A/N: Thank you so much for all of your lovely, loving, and wonderful reviews. I was going to skip ahead a bit, but I felt like George & Katie needed some extra time with their families and so this chapter was born. More narrative progress next time, I promise. Cheers!

Katie groaned as she shifted her sleeping position, dimly aware that the carpet fibers were pressing into the side of her face and creating a red and blotchy pattern. She hesitantly opened her eyes, blinking twice to find Michael's elbow inches from her face. She frowned as she took in the rest of him, spread eagle next to her and sleeping soundly. Her parents were a few feet away, also asleep on their living room floor, their arms around one another. Katie smiled softly. The family had dozed off around two o'clock in the morning after talking until they could no longer keep their eyelids open. The house was quiet around them and excepting an occasional grunt from her brother, her family slept in peace. All was well. Still well. She shifted slightly out of the reach of Michael's limbs, and then closed her eyes, smiling as she once more returned to sleep.

XxX

The squeaking of her wet Converse on the hardwood floor seemed about a thousand times louder to Katie at three in the morning when she was attempting not to be heard than in the afternoon when her mother complained about her muddy footprints. Go figure.

She took a deep breath and continued onward, only getting about two more steps before she heard "Hominem Revelio!" She felt herself being jerked somewhere behind her navel and before she knew what was happening, she was pulled into the sitting room to face her father, tell-tale broom in hand.

Katie winced and attempted to be sporting.

"Hello, Dad," she said cheerily. "How are things?"

Nicolas Bell raised an eyebrow. "They'd be quite a bit better if my only daughter was asleep in her bed," she said carefully in a voice Katie recognized as slightly dangerous.

"I quite agree, which is why I was just headed that direction now…" she said quickly, gripping her Nimbus 1995 and making a quick dash for the stairs.

"Not so quickly, young lady, if you don't mind." And with a lazy flick of her father's wand, Katie found herself suspended upside down by her ankle, broom clattering unhelpfully to the floor. Resigned now, she folded her arms and let out a huff of air.

"Oh, fine, so I was sneaking out," she admitted. "You've caught me. Can we skip to the part where we laugh about it and agree not to tell Mum?"

"Absolutely not, Kathryn, you'll listen to me from right where you are."

"Kathryn? Who the bloody hell is Kath—"

"Katie!" Nicolas said in such a strong tone that she immediately fell silent.

"Death Eaters were at the World Cup just three days ago! A breakout at Azkaban, and my daughter thinks it's alright to stay out all hours of the night doing God knows what—"

"Fred knows how to apparate!" Katie said somewhat defensively.

"Fred Weasley is sixteen!" her father retorted. "As are you, I might remind you…"

He sighed and sat down again, rubbing the crease between his eyes.

"Do you have any idea what it's like for a head deputy in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to find his daughter out of bed in the middle of the night and not be able to locate where she's gone?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Katie frowned. "I'm sorry, Dad," she muttered.

He just shook his head and waved his wand, ending the enchantment. Katie floated down to the floor, righted herself, and sat next to him, putting her hand on his back.

"How does Fred know how to apparate already?" Nicolas asked after a pause.

Katie shrugged. "He practices," she answered. "And he's Fred."

"What were the pair of you doing, anyway?"

Even in the darkness of the sitting room, it was possible to discern a slight twinge in Katie's cheeks and she looked off into a far corner of the room.

"Oh God," her father groaned.

"No, nothing like that," Katie quickly corrected. "George was with us. Well, at least for a while…we played Quidditch. And for the record, he cast all of those protective spells you and Mr. Weasley taught us around the area we were playing, so…"

Nicolas just shook his head. "Well at least one of you was thinking clearly," he muttered. "If you absolutely have to date one of the Weasley twins, can't it at least be the sensible one?"

Katie laughed loudly. "George would kill you if he knew you ever referred to him as sensible," she said, getting up. "And all of Hogwarts would die of shock…"

She made to go up the stairs to her room, but her father caught hold of her arm.

"Kathryn?" he said, seriously again. She turned.

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're alright."

She smiled slightly at his careworn face. "Me too," she said, giving him a hug and a swift kiss on the cheek. Night, Dad."

