AN: Thanks for all of the reviews guys! :) Since most of my reviewers want me to continue with the story that is what I'm going to do. YAY!

Disclaimer: I don't own it. On with the show.

Chapter 2- Breakdown

The two arrived with a loud pop and started to look around at their surroundings. Hermione gazed past the gates at a shadowy figure steadily moving towards them. She tapped George's shoulder and after catching his attention, pointed towards the figure. "George, look. It's Hagrid!" Hermione exclaimed.

Hagrid soon reached them and unlocked the gates, granting entrance to the grounds. "'ello 'ermione, George," he boomed.

"Hello Hagrid," they echoed, walking quickly to keep up with Hagrid's long strides.

"'ow ya doin' George?" Hagrid asked in a low rumble as the castle came into view. He looked down and took in the young man's slightly hunched form and chilly demeanor and began to wonder whether or not he said the wrong thing.

"I'm fine Hagrid. Just fine," George responded, leaving no room for arguments as he looked around the grounds. He suddenly halted and stared straight ahead, causing Hermione to knock into him lightly.

"George what are you -" she stopped as she saw what he was staring at. The line of coffins. All who had died in the Battle of Hogwarts, laid out for their last respects, their final homes gleaming in the sun. "Oh, George..." she trailed off as she gazed up at him and took in his defensive stance, looking as though he was trying to keep the pain away by placing a stone facade over his features. Hermione looked back over to the seemingly never-ending line of caskets and immediately saw Mrs. Weasley sobbing near one of them.

George was without words. The fact that his mother, the Weasley matriarch, the witch who defeated Bellatrix Lestrange was in tears struck a chord within him. He wanted to scream,to yell, that nobody knew Fred like he did. No one would miss him like he did. He should be the one crying, not her. No one should be crying at all a voice whispered inside of his head. Fred should be here. He gulped and struggled to hold back tears, his body shaking with the effort.

Suddenly, he felt a small, warm hand grasping his own, softly calloused palms touching his rough ones. He looked down and watched as Hermione's fingers intertwined with his. He looked up at her face, her jaw set, eyes blazing, and he realized what she was doing. She was creating a united front. She was offering extra strength for him to face everyone with, and like a drowning man, he wildly grasped it.

Hermione looked up at him and he understood. She cared about him. She cared about him enough that when they reached their fellow mourners and heard them mutter about the two of them she did not as much as bat an eyelash. As he threw himself at Fred's closed coffin she did not waver and leave like the others who were afraid of his grief. And as he collapsed from the emotions overwhelming him as Fred's body was lowered into the ground she held him while his body racked in sobs. She just held him. Held him and fed her strength to him like a mother would to her babe. And he drank it.