Are you ready?"

She looked around at the controlled chaos. There were wounded being tended and troops being marshaled. She didn't see Arthur. She needed to see her husband. She barely heard Charlie's voice when he repeated his appeal, but she answered in a soft voice. "No. I'm not. Let's find your father. Is he –"

Charlie nodded and they made their way through the Great Hall. People were clustered in groups, some loud with the sounds of impending victory, others more subdued and yet others, like the cluster of redheads they ultimately encountered, were hushed and somber. Of course, she knew that the ginger heads bowed together were hers, but it was the shock of bright red against the gray of the stone floor that really caught her attention and she stopped walking, seeing her dead son on the floor. Charlie stopped with her, and Molly felt his eyes on her, but she only had eyes for Fred. There was someone kneeling at his head, and beyond Bill's boot she could make out the curve of Fred's ear, his hair falling aside, revealing a scorch mark on his cheek and a tear in the shoulder of his shirt. She stared at the place that his vivid hair touched the dull floor. She didn't know how to take the steps to reach him. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears and everything else in the Great Hall stilled around her. She chewed on her lip, wondering if she ran away fast enough, this could have been a dream, but no, she knew in her heart that it was a nightmare and it was only beginning.

Charlie tugged her hand, but she wouldn't move; couldn't move, and she dropped her hands to her side, playing idly in the folds of her robes.

She felt it as it happened. The feeling began so suddenly, the sensation of lightheadedness, and she knew that she hadn't fainted, but she also knew that she was no longer in the Great Hall.

She stood in the kitchen of the Burrow, washing the dishes. Percy was taking care of Fred and the sounds coming from the sitting room were peaceful. Little Ginny and Ronald were playing and George was napping. He was always so tired. Molly really hoped that he wasn't coming down with Goblin Flu. There was a very serene air about the house and then Bill came rushing into the kitchen carrying poor Percy. His glasses were askew and he was untying his bound hands, sputtering about Fred this and George that, and Molly shrieked, dropping the pan to clatter in the sink.

When she arrived in the sitting room, she found Ginny and Ron sitting in the center of the bare floor, piles and piles of ginger-colored hair all around them on the floor. Ginny looked like a wood nymph, her hair short and choppy, laughing. And Ron, well, Ron looked a bit like his grandfather after the mishap with the shears.

She was silent for a moment, and looked from one twin to the next until finally, her eyes fell upon the scissors in his hand. His left hand. Fred.

"Fred Weasley," she said in a hushed, hoarse, scream that was more silent than scream. He dropped the scissors next to Ginny, turning to bolt. "Fred! I could kill you!"

The hand on her arm brought her out of this remembrance. She expected Charlie, but looked into her husband's eyes. There were no words for either of them. He gently put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his body, holding her as close as he could. Her body began to shake and his echoed her movements until he separated from her, and taking her hand, leading her over to their dead son, where she collapsed to her knees at his side, bending her body over his, her back shaking with sobs. Everyone took a step back except for George, who didn't move from his place of cradling his twin's head on his knees.

The Weasleys all took time away, meeting with their Group Leaders for the final battle except for Molly and George. They stayed with Fred for as long as they were able. Molly looked up and saw Ron holding Hermione's hand and smiled sadly. Then they were joined by Harry and she knew that the three of them were about to disappear again. She looked away. She couldn't bear to lose another. She looked down at Fred's face, so still and unchanged from when she'd first joined him on the floor and when she looked up to find Ron again, to tell him to take care, he was gone.

"Are you boys being nice to your new baby brother?"
"Yes, Mum," came the duet of answers, in unison as always.

Molly looked up from her knitting and glanced over at the pram near the kitchen door. Molly tried to get the boys outside every day when the weather was cooperating and today was one of those bright sunshiny days, no rain, no clouds, and very warm for April. She went back to her knitting, but noticed that the twins were not near the pram. Usually, they relished in tormenting the newest Weasley brother, and then the wheel caught her eye. It was moving; not rolling, but shaking as if the baby were moving about. Ronald was barely a month old. He shouldn't be able to move the pram to that degree, and then Molly caught sight of George, or was it Fred's face and the grin that was plastered on it. Oh yes, that must have been Fred. George was sitting on the steps reading Charlie's dragon book.

She didn't know why, but she thought something was amiss, and hurried over to the pram, peering inside.

"George," she said firmly, but quietly.

"It wasn't me, Mum."

"Fred!" she shrieked as she uncovered Ron only to discover that Ron wasn't in the pram. One of their garden gnomes was in the pram, a gag in his mouth, his hands and feet hog-tied. "Fred! Where is your brother?"

She turned to face Fred, who was holding Ron and grinning. Molly pulled out her wand and released the gnome, replacing him in the pram, with tiny Ron. She turned back to Fred, who was already running away towards the orchard. She shouted after him, "Fred! I could kill you!"

