Title: You save my life

Author: hweasley

Pairing: Hermione/George

Rating: M

Summary: The people around George Weasley seem to be moving on so naturally but he can't pull himself out of the deep, dark hole of grief. Can an old family friend pull him to safety once and for all? Post DH. George/Hermione. Mentions of Ron/Hermione.

Chapter 1:

Sometimes the place I go is so deep and dark and desperate
-Every Day by Rascal Flatts

George Weasley was sitting on the floor behind the counter of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes praying to Merlin that know one would find their way inside the shop. He was absent mindedly counting the tiles on the floor. He let his gaze wander to the clock on the wall, only a few more hours until I can go upstairs, he thought to himself and then went back to counting floor tiles.

Not a moment later the bell rang signaling someone had just opened the door. George stopped counting but did stand up. He hoped that if he stayed out of sight long enough whoever came in would go away. George held his breath and listened. The footsteps he heard were light against the floor; obviously female. Instead of shuffling away from him they seem to be getting closer. Just go away, he hissed quietly.

"George," A female voice called. "George Weasley! I know you're here. You come out this instance. This foolishness has gone on long enough."

George groaned and rolled his eyes. He wanted to stay right where he was but George knew the owner of the voice well enough to know she would stay here until doomsday. George climbed to his feet dusting off his navy blue robes. "Hello Hermione," he greeted her. "And what brings you here today?"

Hermione was standing there staring at him with anger flashing in her deep brown eyes. She was wearing burgundy robes and carrying a shoulder bag on her left shoulder. Her usually wild chestnut colored hair was pulled up in a haphazard bun. "What brings me here?" she asked her voice dangerously quiet. "I will tell you. I saw your poor mother today." Hermione fumed. "Do you know what she told me?"

"Burgundy is not your color?" George suggested and decided to try and joke his way out of this. "Which, I must say is blatant lie because you have never looked better. I like that thing you are doing with your hair. What is that? That some sort of fashion statement because-"

"George!" Hermione interrupted looking ready to kill him.

George threw his hands up. "No!" he said. "I don't know what my mother told you but I would be willing to bet my other ear that you are going to share whatever it is with me so….."

Hermione approached the counter which made George a little uneasy so he backed away slowly. Hermione sat her bag on the counter and continued to stare at George. The silence began to overwhelm him. Fred was never afraid of the stern Hermione but George was a little scared of her sometimes. Finally, she slammed a hand on the counter and George jumped. "Your mother informed me that you have not been to the Burrow in six weeks."

"Really?" George asked growing a little angry himself. "I had no idea." He smiled in mock appreciation. "Thanks Hermione, without you how would I ever keep my social engagements straight." George pointed to the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me I have to finish counting the floor tiles."

Hermione reached across the counter and grabbed his arm. "Listen to me and listen good." She hissed, "You're family is like my own. You are like family to me." She paused trying to make her tone gentler. "I won't pretend that I know what you are going through-"

"Good," George spat trying to pull away from her. "Because nothing makes me angrier than someone who has no idea about true loss tries to tell me how to grieve."

Hermione let George pull his arm back, "True Grief?" she repeated looking as if George had slapped her.

It took George a moment to register what he said. "Oh, Hermione, I-"he started. "I am sorry…."

"No," she said coolly. "You're right. What I experienced is different than what you experienced but it was no less real." She smiled sadly, "You're hurting. But you're not alone. You're family, Harry, Me and so many others loved him too. You can't avoid you're family because if the pain. Ok? They need you. You need them. You're mother misses Fred so much and she needs to see you. To grieve with you. Can't you-"

"No." George said. "I can't." He turned and walked out of the room. He went behind a curtain and stood there quietly hoping she would just go away. Hermione stood there for a moment staring at the spot George had just vacated. George almost felt bad for her as she picked up her bag and sadly walked away.

The bell rang on the door signaling that Hermione was gone. He waited a moment to be sure and then he walked back to the counter. With a wave of his wand George locked the door, turned the light off and turned the sign around to say closed. The shop didn't usually close for a few more hours but after his confrontation with Hermione he couldn't stay here for another minute. George grabbed the receipts from the day's sales and the ledger book showing all of the shops financial business for the month. He needed to do his books. He couldn't remember the last time he actually did that. Fred was usually the financial man. George was more hands on with the business. He fixed things, stocked shelves and the like…Fred was the business head here.

George went into the flat he used to share with his brother. He turned the lights on and looked around. The flat was messy and completely disorganized. So many of Fred's things were still lying around. He never had the heart to put them away or get rid of them. To get rid of Fred's things would mean to really admit Fred wasn't coming back and he couldn't do that- not yet.

He opened the refrigerator door and stared at the barren shelves. He took out the milk carton and drank straight out of it. George threw the carton away and stood there staring at the flat again. People say that time heals everything and when Fred died some part of George believed that in time he would feel better. But time was passing and instead of things getting better they were getting worse. Time seemed to be moving slowly and his life seemed to stagnate. George was well aware that he could probably change his present circumstances but he didn't know how. George felt like a ghost that was just floating through life; haunting the living and existing separate from them. George saw a veil between him and the people he loved. He wasn't of this world anymore and Fred, the person who understood him better than anyone else in the world, had gone where he could not follow.

George looked at the ledger and the receipts on the table. He decided to leave them there. He couldn't concentrate on that kind if stuff right now. Instead George went to his room. He threw himself onto the bed, fully clothed, and closed his eyes. He wasn't going to sleep. Sleep was one of things, like social interaction, that eluded him lately. No, he would lay here fir most of the night remembering the man he used to be. His future at one time was bright and so exciting that he couldn't wait to start everyday.

George waved his wand and turned the lights off in his room. He placed the wand on his bedside table and grabbed the comforter off the floor. He threw the heavy, blanket over his body and stared at the ceiling.

I am sorry Fred. I know that if I had died you would have found a way to go on. But, I am not you and I can't do this alone.