Ernie was right that it would take him less than forty five minutes to figure out whether either Dean or Mrs. Finnegan made it to St. Mungo's that evening. It took him another thirty minutes to finish the paperwork for a report for Dean as he was fairly sure that something was wrong.
And the rest of the time he sat at the main lobby of the hospital running his hands over his eyes and then through his hair, and then back again. Despite all of that sleep for the past couple of days (he had spent most of that day sleeping after recovering from the 'nightmare' and cleaning up his spare room at the Finch-Fletchley's) he still felt and looked exhausted. But he was at least somewhat functional now. And at least he was still alive.
Ernie looked up each time he heard the door open, and spent what seemed like an endless amount of time pondering what would be said. Or if there's any good way of putting it.
For a moment he thought he had figured that out, when he looked up again and noticed Seamus walking into St. Mungo's he promptly forgot what he was going to say. It was probably the look on Ernie's face that spoke more, sooner, and louder than he did. "Seamus. I'm so sorry--your mum--they've found her. They'll need you--someone to identify her. They haven't found Dean. I've put in a report and they should be on the case right now. I'm so sorry."