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Death, Tears, And Bear Bottles

Fred had died. George didn't know what to do. It broke him. It tore him apart.

George had shut everyone out. He kept them out of his life. It was hard to look at their faces.

He knew he looked like crap. He just knew. But, George couldn't bear to look in the mirror. Last time he did, he broke down into sobs, shaking.

It had been two months since the war. Since Fred had died. Yet, George stayed shut up in his room, the vision of that wall collapsing on loop in his mind.

George had tried to drown his sorrows. He tried to drown them in any alcoholic fluid he could get his scared hand on. He cut himself too. A bloodstained knife resided on his nightstand. Waiting for him. He just grew weaker and weaker.

Everyone was worried about him. Everyone had tried to talk to him, but always failed.

One day, Hermione decided enough was enough. She clambered off the bed she sat on in the room she currently shared with Ginny.

"Where are you going?", Ginny questioned at her friend's sudden movements. Her eyes darted from the book that lay thrown on the floor to her friend who was marching out the door.

"Making things right", she huffed and walked swiftly out the doorway. Hermione marched on up to George's room, contemplated for a moment, than pushed open the door.

She thought she would be prepared for what waited for her behind that door. Boy was she wrong.

Thanks for reading! This is my first FanFiction, so tell me what you think.