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Chapter Text

Harry James Potter is twenty eight when the world ends.

Auror training had been a dream of his from a more innocent time, before his 7th year at Hogwarts, before his death put a little bit more into perspective for him. After the War everyone looked to him to be the warrior he had become, a leader to bring peace and make sure the evil of the world stayed in the shadows. Harry had applied for Auror Training, and had been accepted after his deeds at The Battle of Hogwarts, finally getting his own dream fulfilled.
It was only 4 short months to complete the training, most of it regulations and classes revamped by veterans of the Second War. Graduating at the top of his class, with Ron right behind him, Harry started his new job as an Auror.
It took less then a month for him to quit.

Harry spent most of his childhood under the cruel thumb of his uncle and the rest under the watchful eye of Albus Dumbledore and, later, Voldemort. He spent his life, unknowingly since the death of his parents, preparing for the moment to defeat Voldemort. Harry had done so at the cost of his own innocence. The wizarding world was free to grow into this new golden age, to explore new paths and break from the mould that started the decay of the magical society. Harry had been groomed since his was 11 to be a martyr, to fight for the people and give his life for them. Being an Auror would be all of that, day to day in various degrees of danger, dependent on the populace for support and funding.

Harry had wasted too much time on what everyone else wanted from him, to please others over his own wants and ideas. This time, he would do what was best for Harry. If this meant giving up on the dream of being an Auror, a dream spawned from indecision, grief, and suggestion from the teachers around him, then Harry would gladly do so.

Which is how Harry Potter went from the most promising new Auror Recruit, to the newest Healer Intern at St. Mungo’s.

Ginny Weasley, his at the time girlfriend, was not impressed when he dropped out of Law Enforcement and switched to Interning at St. Mungo's. The even longer hours at the hospital were the cause of many arguments, as well as the lack of ‘time and effort’ he put into his personal time with Ginny. Harry tried explaining time and again that he was finally happy, finally doing something he loved instead of something he felt obligated to do. The hours he put into the Internship would be worth it. The income wasn’t a problem, His family fortune more then covered any living expenses while he was student, and Harry couldn’t understand why Ginny was so against his decision.

The fiery redhead told him to come crawling back once he figured it out, and walked out of his apartment. Harry hadn’t seen Ginny Weasley since. Nor any of the Weasley’s. Hermione eventually came around, while Ron was at work and carrying a small newborn, to explain.

Apparently, according to the Weasley’s, Harry had abandoned Ron at work and ignored Ginny’s desires at home. He would be allowed back once he had apologized and sorted out his ‘priorities’. Having the Weasley’s turning their backs on him so easily had hurt fiercely but Harry was hopeful they would come around. Taking the time to learn to Heal people, to fix the damage caused by evil or accidents, appealed to Harry more then hunting down dark wizards. More then catching petty criminals. Harry always did have a saving people thing, and how could he save people more then healing them? Hopefully once he was full Medi-wizard Ginny could see just why Harry pulled the long clinic hours, poured over books and class notes at home, and spent most of his time trying to fast track through the muggle medicine courses. It would take years, much longer then the Auror Training, but it would be worth it.

With Ginny gone, Harry found himself spending more time with Teddy. Andromeda was grateful for the help, taking any opportunity for Harry to babysit and taking a well needed break. Seeing the sweet babe grow into a rambunctious toddler was one of the things keeping him going. Being able to heal a scraped knee and sooth a flu was one the best motivators to finish his internship. When the news of a new mysterious illness started to spread, Harry found himself unable to visit and spending most of his time at work. He missed his smiling godson but he was perfectly safe his Grandmother.

On clinic shift at St. Mungo's is where Harry first saw the results of the end of the world. Fatalities were rare with Magical Medicine, but they did happen. A splinch cutting a heart in half here, an Avada Kedavra there, but magical deaths were nothing compared to the muggle population. Which was why when a man died of liver failure do to a bad splinch no one was expecting him to rise from the surgery gurney and attack the intern putting the tools away. The bite to the forearm was wrapped and the girl sent home to rest while the patient was bound to the gurney, teeth snapping at the attending Medi-wizards.

The first couple were treated like they were sick, isolated and re-evaluated. Perhaps they'd missed something the first time, diagnostic spells done wrong or some sort of magical bacteria taking root, for this seemingly dead person to reawaken. After a while, when even an Avada Kedavra victim rose from morgue, St. Mungo's treated them like inferi. Scorched Earth Policy. Every body was immediately bound then incinerated at the crematorium.

At first, this seemed to stop the rising dead at the hospital. Then the reports from the rest of the world came in. This wasn't just an isolated incident at St. Mungo's. It wasn't even just isolated in the United Kingdom. Everywhere, anywhere, in the world, The Dead Rose. Muggles were already becoming overwhelmed, entire hospitals and buildings over run with the walking bodies. How do you combat the fact that dying no longer meant the same thing?

The first priority of St. Mungo's was a cure, allowing only the worst of cases into the building. Capturing an infected individual was easy enough. Man power was put exclusively towards research while Interns and newer staff picked up the slack of patients. Harry had never worked such long hours and handled so any desperate and sick people before. Not even his double shifts from his first year interning could complete with the sheer chaos and desperation in each person allowed entry into the emergency ward. Bite wounds became a death sentence and his heart grew heavier and heavier the more he saw come in. People knew it was hopeless, no one had survived a bite or scratch yet, but desperation and pain drove them.

Harry's heart broke even more when Ron and Hermione came in, the former covered in blood and cradling an arm, the latter seeking him out with desperate and hopeful eyes. “Harry! Thank Merlin, they were going to turn us away. We had to drop your name to be allowed in.” It was a bite wound, slowly dripping blood and already creeping black lines along the flesh bordering it. Any and all Aurors had been called in to disrupt riots and try to instill order on the panicking population. This made it easy for the infected to hide in a crowd, for the condition to spread. Who could tell a screaming, panicking injured civilian from a moaning infected moving the same direction?

Hermione had children at home, a toddler and a young child, undefended except for Molly Weasley. “Hermione. How long ago did this happen? Where?” Harry guided his first friends to an examination room, claiming it in the chaos. No one argued, more focused on their own crisis. “We came as fast as we could once Ron was able to floo home. Diagon Alley... It’s been over run, Harry.” Harry gently helped Ron lay on the examination table, removing the sleeve of the jacket and exposing the wound. It was too far gone. He could see the inky lines creeping up the arm, tainted blood flowing through the body. Amputation wouldn’t work. Ron had only hours to live. “It’ll be alright, Hermione. I’ll take care of Ron, you should gather the Weasley’s and head for Hogwarts. It’s being set up as a safe zone. I will contact you there once he’s stable, ok?” Harry looked at his friends, Ron delirious on the table from fever and Hermione looking at him with desperate hope. “You can fix him, Harry? You’ll make him better?” Hermione looked at him, eyes full of tears, hope mixed with denial. She knew, intellectually she knew that Ron was done for, but she couldn’t accept it.

