Harry Potter Visit From An Old Friend

**Hey Everyone! Sorry it's been forever since I posted/updated a story. I haven't had any motivation to write anything in a while, but this struck me as I was lying in bed and I decided to let my creative juices flow. And sorry for the title name; I couldn't come up with a good one.**

**Without further ado, let us start this one-shot.  
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Ten years. Ten years since her one of her sons died. The vibrancy in her world dimmed. Nothing was the same without him, without Fred. The light in George's eyes dimmed and his laughter, which used to fill her home along with his twin's, were rare (she couldn't remember the last time she heard it).

She heard that the grief would fade as life moved on—everyone kept telling her that. Harry helped Ginny when they married; even before that. That boy (and he was still a boy to her, no matter that he was 27) has brought so much light and joy into her and her family's life, and she was grateful for his help when they were grieving. She remembered one night, just days after the last battle, when she was looking at the family clock, her tears running down her face as she saw the Fred's arrow point to _Deceased_. She wanted to scream at it, to demand that it move to _Home_, but she knew that it wouldn't. She knew that her anger was illogical and that nothing would change, but the grief she felt was so palpable, so all-consuming that she couldn't stand it. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice another presence in the room until she felt a hand on her back. She jumped a bit and turned her head to see who it was. It was Harry, little Harry who was all grown up and would become a wonderful man—_no, _she corrected, _he is a wonderful man_.

"H-Harry? What are you doing up so late?" She asked, trying to stop her crying. She couldn't let herself fall apart in front of him. She was older than him; she had to show that she was still strong and dependable.

"I couldn't sleep." He said, warm eyes on her.

"I see. I'll go make you some warm milk and honey to help." She told him, heading for the kitchen. Best to keep busy. "I used to make the children this all the time when they were younger. F-Fred and George would always beg me to make them it every night." Her voice wavered slightly at her late son's name, but the memory made her smile.

"Mrs. Weasley…" Harry said. "It's alright, you know?"  
"What are you talking about?" she said, playing oblivious.

"I won't try to understand what you're going through because I can't, but I miss him, too."

Mrs. Weasley stayed silent. She couldn't speak. There was something in her throat, something heavy and constraining.

"We all miss him," He continued, "but you're his mother. No one would grieve for him more than you, and I'm sorry I couldn't save him." His voice trembled.

She looked at him then, comprehension dawning on her. He was blaming himself for her son's death. He blamed himself for the grief she and her family was feeling.

"Now listen here, young man," she started, "None of this was your fault. Not one bit of it. Everyone knew what the dangers were when they decided to join in the war; they decided to let their fate rest in the hands of this terrible war. No one blames you for the deaths of others and I certainly do not blame you for Fred's. He was a brilliant man and he wouldn't want you to blame yourself. He would probably pull a prank on you and tell you to cheer up and live. To move on with your life and remember the happy times you shared with him." Her voice was strong and resolute as she directed her words to him.

Wide green eyes stared at her before the softened and he smiled at her. That's when she realized that he had planned this. Then the dam broke and she collapsed, but Harry caught her. Her sobs were loud, her body shuddering with every gasp. Before she knew it, her whole family was around her, hugging her, crying with her. That was the first step she took to accepting her son's death.

Now, ten years, later, she accepted his death and moved on, but there was a hole in her heart where he used to be, right next to George, and she couldn't fill it. Especially today, the day that he died.  
Molly stared at the picture in her hands. It was a picture of the whole family a few days before the final battle. Even in the darkest of times, Fred and George were smiling so vibrantly that she could feel herself smile.

"I miss you, Fred. So much." Tears filled her eyes and she let them run down her face softly. She couldn't believe that she spent ten years without her son. What would he be like if he survived? Who would he have married? How many kids would he have? Would the house survive his and George's kids? These thoughts and more ran through her mind. She would never find out, and the grief that she had felt so long ago came crashing back, like it did every year on this day.

However, unlike those days, something happened. Something extraordinary.

"Molly." A voice called to her. "Molly, look up."

Slowly, Molly looked up, unregistering the voice. However, her eyes widened when she saw who was standing in front of her. Vibrant read hair fell down around her face while smiling green eyes looked at her.

"L-Lily?" Molly breathed out. Impossible, Lily was dead, but she was standing right in front of her.

"Hi Molly." Lily said.  
"How are you here? You're dead!" Molly said, hands over her mouth.

"Yes I am." The younger woman said, smiling. "But I wanted to tell you something."

"What is it?" Mrs. Weasley asked, eyes still wide.

"I wanted to thank you for taking care of Harry while I can't and for caring for him still." Lily said, eyes sad.

"Of course!" Molly replied without a thought. "He's like family to me now and you're my dear friend. Besides" she smiled "you would have done the same for me."

Lily looked taken aback slightly, but then she smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling. "Funny you should say that."

"What?" Molly asked, confused.

"Well, ten years ago today, a young man appeared in front of me. He had hair as red as yours and freckles dotted his face. He was confused but he knew he had passed." Lily said. Molly's eyes widened. It couldn't be.

Seeing the look in her eyes, Lily smiled, inclining her head a bit. "This young man, as I'm sure you have guessed, was Fred. And like you said, I have been caring for him in your place, until you see him again, years from now."

Again, tears filled her eyes, but these tears were different. They weren't sad; they were tears of happiness.

"Thank you. Thank you so much Lily." She cried. Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision.

"I'll be watching over Fred like you have been for Harry. I will get him to be a proper man by the time you see him again so don't you worry." Lily stated, still smiling.  
"You can try." Mrs. Weasley gave a watery laugh.

Suddenly, the room started to dim and she felt a tugging. Startled, and a little bit scared, she turned to her friend.

"What's happening? Lily?"

Said woman gave her a sad smile. "It's time for you to wake up."

"What? Wake up? What are you talking about? I've been awake this whole time!"

Lily shook her head, and when she spoke, her words echoed. "I hope to see you again Molly, many years from now."

Molly shook her head, she didn't know what to do or say. She looked at Lily then—

She woke up. Looking around her, she saw nothing. No Lily. So she was dreaming. Standing up, she charmed the picture back on the wall and walked to the window, staring out. Even though that was a dream, she had a feeling that Lily really spoke to her. And it was with a smile that Molly Weasley, mother of seven and wife of one, bustled about the kitchen, cooking a banquet in honor of her deceased son and her other son's mother.

In the corner, hidden from the cooking woman, stood Lily Potter, late mother of Harry Potter. She smiled at the Weasley matriarch and turned to face the man standing next to her.  
"Are you sure you didn't want to speak with her?" She asked.

Fred Weasley looked back at her. "Nah, I didn't want to interrupt you two. And besides," He turned to look at his mum, "I'll see her again."

Lily smiled. "Yes you will."

And it was with those last few words that the two faded away, watching Molly move around the kitchen, smiling.

The End.

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**I'm sorry if I didn't do well on the story. I tried my best though. I hope that you liked reading this as much as I loved writing it. **

**Please leave reviews on your thoughts and on anything I could improve on, your likes or dislikes, and on anything else. ^_^**


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Harry Potter, Hurt-Comfort