The world was empty and nothing was right. George knew no happiness. All he did every day was drink fire whiskey and mope around his house. People had tried to cheer him up, but it was no use.

Fred was gone.

"Ugh! What's the use in trying to cheer him up when he can't even hear us because he's drunk all the time?" thought the Arithmancy teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Today was Hermione Granger's shift for checking on George Weasley. After the war, George sunk into a depression, closing his shop, and locking himself in Fred's old room for days on end, only leaving to get food and fire whiskey.

Don't get her wrong, Hermione loved Fred. He was like a best friend to her.

Well, was. George didn't really have conversations with her anymore. Or with anyone, really.

Hermione thoughts were interrupted as some kids ran up to her.

"Auntie 'Mione! Auntie 'Mione!"

"Albus, Lily, I told you to call me Professor Granger at school! And no running" Hermione hugged them anyway.

"We wanted to ask you if Uncle George was going to start making toys again?" they asked excitedly.

Hermione froze. What was she supposed to say? "Sorry, Uncle George is depressed and has been drunk for that past 2 months straight," no, of course not. But if George didn't shape up soon, the kids would suspect it's something more than, "He's still sick!"

"Well… I don't know, I'll ask him for you, okay?" she replied haphazardly.

"Okay!" Completely oblivious to Hermione lying, they both hugged her goodbye and hurried off to whatever class they had next.

"George better not be drunk when I go over there tonight or I'm going to kick his-"

"-ARSE IF YOU DON'T COME OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW!"

Hermione was currently yelling at George who was locked in the bathroom this time. Hermione had decided George needed discipline instead of sympathy, because whatever the others were doing obviously wasn't working.

"PISS OFF!" George yelled, or rather slurred.

"YOU LEAVE ME NO CHOICE!" Hermione pointed her wand at the door and said "Alohamora!" and with a 'click' the door unlocked. Hermione flung the door open to show a George who was clad just in his boxers sitting on the floor with his head resting against the cabinet.

Hermione couldn't help but notice that George was still in shape from his years of Quidditch, and the perfectly cute lines of his body-

"No! Just get him out of here, Granger; ignore everything else!" Hermione thought angrily to herself.

"I saidf pishh opf!" George mumbled.

"Oh, shut up." Hermione heaved George off the floor, swung his arm over her shoulder, and dragged him onto the couch in his living room.

"I don't needth your helpf!" George yelled, but he was already on the couch.

"Yes you do; starting with cleaning your apartment." Hermione replied huffily, while looking around in horror. She promptly started waving her wand and cleaning all the empty bottles and boxes of who-knows-what away.

"I don't-"but before George could finish his sentence, he had drifted off to a troubled sleep.

"Figures," Hermione said to herself.

A/N: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER, THE AMAZING J.K. ROWLING DOES!

I hope you guys like it! I promise it will get better.

Keep on shipping Hermione/George!

~Au Revoir!~