Harry smiled reassuringly, placing his hand on Hermione’s shoulder and squeezing softly. “I’ll help him. I promise ‘Mione.” The strong women sniffled, straightened up and nodded. “Alright. I’ll collect the kids and Molly, head for Hogwarts like we planned. You’ll meet us there, right?” Planning was helping Hermione focus, so Harry nodded and agreed. “You bet, ‘Mione. As soon as I can. Let me show you to the floo. I’ll be right back, Ron, to get that wound handled.” The delirious redhead nodded woozily, eyes cloudy with fever. Harry made sure Hermione was okay to Floo then made sure she left himself. She didn’t need to see what must be done. Returning to the examination room, Harry looked over this first friend, seeing the pain and fear in those cloudy blue eyes.

“Everything will be okay now, Ron. I’ve got you.” Harry made his friend comfortable, easing his pain with a sleep potion and making sure Ron was unconscious. Then, by order from the Ministry and Auror Corps, he killed the first friend he ever made. He looked at the still body, trying to make sense of what the world was now and failed. Harry took a few minutes to let the tears fall before composing himself and doing his job. Ron’s body was burning before it could grow cold. This disease, this horror, was too wide spread to wait for people to find a way to reverse it. It wouldn't be long before even the most fortified places were over run. By the end of the day Diagon Alley was over run by walking corpses, the only safe place being the locked in Gringotts. No anti-muggle ward could keep the dead of London out, for they no longer saw with their eyes. They hunted by sound, by smell, and they were coming for the living. Magicals were no exception.

Many fled to Hogwarts, with its stone walls and rough terrain, as many could live without even touching an infected inside. Magical Britain was doomed to die out, the very few left hiding behind Fidelius without any means to replenish real food or water.
Harry never made it to Hogwarts. St. Mungo's did not last long enough to find a solution to the dead. It was too open, too vulnerable to attack with large windows and many entrances. The building was meant to be a hospital, not a fortress. harry knew a bit about muggle technology, about radio, cellphone, and communication methods. Safe zones were being set up by the muggle military outside of large population zones. Rumours were spreading about who had a cure, or even just a possible vaccine, the name European Center for Disease Control was said many times. Many had flocked to the area in Sweden, hoping for sanctuary or a cure.

Harry had high hopes for a cure, needed a cure for his remaining friends and family, and needed to do... anything to help. Apparation would have been useful to use, if some magical’s hadn’t appeared in a supposed safe room and instead found it filled with the Dead. So, moving by borrowed hospital broomstick, Harry’s first stop after St Mungo’s fell to the dead was his apartment. This apartment he used to live in with Ginny and he arrived only to find it broken into and ransacked. Thankfully his secret stash, a habit kept from the war, was untouched. It left him with only a bottomless bag and the supplies inside, which included his Firebolt II, plenty of medical supplies, his invisibility cloak, photo album, and enough food for a few days.
His next stop was 12 Grimmauld Place, which he had cleaned up and gifted to Andromeda and Teddy. Apparating inside, thankfully the building was still under the Fidelius, Harry found the house deserted. A note was in the empty kitchen explaining that Andromeda had taken Teddy to Hogwarts, which had more supplies and was well prepared for the crisis. They would return to this house if something were to happen to Hogwarts.

Thankful that his remaining family was safe Harry started gathering anything that could be a useful. Harry grabbed his old Auror kit, gifted to Teddy as encouragement to his dream to grow up to be like his Mother, the heavy duty leather armor and dragon hide cloak would protect from the biting jaws of the Dead. Left over cookware, spices, cutlery and as many bottles or containers filled with water he could make were added to his bag. There wasn’t much food left but Harry scrounged for anything edible, knowing food would be scarce, and ending up with a few cans and fresh food left in the fridge.

A quick look around the house gained Harry some well needed toiletries, especially toilet paper, and clothing. Even if Teddy’s too small clothing or Andromeda’s dresses were never worn, they could make bandages in a pinch. Now ready, Harry bundles up under the invisibility cloak and mounts his broom, unsure if the ECDC had any answers or if it would just lead to disappointment. His family.. His Friends.. He could only help them by finding a way to end this crisis, by cure or by some way to eliminate the dead. Hermione was a tough fighter, as well as all of his friends, they could protect Hogwarts until Harry returned with a solution to the crisis.
However, after days of travel, it turned out that the ECDC was a bust.

Even if the facility some how was still salvageable, the power had been cut off and the area was swarming with the Dead. Once the power had failed the entire building seemed to have been set aflame, only a black husk remaining. The Military hadn't held out for long after that, it seemed, by the sheer amount of Dead overwhelming the area and the people left in the aftermath who had flocked to the beacon of hope. Only the fact that Harry was atop a flying broomstick saved him from the carnage below.
Harry knew of another CDC that was rumored to still be operational, the one in The United States of America, but it would take a miracle to get there. Flying would take too long. Even if he could make it across on his broomstick, one oceanic storm and he'd be fish food. His only way there would have to be by boat. Finding one would be the hard part.

Surprisingly it didn't take as long as Harry thought it would. Many more people had the same idea as him, plus the coast was covered with military craft, and after spying on the ships Harry found one without any infected on it. Fly to the ship made it easy to slip on board in the chaos and, after proving his worth by healing some people with potions played off as medicine, he easily gained passage across the Atlantic.
It took longer then Harry anticipated to get to USA, there as some debate on what their destination should be and how long they should gather supplies before setting off, but eventually Harry convinced them to get as close to the Georgia coastline as they were comfortable with and let him off. He'd spun a story of finding his family in Atlanta, needing a ride across the ocean. Radio was already down, as well as cell reception, so no one could confirm his story. The ship was reluctant to let their 'Doctor' go but most understood his need as many were foreign and trying to get back to their home countries.

Harry ended up in a place called Port Royal. He wasn't entirely up to speed on the map of USA, having tried to memorize the one he’d found on the ship but without any reference it would be touch and go, and was relying heavily on the point me spell. Thankfully resources were still plentiful if someone knew where to look. The broomstick he carried with him was a godsend as Harry landed on the roof of buildings that looked relatively clear, looted the top floor, then moved on. Some buildings held the Dead but for the most part he was in and out before they realized he was there.

A quick point me spell and he was off flying over the country side. Harry found it easier keeping on track to follow road signs. Lone cars stranded on the side of the road became pit stops that kept him safe while he ate and gained a break from flying. Some had supplies in them, hunting knife and some bullets was found in a truck, adding to his bag of already stockpiled supplies. So far Harry had very little contact with the Dead, using avoidance and care was easier then a head to head confrontation that risked injury.
Following a road labelled 278 lead him to a city called Augusta. Deserted vehicles on the multi-lane roads increased the closer he got, as well as the number of the infected. There was some high rising buildings in the distance, Harry currently flying over a residential zone. There were some very beautiful mansions and homes in the area, the ones that were left. Some seemed of have burned down, others used as shelters and had been over run, and a few were just neglected over time long before now.
Harry found a place to stay for the night, not wanting to travel in the dark with no street lights or cars to light the way, as the concrete turned into black veins hidden in dark forest which was impossible to follow from the air with any confidence. Settling into a bedroom that looked like it used to belong to a little girl, Harry set up trap lines and settled into a blanket nest for a warmish night. After scavenging more supplies from the surrounding houses in the morning, keeping away from the crowded city high rises, Harry continued his journey west.

