The entire Weasley family had been silent for hours in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, not emitting the slightest of sounds, not even the scuffling of shoes, or sniffling of noses. Then again, it wasn't like they had a choice. If one had even thought about saying something (whether it was to comfort or not) Molly shot them a sharp glare to insinuate that there would be absolute silence- or else.
They were grieving, and grieving hard over the death of one of the nefarious jokesters of the family. In fact, everyone was. Slytherins, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors alike. Fred had died in the early hours of that morning, his last laugh etched upon his face, forever remaining among the locks of sooty ginger hair and deep chocolate eyes. However, it was no laughing matter. He had left behind an enormous family, an expecting fiancée, and a legacy of pranking supplies that would never be sold again without him. Those who knew him had given up hope, which isn't what he would've wanted at all. Especially not for Hermione.
She had stopped eating altogether, stopped reading, and given up on her studies. The most she could do was to stare blankly out of the window of her dorm, over the spot where Fred had proposed. Unblinkingly, she'd imagine, and replay that day in her head continuously, just wishing, hoping. The whole of Hogwarts had noticed, and even the Slytherins missed their Gryffindor princess, and the witty comebacks she used to send Harry and Ron's way daily. The first years were lost and hopeless without her help, and the teachers weren't being corrected in the necessary ways. Hogwarts was crumbling right alongside her.
A strong, callused hand slid smoothly over her shoulder, it's match gently tucking a strand of unruly hair behind the small ear possessed by the mousy girl. 'Hermione. You've got to come down eventually" he pleaded. "I know how you feel, trust me, and the best thing for you to do; the best thing for the baby..." George began, trailing off as he saw the silver tear emerge from her eye. "Mione, you've got to move on. Hell, I don't even want to, but its for the best." He placed a solitary finger under her chin, turning Hermione to face him. George raised an eyebrow, wiping the glistening tears off of her cheek with the pads of his thumbs.
"I'm not ready for any of this, George." she whispered sharply, ignoring the accumulating pain in the bottom of her throat due to the unshed tears. "I'm not strong enough. I- I can't..."
"No, that's exactly what Fred wouldn't want. He'd hate to see you giving up like this, and you know he would. 'Mione, look at me . You have to push through" he mumbled. "Find a way, do whatever it takes. I'll stay by you the entire time, we have to keep pushing through."