George and Percy Weasley stood in the main room of Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes, yelling abuse at each other. The floor was littered with shards of glass and an assortment of broken merchandise. Percy had once again brought up Fred, angering George.
"You're a prat, Percy! A complete prat!" screamed George, his face red.
"You should have died! Not Fred!" Percy spluttered, his horn-rimmed glasses askew, eyes aglaze with hatred.
George froze in shock just as Molly Weasley and Hermione Granger walked in.
"What's going on here?" asked Hermione softly, her eyes scanning the room.
"Nothing," spat Percy as he stalked into the back room with Molly close behind him.
Hermione looked at George, a frown etching itself upon her face.
"George?" she whispered as she stepped towards him.
George shook his head, a single tear slowly sliding down his cheek. Percy's words spun in his head, jeering at him.
Hermione reached out and took hold of George's wrist and with a faint popping noise they were gone, leaving the destroyed shop behind them.
Hermione and George appeared in the middle of a dense forest, far from Diagon Alley and Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes.
Hermione led George to the base of a tree and sat down. With a gentle flick of her wand, a blue ball of light appeared above their heads, illuminating their faces.
"What happened?" asked Hermione.
"He wishes I had died, instead," whispered George, placing his face in his hands.
"He doesn't really mean it, George."
"He does, I saw it in his face. He hates me," replied George.
Hermione sighed softly, tilting her head to look up at the sky.
"You really miss him, don't you?" she asked quietly.
George nodded, wiping his face.
"We all do," she whispered, gently taking his hand.
"I know," said George.
"He'll never leave you, George. He'll always be there, whenever you need him."
George squeezed Hermione's hand tightly, grateful for her words. He missed Fred, and the absence of his brother weighed heavily upon him. He had never been separated from Fred before, for everything they had done, they had done together.
They sat quietly together, allowing the growing darkness to absorb their grief. Neither felt the need to speak, for they both knew what it was to lose someone.
Several minutes passed in silence before George turned to Hermione.
"Thankyou," he whispered.
"It's okay," she said, smiling at him.
Without pausing to think, George leant forward and kissed her. After a moment he backed away, face reddening in the sudden silence.
"Sorry," he muttered, turning his head away from Hermione.
Hermione sat motionless for a moment, staring at George. Then, without a moment's hesitation, she moved in front of George and turned his face to hers.
"No you're not," she stated matter-of-factly.
George looked at Hermione, a faint smile touching his lips. She was so bossy sometimes, he thought to himself.
"I'm not?" he asked, deciding to feign innocence.
"No. You aren't," she replied before pressing her lips to his.
George shrugged and slid his arms around Hermione, holding her tightly. After all, she was right, he wasn't sorry. In fact, he felt that he should have kissed her a long time ago.
After several moments, George leant back, breaking the kiss.
"What's the matter?" asked Hermione softly.
"Marry me," whispered George.
As soon as he had spoken the words, his chest tightened and he forgot to breathe. Time passed slowly, each second becoming an eternity.
Finally, Hermione spoke.
"Yes."