A/N. This is the final chapter of this story. This story started off as a one-shot and then I got a lot of requests to continue, and then I was just eager for one more chapter. Here it is.

...~oOo~...

One of the many advantages of being a ghost, Fred Weasley knew, was that it was impossible to lose anything. In turn, nothing could hide from you. There was an infinite amount of spaces, nooks, crannies, and hidey-holes that a ghost had access to and an adult just didn't.

So when Fred heard a frantically maternal voice call out, "Rosie! Rosie, where are you?" in the shop one sunny Saturday, Fred was exactly the person - or, entity, rather - for the job.

The many layers of the chaotic, wild whop were easy to manipulate in his form. It only took a matter of minutes for him to find a bush of red curls tucked in an almost invisible corner made by two shelves on the uppermost level. An alive being wouldn't have been able to find her - but Fred wasn't alive.

Very careful not to startle the little girl, Fred nudged one of the shelves just enough for her to see out.

"Hey, Rosie," Fred said softly, tilting his head in such a way to make her only see one of his ears. "Your mum is looking for you, love."

Sniffling, the little girl, about seven years old, didn't look up from where her face was buried in her knees. "I'm not leaving."

"Mum will be worried, darling," Fred told her. "If you're a good girl, I promise to have a special present waiting for you at Gran's tonight."

The look that Rose put on her face was so Hermione that Fred had to stop himself from laughing. It was a blunt, knowing, do-you-really-think-you-can-fool-me look. Scrunched nose and all.

"You're not Uncle George," Rose said. Not a question. A fact.

Fred snorted. "I guess I should have expected as much from Hermione's daughter. Can't fool you."

"You're Uncle Fred," Rose supplied, expressing her intelligence further.

"How did you know?"

"Uncle George is old. You're not. There's pictures of you all over our house."

"So you know I'm -"

"Dead. Yes," she confirmed.

With another unbelieving laugh, Fred stepped through the shelves sheltering Rose and shared the cramped space with her, sliding down next to her and making it look like he was solidly leaning against the wall.

"So, tell me, Rose, what else do you know about me?"

Rose's nose scrunched again, but it was more of a thinking expression now. "Not much. Uncle George and Dad don't like to talk about you much, it always makes them sad. Mum does, though. She told me about how you and Uncle George put a swamp in Hogwarts."

Nodding nostalgically, Fred sighed. "That we did. It was easily one of our most impressive stunts, our exit from school. It was a masterpiece."

"Mum said it was a bloody mess."

Fred blinked. "Are you allowed to use words like that?"

Rose shrugged and rubbed her drying eyes. Being a know-it-all seemed to make the tears recede. "Dad says naughty words all the time."

"Yes, well, your dad might not always be the best role model sometimes, especially when it comes to his mouth," Fred told her. "Now, why don't you tell me why you don't want to go home?"

The frown that creased Rose's face made her look a decade older. "Mum and Dad are fighting."

"Ah," Fred said understandingly, nodding. "Mums and Dads do that sometimes."

"I don't like it when they fight. They yell and swear and then they don't talk to each other for days, and then everything goes back to normal... like they were never mad at each other. Even though they never said sorry."

From the mouths of babes. Rose was living proof that children saw a lot more than their parents gave them credit for. Little kids were so much more perceptive than adults, whose sensitivity dulled over the coarse of time.

"Your mum and dad are still kind of young," Fred said.

Rose's face scrunched once more, all of her freckles twisting with her incredulous look.

Fred laughed. "They are! They're not as old as you think. They're still figuring things out. Having kids is a big change, and they have two now, don't they? And as you change, their lives change. They don't have the same problems as they did when you were an infant."

"So its my fault?" Rose's eyes glossed over with tears once more.

"No, no, dear," Fred said, shaking his head. He wished he was solid more than ever, so that he could maybe brush back her hair, or pat her head, or do something to comfort her.

Fred remembered the first time Rose had come into the shop. She hadn't been walking for very long, but Hermione was showing George how good she'd gotten. Well, the little toddling baby went toppling down after only a few steps, knocking her bum and head, erupting into a fit of crying.

And before Hermione had even gotten the chance, George had swooped in and plucked little Rosie off the ground and into his arms, holding her close to his chest and bouncing her softly, murmuring soft hush noises to her.

Fred didn't think he'd ever been so jealous before. When he'd seen Rose fall, he'd had the same instinct as both Hermione and George - he moved towards her, arms outstretched to lift her. But he couldn't. He couldn't have picked Rose up if he'd wanted to.

And there Rose was again, years later, crying in the shop for another reason altogether, and he hug or rock her at all.

"It isn't your fault," Fred continued. "It's the natural order of things. Your parents love you and your brother very much. They just need to sort some things out."

"Gran and Pop don't ever fight," Rose said.

