When Fred woke up, he was alone. He stretched his arms, cracking his aching back in the process. It took a moment or two for him to remember where he was and what the situation was.

St. Mungo's… Luna.

Fred ran a hand through his hair, his eyes searching for her. "Good morning, Fred Weasley." Croaked a voice from the other side of the room; Fred let out a sigh of relief and made his way to Luna and sat beside her against the wall. Luna barely looked at him and continued to stare at the floor as if a tile would pop out of place and begin singing and dancing.

"Luna… you were so happy…" Fred started; however, he couldn't seem to choke out the rest of the sentence. If he were his twin, he would know all the right sensitive words. Fred wasn't George though; he was the better looking twin who joked at all the wrong times. Luna brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, "The last time you saw me I suppose… everyone is suppose to be happy at weddings though."

She drew in a breath, "Oh, Fred, you were always a nice boy. You and your twin both were so nice to me, same with Hermione, Harry, and Ginny." She paused, "And Neville…"

Fred swallowed, if there was anything he could take back, it was his constant jokes about Neville. He was a war hero.

"He kissed me in the Astronomy Tower, you know, during the war… Said that he loved me and one day we'd marry. Then he had to go help, and after that I never saw him again…" Tears were spilling out of her eyes but somehow she managed to continue.

"So many people were gone after the war, I tried to pull it together, you know, for daddy? But Daddy had gotten the Dementor's Kiss while he was in Azkaban… And people still treated me like I was loony. People still made fun of me, especially Slytherins. No one ever visits me… I was just lonely." Finally Luna's bright blue eyes met Fred's gray-blue ones.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was so low she nearly whispered it. Fred hung his head low, "Mum and Dad live so near you, I should have attempted to visit you… invite you over for the Sunday dinners…" Guilt was washing over him.

They fell into a comfortable silence before Healer Verch stepped in. "Excuse me, Mr. Weasley? Miss Lovegood needs her rest…" Fred looked at Luna.

"I'll be fine, Fred." She promised.

"GRAND'MERE!" Shrieked a ten year old Victoire while pulling at her hair. Molly Weasley rushed into the bedroom, "What is it dear?" She asked with a worried expression; however she couldn't seem to contain her giggles when she saw Victoire's hair. Once it was a silvery blonde with long tousled curls, and now it was a short green frizz. "Grand'Mere look at what James did!" Victoire shrieked.

Molly rushed to her granddaughter with her wand chuckling a bit, "Oh, Victoire, James is just a three-year-old. He doesn't know…" Victoire growled. Molly giggled a bit and when she was done fixing Victoire's hair, she headed downstairs to answer a rapping at the door.

"Oh, Freddie dear…" She didn't like the way her son looked. His eyes had dark bags under them, he was paler than usual, and his red hair looked messy as if he had been running his hands through it too many times.

James Sirius Potter was looking at his grandmother and his Uncle Freddie through the window, Uncle Freddie looked sad. So like any wise three –year –old would do, he rushed outside and wrapped his arms around Uncle Freddie's leg. "Uncle Freddie don't be sad!" James pleaded. Fred chuckled and ruffled James's already messy red hair.

"I'm okay, Kid. Go inside and mess with your cousins." James looked pleased by the idea and ran inside.

"Luna's a mess, mum. Neville proposed to her, now he's gone. Her dad is an empty shell. She lives about a mile or two away and we don't bloody visit her." Fred rubbed the bridge of his nose, "To think that while I've been shagging girls every night, Luna has been trying to kill herself."

When he realized what he said, the tips of his ears turned bright red. Thankfully, his mum pretended not to hear. Most likely because of the state he was in, and he would most likely receive hell for it later. Molly smiled warmly at him and patted his arm, "Oh, Freddie. You'll be able to help her. You can always make people smile." She wrapped her arms around him.

When they pulled away Molly guided him inside the burrow, "Now come in, I'm about to start lunch."

Fred smiled to himself, even at twenty – eight years of age, he could always count on his mum for encouraging words, and lunch.