Hugo grinned weakly at his dad. He was lying on his stomach, because his back was still a mess of bites and scars. The Healers could only do so much for werewolf bites, and Hugo's were pretty bad. He'd been told he was lucky to be alive, and be believed them.
"Like someone tried to make me dinner," he said, wondering if his father was going to shout at him, or ground him. He knew his parents were probably upset, but he didn't regret anything. He'd done what he needed to do, and done it well until the werewolf got him.
"How's Mum? Running the government?" It was said with pride, and even though he really wished she was here, he knew she was doing her job and doing it well, and making sure everyone else was doing theirs too.