Route 20 out of Augusta lead towards the direction his wand showed him. The multi-lane highway was littered with cars and a few walking dead. Many trucks were locked food trailers, which Harry quickly looted when he could, and many others offered sanctuary from the dead for a moment. A trailer carrying cars for some sort of dealership offered a dry place to stay when the rain started. It was boxed in between two other trucks, safe from tipping over in the wind and high up from the dead unaffected by the rain.

The trip brought him closer and closer to the city of Atlanta. Already he could see the city had fallen as well, with the abandoned cars fleeing the city, despite the signs along the way stating that it was being turned into a safe zone. An end to end build up of vehicles were stalled moving away from the city while the road going in was clear, a clear remnant of the sheer chaos and panic of the early days of the infection. Harry didn't dare land anywhere, safe from prying eyes beneath his invisibility cloak, hovering over the suspiciously quiet dead city. A point me spell directed him north, moving closer to the tall buildings in the center of the city.
Flying over the high rise buildings Harry kept a close eye for any clear buildings he may be able to loot, unsure of the situation and how much he would need at the CDC, when he spotted a curious sight. There were a group of bodies on a roof of a department store, which wasn’t unusual, but they weren't moving like the dead. Hovering closer, remaining quiet, he saw that they were using tools and binoculars. One of them was hand cuffed to a pipe system in the center of the roof, leaning back against the metal and snarking at the others.

They were alive, the first living people he'd seen since leaving the ship. It gave him a small hope that maybe, just maybe, there would be people left when he finally found a way to stop the living dead. All of his hopes rested on a Building to the North. There was no time to waste.

Chapter Text

Harry’s curiosity was piqued as he took a closer look at the group on the roof. These were the first living people he had seen since arriving in America and he couldn’t help but wonder how they had survived in the city for so long. Two men and woman were watching the horde of Dead below, which some of them were pounding on the buildings front glass doors, and another man was handcuffed to the piping system in the middle of the roof. He looked a little beaten up and, hearing the slurs and insults the man was spouting, Harry couldn’t really deny the man might have deserved it.

It was raining lightly, only enough to wet everything down and washing off dust and blood. The walkers stirred, converging together on two others. They seemed to panic, attacking the Dead around them and climbing a fence to escape, revealing the blood covered men to be alive. What a curious discovery! Harry watched as they get into a large box van and drive off, leaving the group on the roof trapped by the horde of the dead. It seemed that the sense of smell could be tricked somehow, making traversing the dead a little safer. Harry needed to remember that for the future, in case he ever found himself in this kind of situation.

Indecision gripped Harry while he pondered what to do. The CDC wouldn't be available forever and every minute counted. On the other hand these people needed his help right now, trapped and low on supplies. Human life was more precious then ever now, every body counted against the looming horde of the dead. Nodding to himself underneath the cloak Harry descends on his broom and hovers just out of reach of the Dead. Some reached up, able to smell him, grasping weakly in confusion. Now in range and out of sight of the roof group, Harry drew his wand and reinforced the glass doors with a bright blue spell. It wouldn't keep them out forever but it would buy the group time.

That done Harry returned to roof level to see the group hastily packing up. A loud siren could be heard ringing in the distance, drawing some of the Dead on the edges of the horde away. The group seemed to be heading to the clearing back doors, the huge pull up ones for deliveries. One by one they left the hand cuffed man on the roof, who was shouting after them not to leave him. It would be a death sentence to be left behind. One man seemed to pause, who was holding the key to the cuffs, unsure of what to do. Harry made the decision for him. With a quick unlocking spell from behind the cuffed man the cuff attached to the pipes snapped open.

The handcuffed man seemed surprised at first, but was quick to get up and race after the other man down the stairs. A spilled bag of tools was left behind in the mad dash to safety. Harry watches as a sports car blaring its alarm speeds past, luring the Dead away, and the box van returns to pick up the group. Everyone is able to escape, even the cuffed man, while the glass doors hold.

The box van is quick to leave, heading to the outskirts of the city where a hilly area is a natural barrier to the Dead. Harry could faintly see the shadows of some tents and a camper from this height. A make shift campground up high from the dead. The group was obviously muggles, survivors from this city probably, or possibly roamers from another place looking for the safe zone promised here. The spilled tools, and a bag of weapons Harry could see on the road where the Dead had thinned, were of most interest now that the people were safe. It was easy to summon to bag of weapons to him and settle on the roof that had just been abandoned. With the car alarm distracting the horde the Dead had given up beating on the doors. It would be safe for now.

Gathering up the abandoned tools Harry packs away some basics in his own pack. The tool bag had doubles, such as screwdrivers and hammers, and Harry felt better knowing they'd have the tool as well. The bag of weapons held a lot of firearms that Harry had never seen before or knew how to use. At most Harry knew how to load and fire a basic hand gun. Selecting a smaller hand gun with bullets that fit it he left the rest untouched. There would be no point stocking up on weapons he didn’t know how to use. It would be best to leave them to someone who make the most out of them. Casting a feather light charm on both bags Harry balanced himself on his broom and moved towards the hilltop camp.

The survivor group would benefit from the rest of these supplies more then he would. Finding the camp was easy from the air, the group of tents and vehicles obvious in the green brush, while the sports car and box van hadn't arrived yet. There were a lot of families on the ridge, as well as two small children, the people doing chores and foraging in the forest. It made Harry feel relieved to see the children surviving, giving him hope for Teddy back in England. His family would be fine until he could return. The vehicles had to take the slower route through clogged streets, and would probably be a while more before arriving, so Harry landed carefully on the road leading up to the camp and set the bags near the side of the road. It would easy to see but not in the way of any vehicles that would come. Hopefully the group wouldn't be too suspicious of the mysteriously appearing bags and accept them.

Satisfied that he'd done all he could for this group Harry settled back on his broom and headed to his final destination. The CDC was not far off now and Harry hoped to make it before night fall and vision was reduced. Hopefully the Atlanta Camp could survive until Harry could find a solution to the Dead.

Meanwhile, in the box van, an argument was cropping up between Merle and T-Dog. Accusations ran wild of almost being left behind and Rick could barely keep the peace until they exited the city. Merle talked with his hands, which one still dangled a locked cuff, refusing to let T-Dog unlock it with the key. The van is loud with raised voices, Glenn already ahead of them in the car, when Rick let out a sharp whistle. “Everyone, Quiet! We have a situation.”

They came up behind Glenn, who was stopped in the middle of the road with the driver door wide open, looking at two bags on the ground. They were a tool kit and a familiar duffel bag. The truck was quiet while everyone took in the sight. The wail of the car alarm echoed over the mountains. It wasn't long for people to scurry out of the van with Merle charging over to the car. “Turn that damn thing off or you'll draw the lot of 'em here.”

