A/N: This fic was inspired by the following little letter:

Dear Molly,

Taking care of Fred like you have been taking care of Harry all these years.

Love,

Lily

Sadness. On that note,

Enjoy.

People always view death as infinite, unstoppable. They think that once someone is gone, they are alone and unreachable. But it is a fact that the one thing that can shine through the gloom is love.

A mother's love.

Avada Kedavra!

Lily's eyes shut, and she descended into blackness. A pain shot through her- so deep that it could have cleaved her in two- that faded into nothing. She was a little girl again, half asleep, listening to the sounds of life around her but never taking part. She did not hear anything, but was aware of movement around her. Snatches of familiar voices, the scent of her childhood home. All these bits and more floated around her, but the only thing she was certain of was the feeling of James nestled against her side. When she heard a laugh- so like a dog's bark, just as it had been in life- she almost awoke. James, beside her, felt another person cuddle in beside them before he sank back into oblivion. Then, the feeling of threadbare robes and the smell of full moon nights appeared, warm against Lily's exposed shoulder.

After that, something changed.

No! FRED!

The heartbreaking sound of a mother deprived of her son.

Deprived of her son.

Harry.

With a jolt, Lily sat up, clawing her way out of the black and into the white fog. Across the mist, she saw a young boy- her young boy- held by a motherly ginger woman. Flashes and snippets followed. Summer vacations. Birthday cakes. Hand-knitted jumpers. Lily watched her son grow, not sure if these images were in front of her or in her head, and not caring. She saw her brave son face the troubles of a much older man, always knowing that he was safe with that woman and her family. Lily saw a fiery girl, a gangly boy, twins, older brothers. A whole family willing to die for her little baby. With sudden clarity, she saw that now, one of them had.

Fred.

A new terror swept through her, fear for the mother below her, the mother that had raised Lily's son. Scrambling forward, she reached for the prone boy on the ground. Suddenly, all the colors and noises and smells were far too bright, the new imagery beckoning her. However, Lily remained focused on Molly's boy. Laying a hand on his cold shoulder, she whispered to him.

"Fred… It's time to go. Sweetheart, wake up."

His outline blurred, and he sat up, leaving an imprint of himself lying down. The blood and dirt melted from his face and stayed with his empty body. The rest of the world faded slightly, leaving only Lily and Fred in full color.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice as innocent as a little boy's. All around him drifted the sound of laughter, on his fingers were smears of ash.

"My name is Lily." Fred's brown eyes grew wider as he inspected her green ones.

"Harry's mum?"

"Yes."

"But aren't you-"

"Yes."

"Then I'm-"

"Yes." He grew pale at this, and Lily was immediately guilty for her almost-sharp tone. It had been too long since she had spoken to anyone, let alone a young man.

"It's all right. You were brave," she said soothingly, feeling tears prick at the back of her eyes. Fred looked around, seeing his family for the first time.

"They're so sad," he said, reaching out for George. He could not touch his little brother, however much he tried.

"They can't hear you," Lily told him regretfully. Fred turned his eyes back to Lily. He murmured something incomprehensible. "What was that?"

"I'm scared," he confessed. Lily reached for him, wrapping her arms around his lithe frame. She could smell fireworks in his flaming hair.

"So was I," she told him quietly. Unbeknownst to Fred, little teardrops were soaking through his blue jumper. Leaning back and brushing them away, she looked at him quizzically.

"Why does your jumper have a 'G' on it?" she asked curiously.

"Oh. It's George's. He's my twin. We'd switched just because our mum seemed to think that we'd get ourselves confused if we weren't clearly labeled," Fred answered with a melancholy laugh. Lily chuckled as well, the anecdote reminding her of all the Marauder's escapades.

"Fred? Do you believe in fate?" Lily posed another question. The ginger looked startled.

"I s'pose… It's difficult to explain why, though," he answered slowly. "I'm beginning to wonder. All those times that I could have gotten into trouble, or killed, and it only happens now. Is there a reason?"

"I wish I had an answer for you," Lily answered. Fred's thoughtful look was interrupted by a gigantic yawn.

"I'm tired, Mrs. Potter," he said quietly. "Very tired."

"It's only natural. You have learned all you wanted to know. Now, there is nothing to do but sleep." Lily's voice grew low and calming.

"Can I sleep, then?" Fred sounded much younger than his nineteen years.

"Of course, darling."

The two redheads sank down into the fog, back where James, Sirius, and Remus were waiting. As they settled in, Lily thought once more to the grieving mother down below.

Don't worry, Molly. Your son is safe with me, until you are ready to come see him. I will take care of Fred, because you take care of Harry.

Down below, a mother's tears stopped for the first time in hours, as she slipped into her dreams.

Two boys slept, one dark-haired, one ginger. Both boys safe in the presence of a mother's love.

A/N: So… what did you think? I would really appreciate feedback; I've never done anything like this before.

Some clarifications: I see this beginning with Lily's death, and then the deaths of Sirius and Remus. When Lily sort of comes back to Earth for Fred, she has the opportunity to explore as a ghost rather than take care of him. I just had this thought, what if Lily took care of Fred because Molly took care of Harry? And so came about this fic.

I feel like this story is a little plot-less, but I'm not sure how to fix it...

Feel free to respond with questions, comments, concerns, and most importantly, constructive crit.