Title: Biggest Present, Smallest Package
Pairing:
Rating: T
Note: Not sure if this will get the best vote for Christmas Spirit, lol, but this is what my mind came up with. Sorry about the angst. I really hope this is liked. I bloody cried when I wrote this!!! Well at parts. I hope you can see why!!! Oh!! Please please take the time to read this, if you don't mind the warning below. points

DEATHLY HOLLOW SPOILERS! ONLY READ IF YOU ALREADY KNOW WHAT HAPPENED, OR YOU DO NOT MIND BEING SPOILED.

How do the people effected by the final battle handle their first Christmas without their loved ones?

This will be the first . . .

I-I can’t even finish the words . . . but I have to say it. I can’t hold back my feelings anymore; I have to let them out, or I’ll go crazy. This will be the first Christmas without him. Without my best friend, my brother and as wrong as some may look upon it, my love. Of course he didn’t know the abnormal feelings I held in my heart for him. Nobody did. Though, the ghoul upstairs . . . he knew, but like he can tell anyone; nothing comes out of his mouth (if you can even call that thing a mouth) save for moaning and groaning.

So yes, this will be the first major holiday without my sweet baby brother. I don’t know if I can hold up. I don’t know what to do, or who to turn to. Everyone else is in their own form of sadness. Everyone lost someone; my whole family lost . . . lost him . . . but I can’t help but feel . . . . I can’t help but feel that it’s worse for me. And not only because I loved him in a different way, but because he . . . he was my other half. We did everything together; we laughed, joked, played and goofed off together. If one was up to mischief, the other would quickly follow. The other most times being me. He was the one who always came up with the great schemes and I always went along with them, no problem.

This . . . I have to stop thinking about him . . . maybe turn off the thing that makes me feel sadness . . . though, can you turn off any such emotion? I don’t think so; not even with magic . . .

Okay, I’m sure there is some magic that can turn off your emotions (in fact I know there are) but that would surely be a dark art type of thing . . .

No, I can’t turn off my emotions; he wouldn’t be happy if I did that . . .

You don’t see others doing that; everyone is openly expressing how they feel. You can’t stop them. Make eye contact with one person who was effected by everything and I can assure you, both will start to tear up, feeling the other’s heartache, because they know how it is. The wizarding world has become even more close-knit, now banning together to help each other heal instead of trying to get rid of a dark lord.

No, The Dark Lord is gone. There is no doubt about that. Neville killed the last Horcrux, the great snake, Nagini, so Harry was finally able to defeat He Who Is Now Dead.

I still don’t know how Harry supposedly died and came back, because it’s not a secret now among the wizards that Harry was indeed a Horcrux (those that know of the Horcruxes of course)
himself, so he had to of died for Lord Voldemort to die.

The only reason I even know all this is because of Ron, my brave, brave little brother. We teased him horribly, my other half and I, and Ron, he outdid us all in the end, that is all of the Weasley’s, though I must hand it to my mother and baby sister, not to mention Percy. They all surprised me tremendously.

Oh God . . . Why am I thinking about this again!? I thought I was going to try and put it in the past and forget . . .

“Georgey, do you honestly think you can forget . . . ?”

The voice was almost so real that I jumped and spun around, crying out to the empty room. But of course Fred was not there; it had only been my foolish mind playing tricks on my already devastated self.

Fred was gone. No doubt about that as well. We tried . . . We really, really did . . . God, I tried to get there in time and stop it . . . Everything went in slow motion and there was nothing I or Percy,
or anyone else could do. Fred dropped soundlessly to the floor, while I and Percy . . . We . . . We . . . . continued to fight on, trying to make it so his death wouldn’t be for nothing. He died and we
damn for sure was not going to let that death go to waste.

Everyone fought their best, even people I would never imagine have the guts to stand up to the dark wizards like that. Neville for one (boy he grew up) and little Colin Creevy . . . Dobby, yeah, even Dobby fought . . . the free house elf who was bound to no wizard, yet he fought for his love of Harry, Ron and Hermione.

“Cheer . . . up,” the shattered voice broke into my memories, making me look up, my dull green eyes showing little sign of awareness. I had to blink my eyes a few times to come back to reality and notice the frail and skinny form of my sister standing in front of me. Her hands were slightly shaking and her skin was much paler then any red head’s skin should be. You’d almost think she was albino.

Ginny wrung her hands, making a small frown tug at the corner of my lips. Fred was gone, but I can’t forget I still have people; I can’t forget about them. Fred would kick me in the shins if I did that; seriously, he’d find a way to come back, just to give me a good kick. The thought almost made the frown turn into a smile, but the sight of my sister in such distress would not let that smile form.

