For Barbara

The whole castle seemed to shift under his feet, like a rug out of which some giant was trying to shake the wrinkles. Fred felt himself tumbling through the air as though in slow motion, the outer wall of the castle shearing and then crumbling and, as he fell, he saw the dot of green light. Not a line as he would have seen from any other angle, but the single point that meant it was heading directly at him, and in freefall there was nothing he could do to avoid it.

---

When he was next aware of anything, it was that tingling of the hairs at the nape of his neck that told him he was being watched. Then he noticed the stillness. Gingerly, he opened his eyes. A young man, no more than half a dozen years older than Fred himself was bending over him.

"About time," he said, standing upright and shouting over his shoulder to someone else, his shoulder-length ginger hair catching the light.

"Who in the name of Merlin are you?" Fred asked and then, taking in his stark, white, seemingly boundless surroundings, he added, "And where is this?"

"This," answered his white-clad companion, "is the waiting room, and I am your guide. Fabian Prewett at your service."

"And him?" Fred asked, levering himself into a sitting position and nodding in the general direction of a slightly shorter but otherwise nearly identical man, who seemed to be peering into a white basin atop a white pedestal which was the only furniture in the... Could somewhere without walls still be a room? "Is he my guide, too?"

"Nah," Fabian replied, smoothing down the lapels of his velvet blazer. "He just didn't want to be left out."

Fred rolled his eyes. "So this is where I have to choose whether I want to go into the light or whether I should hang around and haunt George for the rest of his life?"

"Normally, yeah," Fabian replied. "Only I wouldn't recommend the haunting thing. It's alright up until the person you're connected to dies. Then, by all accounts, it all gets a bit pointless."

"Heyyyy!" Fred grinned, suddenly realising something. "I died at Hogwarts. That means I could haunt there. I could pass on the secrets of my misspent youth to generation after generation of Gryffindors... if they prove themselves worthy, that is."

"I think you'll find the position of resident troublemaker is already filled. Goes by the name of Peeves," Fabian retorted. "Besides, this is not a normal situation. You might not have to make—"

"Merlin's shrivelled balls!" shouted Fred's Uncle Gideon. "He's only bloody gone and done it."

"Fingers crossed, boy," said Fabian. "Sounds like you might get that second chance yet."

"What? Who's done what?" Fred asked.

"Your mate, Potter." Gideon grinned. "He's only just been hit by the Killing Curse and made it out the other side again."

"You what?" Fred asked, stunned again. "Wasn't that meant to be a one-shot deal? Ron said they reckoned after Voldemort took his blood that that wouldn't work again."

"That wouldn't. Here, come and see for yourself."

Fred made his way over to what he now realised was a scrying basin. Hagrid was carrying Harry's limp body from the Forbidden Forest onto the grounds of Hogwarts. "He doesn't look very lively to me," Fred announced.

"Yeah, but he nearly gave himself away when Hagrid gave those centaurs an earful," Gideon argued.

Fred watched in fascination as the battle played out before him, cheering on Neville as he made his heroic stand and cheering even louder when he used Gryffindor's sword to behead Nagini. He lost Harry in the fight but finally he learned to watch for the flashes of red that seemed to come from nowhere. The fiercest fighting shifted to the Great Hall, and Fred dug nail-shaped grooves into the palms of his hands as he watched his sister and her friends come together to battle Bellatrix Lestrange. "No, Ginny," he whispered under his breath. "It'll kill Mum if she loses you as well."

As if summoned by his words, his mother swept into the fray. He'd always known that he'd rather face half a dozen Death Eaters than his mother on a rampage, but he'd thought that was because she was his mother. He'd thought she was all bluster and fiery temper, but Fred had never grasped until that moment that his mother was actually dangerous.

"You show her, sis!" yelled one of her brothers, Fred was no longer quite sure which.

"We taught her everything she knows about duelling," confided the other brother. "Couldn't keep a Defence teacher even back in our day, so we taught ourselves... and then we made damn sure we taught her. That bitch hasn't got a clue what she's done getting our Molly riled up like a mother bear."

"Circe's tits," swore Fred, as he realised his mother's victory had drawn Voldemort's attention.

The heat-haze shimmer of a shield appeared between the Dark Lord and Fred's mother, but a shield wouldn't stop a Killing Curse and Fred didn't release a breath until Harry took off his cloak and distracted Voldemort.

The two of them walked a perfect circle as they threw taunts instead of curses. Walked and walked and walked, and now it seemed that Harry was doing most of the talking until, at some trigger Fred could not hear, spell met spell in a golden ball of flame at the circle's centre. Voldemort's wand flew across the circle and Harry grabbed it from the air, Voldemort falling to the ground and lying motionless.