Merle were quick to unplug to car alarm then the group assessed the bags. Andrea was the first to speak up. “There is no way that is what I think it is.” Rick leaned over, opening the bag and sighing softly. “It's definitely my weapon bag, the one I brought in with me... The one I left next to the horse.”

The group is quiet as T-Dog moving closer. “That's Dale's tool bag. I spilled it on the roof and left it. We had no time to pick it back up..” They inspect the bags, finding that there some tools and one gun missing. Rick stands firm, the group too spooked to act up against him. Even Merle stood quietly, fiddling with the cuff on his wrist.

“Well... I don't know how these got here. I certainly don't know how Merle's cuff came loose. Those are regulation cuffs. Let's just chalk it up as a weird day, count our blessings, and get back to camp.” The group was uncertain but couldn’t argue the good fortune, gathering up the bags and setting back in to finish the drive up to camp. It would be a strange day to continue for them, with reunions of family and friends and a shift in power from Shane Walsh to Rick Grimes.

Harry was happy to make it to the CDC area just as twilight set in. The area was littered with corpses but for the most part the Dead were few and far between. It was obvious that people had tried to protect this place but in the end the steel shutters did more then people could. It was too dark to find a way in to the building so Harry settled in for the night. Finding an abandoned ambulance was a god send. Closing the doors from the inside, Harry covers the windows with spare sheets and settles in on the stretcher inside for a night of sleep.

Harry slept under the invisibility cloak for an extra measure against the dead. They could not smell him and they could not see him, so they should ignore the ambulance completely. In the morning breakfast was nothing more then canned corn and a scavenged nut bar. Stripping the ambulance of anything useful, medical supplies, batteries, a map of the area, Harry started to circle the building. It looked to be locked tight, with automatic doors and cameras, and all the doors were either locked or shuttered. It looked dormant. Breaking in by force would render the building useless, the dead swarming the building by noise almost instantly, and the only other way would be to unlock the doors somehow.

Unless he revealed himself and activated the cameras, and hopefully there was someone left inside to see him, there was no way in without breaking the integrity and protection of the building. Realizing this Harry was unsure of how to proceed. It was obvious the power was no longer on in the city but the CDC should have it's own generators. After a month the fuel might be running low but there must be quite a lot of gas that could be scavenged in the area. The building would run on automatic, preserving the samples of the worst diseases known to man, and if it had ran out of power it would be destroyed. Just like the ECDC. There was no guarantee after so long that anyone was still alive, nothing but computers running, but the building was still standing. There was still a chance.

It was difficult but Harry returned to the ambulance, locking himself in for another night. There was still time. As long as the building stood, there was at least hope of getting inside for equipment or notes on the beginning of the phenomena. The next day was another day of futility. Harry searched every inch of the building, every nook, window, crack, and vent, but could not find a way in. The building was sealed tight and no one was getting in. With the sun fading Harry gave up and settled back into the ambulance for another night. His hope was slowly dwindling the longer he failed to get inside. With all of his plans to get to the CDC the outcome of not being able to get into a locked building hadn’t crossed Harry’s mind. A simple unlocking charm had failed to help, all the doors being electronically locked and more liable to break from the magic then unlock, and any offensive magic would be detrimental than helpful.

There was no back up plan. Harry had put all of his hopes on this one building. The hope for the future, The hope to save the rest of his family from Ron’s fate, The hope that someday Teddy could live to adulthood without the Dead knocking at his door. The Hope that, maybe someday, everything would finally be safe.

Harry would have spent another night in his ambulance hide out if things hadn't changed. The sound of engines pulled Harry from his slump on the stretcher. His curiosity got the better of him, crawling to the front cab and pulling a sheet away slowly. Harry didn’t want to catch the attention of the Dead outside. A convoy seemed to be moving in from the road and consisted of some very familiar vehicles with a camper driving at the lead.

People begin to unload from them, weapons in hand, and heading toward the military checkpoint in front of the main building. It was a dead end stop. They wouldn't make it to a safe place before night fall with that many people. It took barely a moment of thought before Harry was packed up, broom and cloak put away with a hand on a machete for a weapon, and he was leaping out of the back door of the ambulance. The Dead hadn't stirred yet but the smell of the living would quickly lure them. Harry runs towards the group, hoping he wouldn’t be too late.

“Wait!” Harry calls out, not hesitating in his running when guns and a crossbow focus on him, recognizing some from the people from the rooftop as well as the man who'd been cuffed that Harry had saved. They seemed confused and agitated as they kept the children huddled in the center while dealing with an unknown threat.

“You best stop before I put an arrow in ya'!” A man with blond hair and a plaid vest yelled at him, brandishing a crossbow. Harry only slows down to come to a quick halt, expression pleading to be heard. He keeps the machete pointed away from them, trying to be non threatening, and keeps his voice calm.

“The CDC is a bust. It's locked down tighter then a bank vault. You won't get in. That's why your here, right? Same as me?” Harry knew what he looked like, covered in dirt, not having bathed for a while now, tattered jeans and a zipper hoodie with worn out running shoes, unkempt shaggy hair and wild eyes. He wouldn't trust himself either.

“How do you know?” The cop fellow, the one who'd stolen the box van, stepped forward with a shotgun. People were uneasy about a stranger coming at them when they're vulnerable. Harry kept himself calm, unconcerned about the weapons, as a non lethal hit he could fix.

“I've been here for a couple days now. I came looking...” Harry hesitated, wondering how he could explain that this was his last option, his last hope. It must have shown on his face because some of the guns lowered a bit. “I came looking for a cure, some kind of solution to this walking corpse phenomena, but the building is locked down. They must have done it when the military was over run.” Harry relaxed a bit when the group seemed to believe him, hopelessness overcoming some of them as well as fear.

The cop in front seemed to think, shifting in place. “How do I know you're not lying?” The gun came back up, stranger danger a very real thing these days. Harry just frowned, looking at the cop with incredulity. “Why would I lie about that? You don't think I'd be in there right now if I could be? I'm a healer, I've got more of a chance helping in that building then any of you.”

Harry would admit that he let his mouth run a bit, emotions running high the last couple days, and he wouldn't blame them for focusing their weapons on him after his aggressive tone. The cop lifted a hand, stalling any action. “You're a Doctor?” Harry nodded, about to respond, when a call from behind the group focused their attention on the Dead getting closer. This spawned a frenzy of movement, the group ignoring his warning and moving towards the CDC.

Indecision battled in Harry once more, wanting to follow and help but knowing the CDC was locked and not likely to open any time soon, the cries of the children in the group made his decision. He followed after them at a distance swinging at any of the Dead with his machete that got close. While Harry wasn't accustomed to close range in battle Auror training had taught him hand to hand combat with weapons. It was required after so many were incapacitated once losing their wands.

The group was wary of him following but ignored him for the bigger goal. They banged and shoved at the metal doors while arguments started over choosing to come here. “I told you it was locked tight. We need to get to somewhere safe.” Harry tried to get their attention, ready to lead the way back to their vehicles through the Dead, but they were all bickering over what to do. He was already covered in blood spatter from the trek across the parking lot so Harry stepped up with the handcuffed man and crossbow guy to fend of the dead closing in on them when, at their most bleak moment, the steel shutters quivered then started to raise up.

