Right after the Battle, and after returning the Elder wand to Dumbledore's tomb, Harry went to the Great Hall at last. He knew it would be anything but easy to walk through the Hall and see all the dead and their loved ones crying over them.
But as he entered the Hall, it seemed oddly silent, for, in the while it had taken Harry to return the wand and come back, the enormity of what had happened seemed to sink in for everyone. They all, young and old, realized that Voldemort was finally gone, for good, and never coming back. But everyone also realized that in these last few hours, they had each lost someone; whether a family member, a friend, a lover, a loved one, or simply someone they had once said hi to.
Nonetheless, they had each lost someone that day, and so, torn between overwhelming happiness and crippling grief, no one knew exactly whether they wanted to cheer or weep, so they all settled for being silent. Everyone sat either next to the cold, motionless bodies of their deceased or next to those they love who survived, all silent, as though they had all wordlessly agreed that it was the most respectful thing to do.
Some whispered conversations broke out here and there; people silently discussing what had happened and how and why it did, others were muttering comforting words to those close by. And then there were those whose emotions couldn't be put into words, so they let them out in the form of silent tears.
The loudest sound in the Hall was coming from a group of redheads who sat at the far end of the Hall, where the staff table once was. Those were the ones Harry dreaded seeing most, but also looked forward to talking to more than any other.
And so he walked slowly to where they were huddled together, hoping not to see what he knew he was bound to see. As he closed in on them, he saw that they were all grouped around Fred's motionless body, Lupin and Tonks's lying a little space away.
He first caught sight of Ron, who was sitting on a bench, holding hands with Hermione; she was patting his back with her free hand and, Harry was sure Ron was crying. Next to him sat Bill and Fleur who were embracing silently. Percy was sitting beside Fred's immobile body, holding his hand, crying and whispering to him what Harry assumed were apologies.
Finally, he saw what he would've given anything not to see; Ginny, sitting at Fred's head, cross-legged, with his head in her lap. And she was crying, actually crying; the girl Harry had almost never seen cry, and there she was, sitting in a hall full of people, sobbing loudly and uncontrollably. But Ginny crying wasn't the worst sight of all, and that was saying something.
George was sitting on a bench behind Ginny; he was looking in front of him, but not at his family or at Fred's dead body. He was looking past all that and past all the people in the Hall at its giant doors, as though waiting for someone to come; it wasn't too Hard for Harry to guess who that someone was. Charlie was sitting next to him, trying, unsuccessfully, to comfort him, for every time Charlie tried to put his arm around George's shoulder, the latter would push him away and say loudly, "HE IS NOT DEAD". Charlie seemed to be thinking hard, trying to figure out what was best to say to George, but every time he opened his mouth to speak, he seemed to think better of it and he'd close his mouth again.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing over their family, Mrs. Weasley's head was resting over Mr. Weasley's shoulder; her sobbing was the only sound in the Hall that was as loud as Ginny. Mr. Weasley was rubbing her shoulders, trying to comfort her, while he himself looked distraught. Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he saw something glistening on Mr. Weasley's cheek.
He looked over at Lupin and Tonks's motionless forms and was hit by the tragic realization that not only will they never again see their son, but also a baby, who was sitting at home with his grandmother right then, would never again see his parents, that a young child would, like Harry, never know his parents, and would have to grow up without the tender, loving touch of a mother or the protection of a father. That also a mother who was sitting at home right now with her grandson would soon find out that her daughter and son-in-law were both dead, and that her grandson was orphaned.
A fresh wave of guilt washed over him and overwhelmed him with its power. He found his legs moving towards the Weasleys and his lips moving without his permission, and, in a barely audible voice, he said, "I'm really really sorry, this is all my fault, I sh—". He was cut off by at least eight different people weakly telling him that it wasn't his fault and that he shouldn't feel guilty.
But the fastest, loudest and strongest reaction came from none other than Ginny herself. She was suddenly off the floor and on her feet, and, in the next second, she had pulled out her wand, leapt to where Harry was standing and, pointing her wand at Harry's throat she said hoarsely but fiercely, "Oh, no you don't, don't you dare blame this one on yourself, Harry. My brother just died and that's bad enough, but I can't have you putting this on your shoulders , that would be unbearable, so don't you dare blame yourself. And I swear to God, Harry, if I ever again hear you apologizing or feeling bad for Fred's or anyone else's death, so help me Harry, I'll hex you so badly, they'll have to admit you to St. Mungo's. So don't you dare." The last part was a snarl. For some reason he couldn't figure out, her words had managed to comfort him a little and ease some of the guilt that still filled him.
When she was done yelling at him, Ginny just stood there catching her breath, and Harry stood in front of her, unsure what to say or do. He finally pulled her into a very tight hug, as though making up for all the months they'd spent apart. She hugged him back, and they both stood there for a seemingly endless moment, Ginny sobbing into Harry's shoulder, and Harry patting the top of her head, a single tear finally betraying him and falling down his cheek and into her hair.
They stood there for an immeasurable moment, holding each other, unaware of the hundreds of eyes that were staring at them from all over the Hall. The only one who didn't seem to notice the exchange was George who still stared ahead, ignoring everyone else, ignoring his twin's dead body, waiting for a ghost that would never come back…