"Be careful," he whispered into her ear, barely audible. "I can't protect you forever."

She pulled away, looking somewhat concerned. He smiled and shook his head free of the weightiness and the tension.

"But I will while you're under this roof," he said. "I promise. Now…off to bed at this instant and I promise no word to your mother."

XxX

George drummed his fingers listlessly on the kitchen table of the Burrow and stared out at the heavy rain that was falling on the countryside of Ottery St. Catchpole. The Sunday afternoon was a quiet one; with Ginny gone at school and Ron having moved out with Harry, it was just his parents at home. The surfeit of emotions that had followed him since the revelation that it was Katie's father, and not Oliver Wood, whom she had left with the previous night were multiplying and weighing him down, dashing out in all possible directions. He had slept with Parvati Patil…Katie would find this out. What would she think? Would she even have room in her head to think anything? Katie had her father back…her family was complete. His was not. He was still missing something; he was still half of a whole. And somehow, in the wake of all this, he had ended up at his parents' house. His pretense was to share the news of Mr. Bell's return. His reality was to seek shelter from the unceasing downpour of his mental frame.

His mother was now scrubbing the dishes from the French onion soup they had eaten for lunch, and his father was still seated at the table, eyeing him thoughtfully. George was aware of this and avoided Mr. Weasley's gaze as carefully as possible.

"It's just wonderful, isn't it?" Mrs. Weasley said for what must have been the fiftieth time that afternoon. "After all of this sorrow and heartache, Meda and her family finally have some sunlight. They deserve it more than anyone, I suppose…family whittled down to just two of them, suddenly to have everyone back together under the same roof. Bless me, I don't know how long it's been since she's had reason to smile…have you heard from Katie, Georgie? Did she say what their plans are? I'd take a holiday, that much I know…"

"Don't know, Mum," George mumbled, still staring at the faded tablecloth.

He couldn't help but agree with her, of course. He might as well start packing Katie's things away for her now. There was not a chance she would want to go back to living with him and Lee after this. He thought idly—one of the many avenues this development had taken him down—of what he himself would do if it had been Fred who had shown up outside the door and his family was suddenly complete once again. He would not return to the dingy flat with Lee and Katie; that much was certain. He wasn't even sure he would be selfless enough to share the news with them. He would go away. They would—together, somewhere far away from where they were now. George wouldn't tell anyone, not even his family, that Fred had returned. It wouldn't matter; it wouldn't even occur to them that they ought to. It would just be the pair of them, like it used to be, without a care for anyone or anything beyond the fact that they were reunited at last. And they would start all over again and never look back. Not once.

Mrs. Weasley hummed something inconsequential and stepped outside to empty the trash can. The door swung shut again, but not before bringing in a small puddle of rainwater on the tiled floor.

"George?" His father's voice brought him out of his thoughts and he turned his eyes toward the balding ginger across from him.

"What's up, Dad?" he asked, a little disconnectedly.

"How are you feeling today?" The question was a simple one, but George somehow felt his father knew exactly how he was feeling and probably even the reasons why. He just shrugged in lieu of an actual reply.

Arthur considered him and then leaned back slightly in his chair.

"You know," he said quietly, after a measured pause. "I was telling your mother the other night…there's nothing quite as entirely devastating as to lose your child. Nothing quite ever touches it. I'm sorry, George, but it's true. You just don't know what it's like—the utter unfairness of having to bury someone you've watched grow from the time they were no bigger than a bowtruckle. You raise them; you know everything about them. Every weakness, every strength, every turn of their countenance. You watch how they react to certain sets of circumstances and you can tell, to some degree, how they'll behave in the future. And believe it or not, George, your mother and I know you, just as we knew Fred. Maybe it's because there were two of you, I don't know, but we got to see everything—not duplicated—but intensified. You were individuals, both of you. Both incredibly brave, both fiercely loyal and fiendishly clever, but individuals. Nothing will ever make up for losing Fred—it can't even come close. And none of us will even be quite complete again. But George…I tell you this and I mean it; we have been so fortunate to have you. You've saved us all, in a way. Simply by being you."

"Oh yeah, and how's that?" George asked, finally meeting his father's eye line. Arthur's eyes were glistening with tears.

