***WARNING, POSSIBLE TRIGGER AHEAD. Strong theme of death in this chapter. READERS DISCRETION ADVISED. WARNING***

Molly Weasley looked upon her family as she smiled through her tears. In a few short hours her family had healed, shrunk, grown and shrunk again. Her eyes settled on each one as she thought of what had happened, what each had faced in the night. The terrors that each one would face in the coming days, months and even years from now.

But it wasn't just the last few hours. It was the war. It had once again torn her family apart. She had lost her brothers in the first half. Fabian and Gideon had fought as part of the Order, many times alongside James and Sirius; and her son's had done the same.

And just as before, she could not blame any of them.

Her eyes landed on her eldest, Bill with Fleur standing side by side. In the beginning she was furious. She could understand Bill's need to help fight. They all could. But it was Fleur who she had been angry with. The precious child that she carried was too important to lose. Now, she saw them together and understood, and couldn't fault her. As she cut her eyes to Remus and Tonks she understood.

Charlie should have been out of the country, he should have been safe from this. Or so she thought. That gashes and burns came with his chosen profession, she had gotten used to seeing him since he arrived for the wedding… before the war broke out again. He stood tall as she watched him help the healers with the smaller injuries. And she knew that it wouldn't be long before the excitement of now, the fear of losing his family; all would be gone and wanderlust would take him again.

Percy was a surprise. Through all this she had thought she had lost him. She never feared that he had joined Lord Vol… You-Know-Who; no she was sure he was too stringent for that. But she had lost him to his ideals. His notions of right and wrong had no give way for anything else. Yet here he stood holding his brother up as they looked upon the one they lost. As she looked at him she vowed that she would support him, even if she never agreed with his choice she would not let him think he was alone.

It was here as she turned to her next child and her heart hurt the most. While they had all lost Fred, her son had lost the other half of his whole. She had allowed them to think their whole life that she couldn't tell them apart. She loved the jokes and pranks they attempted as small children to try and confuse the family as to which twin was which. Even as they grew she secretly loved that she could tell them apart when almost everyone else couldn't. She was the one who changed their nappies and fed them as babes, there was no way that she wouldn't be able to tell them apart.

Now though, she knew what she had to do. Her son would need to heal, and see himself as more than just half of a whole. And she knew, she knew that she would have to show him that she knew who he was. Not Gred or Forge, But George. The one who would think of ways to scam more pudding when Fred wouldn't give his up. George who had been the first to get dragon pox as a child and then painted dots all over his body when Fred caught them two months later so he could play with his brother. He was George, who had figured out the Canary Creams problem when Fred wanted to scrap the idea at first. She would show him… when he was ready that George Weasley was just as strong, courageous, funny and loved on his own as he was as a twin.

The rush of footsteps had her turning, her hand going to her pocket where her wand had been tucked away. Her youngest son ran into the hall from where she could not say. Her heart lurched in both relief and pain as she watched him. She so desperately wanted to hold him, but it was George that reached for him first. She watched as George clung to him as shock took over Ron's face. She watched as Ron looked from one person to another until his eyes landed on Fred laid out on the stretcher… unmoving.

And she watched as he realized that he had lost one of his older brothers.

With a critical eye that only a mother could have, she took in each scratch, bruise, rip and burn that covered his body. While all of her children, her and her husband had been part of the battle; here she saw just where her youngest son had been. The very heart of everything. She had expected it. From the day when he, Harry and Hermione had left the wedding to now, she knew he wouldn't have been anywhere but by their sides.

She knew something had happened when Bill came forward with information about the three of them. She knew something had happened before then, but also knew she would never ask of it. The war brought so much pain and took so much that it was the darkest of times for anyone. But she also knew the heart of her youngest son. Whatever had happened, he had faced it and grown.

As he slowly let go of his brother, he made his way towards the one lost. Slowly he knelt down, his head dropping against Fred's chest. Tears rolled down his face as he mumbled softly. She couldn't hear the words, but could only guess what he was saying, what he was thinking.

She turned towards the doors of the hall and saw her daughter held by someone she had not thought would be there. For as long as Ginny had been able to dream of a future beyond unicorns and quidditch she had dreamed of Harry Potter. But it wasn't Harry Potter holding her daughter now. It was clear that without even talking to the man holding her only daughter, that this would one day be the man her husband walked their daughter down an aisle to. Instead she saw a tall dark skin boy who looked down at her daughter as if she was the only woman in the world.

She noted that there was another there, she had no clue who it was as she watched them. As they sprung apart she felt a soft smile as their moment played out before them. As the man stepped forward to protect her child from whoever it was that had scared them. As Ginny ran towards the unknown member of the trio and pain etched only for a moment in the young man's face. Minutes later she saw Harry softly push Ginny back towards the man, where a few words were spoken before Harry disappeared from view while her daughter and her beau walked arm in arm towards them. As she now realized Dean held her daughter up as she fell apart with the knowledge that she had lost her brother.

In the silence of it all she clung to her husband who had wrapped his arms around her, grounded her throughout their lives and held her when she hadn't even known she needed it. She had lost, they all had. But those who survived would live on, would continue, and would remember.

It was then that she heard it, that unmistakable laugh that would never really be the same.

"Gred! " George shouted as he ran. "Gred, where did you go?"

As one they moved faster than they should have. Injuries should have slowed them down, grief should have stopped their movements. But it hadn't and they didn't. As they reached the entrance hall she spotted Harry as he softly spoke. Though it was clear he was speaking to George, she understood.

"He'll be here when you're ready." she smiled softly before pulling her son towards her.

She didn't dare hope, she didn't dare even voice it as she saw the wisp of a face that matched the one she now cradled against her shoulder before it too turned away. She knew that as a ghost he would never join the rest of his family in the here-after, but he would be here for all the future generations of Weasley's.

She would make sure that he would never be forgotten or alone.