1.8

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Calla didn't want to close her eyes.

She wanted to take in every moment Fred had with their son. Though she could craft the stone into a ring like it once was before, she knew Fred didn't belong in this world. He was a shade of who he used to be, and even though he was happy to be back with them, there was an annoying feeling of discomfort which was a constant reminder that he was not actually alive.

Fred stood, rocking their baby to sleep once more. He was a natural, Calla just wished she'd be able to witness this all the time.

"You can go to sleep," Fred said. Calla shook her head, although sleep sounded absolutely amazing, she didn't want to.

One, if her grip on the stone loosened and she dropped it whilst Fred was holding Arthur, then Arthur would end up on the floor. Two, she wanted to see every moment of the love of her life interact with their son.

"Here then, I'm going to get Mum and the others." He handed the small child to Calla, who immediately wrapped her arms around him.

Fred walked out the room, stopping in the waiting room. He was pulled into a hug by the family members there — the rest would join them later that morning.

The group followed Fred back to Calla's room. He opened the door to reveal a very sleepy Calla and a tiny, plump baby that had fiery red hair already.

"Aw, look at his little hands." Hermione cooed.

Molly and George argued over which of them should hold Arthur first and it was exhausting to everyone so Calla handed the baby to Bill. Bill stared down at his nephew, a little shocked as the child's hair changed from a red to a brown.

"He's a metamorphagus?" Bill questioned, still looking at the baby in his arms.

"What?" Everyone asked at once, standing to get a closer look. Calla raised her eyebrow.

"He probably got it from my mother." She yawned. Hermione tried to convince her to go to sleep but she refused once again.

Fred and Calla watched their son get passed around before he landed in Fred's arms once more. The group said they would return with the others once they've had some sleep, and so it was just Calla, Fred, and Arthur.

"I wish you were here," Calla said softly, looking at her late lover hold their baby.

"I am."

"No, I mean actually here. Like alive and breathing and I wouldn't have to hold the stone to see you."

Fred frowned. "I'd stay forever if I could. But you know I don't belong here, but I'll come as many times as you want me to. Hell, if you never let go of the stone, I'll never complain. I get to see you and little Arty and George. It's just a little hard, you know?"

Calla nodded. She had read about the lack of comfort the shades felt. Fred wasn't a ghost but he wasn't alive either, and the other world would be calling him back. However, if he really wanted to be here, he'd feel less discomfort, but the longer he stays, the stronger the pull to return becomes. Which sucked a lot.

"I don't want to sleep." Calla mumbled.

"Go to sleep, we'll lay with you. Arthur will be here when you wake, and so will everyone else."

"But you won't."

dear fred ⚯͛ f. weasleyWhere stories live. Discover now