— Dad, are you sure you're okay? — bright golden amber eyes looked into mine with concern, and thin fingers clung to my thick fur.
— Yes, baby, I'm feeling much better, and walking in the fresh air is good for your health! — I raised my finger, but immediately smiled and hugged the girl's shoulders, and Kiriko immediately pressed herself against me, but cautiously, even a little suspiciously — after all, she had seen the state I had brought Nanao home in, and so she could not calm down, and she was not the only one. — We, mages, are very harmful creatures, almost like cockroaches, we survive in places where normal people can't even breathe... although yes, cockroaches are cooler... — My serious face and tone made the girl smile, and we were silent for a while, watching the sorceresses and wizards at work in the apple orchard from the bench.
Yes, the work was boiling, as they say, and I sat down to rest. I literally ran away to get some air, but the watchful Kiriko didn't let me go alone, and I thank her for this supervision, because without her I would have fallen to the ground a couple of times. I don't care that one of my legs can't bend and the other one limps badly, that only one of my arms works and the other one is in a cast, and that some of my ribs are broken.
Not to mention the tissue and skin damage: on the outside, I looked like someone had tried to chew me, but didn't really succeed, so they just spit me out on sharp rocks — revenge for inedibility.
In my situation, expressions like "lucky," "fortunate," and the like are best, because, for example, one of my ribs cracked very badly and almost hit my heart, fortunately the splinters didn't reach the heart muscle. Or, in the same vein, when the "Whip" exploded, I was covered in shrapnel, and because of the adrenaline, I didn't pay attention to the damage, but a piece of shrapnel very accurately cut through the skin on my neck, literally a few millimeters from the carotid artery.
And there were many such moments, and even some dangerous ones, but again, fortunately, Baa-san clearly fulfilled her part of the contract (and she couldn't not fulfill it, because the situation was clear), and when she felt that the Shinigami was already dead next to me, she didn't stall for time, and Nanao didn't ask any questions, but just came to the right place and took me home.
At home I have a "golden sorceress" — Afiri, who not only has, but also quite active generic gift "Will of the Dark Gods" — an intuitive understanding of the structure and functioning of humanoid life forms, which was originally used as an ideal tool of executioner, but over time the dead clan came up with the idea to use this gift in the opposite direction — for healing. In short, the girl worked her magic on me for several long hours until she had eliminated all danger, with Kiriko, Momo and Nanao helping as best they could. The others wanted to help, but Afiri refused because of her weak nerves, and Lizzie was hysterical when she saw me bloodied and broken.
The first four days I slept most of the time — it's a technique where you're only woken from your magic sleep for a few procedures or to feed, and then put back to sleep, and a lot of magic on top of that. On the evening of the fifth day, I was brought out of sleep and even allowed to go to the bathroom by myself because I absolutely refused help. I know it's not very smart, but I just can't help it, and the thought of having to do something I've only heard about makes me clench my teeth and feel very uncomfortable, a huge ball of emotion clenching around my neck... no, in the exact opposite place, but it doesn't matter.
Anyway, I just can't, period. Afiri tried to argue, Lizzie insisted, I was even threatened, but as long as the cat is sick, it's better to keep the mice quiet, because when he gets better, he'll ask about every loud sneeze. We agreed that they would walk me to the door, and then I'd go on my own. The short walk consumed all my strength, and my magic was in bad shape, so I couldn't use simple strengthening and strengthening, but I couldn't think — it was hot and stuffy, and I passed out very quickly.
It took me two days to come to my senses, or rather two days to come to my senses completely, but before that I had a fever and delirium that even the Afiri didn't understand, and all they could do was support me with potions and help my body with magic — to bring the fever down, to clean my skin, to keep me from rolling around in bed so as not to disturb my wounds.
When the fever was over, I felt like I'd had the flu — the same exhaustion and weakness all over my body, an empty head with no thoughts, and hungry as a wolf. Even Nanao, who had taken the oath to be the guardian of the Hoshino family, had to prove her position to the British magicians several times.
Actually, I found out later, but during my crisis, I'd been "rescued" four times, and the last time, I'd had a pretty impressive team, but Lizzie and Lupin had stepped in just in time. The incident at the tournament finals had caused quite a commotion and everyone was running around, including the foreigners, so Lupin and Lizzie had managed to pull Pierre Delacour and then Amelia Bones out of the chaos and put on quite a show before entering my compound.
While all of Megan's fighters were preparing to fight in my territory, and the Chinese of the Lan Clan were "admiring nature" next to them, and four dozen veteran fighters of the British Aurorat alone were gathered on the other side of the fence, and groups of Bulgarians and Frenchmen were trampling the young grass a little further away, Pierre and Amelia came on stage.
The first thing they did was to silence the particularly noisy Crouch Sr., who had somehow suspiciously quickly sided with the now beardless Dumbdore, who was Albus. Then they took turns giving speeches, especially to the reporters present, about the importance of dialogue and the ability to listen to each other, especially in times of crisis. Then the defenders of my house were addressed in public, and an alternative course of action was proposed to check whether I, so poor, stupid and weak, had really been taken prisoner by foreign-foreign terrorists-monsters-occultists-perverts — there were many versions by this point. And then Pierre, Amelia, accompanied by the head doctor of St. Mungo, quietly went to my house, looked at the unconscious me from the authorized distance (they were not allowed closer to Nanao, who literally growled at Amelia and the head doctor Smetvik), took their time, drank tea, and went home.
Of course, such an "important" person as Dumbledore publicly expressed doubt that the three of them, especially since only one of them was a woman, would have been able to defend themselves in the event of a real threat. They could have been lured into a trap and then subdued, Imperius imposed, or something worse. Barty Crouch Sr., a veteran of the war with the Unnamed One who certainly knew a lot about dirty tricks and stratagems, shared the "good" director's doubts.
In general, the authorities seemed to have no reason to storm my house, but that didn't stop everyone from making a lot of noise and fuss, generously sharing their "concerns" and "suspicions" about the fate of the British champion with various publications.