The next morning, everyone slept in, except for Mrs. Weasley, who of course made enough breakfast to feed a small army. As the hours of the day went by, the residents of the Burrow slowly slipped into a mild depression. No one knew what to do from here, it was as if everyone was lost, but no one was as lost as poor George, who sat locked up in his room and refused to come out.

At sunset, when everyone was seemingly in their own rooms, George snuck down for a glass of water, dehydration from all the water that had leaked from his eyes. Downing the glass quickly and turned to go up the stairs, were his eyes landed on Percy, who was silently staring at him, as though wanting to say something.

Percy sat down on the stairs, looking defeated. Surprisingly, George sat beside him, the silence was tangible, but not at all awkward, more comforting.

"I'm sorry," sighed Percy.

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? It's my fault he's dead!"

"Percy?" George said, Percy turned his head towards him, not looking him in the eye.

"What?"

"Shut up,"

"But it is! If I hadn't made that joke, he would've had time to defend himself!" Percy insisted.

"He knew the risks," George replied simply, "he wasn't an idiot."

A moment of silence past, and it was a little awkward, but they were both physically and emotionally drained, and enough was enough.

"Go to sleep," George said sternly. Percy was surprised; he doubted George was ever stern in his life.

"I'll go if you do the same, you look horrible," Percy said seriously.

George smiled weakly, then helped Percy up and went to bed.

…

Ginny didn't cry, she lay in bed silently as Harry stroked her hair. She had cried more than she ever had in her life, and she was sick of the tears.

"Will it ever stop hurting?" Ginny asked desperately.

No matter how much he wanted to lie, he couldn't.

"No," He said sadly.

Ginny nodded her head and buried her face in his shirt.

"Thank you," Ginny replied, and before Harry could answer, she fell asleep on his chest.

It was nearly a week later, when the healing finally started. When the sun rose, it turned out to be a very beautiful day. Everyone was in a much better mood. Mrs. Weasley hummed to herself softly as she prepared breakfast…at 4 o'clock in the morning. As though having a sixth sense of what time to cook, a considerable amount of Weasleys had shown up for breakfast around this time. The last two down were George and Percy.

As everyone enjoyed there breakfast, some tried to make normal conversation, and failed pathetically. But the activity in the room was much less forced and awkward than before

When Hermione and Ginny started cleaning up the table, Mrs. Weasley turned towards the boys.

"I need you lot to de-gnome the yard," she said.

They all groaned tiredly, all making up excuses.

"My back kills Mum."

"It's not that bad."

"I need to talk to Dad."

"I have homework to do—"

"ENOUGH!" Mrs. Weasley barked, "You will go de-gnome the garden RIGHT NOW!"

"Alright, Alright don't get your knickers in a twist," grumbled George, surprising everyone. He hadn't made a remark like that in a long time.

In the end of the day, everyone's heart seemed a little lighter, and things were slowly going back to normal. It seemed like it would be an eternity before anyone could be called happy, but after a war, people learn to value all they have, and take what you can get.