There was a loud clatter from the dais and Molly turned her head towards Kingsley and Minerva. Madam Hooch had just arrived with a few of the Quidditch players, and began lining up the broomsticks that they had brought. She looked at Arthur and he nodded. He left her to see what they needed at the dais, their place for organizing the command. He pressed a firm hand on her shoulder before going, and she nodded, watching him walking away. He was handed a broom and he shook his head, but called Charlie over to see if he would want to try his hand against the Giants on the broom. Molly saw it as clearly as if it were today; that day in Fred's fourth year, practicing.

Everyone was excited about the Quidditch Cup being held so close by. They were excited about the free tickets that Arthur had gotten. Harry would be arriving tomorrow, but until then everyone was either cleaning the house, fixing the garden or playing Quidditch on the pitch. More than once, Molly had to tell the boys to slow down. She gave a withering look to Ginny, who was peeling carrots, and Hermione smirked as she peeled the potatoes. She knew that Ginny wanted to be out there on the pitch with her brothers, but had deigned to stay with her and Hermione getting things ready for Harry's arrival.

Molly's attention was drawn away from the peeling of vegetables to Percy and George carrying Fred between them. His leg was twisted under him, and it was obvious that it was broken, and in more than one place.

They placed him on the sofa of the sitting room, and Molly went about straightening his leg, using a variety of numbing potions and moving spells until finally, his leg seemed in one piece and casted until later on. It would be better for him to go with Arthur to pick Harry up from his aunt's house. Molly put her hand on Fred's head, tousling his hair. "All the worry you put me through. You're too impulsive, Fred. I could kill you."

"Did you see the Giants?" Bill's whispered voice brought Molly back from the Burrow's sitting room. Percy nodded solemnly. All the Weasleys sat, waiting for new orders from Kingsley or McGonagall. They were all not staring at Fred, lying so still surrounded by them all. His friends came by, in ones and twos, afraid to speak. Angelina Johnson nodded towards Molly, who watched as she put a gentle hand on George's shoulder. Angelina's eyes were shining with some unshed tears. George was still kneeling at his brother's head despite all his siblings encouraging him to walk around. He shook his head at Angelina's quiet voice suggesting the same thing. Lee was there now. He gave Molly a long hug before he went over to George and sat beside him. He was almost the third twin, especially this year with his radio show, Potterwatch that the boys were so involved with.

The three cracks sounded in quick succession followed by an intense flurry of shouts and cries. "Quick! Hide!"
"Where?!"

"Attic!"

"With the ghoul?! Are you –"

"What's going on here? Fred? George? Are you both all right?"

The panicked voice of her husband brought Molly running from her bedroom. She had gone to bed early while Arthur stayed up reading and listening to another installment of Potterwatch when the shouts startled her out of her light sleep.

"What's going on here?" she shouted at her sons, trying to shove Lee Jordan up the stairs towards Ron's unused room.

"Hiding him," they both muttered in unison as Lee grunted still grumbling about sharing with the ghoul.

There were three cracks, the now-dreaded sound of Apparation from outside the kitchen door. Molly shrieked, but Arthur's hand over her mouth cut the sound off. She heard the two cracks from upstairs as the attic hatch closed and then Arthur's mouth covered hers in a passionate kiss. She didn't jump as their front door was broken down and the Death Eaters entered.

They were pulled apart roughly and the tallest Death Eater hit Arthur in the face. Molly gasped, almost not hearing the sound of one crack. The other two Death Eaters went tearing through the Burrow, opening doors, knocking things over. She saw Fred peering in from the kitchen, his wand steady as he sent the stunning spell at the man still threatening his father.

The man crumpled to the floor, concealing the crack of Fred's Disapparation.

Molly shook her head, mumbling to herself and her son, "I can't believe he's taking such chances. I could kill you, Fred."

"Molly." Arthur's voice was far away, but his hand was on her shoulder, gradually increasing the strength of his squeeze, trying to get her attention without startling her. Her hand was on Fred's shoulder. She didn't acknowledge her husband, only staring at her dead son's face. Percy said that he was laughing when he died. He was happy in that moment and there was no suffering. She didn't see it. She didn't see the smile. She only saw a life gone, a life she had given, taken away.

"Molly," Arthur repeated. "It's time, love. We need to move him." His voice cracked. "We need to move him, Molly. Voldemort's coming."

She nodded, but remained still. She didn't move when Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron lifted their brother's body between them. His head gently lolled back and they stepped around Molly and George, who also remained kneeling on the floor. Arthur helped Molly to stand, and she in turn reached out a hand to George. He took her hand, but remained kneeling for a moment more before joining her in the sad procession.

When Fred was settled, she leaned over his chest, her back shaking once more with sobs, her tears creating moist patches on his shirt, streaking the dirt on his face. She kissed him lightly, tenderly on his cheek and his forehead, and whispered, "Oh Fred," before stepping back to give George one last moment with his twin before they stepped once more into the breach to end this. Voldemort wouldn't come back after this. They wouldn't let him. She clasped her cloak and tightened the grip on her wand. The roars from outside thundered in her ears. George found Lee and Angelina, and Molly took Arthur's hand, and they began the journey to the doors of the entryway of the castle. It was time to end this.