Harry looked wide eyed at the now open door as bright light flooding out from the windows. It was a white light, almost blinding in the evening gloom. A light of renewed hope.

Chapter Text

The man in a police officer uniform entered the building first, leading with a shotgun. The rest of the group followed quickly, crossbow guy and handcuff man protecting the back with Harry. An older man with a fisherman's hat directed the group away from the open glass panels. Another man with a shotgun, an African American man, and a girl with blonde hair took point into the building with guns. The police officer called out into the building, looking for whoever opened the door, while everyone scurried away from the bright lights. Harry helped cover the open door to make sure no Dead could get in, using his machete to stab a few in the temple that wandered too close.

The sound of a gun cocking quieted the group, bringing focus to a scruffy looking man in pajamas. The fact he was wearing pajamas was more mind-boggling then the gun. It'd been a long time since Harry had the luxury of changing clothes on a daily basis, let alone get comfortable enough to leave himself vulnerable without his dragon hide vest hidden under his sweater. “Is anyone here infected?” The question starts a nervous murmur through the group, no one a stranger to the danger of a hidden wound.

The police man pleads their case to be let in, agreeing on blood tests as admission, while everyone else looks on anxiously and hopefully. The pajama man looks reluctant to agree to allow them in, until Harry steps out of the shadow of the door. “Please, let us in. It will be a death sentence to cast us back out into the night.” Harry could have made his own case with his medical background but he wasn’t willing to leave these people to survive in the dark.

The man seemed to think it over before sighing. “Fine, but only if you all pass the blood testing. Gather whatever you need because once that door is closed, it will stay closed.” Crossbow Guy, African Man, and an Oriental boy run back to the convoy for the groups supplies, emptying out the caravan, and rushing back inside. The inside glass doors were closed against any dead, the pajama man stepped up to a pin pad and scanned a card against it.

“Vi, lock down the main doors.” People seem to calm as the doors close, keeping them away from the Dead outside. Harry relaxed as the dead were locked out, breathing a sigh of relief. It had been a long journey, but he was finally inside his destination. The Atlanta group seemed to edge away from Harry, the stranger in their midsts, but camaraderie was taking effect. The police man, Rick Grimes, introduced himself to the pajama man, Dr. Edwin Jenner. The group started to collect and pass out their belongings, bags of clothes and personal items, as the crossbow guy and handcuff man turning to Harry. It was obvious they were a bit suspicious of the stranger.

“So who are you, huh? Some high-class Brit stuck on American soil?” Handcuff guy talked with his hands, waving the gun he had in one around casually. It was an obvious dig at his accent. A couple people of the group, including the police officer and doctor, took interest in the conversation. Harry straightened a bit, casually putting his own weapon away, trying to appear non-threatening. “My name is Harry. Just Harry... I've come from the ECDC, in Scotland.” Dr. Jenner seemed to take note of this, focus turning on Harry for a moment.

Rick seemed interested too, stepping closer to him. “ECDC? How did you get all the way here? Why?” Harry was the only focus of the group now, stress down by being safe and able to assess more then just surviving. Taking a small breathe, Harry settles into explaining what he could comfortably give away. “The ECDC is The European Centre for Disease Control. It was a newer facility, mean to mimic this one and help with global disease efforts. It was too new, without any really large hazard assessments or large supply stores. It was over run and ran out of fuel about a month ago.”

The group seemed to show sympathy, it being obvious by his look that Harry had been on the move since then. Rick offers a moment of silence before asking the next question. “It's in Europe?” Harry blinked a bit, unsure of what was being asked at first, then unsure just what people knew here. Europe had plenty of time to find out about the spread over the continents and the world. “You mean the Dead Walking? It's everywhere. No one was safe from this. I travelled here by ship in hope that the CDC would still be standing, that maybe I could help here.”

The group seemed to deflate a bit, some of the good cheer leaving them. Dr. Jenner stepped in, waving the group towards the elevator. “We need to leave and lock down this floor. Vi, shut off the main lights.” The group seemed to want to ask him more questions but followed after Jenner as the lights started to go out, leaving the area pitch black. Harry followed at the back, keeping a respectful distance from the Atlanta group, watching the floor lights go out. They seemed to flicker before they died.

It was a tight fit in the elevator with Harry squeezed between the Oriental man and crossbow guy. Some small talk bounced between people, Harry keeping himself quiet and unassuming, as it would be best not to get on anyone's bad side this early. The elevator brought them to some sort of office area before shutting down to conserve electricity. Jenner lead them to a large circular room, introducing this part of the building as Area 5. Rick asked the obvious question of where the rest of the staff were and Jenner explained the rash of abandonment and suicides that had befallen the building. Collecting the necessary supplies Jenner asked them all to give blood now to make sure no one was hiding an infection.

The blonde girl questioned the need for it, since infected people ran high fevers, but Jenner only explained the need to be thorough and follow at least some rules. Harry made sure he was first to get his blood drawn, wanting to come off as trustworthy and not suspicious. Jenner was efficient, if a little out of practice, quickly finding Harry’s vein. “So, the ECDC? How did that happen?” Harry perked up a bit at the small talk while they waited for his blood to finish filling the vials. “I’m not entirely sure. Unfortunately I arrived after the power went down. The back up system hadn’t been connected yet, so it was already in ruins by the time I arrived and the area abandoned.” The group listened curiously as the two medical experts talked, taking in the scraps of information sorely needed. “That so? It’s unfortunate to have an asset lost so quickly.” Jenner withdrew the needle from Harry’s arm and offered a cotton ball. “Yes. It was still well into the panic that swept the populace but I managed to secure passage on a civilian boat heading to Mexico. I convinced them to let me off in Port Royal. It was eerie. I hadn’t been on land again until then and it was much too quiet for a city.” Harry got up and let the seat be filled by the next person to draw blood, sitting a bit away from the rest of the group. “Well, It’s good you made it here safely through the pile up on the high ways.” Rick said with a voice filled with compassion, holding a small boy’s hand while his blood was drawn.

Soon enough the blood drawing was complete with one of the blonde girls growing faint. Concern sprang up through the survivors, the group explaining how they ran out of food days ago. Jenner seemed to think it over, then offered the kitchen to them.

It was a mad scramble to kitchen after that, the promise of food a high motivator. Harry stayed out of the way, having at least eaten that day, watching the group of strangers curiously. There was a mousy blonde woman and a little girl, mother and daughter probably, the African American man and woman who were probably a couple, two blonde girls who looked alike and possible sisters, the crossbow guy and handcuff man who were probably brothers if their mannerisms were anything to go by, A dark haired woman, a little boy, and Rick Grimes was a family by the matching rings on the adults, Fisherman Hat who was by far the oldest and without company, Oriental Boy who looked no older then 18, and Deputy Shotgun who looked like a former coworker to Rick. By the tension between Deputy and Rick's wife, there was probably something a little more then friends going on or had gone on. Even the apocalypse couldn't seen to stop human drama. Harry was tempted to laugh but kept it to himself, finding it a little ridiculous with the Dead knocking at their doors that people still had energy to worry about affairs.