“Hullo Ginny,” I gave a small wave with my left hand, leaning toward the smaller girl slightly, my head turned so my good (only!) ear could hear her.

“Mum and I are going to go Christmas shopping, a-and I was wondering what you wanted.”

Yes, you might notice I am back at home; everyone is. Since the final battle everyone has moved back home, even Percy, Bill and Charlie. Of course that means Fleur is around too; she is family now; the baby is almost due. Bill and Fleur are a fit of nerves, not sure if the baby will have his father’s werewolf genes or not. It wasn’t often werewolves bared children. Bill has nearly healed from his werewolf attack, though the scars will always remain; Fleur stuck to her words and proved that she really did love him for more then his looks. I must admit I was surprise; mum was too.

Dad has managed to redecorate the house, rearranging things, making enough room for everyone; of course he had the help of magic. Mum let him do what he wanted; if it would mean everyone
could fit into our house comfortably, then so be it.

“There isn’t really anything I would need, Ginny,” I told the girl. There was nothing I wanted, save for my baby brother back; my twin, my love.

“Oh,” Ginny lowered her head, “I see . . . you’ll have to be surprised then . . .”

I reached out and patted her on the shoulder, “yeah, you surprise me. Tell mum to get Ron something really nice, eh?”

“Of course,” Ginny said, giving me a wavering smile. I wish I could see a real smile. People might think it wrong to smile after such a time, but not seeing my family’s smiles . . . it’s sad.

“Make sure to get Harry something nice too while you’re at it.”

“Mm,” Ginny nodded. I could tell she was still thought of Harry as more then a friend, even when Harry had months ago set her down and spilled all his thoughts out to her. He loved her; he really did love her then . . . but his feelings had slowly started to change over the months.

Nobody blamed him. Everyone was so shook up over the final battle, their feelings going haywire. Ginny and Harry are not the only couple to have a falling out; Ron and Hermione who had rushed to be together quickly found though they did have feelings for each other, it was too . . .strange for them to be romantic.

I’m all knowing . . . so of course I know everything that is going on . . . truth is I hear more now then I ever did, one ear or not. People come to me out of the blue and just start to talk about everything under the moon. People I was never friends with (friends of Ron, Harry and Hermione’s for one) come to me and seem to want to talk about everything.

This is how I know Luna has a girlfriend (who, I have no idea) and Neville once kissed Seamus on a dare. How I know about Trevor the third’s very sad passing and about the birth of Fang’s puppies (Hagrid was so pleased). How I know about Cho’s fight for ghosts rights to have the ability to haunt anywhere they want. Wizard magic to kept them in the place they have the most tie to is just not right in Cho’s opinion. I know what sparked that reasoning; everyone does. She’s thinking about what if Cedric had came back as a ghost.

“George, what are you thinking about?” Ginny’s voice again broke into my memories, making me jump.

“Blimey . . . nothing . . . well about stuff; my mind wonders a lot. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about; we all do that, ya know?” She smiled again and I saw a glimpse of the Ginny I used to know. That made me feel a lot better. Better then anyone would imagine.

Ginny turned around and with one final glance at me, she left the room. I sighed, running a hand through my long, shoulder length hair. I had been growing it out ever since the final battle. In honor of Fred; he loved when my hair was long.

"Harry, dear, try not to . . . "

Mum is making Harry, Ron and Hermione help in the kitchen, and without the use of magic. She said, "we're going to have a home cooked meal the old-fashioned way if it kills us . . . "

Honestly, the way they cook, it very well may kill the whole house. Mum's a good cook, but that's with magic . . .

Without her magic, then . . . well, people nearby better watch out.

They didn't bother asking me to help, though I very well could have (I can cook, believe it or not), because they all feel I'm so stuck in the past and thinking about him. Well, I am, but I'm trying to move on. It's the hardest thing, but it seems everyone else is managing.

Been a whole day and nobody has once got teary-eyed. And they're talking and laughing. It's almost like it was before the final battle. That's good. We need to move on, or risk making our selves sick.

"George, help, please!" Suddenly Hermione is calling out to me and it's not hard to see the problem. She's picked up a pot she misjudged the weight of and is about to fall under the weight. I'm closet to her (sitting at the kitchen table). Mom had just left the kitchen to get something out of the garden, and Ron and Harry are standing over the sizzling stove, still unaware of Hermione's little problem.