Fred gave a rueful grin and then sighed. He turned away from the basin and held out his arms from his sides in an invitation to his two uncles. "Okay, the party's over. The good guys won. Thanks for letting me hang around to see how it all worked out."

"That's not what you were here for," Fabian told him.

"So what are we here for?" Fred asked.

"Because there's still hope," Gideon replied, wrapping an arm around his nephew's shoulders and guiding him back toward the basin.

Fabian joined him on the other side, so that Fred was caught between them and manoeuvred back to the basin. "If your mate is smart enough."

Fred stared into the water in the basin. Green eyes looked back at him. "Harry? I'm bloody doomed!"

---

Fred couldn't bear to watch as Harry feigned interest in the food in front of him, alternately glad-handing and commiserating with everyone who could get close to him. It went on for hours or so it seemed to Fred, and he hadn't caught so much as a glimpse of his twin. Pain stabbed in Fred's chest as he thought about taking part in "The Next Great Adventure" without George at his side, and he knew that his brother would find it equally hard, but Harry's lack of urgency made it seem unlikely that his wait would be any more than a short delay on his way to the afterlife.

He finally escaped his uncles, his attempt at pacing turning into something more like a hike when no walls appeared to cause him to turn, but finally the lure of the basin drew him back.

"Has he stopped stuffing his face and kissing babies, yet?" Fred asked.

Gideon grinned. He tilted his head and looked back over his shoulder at his sister's boy. "He sneaked out with your little brother and the brains of the operation. If you're a praying man, I'd do it now."

---

Fred watched as the trio made their way to the headmaster's study.

The joy in Gideon's eyes seemed to fade as he watched Harry speak.

"What is it?" Fred asked.

Gideon shrugged. "I've picked up a bit of lip-reading over the years. He lost the ring in the forest."

Fred gave an impatient sigh. "What ring? Will you ever tell me what is going on?"

"Your friend collected all three items known as the Deathly Hallows," said Fabian.

"Even though he didn't physically possess the Elder Wand," filled in Gideon.

"It recognised him as its master." Fabian gave a rueful smile.

"That is how he came back from the dead," Gideon explained.

"Wait!" said Fred. "He didn't survive like the last time? He actually died?"

"He became the Master of Death," said Fabian.

"What he doesn't seem to have realised is that with those items, he could bring back quite a few of those who died today," added Gideon.

"Not those who succumbed to their wounds," Fabian explained, "but those like you whose bodies were unmarked."

Hope flared in Fred's eyes for a second, and then he thought about what his uncles were saying. "There must be two dozen people who got hit with an A.K."

"About that," Fabian agreed.

"Harry couldn't bring them all back," Fred sighed.

"Not now," said Gideon. "It seems he has lost one of the items and he doesn't intend to look for it."

"Not ever..." said Fred. "It's too many, too much power and the other alternative is that he tries to pick and choose."

"I thought you wanted to go back?" asked Fabian.

"Not that way," Fred insisted. "Not knowing that I'm there because Harry chose me over somebody else. Not knowing that Harry would never be left alone, that every grieving mother or brother would be begging him to help and cursing him if he didn't.

If he never tries, then everyone will accept it. It's the natural order." He swallowed. "Everyone will mourn, but they'll know that it was for a reason and that'll help, and eventually they'll move on... but, if he brought me back, how'd he ever look Remus's kid in the eye if he didn't bring them back? And Colin Creevey, and the next one, and the next one, and the one after that. He'd kill himself trying, and Ginny would make my life a living hell. I can't do that."

"Even if it means leaving George behind?" Gideon asked.

"I can still haunt him if I want to," Fred reminded the others.

"You could..." Fabian and Gideon shared a look and a brighter patch began to form in the unremitting white, like a gradually brightening spotlight.

"Of course, if you were to tell me what exactly the other choice involves?" Fred hinted.

"Well, there are tests," said Fabian.

"And if you fail, they put you in with the Slytherins," added Gideon.

Fred's eyes widened in shock, until he saw the smirks on the two older men's faces.

The light now was almost blinding. It was too bright for Fred to be able to see what he would be walking into.

Molly's brothers turned toward the light, each one holding out a hand to their nephew. "Coming?" they asked.

'I guess it's time for the next great adventure,' Fred thought. Ignoring their outstretched hands, he draped an arm around each of his uncles' necks, stepping with them into the light. "At least tell me you have Quidditch?" he demanded.