"You're fearless. And steady. And you carry on when no one else can."

George slowly studied his father's face.

"That's what makes you an individual," Arthur said quietly.

George felt his eyes well up with tears and he made no attempt to quell them. The two men stood up and embraced. He had not known it before, but this was exactly what he had needed to hear.

XxX

When Katie awoke for the second time, it was to the smell of fried ham and biscuits. She smiled, eyes still closed, trying to capture hold of the last few seconds of her departing dream, to stay in her father's arms just a little while longer. His voice, however, was now what jolted her back into reality.

"Breakfast's on!" Nicolas Bell shouted from the kitchen. "Those having a lie in are given no mercy."

Katie opened her eyes and sat up, only to be knocked down again by her brother's feet. Michael stumbled over her after his untimely leap into the air, and without pausing to help her up, dashed into the kitchen. "Sorry Kates!" he yelled. "But breakfast is a serious business."

"So it would seem," she muttered darkly, rubbing her head where his foot had made contact. She hoisted herself back up and peered into the kitchen. From what she could see, her father was flipping biscuits into the air while her mother held onto his free arm and leaned against him, kissing his cheek. Michael now skidded to a halt, wormed his way between them and grabbed a piece of ham fresh from the skillet.

"God, that's hot!" he yelped as soon as the meat touched his tongue.

"You've raised such intelligent children, my dear," Mr. Bell remarked dryly, though a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. Katie grinned at this, quickly got up and slid on the balls of her socked feet into the kitchen.

"Morning, Dad!" she said cheerily, also worming her way between her parents to give her father a tight hug.

"Hullo, Katie Did," he returned pleasantly, kissing the top of her head. "Still clingy today, are we?"

"Only slightly," she answered, smiling.

"Is Aunt Liz not in yet?" Michael asked suddenly, glancing up the stairs.

"Yes, where is your sister?" their father seconded. "Haven't been able to scare her yet…"

Andromeda rolled her eyes. "I expect she's stayed the night with Daryl," she said, barely concealing her disapproval.

Katie scrunched her nose. "Who is Daryl?" she asked.

Andromeda shrugged her shoulders in a way that suggested she knew quite a bit more than she let on. "Some American Quidditch person who's been in the country collecting information to help improve the league there," she answered. "Elizabeth has been seeing him for about a month now."

"Hold on," her daughter said, folding her arms in front of her chest. "Was this the date you supposedly approved of her missing the Weasley's for? In a not so subtly disguised attempt at guilting me for not seeing Oliver Wood?"

Her mother struggled uncomfortably. "That was a different matter," she finally settled on. "I didn't think it would turn serious…"

The entire family laughed and decried the sentiment, and soon they were settled around the table and eating the hot and delicious meal. Afterward, Michael quickly 'called' the shower and dashed upstairs to stake his claim while Meda disappeared into the sitting room.

"Better owl Elizabeth and make sure she really is in the throws of passion and not unconscious in a ditch somewhere…"

Nicolas laughed and collected the dishes to place in the sink. "Your mother's such a positive figure," he said playfully as he gazed across the kitchen at his daughter.

Katie simply smiled and unconsciously twirled the engagement band whose chain had managed to escape the t-shirt of her jim jams in the night. The glint of the silver caught her father's eye and he instantly sobered, a sad half-smile forming across his face.

"I was so very devastated when I heard about Fred," he said quietly. "Even more so because I had no way to contact you. I'm so sorry, Katie Did."

Katie frowned and looked down at the simple ring on the chain. "Thanks," she answered, barely audible. "So am I."

Mr. Bell considered her for a moment, then crossed the room and encased her hand in his own.

"The people we love never really leave us," he said gently. "They make us who we are. And until we forget that, we'll never be alone."

Katie felt her throat tighten, but said nothing.

"Do you remember when I told you I would always protect you as long as you were under this roof?" he continued after a slight pause.

Slightly surprised by this coincidence, Katie simply nodded.

"You've never needed me to," he said, amused but a little ruefully. "You've been doing that for yourself as long as I can remember."

Katie now smiled back, returning the pressure on her father's hand.

XxX