Ginny sat a white paper bag from the Leaky Cauldron on the counter top, and nudged it towards Ron. "Help yourself... you never know, there might be a marmalade filled one."
She made a move as if she was about to dart to the back room for coffee, but she stopped short when Ron began speaking about George. The two youngest Weasleys had made a habit of visiting their brother frequently as possible. Fred's death had been hard on everyone. The twins were a duo that breathed vitality into any room they stepped into. Ginny knew that George would feel Fred's absence the strongest, and she wasn't sure she quite could gage just how much. The pang that visited her own stomach whenever Fred came to mind was enough; George's pain was almost unimaginable to her.
George's recovery had taken longer than Ginny had expected. You of course never fully healed, but still...
Ginny put her hand on Ron's shoulder, giving it a tiny scratch. "Well, we're doing what we can for him now. What else can we do besides be here?"