She howled with rage again, slamming her bloody fists into the stone. Her parents were dead, of that she was sure. And the other Defender's hadn't done a thing. They'd locked her into the room, with only the tiniest of slits for air. No spells worked in here, and no one had come for hours.
Punching the wall hadn't worked, and death spells only left scorch marks on her hands. She was about to slam the iron door again when it slid open. Peter, his face somber, caught her hands. He came in the door shutting behind him. "We got them that done it."
He looked down at her hands, the skin torn and bleeding. Blood trailed down her wrists, and smeared across his hands. "You're hurt."
Chris looked down. "Why was I locked in here?" He hugged her, chin on top of her head. "Sometimes, Defenders can lose control, where revenge is involved. Dad didn't know what you may or may not do, so you were brought here. Are you alright?"
She started to nod, but tears leaked out of her eyes. "Rats, I didn't wanna cry." She swiped her eyes. "They're gone." It wasn't a question. He nodded. She leaned back into his grip. "Please, just hug me." He was silent for a minute, then spoke. "Dad sent me. Said you'd need a friend." She scrubbed her eyes again. "Yeah. I need it." She hung on for a few more minutes, until her tears dried. "What's gonna happen to me?" Peter held her tighter. "The Defender's will always take care of you. Your parent's will gives almost everything to you. They wanted their books collection to go to the library. Felt you'd like that." She nodded into his shoulder. "Everything else is yours." He turned to guide her out, and she readjusted, till their arms hung over each other's shoulders.
The manor was mostly empty and those they passed just brushed against her shoulders. Lately they'd all been hurting, but all had the same mindset. Sadness was for a time, but their job came first. Words didn't come easy of recent, and everyone understood what they couldn't say. So many Defenders had died so quickly that the shock was only just beginning to set in for many.
Peter left her at the doors to her parent's room. She walked in, breathing in the scent of leather and perfume that were the combined scent of her father and mother. Her mother's red dress was laid out on the bed. She sat down next to it, running a clean fingertip over the silk.
Her mother had been a beauty. She took pride in how she maintained her good looks without magic, and was proud that her family should protect the Minister. Some said Chris had inherited her looks, but Chris always knew her mother was so much more beautiful. Tracy had gotten most of the great looks in the family. She had died a few months ago, along with Johnny and Felix. Tonight was their anniversary. They were supposed to go out to eat someplace in Paris.
She pulled her father's journal from under his pillow. He had written in it every night, without fail, no matter where he was. He had been so kind. All of his children felt his love. He had loved mother so much. They had loved each other. She sat in silence, feeling the loneliness that strectched toward forever. She was the last, the last of the Fornus'.
She came out her memories with a snap, realizing that everyone else was staring at her. "Did you hear us?" Teddy asked. She shook her head. "Are you gonna try out for Quidditch?" She shook her head. "No, definitely not. I wouldn't have time." She looked down and noticed she was rubbing her hands. The palms and sides of her hand still bore white scars from where she had hit the walls. She looked out the window, and saw lights in the distance. "We're almost there." She got up, grabbing the robes she wore over her uniform. "I'll go change." She pulled the robes over her clothes and waited while the boys changed.