For the May Event at Hogwarts
Long after the funeral, long after everyone else left, a lone figure could be seen still standing in front of the memorial erected by the Black Lake. Back hunched, fists clenched, he stared at a single name located in the middle of the slab of stone.
That name on stone was nothing – wasn't flesh on flesh, wasn't the sound of laughter ringing in the air, it meant nothing. And yet, here he still was.
Footsteps crunched lightly on the grass behind him. He turned.
"George," Molly whispered. "Let's go home."
If his eyes looked glossy, she didn't say a word.