The mass of people following Jenner gushed over the fully stocked pantry. It could have fed an army and had been left all to one single soul and now a group of hungry strangers. Harry was quick to offer introductions as well as pitch in to cook the food while Crossbow, who was Daryl Dixon, and Handcuffs, who was the older brother Merle Dixon, raided the alcohol. Fisherman hat was Dale, who owned the camper outside, and oriental guy was Glenn, a former pizza delivery boy. Rick's wife was Lori and his son was Carl. The two blonde sisters were Andrea and Amy, the former the more assertive of the two. The African American couple were T-Dog, a nickname apparently, and Jacqui. The mother and daughter duo was Carol and Sophia, who recently lost the father. Deputy Shotgun was Shane Walsh, Rick's former partner at work from Before, and was the reason why Lori and Carl escaped to Atlanta while Rick was in a coma at a Hospital. It was a miracle the family had been reunited, and obvious that Shane felt a little more then a best friend's duty towards Lori. Harry vowed to try and keep out of that brewing mess.

Dinner turned into a joyous affair with the introduction of alcohol. Carl was allowed to try a sip of wine and immediately dubbed it disgusting. Daryl had made it his mission to get Glenn drunk, Merle turning the same attention towards Harry. “Come on Boy, You can't have had your first taste of the good stuff yet. What's the age limit in that country of yours anyway?” Harry just kept a polite smile, already able to tell Merle was half cut, or acting that way anyway, not taking too much offensive from the Dixon Brothers less then clean mouths. This did bring up a curious question thought, Harry wondering how old he looked to the group around him. “Just out of curiosity, How old do you think I am?”

The rest of the Atlanta group pitched in at the question, the consensus being somewhere between 18 and 22. Harry just smiled a bit wider, refusing the bottle of wine from Merle for the third time. “Actually, I turned 29 i think a couple weeks ago. It was July right?” A few people refused to believe him, claiming he looked to young and was still in collage for sure. Merle seemed to get a thoughtful expression though, looking at him a bit more intensely then before. Daryl was quick to gain his attention, noticing the look, saving Harry was having to bring up the awkward staring.

“So what have you had before, since you keep refusing this?” Merle shook the almost empty wine bottle in his direction, before downing the last of it. Most of the group were drunk, Jenner sitting to the side and not participating, a few able to concentrate on the conversations around them. Harry hummed a bit, before smirking and reaching into his bag. Since he was around muggles he'd taken to keeping his bottomless bag inside a regular muggle backpack to avoid suspicion of large objects coming from it. It had been more of an issue early on in the Infection.

Grabbing a bottle inside, Harry puts the bottle on the table with a flourish. “If I'm going to drink, I'm not drinking that lady stuff.” Harry smirked a bit wider at the affronted look on Merle's face, since he's just downed an entire bottle of wine. Quick to grab some smaller cups, he pours a bit of fire whisky for himself and another for Merle, and Daryl since his attention had been pulled from the very drunk Glenn at the introduction of a new alcohol. Offering the cups, he takes up his own and offers a toast to the brothers. “To a new Hope.” It was toast mostly for himself but most of the table pitched in as well.

Harry tipped his glass back, downing the fiery drink with ease in one go, while Merle and Daryl immediately coughed and rubbed at their chests. “What is hell is in this stuff? Burns like fucking lava.” Daryl was very vocal about his opinion while Merle kept quiet. He looked down at his still almost full glass then at Harry's empty one. “A’ight, guess the Brit has a set of balls after all.” Harry can only laugh, wondering when the approval of a couple country hicks actually starting mattering to him, pouring himself another glass. “If you're too weak to drink it, i'll take it.”

Harry playfully reaches for Merle's glass, but both brothers take the challenge and knock back the glasses. They don't ask for another. Shane is sitting next to him, watching the exchange with a little amusement, focus taken off of Lori and Rick across from them for a moment. “What is in that stuff? Has to be strong to get the Dixon's to back off.” Harry hums, then smirks, offering the bottle to the table. “I call it Fire Whisky.” Daryl snorts, taking another bottle of wine over the whisky. “Better off just calling it Lava. Shit burns.”

Some refused, already too drunk to drink more, but Shane and Rick take a glass each. Harry is impressed when Shane manages to finish his glass, Rick giving up halfway. The evening begins to wind down with Jenner showing them rooms to stay in, which were more offices then actual bedrooms, mentioning to go easy on power and the hot water. This caused a mad scramble to pick rooms and get in the shower, the call of warm water very compelling. There was limited space available since the power is being conserved so people had to share rooms.

The sisters, Andrea and Amy, roomed together, while Merle and Daryl took another. The Grimes Family fit themselves into a room, while Carol and Sophia took the one across. T-dog and Jacqui took a room, leaving two for the single men. Dale offered to room with Glenn, helping the drunk boy onto a pillow mattress, leaving Harry to room with Shane. The debate on who got the couch was short lived, Harry claiming the floor before Shane could. He'd much rather have space and a quick exit then bundle up on the small couch. Old habits to live by.

Harry offered the shower to Shane first as he collected pillows and sheets to make a makeshift bed on the floor. By the time Harry was done and clean clothing selected from rooms closet Shane was finished and getting ready for bed. Harry was quick to take his turn so he could spend as much time as he could under the hot water. Cleaning charms were handy but still left the grimy feeling behind. Nothing beat a deep clean scrub with actual soap and water.

When Harry emerged Shane was gone from the room. Shrugging, not responsible for his room mates whereabouts, he settled into putting away and sorting his belongings back into his bag. The bottomless bag had been instrumental to his survival so far. It was truly bottomless, holding several pieces of furniture as well as all of his other scavenged supplies, as well as being easy to camouflaged. There was no telling how many wizards were left alive, or even if the Secrecy act could still be monitored, but Harry felt it best to hide the obviously magical items he possessed. Best not to test how accepting people could be under the current stressful circumstances.

With Shane gone and Harry freshly cleaned, packed, and ready for anything, the wizard found himself with some free time. Not even remotely tired, especially after the events of the evening, Harry found himself roaming the halls. It was quiet but not eerily so. The sound of buzzing electronics and safety lights were a sorely missed background noise. It gave a sense of safety, or normalcy, after a month of living at sea and sleeping in empty houses.

Harry’s wandering found him back in the main room, which was empty except for Dr. Jenner, where the doctor was looking over some video files. “Hello Jenner. Can’t sleep?” The doctor looked at Harry as the younger man joined him at the consoles. “Afraid not. Too much to think about. How about you? I thought you’d take advantage and get a decent sleep.”

Harry looked at the videos playing, they seemed to be journal recordings, before looking back at Jenner. “I can’t really settle. It almost seems too good to be true, the feeling of safety. It’s a little hard to let go. I’ll probably crash in a few hours when the alcohol runs it course.” Jenner hummed softly, pausing the video and turning fully to face Harry.

