Her eyes were red. Her cheeks were pink. And her nose was runny. She had cried for days, knowing that he was gone. Her pain troubled her body like a deadly sickness, and his death plagued her conscience.
She threw another tissue at her waste basket and missed, again. 'Why do I always do something wrong?' she asked herself mentally, for possibly the millionth time that week.
Thoughts of him spread through her mind. His blue eyes staring into hers in the Gryffindor common room, the site of thier first kiss. His rough hand folding over her own slightly chapped fingers, and his lips touching hers as gently as she thought he couldn't be.
And then, she wouldn't ever feel those lips again.
Her already tear-filled eyes flooded over again, and she gasped for breath and tried to push the tears back. She closed her eyes, slowing the flow of salty water down her cheeks, and his face replaced her eyelids, his eyes filled with love as he got down on one knee. She had screamed in joy before he had even gotten the words out, and joyfully accepted the ring that tied her to him forever. But she no longer had that ring. It had died with him.
Her mind showed her his pale face in the coffin, his bright red hair dulled and cut short, just for his funeral. She remembered touching his hand and whispering her goodbyes, before she had spun on the spot and apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. She pushed them open, and, surprisingly, they opened easily for her.
She had run until she had run out of breath, and ended up infront of the Great Lake. She had yanked off the ring on her finger and thrown it as far as she could into the lake, and watched it sink with her future, her plans and her engagement, her love and her care. Now they all sat at the bottom of the lake at Hogwarts, where they belonged.
Hermione lay back onto her pillow, the tears seeping out of the corners of her eyes. She steadily fell into sleep, his face plaguing her dreams and nightmares in all.
That unforgettable face of George Weasley.