Fred scoffed. "Hah! Your grandma and grandpa are the king and queen of lover quarrels! Sure, your Pop may seem like a pretty mellow guy, always taking whatever his old lady dishes out - she's got a nasty temper - but believe you me that there were times in my youth where my mum and dad could knock down the Burrow with their rows."

Rose's eyes were wide. "No way."

"Yes way," Fred assured her, nodding. "Believe me. Ask your Pop about Easter holiday of '87. He'll tell you just how crazy those two got. Don't ask in front of Gran, though, unless you want a full-fledged reenactment of the event - which I assure you, you do not."

Rose smiled and nodded before saying, "Uncle Fred... why don't I see you around more?"

Fred paused and sighed. "You know how you said talking about me makes Dad and George sad? Well, I imagine my being here would have the same effect."

"Oh." Rose nodded. "That's too bad. Mum had seen you here before, though, right?"

Wow, this kid was either Einstein or a Seer. "How'd you know?"

"Sometimes when we visit to bring dad lunch, she'll look around - even if there's no one there - like she's looking for something," Rose explained. "And after looking for a while, she'll smile to herself, even though nothing happened."

Fred's mouth tipped into a crooked smile, but Rose could see that it had a hint of sadness there.

"Do you miss my mum?" Rose asked.

"Yeah," Fred said with a deep breath. "I do."

"Why don't you see her anymore? She's looking for you."

"It isn't fair, see," Fred said with a shrug. "She has a life, a family, and friends - she shouldn't worry about me. I'm dead."

"I think she likes knowing you're here," Rose told him. "She keeps a picture of you and Uncle George in her purse, you know."

"Really?"

"Yep. And when I want a story at bedtime, sometimes she'll take it out and tell me about a prank you pulled, or a rule you broke, or a battle you fought. They're my favorite stories." Rose paused. "Dad didn't like it for a time, though. Said I was too young to know so much about how you died. But Mum said that you were a hero and that I had every right to know everything I could about you."

"Your mother is quite the woman," Fred said. "Between you and me, I fancied her for some time."

With a little disgusted face, Rose said, "Really?"

"Yeah. I had a grand plan to steal her from your dad. Didn't work out though, obviously. Died and all. But in another lifetime, Rosie, I think you could have been my daughter."

"From the way mum says she was frustrated with your nonsense in school, I kind of doubt that."

"Ah, Rosie," Fred said with a grin, "you obviously don't know the charms a Weasley twin possesses. Your Uncle George and I - we're lady killers. I would have married your mum, I guarantee it."

Rose seemed to contemplate that. "Dad would be sad, though. He loves Mum an awful lot."

"I know."

"And you still would have stole her?"

"Definitely."

"Doesn't seem fair."

"Love isn't fair, kid. And neither is life - which is sort of why I'm here. Even non-life isn't fair."

Rose giggled, and then halted when she heard a new voice behind her, much louder and closer, "Rose! Ro - Oh! There you are!" The shelves were shoved further apart, revealing Rose's hiding spot to her mother. Hermione looked absolutely frazzled. "Rose Winifred Weasley, I have turned this store inside out looking for you! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Mummy, I was just talking to -"

But when Rose turned to see Fred, there was nothing there. Nothing, no body - just air. Rose sighed and felt the heat of tears behind her eyes. She felt a little panic. What if he didn't come back? What if he was gone forever? She didn't get to say goodbye!

"Talking to who, exactly?" Hermione inquired tentatively.

Rose looked up at her mother. Rose wanted to tell her mother about everything that her Uncle Fred said - about parents and life and his plan to steal her heart. But Rose also knew that the smile that appeared on her mother's face every time she entered the shop and looked for Fred was very dejected. Mum missed Uncle Fred, and Rose could see the look in her mother's eyes now as she asked who she'd been speaking to - an eagerness, but also a hesitance.

Fred had said it wasn't fair to Hermione to burden her with his presence - and Rose didn't agree.

But Rose really didn't want to make her mum upset by saying that Uncle Fred talked to her when he hadn't visited her mum in what seemed like a while.

"No one," Rose fibbed. "I was just here by myself."

Hugo was balanced on Hermione's hip, getting fidgety and yanking at her hair. "Mama! Mama!" he said, pointing wildly away from them, at a wall.

Turning to see what her son was pointing at, Hermione saw nothing.

"What is it, Hugo?" Hermione asked, looking left and right for what Hugo was pointing fervently at. "Do you see it, Rose?"

With a little shrug and a secret smile, Rose said, "Maybe he saw a ghost?"

And before Hermione could respond, she saw something on the floor in the direction of where Hugo was pointing. Walking over slowly, Hermione stopped and looked down at the object.

It was a checkerboard. And the round red and black pieces formed a big letter F.

It was like message just for her, a secret, an inside joke between the ghost and the girl he once loved. A little sign from her dear friend, saying "I'm still here."

And for the first time in a long time, Hermione laughed so hard that she cried.

THE END

...~oOo~...

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~