Everyone was sitting around the table at the Burrow. No one really knew what to do or say. It wasn't silent, it was just empty.
Finally Mr Weasley stood up with a very tired sigh, "Would anyone like some tea?" He asked.
There was a murmur around the table, though it was impossible to tell what anyone was saying, but Mr Weasley took it as yes and put the kettle on. There was suddenly the sound of a chair scrapping against the stone floor and George disappeared up the stairs; Mrs Weasley put her hands in her head and began to cry.
"Molly," Mr Weasley said, quietly, putting his hand on her shoulder.
"I'll go," Ginny said, pushing her own chair back.
She followed George up the stairs and pushed open the door to his (and Fred's) room, "George?"
George was curled up on the bottom bunk, Fred's bed, his knees to his chest and his face to the wall.
"Georgie?" Ginny whispered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing a hand on her brother's trembling shoulder.
George stopped trembling, sat up and wrapped his arms around Ginny and cried.
It broke Ginny's heart to see her older brother, the joker in dark times, like this, and it physically pained her to know that the one person who could cheer George up was gone forever.
Gradually everyone went to bed; Hermione into Ginny's room and Harry into Ron's, and eventually George into Percy's. The Burrow felt empty over the next few days, despite the many people coming and going. Mrs Weasley either locked herself up for the day with George or was so busy organising the funeral and looking after everyone else that she didn't sit down all day. Harry, Ron and Hermione spent most of their time in Ron's room, sometimes along with Ginny and once or twice with George too.
It was the fourth day after the war, and for the first time since the night of the war Harry and Ginny were alone, Hermione had just left the room and Ron had been down stairs for almost half an hour now.
It was Ginny who spoke first, breaking the suddenly awkward silence, "What happened?"
Harry looked up at her, unsure of what she was asking.
"This whole year, where were you, what happened to you guys?"
"Hermione hasn't told you?"
"She said I should ask you."
"I-I really don't want to talk about it Ginny, not, not yet. Not now," Harry told her, quietly but firmly.
Ginny nodded, "Okay."
Harry smiled sadly at her.
"Are you okay?" Ginny asked him, a stupid question of course, none of them were okay, but she felt that in all of the chaos no one had asked Harry how he felt.
Harry paused for a moment, a sarcastic answer ready to slip off his tongue as always, "I'll be okay," he said finally.
Ginny got up off Ron's bed and sat down next to Harry's on his.
She took his hand and kissed it, and he rested his head on her shoulder.
"Gin?" Harry whispered, slowly caressing her hand with his thumb
"Yeah?"
"Maybe after the funerals we should talk about us,"
"Us?" Ginny questioned.
"Yeah, us," Harry murmured.
"Okay," Ginny whispered, then she sighed and rested her head on Harry's; her heart beating fast as she wondered what Harry was going to say after the funerals.