They shared a look, Jenner’s face full of uncertainty, before the wizard sighed. “How long?” The doctor flinched, turning away from the compassionate look in Harry’s eyes, remaining silent for a moment. “How long have I been alone, or how long do we have left? I know you know what happens when the power runs out.” Harry took a deep breath, crossing his arms and leaning against the console. “I suppose both. The building has been active for a month, on severely reduced functions I gathered, but it won’t last forever. Have we made any progress at least?” Harry couldn’t stop his voice from being hopeful, keeping the desperation as hidden as he could. He wanted, no, needed a solution to the mess the world had become.

Jenner was silent for a brief, agonizingly taunting, moment before sighing and closing down the video. “It’s been a while. I stopped counting, to be honest, when it became too much to know. There’s still time, enough to come to terms with everything, before the end. The results are...” Jenner paused, fiddling with his sleeves while Harry watched him intently. “The samples were unfortunately lost, due to contamination. With the remaining power, even with samples, I doubt..” The doctor trailed off, not looking at the hope slowly being crushed on Harry’s face.

Harry took careful breaths, hands gripping his own arms to almost painful levels, staring down at Jenner. “There’s.. nothing? Nothing at all?” Jenner flinched but looked up in determination. “Well, there is nothing here. Communication with the other research stations went down early so, I can’t say with 100% accuracy that there is nothing at all but.. There is nothing in America. I’m sorry.”

Harry could feel his hopes shatter. He put everything into the CDC, a foolish move perhaps in the end, but it had been his last option. His last hope to save his family from a fate worse then death. Harry took a steadying breath, waving off the concern Jenner was showing him. “I... I see...” Harry stood straight, looking around the room to keep his gaze away from the pity he could see in Jenner’s eyes. “I suppose... In the end, it was only a dream that America could... Sorry, I think I’ll head to bed now.” Harry tried not to think that he was running away from Jenner but he couldn’t stay in that room with the man who had shattered him. “Right, of course. I’ll see you in the morning, Harry.”

His pace quickly took him back to the hallways, passing a very inebriated Rick heading towards to main room, and down the winding pathways. Most of them were dark save for safety lights, powered down to conserve energy, with pitch black rooms and shadowed corners hiding him away from anyone who might see him. It took a moment to orientate himself but he eventually found a storage area, full to the brim with every medical item imaginable, hunkering down beside an examination table. The room was dark, only the light from the hallway illuminating the area, which was what Harry wanted. No one could see or hear him as he broke down sobbing, glasses landing on the floor as he covered his eyes and wept.

It was long overdue, releasing the tension that had wound up tighter and tighter since the first case of Inferism was documented at St. Mungo’s, Harry finally letting out the pain, sadness, guilt, remorse, hopelessness, and doubt that had been festering beneath his fool’s hope of a plan. Running to America, chasing a passing dream of an end to the situation that was now reality, was nothing more then running from his own insecurity. His own rage. His own unending guilt for the blood on his hands.

Harry knew, deep inside, that the CDC wouldn’t be able to fix anything. It wouldn’t fix Ron. It wouldn’t fix what he had done to his family, killing his first friend out of mercy, or what they would think of him when the found out the truth. Finding Grimmauld Place empty had been a misstep, no one to change his focus and bring him back to what needed to be done instead of what he hoped could be done, to keep him from following his misguided plan.

It was too late now. Even if he had found salvation here, or even if he didn’t, how on earth was Harry supposed to get it back home to his family now? Apparation couldn’t be done over an entire ocean of distance and it would be fool’s luck to find another ship to go back to England. Harry had run from his family and stranded himself in a foreign country without any way of getting back or even a back up plan.

This is why Hermione was the one who made the plans.

Everything poured from him, escaping in deep, body aching, sobs. He had abandoned his family in his grief, unable to cope with his own actions, covering it all up with a ‘purpose’ that no longer existed. Harry was utterly, and truly, lost.

It took some time, half an hour maybe , before the sobs settled down into silent tears. Harry could feel his body trembling, energy tapped out, slumped against the examination table. It was the end of the line for now, at least. His emotions had slowly numbed, coping with the onslaught by filtering it out, until the tears stopped and Harry could finally think.

The CDC was a bust, manned only by a Doctor who had given up, with no hope and no alternative. What was there now?

Harry slowly looked around the room, placing his glasses back on after wiping his face, taking in the stockpile of supplies. A stockpile that, sooner rather then later, would be nothing but rubble and ash. It wasn’t a matter of If but of When. The back up power would run out of gas eventually. Jenner’s vague answer gave Harry a hint that it would much sooner then anticipated.

It wasn’t much, it wasn’t even a plan, but Harry was a man of action more then a man of plans. His choices in Hogwarts could attest to that. Harry might not be able to live, to truly live, but he was an expert at surviving. Living his childhood at the Dursley’s more then just taught him that.

Action was better then stagnating on a sterile floor.

With some semblance of steps to take, Harry picked himself up off the floor and stepped out back into the dimly lit hallway. He had some scavenging to do. It made sense, it was something Harry was good at and it was something he didn’t need to think about. Harry was a survivor long before he ended up a hero.

Returning to his room found Shane still missing, which was odd but Harry wouldn’t question his good fortune. Grabbing his backpack he quickly head back out, turning down the first dark hallway he sees and heading into the first room. It was a bare office already stripped of most useful items, holding mostly paperwork and office supplies, but Harry made quick work of the room. He grabbed anything even remotely worth while, from pens to decorative couch cushions. Harry was going to test just how bottomless this bag really was.

It could have been minutes or hours, possibly the whole night, and another bottle of whisky before Harry crashed back into his room. He barely scratched the surface on what was stored in Area 5, focused on anything medical related, before his energy waned and Harry could barely focus on what he was picking up anymore. The ferocity had been sated, the deep need to get up and do something appeased, leaving Harry exhausted. He could do more in the morning, do more when he could feel something.

Shane was still gone, something Harry barely noticed, before curling up under the blankets on the floor of his room. His backpack was lazily thrown beside him, heavier then before as the contents stressed the weightless charm. Harry had only began to doze, mind blessedly silent, when Shane returned. The man was a bit more tipsy, obviously had continued drinking after the dinner, and almost tripped over Harry on the floor. The lights turned on brighter with Shane's movements, Harry stirring when he noticed Shane sitting on the couch with his face into his hands. The angry red claw marks on his neck were still lightly bleeding.

Harry paused for only a moment, wondering where the marks had come from, what had happened to cause it, and why, but decided none of it mattered and wasn't his business. As a Healer his only responsibility was to heal the injured, Shane could deal with the perpetrator on his own time. “Let me help with that.” Shane flinched, seeming to have forgotten Harry was rooming with him, as well as surprised by the rasp in Harry’s voice. It was a lot harsher then sleepiness would cause. The wizard gathered some supplies from his pack, grabbing a quick heal paste as well as disinfectant cream, and some bandaging supplies pilfered from the CDC. He didn't need the bandages to heal but just needed to keep up appearances of being a muggle doctor.

