Merely Misunderstood

Chapter Sixty-Three

"Huh?" was the first thing I said.

Then, just seconds later, "Really?"

And then, before anyone got the chance to say anything else, I exclaimed, "Are you serious?!"

"Completely."

"Entirely."

Mr. and Mrs. Holland spoke at the same time, but both of their answers meant the same thing.

"It's actually mandatory to attend this year, and you'll have a new Headmaster, but I expect it should be the same as always...." But I wasn't paying much attention to what Mrs. Holland was saying. All I knew was that I was going back to Hogwarts.

I looked over and caught Mirah's eye, and I was relieved to see her grinning; she was excited about going, too.

"Letters should be arriving today, unless the post is late again. But once they come, we can leave to Diagon Alley for your supplies," Mrs. Holland told us.

"Great! C'mon, Brianna, let's go get ready!" Mirah pushed away from the table, jumping up eagerly.

"Oh, no, not you," Mrs. Holland said, a slight frown on her face.

I paused in getting out of my chair.

"Not us? What do you mean?" Mirah asked, hesitating at the kitchen doorway.

"You think we'd take you two to Diagon Alley?" Mr. Holland gave us a  scolding look. "That's hilarious."

"Why n—"

"It's not safe, Mirah," Mrs. Holland chided wearily, sounding as though this was a conversation they'd had before. "You know what's going on out there! We can't risk putting you two in danger."

"But that means you'll be in danger!" Mirah argued. "I can't just wait here for you when you might never come back!"

"You can, and you will," Mr. Holland commanded.

"But if there are more of us, then maybe —"

"This isn't up for debate, Mirah!" Mrs. Holland shouted, and Mirah fell silent. It was unusual for her mother to shout the way she just had.

I looked between Mirah and her parents nervously, and after a long silence, Mirah sighed heavily, hanging her head.

"Be careful," she said, but her tone made it sound as though she was begging.

"Of course," Mr. Holland replied, and it sounded like a promise.

Mirah hesitated for a moment before turning and leaving the kitchen. I followed her uneasily, hiking up the stairs after her and trailing into her room.

She flopped onto the bed, saying, "They'll be fine. It's only shopping; nothing bad would happen doing something as mundane as that."

I didn't say anything in response — it sounded more like she was reassuring herself, anyway.

Sitting on the floor beside her bed, I occupied myself by picking at the frayed rug beneath me. At some point, Mr. and Mrs. Holland shouted that they were off, and that they were locking the door behind them — although Mirah and I agreed that wouldn't do much.

Time passed slowly while Mirah's parents were out. She didn't seem to want to do anything but sit around and worry, and I suppose I didn't blame her.

I sat in my spot on the floor, staring in the direction of the window blankly. I was trying desperately to keep my mind from wandering to Draco, and whether he was going back to Hogwarts. Mrs. Holland had said it was mandatory to attend this year, but what if that didn't apply to him? He's a Death Eater, after all....