Chapter Forty

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I don't really remember what happened after that.

I vaguely recall the Hollands arriving to pick me up, but my memories seemed to skip over multiple hours at a time.

The next thing I knew, I was lying in the guest bedroom at the Holland's, staring up at the ceiling as I listened to the hushed voices on the other side of the closed door;

"...no one knows where he is. Even with the Ministry searching, it could be weeks before anyone finds him, especially with all the problems involving You-Know-Who —"

Mr. Holland was interrupted by Mrs. Holland's frantic whisper, "But he would have returned for Brianna by now, wouldn't he?"

"We don't know that for sure. We weren't there when... well, when everything happened...."

"Jake, we don't even know if he's still —"

"I know, but we have to have hope."

There was a long silence.

"What are we going to do?" Mrs. Holland asked her husband, and it sounded like she was crying.

"I don't know, Emily," Mr. Holland replied quietly. "I don't know."

They fell silent, and I didn't remember anything after that, so that must have been when I fell asleep.

Time wore on, and every day that passed felt like hell.

No one knew where Dad was, and I refused to think about the fact that I'd never see Mum again. I hadn't even given myself time to grieve — I spent the following days distracting myself in any way I could.

I woke up Saturday morning, one week after... well, after everything, and I slumped into the kitchen for breakfast, surprised to find everyone already gathered around the table.

"Brianna, we have to talk," Mrs. Holland said, stepping forward and putting a warm arm around my shoulder.

I met Mirah's eyes to see her face was tear-streaked, and my heart stopped.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head.

"Brianna —" Mirah started, stepping forward, but I took a step back.

"No, he's not —" I practically choked on the words, turning to look hopefully at Mr. Holland. "Is he?" I added, reading his pained expression.

Mr. Holland clenched his jaw, nodding. He held up a letter signed by the Ministry. "They found him this morning, not far from London."

"London? Why was he —"

"We expect," Mrs. Holland started tentatively, "he was leading the Death Eaters away from you."

Suddenly, I remembered words written by my parents, words I'd read a week ago from today....

Everything we did was to protect you.

I stumbled back, excusing myself from the kitchen before sprinting to the bathroom.

I hurled into the toilet, collapsing to the floor and gasping for breath as I felt my body shake violently. I sobbed into my hands, trying to stay quiet, but soon there was pounding on the door, followed by frantic shouting.

I couldn't move; I couldn't think; I could hardly breathe. There was nothing but pain, and it was everywhere.

I screamed into my hands, my throat feeling horribly raw. I wished I could die... that way I wouldn't feel this pain....

I was barely aware as someone burst into the bathroom, breaking through the locked door, and then crouched beside me, wrapping me up in their arms.

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