I reacted fast, jumping up from where I was, rushing to her side. Taking one side of the pot (Filled with . . . I can only say grub -gross-) and help Hermione sit it on the counter.

"What is that?" I asked Hermione, giving the contents in the pot a nervous look. We're supposed to be eating that?

"I'm not sure . . . It was supposed to be soup . . . " Hermione gave the contents a stir, her face almost the same shade of green as the grub.

"Christmas colored soup . . . " You know because of the green color . . . I'm just so amusing . . .

Hermione blushed, "of course not . . . I think I mixed the wrong seasoning in it or something . . . Oh dear, you'd think I'd know how to do this . . . this is my element . . . I'm muggle born for goodness sake!"

After a forced laugh (I was trying to make her feel better, but I just don't feel very cheery) I helped Hermione dump the gunk and then helped her step by step make the correct type of soup, non Christmas color.

"Thank you George!" Hermione gushed.

"Sure . . . "

Everyone is gathered in the burrow. Fleur is so large it's almost a comical sight. But she's so proud, even fat dare not make her look her best. In fact she looks bloody fantastic. She's glowing. The type of glow only a mother to be can get. How do I know this, well, I have seen the birth of two siblings.

Speaking of them, Ginny and Ron are sitting across from each other bickering, who knows about what. With them it could be anything. Mum keep sending them death glares, her face becoming more distraught. I can't help but notice how she keeps glancing at me, as if their bickering would upset me for obvious reasons. People move on; they bicker again, love again. I know that and I won't stop anyone from expressing their selves, even if that means letting Ginny and Ron duke it out childishly with their words.

But out of everyone, Fleur is the one looking about to pop a vein. She's not one for unpleasant things and bickering is very unpleasant.

"Please to lower 'uur voices, 'enny, Ron," Fleur finally scolded them, beating mum to it. Mum bristled for a moment, not used to having someone else do her 'mum' job, but she eventually relaxed. Fleur's mom vibe was already starting to blossom. And no wonder, she was due like in two days!

"Blimey," Ron muttered, flushing brightly. I can guess what is going through his mind. "Did I just get scolded from a girl I once had a crush on?"

From across the room Hermione hid a grin. I shared her grin, meeting her eyes. She blinked, then smiled brighter, moving her arm away from her face.

Mum stood up and the next thing I knew my face was buried against her breasts. She was squeezing me unbelievingly tight. I could barely breath.

"Bloody hell, mum, what's wrong?" Bill exclaimed, startled. Charlie got up and went to approach us. I can barely see this as I said, my face is smashed against mum's breasts. Percy grabbed Charlie's arm and stopped him, shaking his head.

Okay? What sense does that make?

"Language Bill," Fleur scolded, her hand resting on her round stomach. "Mum, are you feeling okay?" Fleur asked, putting a hand on her mother-in-law's shoulder.

"Bloody brilliant," Mum said, pulling back from me slightly. Her eyes were misting and she soon had tears falling down her cheeks. I blinked, wiping the tears away.

"What is it, mum?" I asked quietly.

"A moment ago . . . " Mum started, hiccuping as she continued to cry.

"A moment ago?" I questioned.

"You smiled," Mum said simply, giving a shrug. "And I don't know . . . I saw my baby boy again. George . . . " Molly started to cry harder then . . .

"For the longest time I feared . . . "

"What?"

Charlie, Bill, Ron and Percy were now surrounding us, Ginny too. Harry, Hermione and Fleur were standing off to the side a little, as if not to intrude on a family moment, though they were so much family too.

"I thought I was losing you, too!" Mum fell against my chest. My chest which was heaving in and out in silent sobs. I heard someone choke behind me and recognized it as Harry. I glanced behind me, seeing not only was Harry crying, but Hermione and Fleur were crying, both hugging Harry.

Ginny was clinging to Bill's middle, silently crying as well. Percy was gently rubbing her hair. His eyes were far from dry.

Dad who had been quite for quite a while was pulling out a large handkerchief, loudly blowing his nose.

And yes, Bill and Charlie were crying too.

Did everyone feel that way?

"Blimey mum, I'm not going anywhere," I sobbed.

Mum sniffed and dare I say it I think she wiped her nose on her blouse . . . she must be really shook to do a thing like that. That is so un-Mum-like.

"George, you stay with us for as long as you want, okay? You're not bound to us as Fred was never bound to us, in the sense that you can't ever leave the house . . . " Mum smiled. "Do you understand what I mean?"

