She gave both brief hugs and turned to Peter. He looked peaceful, even normal. The only thing that seemed slightly amiss was the way he gripped a handful of sheets and the tightness around his face. Peter has always been a very mellow person, even in dangerous situations. She sat down next to him, prying the hand off the sheets and gripping it. "What's the most recent update?" she asked. Tim slid a clipboard out from underneath the mattress.
"Feeding him sustaining potions twice a day and an antidote to ward off any poisons or diseases from the wildebeest. We check everything that the nurses give him. We never leave him alone and we take shifts all night. The Minister has had no threat mail and no attacks at the safehouse, but his office has received them periodically."
She looked up at them, noting the bags under their eyes. "Go home to base, get some rest. I'll take a couple hours." Both left, leaving her with Peter. She gently moved him over to one side of the hospital bed and climbed onto the other side. She laid there for what felt like hours, listening to the silence and telling Peter everything that had happened.
This was not awkward. They had been as close as they could have been without being in love. After they had lost everyone else, they started having nightmares. And always, one went to the other. It was okay to be small and feel insignificant when you're alone, because when you wake up in the morning you have to be tough and rough. Nothing happened, and nothing every would. Her mother had always warned her that she would have unnatural reactions to some things, and these must be ignored if harmful. Not that they hadn't run it pretty close a few times.
One of the foremost rules of the Defenders was that you never married or slept with another Defender. It kept the genes clear. If they started interbreeding, they would gradually get smaller until there weren't enough of them. The punishment was being forced to leave the Defender clan and have your memory wiped, with false ones implanted that kept you somewhere in the Wizarding world.
It was almost midnight before she chose to leave. Jeff came to relieve her and she headed back home.
The base was home. Really, it was a fairly large property on the coast. The house was large, but very plain. No one but the Defenders had lived there for hundreds of years. The grounds were large and wild, kept only for training on. Other than that, the creatures and plant life were allowed to run amok outside the house. The families had their own private houses away from base, but with time and the troubles, they'd been left behind and everyone moved to base. And now there were 5 teenagers, and two house elves in the great mansion. She Apparted to the edge of the property and walked in, enjoying the dark night to think all of her thoughts.
The grounds had so many memories. Under those trees, the 16 Defenders she'd grown up with had learned martial arts from one person or another. Her favorite running path that wound along the top of the cliffs. The cemetery, where every Defender was buried. Her parents where back there, along with all 5 of her brothers and her 2 sisters. She would visit them in the morning.
She unlocked the door, stepping inside the warm hall. Its smooth tiles let no noise off as she headed to the stairs. A house-elf came out of a side door.
"Mistress Christina! You have come back?"She paused at the foot of the stairs. "Yes. Please serve breakfast at 0630 tomorrow. Have a good night Molly."
The house-elf's voice was timid. "Mistress? How fares the Master?"She stopped, this time at the top of the stairs. "He is a little better. He is alive."
Molly's voice quavered. "I am glad."
"Good night Molly."
She sat down on her bed, pulling out her scrapbook. It contained wizard photos of her family who beamed up at her from the worn pages. But one of her favorites was tucked into the front flap. Just a muggle photo, of the last good day there'd ever been…