A/N: Thanks to everyone who is reading this chapter because it hopefully means you've read this story to the end! Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed this, it really did make me smile to read those reviews. So glad I was finally able to finish a multichapter fic! And for those of you reading this and wondering about Storybook Murder (if there are any), don't worry, I have the next three chapters written, I just have to find the time to type them up amidst all the busy-ness. Once again, thanks for reading, and me no own!

Fred visited Earth only a few more times.

Death explained to him that this could happen to anyone, even after they'd gone on- when their loved ones were thinking of them most strongly, they would be called back down to Earth, invisibly and only for a few hours. The first time this happened, George was hosting a grand reopening of the shop.

It had taken George a while, Fred thought as he flitted through the shelves. He supposed getting your life back together after a month of nothing could do that, as well as the mountain of favors he was now doing for his family to try and assuage his guilt. Plus there was the fact that the store just hadn't been in very good shape after the war, and four weeks of neglect had done nothing to help things.

He checked out all of the new products (some of which surpassed even Fred's wildest ideas). He also checked up on all of his family and close friends because George, the selfish git, hadn't gone near enough to them for Fred to see them before he'd gone to the afterlife. They all seemed to be doing a little better than when they'd been crying over his body at Hogwarts (although, after that, almost anything was doing better). They weren't happy by any means, but still, better.

George managed a few laughs, one of which was close to his old laugh before the war, and a couple halfway decent jokes. He also, when Fred followed him into the storeroom, looked around as though he could sense Fred, but seemed to brush it off as nothing.

The next few visits were all the expected ones, birthdays and holidays and special occasions and the anniversary and his birthday. As years went by, they got less and less frequent, his family looking less and less haggard every time he saw them, until finally he visited George and Angelina on the first day in the life of their newborn son.

"I told him I would kill him for this." Fred said as he watched George and Angelina together with their baby boy. For a moment, he felt a bit of regret tugging him back to George and to Earth, for the family he would never have.

"What's his name?" asked the nurse.

George and Angelina looked at each other, smiling sappy, goopy, contented smiles. Some of Fred's regret faded, and with it, he felt a loosening, something lightening in his spirit until he could barely hang on to Earth anymore.

"Fred." George said. "His name is Fred."

And Fred let go.