"I'm a baby bird, but you're allowing me to leave the nest when I am ready . . . "

Mum nodded, "you're all baby birds . . . my babies . . . but you can leave when you're ready . . . " She looked at Bill and Fleur when she said this, knowing how they probably wanted to start a house with their baby when it was born.

“Oh! Mon . . . mon eau . . . cela s'est cassé!” Fleur shouted. (1)

Bill jerked out of our little family group hug and run to his wife, who was being supported by Hermione and Ron, her face bright red and her outfit soaked.

“Fleur, darling, what’s wrong?”

I think I should mention nobody here can speak French!

“Maintenant . . . maintenant . . . m'aident!” Fleur shouted, too frantic to remember to speak in English. (2)
“Darling, calm down . . . ”

“Her water broke, I figure as much,” I said panicking as well. “Oh my God, her water BROKE!”

“Yes, George, we realize,” Bill helped his wife stand, who was weeping, in hysterics.

“Bill, St. Mungos, s'il vous plaît!” Fleur dug her head against Bill’s stomach. (3)

“She wants to go see a muggle?”

“GEORGE, she said Mungos . . . ” Mum shouted, then she winced. “Sorry.” Not like it was her fault my hearing was bad!

Fleur beamed, “Oui, oui, s'il vous plaît, dépêcher . . . ” (4)

“Dear,” Mum waved her wand, drying Fleur up as best she could, though the water kept coming. The baby wanted out now! “Please, speak English, so we can best help you, okay?”

Fleur sighed, “Qui. I mean, yes, I’m sorry . . . Ah . . . Bill . . . ”

Mum smiled, “it’s okay, sweet girl. Let’s get you to Mungos . . . ”

“George, stop pacing. You’re acting like you’re the father or something,” Bill said, getting irritated by my constant pacing. I couldn’t help it. The thought of new life coming into our world after all our heartache was so scary. What if something went wrong? What if . . .

No, no what ifs!

“I’m sorry, Bill . . . ”

I set down next to Percy and Charlie. Percy patted me on the knee. “She’s fine. The baby too.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say Percy learned how to read minds.

“Thanks,” I muttered. “I know . . . ”

Fred is watching over them now and making sure of it . . . I know he’s watching . . .

I miss you Fred . . .

“C'est une fille!” Fleur’s mother came running into the room, shouting. “Belle fille de bébé!” (5)

I only registered one word and that was “Fille” which I somehow knew meant girl. Bill jumped up and ran to the French woman, everyone else following suit, dying to hear information and in English!

Mrs. Delacour finally calmed down. “Girl. Healthy. Come come,” she grabbed mum and Bill’s hands and started to pull them forward. “George too,” she said, “come. Fleur insists.”

“All, not just George. All siblings. Fleur insists . . . ” Mrs. Delacour corrected. “Big room, enough for everyone to fit.”

We walked into the room; my face went bright in wonderment, I raced to Fleur’s side almost faster then Bill did.

Bill didn’t seem to mind; this was a moment to share with the whole family!

“Fleur, she’s beautiful,” I whispered, looking at the sleeping baby. She had the Weasley hair!

“Bill what name did you pick?” I asked Bill.

Bill blinked, “Ah . . . ”

Fleur grinned, “I pick name.”

“She wouldn’t tell me, but begged she give full naming rights. She said she had her reasons and I agreed.” Bill leaned down, kissing Fleur’s forehead.

“And?” I whispered.

Fleur held the baby out, meaning for me to hold her. I did so, cradling her gently in my arms. Good God, she looks just like Fred and I as a baby . . .

“Is it okay, may I have permission,” she looked at everyone in turn, her gaze finally falling on me. “Winifred. Beautiful name, no? Fred not girl name, but baby Fred won’t mind when she learns of her name sake.” Fleur bit her lower lip. I could tell she was hoping she hadn’t done anything wrong.

And she had done far from wrong.

“Winifred, Fred for short is a fitting name for a baby so sweet,” I said, looking down at Winifred . . . Fred.

“This is the best Christmas present I could have asked for . . . and it’s not even my baby,” I choked. “Can I keep her?”

Everyone laughed, choked up and tearing as well.

“No, I don’t think so, but you can love her.” Fleur nodded. “Everyone love baby Fred, teach her about our Fred, no?”

Best present ever . . .

Sometimes the biggest presents do come in the smallest packages.

“Yes.” I said and I smiled. Somewhere I know my Fred is smiling too.

FIN!

(1) My my water it broke
(2) Now . . . now . . . help me
(3) Please
(4) Yes, yes, please, hurry . . .
(5) It’s a girl/Beautiful baby girl