“It's fine. You don't need to do that.” Shane seemed uneasy talking about the scratches, whether he was guilty or embarrassed about having them and possibly leery about who gave them to him, but Harry was determined. “Don't be stubborn. I don't rightly care who did it, whether is was Carol or Daryl Dixon, or why, but it can't be comfortable and I'm also a doctor. Stop being a baby about it.” Harry blamed the alcohol a bit for how brazen he was being, as well as the numb feeling where his emotions should be, but the harsh language seem to surprise Shane and stopped his fussing.

Moving closer Harry was quick to apply the paste over the scratches, making sure they were covered, then pressed a gauze to it and lightly wrapped it with bandages. It was loose enough to not hinder breathing. “Now let's get some sleep. I'm tired and drunk, you're probably tired, drunk, and now injured. I think we deserve a good night of rest for once.” Nodding, deeming the matter over, Harry slunk back to this makeshift bed and curled back up, giving a satisfied sigh. If nothing else Harry could still be useful, even if it was to the benefit of strangers.

With his back to Shane, all he could hear was the shuffling as the cop's boots came off as Shane settled in to sleep. The cop slowly settled until the only sound was their breathing and the muffled background noise of the building. No growls, no moans, just the peace of safety. It was perfect, for now.

“Harry..” The wizard didn't stir, playing off as being asleep. Shane didn't really need him to answer back anyway, the man only checking if he was listening. “Thanks.”

Chapter Text

Waking up with a hang over and a hazy idea of how he got back to his room was an experience Harry sorely missed. Being on the run from flesh eating Dead didn't lend itself well to getting completely hammered, needing complete awareness to not be eaten while he slept. Rolling over in his blanket cocoon Harry noticed that Shane was already gone. Boots and clothing were missing, but his bag was still there. The group was still settled in the building then.

Groaning softly, Harry takes the moment alone to sift for a hang over potion in his bottomless bag. Nothing looked out of place so at least his room mate hadn't taken the opportunity to snoop through his bag. Once his head ache and queasy stomach had been taken care of, Harry rolled out of his cocoon and made himself decent for company.

Harry had become somewhat of a hoarder, always grabbing a useful blanket, shirt or knife from his travels. Picking out a clean shirt and pants, pilfered from a CDC storage closet, Harry gathered up all his things and placed his backpack/bottomless bag on one shoulder. Time was ticking down to how long the CDC has left and Harry didn’t want to be caught without his supplies when it was time to go. Harry would need to explain just what the situation was that the Atlanta Group had gotten themselves into, but that could wait until the rumbling in his stomach had been appeased. The smell of breakfast being cooked wafted down the hallway, luring the wizard to the kitchen.

Walking into the kitchen Harry was surprised by how many of the Atlanta group was already awake. The only ones missing were the Dixon's, who'd probably drank more then him, and surprisingly Shane. Harry vaguely remembered interacting with his room mate at some point the previous night, but everything was still a bit hazy after the second bottle of fire whisky and the emotional roller coaster that he had gone down.

“Well good morning sleepy head.” Dale smiled, waving him over to sit next to him and Glenn. The young Oriental Boy looked positively awful and was almost falling asleep in his coffee. Seems Daryl had kept good on his promise to get Glenn properly drunk.

“Good Morning. Everyone slept alright?” Harry took a seat next to Glenn, Lori on his other side with Carl and Rick. The group gave a collective assent, some more awake then others, with T-Dog already up and making people breakfast as they trickle in. Harry thanked the man when a plate of powered eggs and dried bacon, with a cup of coffee on the side, was placed in front of him.

“Ugghhh, I'm never drinking again....” Glenn pulled a laugh from the room, with some good natured ribbing, and Harry was willing to take some pity on the boy. Reaching into his bag he grabs whats left of his hang over potion and offered Glenn the vial.

“Here. This should help. It's a home made remedy. Don't mind the taste, It's awful but it works.” People looked curious at the old fashioned stopper bottle but beggars couldn't be choosers in the apocalypse. Glenn didn't even second glance at the bottle, downing the potion with a grimace and a groan. After a moment Glenn looked a bit more awake, blinking slowly and looking at Harry in amazement.

“That works instantly. What is it?” Glenn looks curiously at the empty bottle, only a little bit left in the bottom, looking more alert and refreshed then before. Everyone at the table was curious, with some suffering a bit more then others the after effects of their excessive revelry.

“Hang over potion.” Harry smirked, taking a bit of eggs while the table snickered at his 'joke'. Potions and herbs were the easiest of Magic to pass off to muggles. “It's all natural herbs. It'll be next to impossible to make it again so I'd moderate a bit next time.” Some of the group started to ask him what was in it or what else he could make when the Dixon's walk in.

Merle had a grouchy face with his body slumped over and looking not much better then Glenn had. Daryl trailed behind him, looking a little better but not much, giving a mild glare at the amused faces looking at them. They took empty seats across from Harry and the Grimes while accepting coffee without fuss, which was amazing since T-Dog was serving the table. Harry couldn't help but poke the sleeping bears while holding his coffee up to hide his smirk.

“Feeling alright there, boys? Thought you could hold your liquor.” The comment earned him a death glare from Merle and a snort from Daryl. The brothers were quiet, mostly talking to themselves, subdued by headaches and being bested in a drinking contest with Harry. The Magic Alcohol had helped. “That Lava drink was cheatin'..” Daryl mumbled, achieving a grin from Harry and quiet chuckles from the group. Rick piped up his two cents, saying he should have given up when Harry dared them to match him shot for shot of the fire whisky.

Merle just kept quiet, glaring at anyone who dared talk to him, only allowing his brother to pester him with such a killer headache, the table glad for the respite from Merle’s ‘stunning’ personality. Shane was the last to arrive for breakfast, coming through the door at a relaxed pace and taking the last spot next to Merle. The deputy and hillbilly ignored each other, both more interested in the freshly cooked food then pressing each others buttons. Rick pointed out the bandages on Shane’s neck out of curiosity on what happened and on who had medical grade bandages laying around.

“Harry fixed me up. Must of done it in my sleep.” People looked to Harry to confirm or deny. Smiling a bit sheepishly the wizard just shrugged in answer. “I can't remember a thing past crawling into bed. Must of been nasty if I fixed you up while completely sloshed.” This gained another quiet chuckle from the table, breakfast finishing when Jenner arrived on the scene and grabbed his plate.

Dale and T-Dog were quick to ask questions, wanting to know about any progress on a cure or what was causing the Dead to rise, Jenner slowly finishing his plate. The docter glanced up at Harry, a quiet resigned look in his eyes, which Harry looked away from. This conversation wouldn’t be an easy one. Jenner directed the group to follow him. It was a quiet walk to the main computer room, the group waiting for whatever the docter needed to show them, Jenner setting up a video of Test Subject – 19. Harry found the footage fascinating to see. Some sort of contagion would take over motor functions and instinctual areas of the brain, transforming the mind into the perfect infection vehicle, while keeping the nerves alive just enough for movement. This kind of in depth scan would have been impossible to get from Magic Medicine, Muggle technology was truly amazing, and Harry was a little glad to have come to the CDC now. He would have never known how the contagion functioned otherwise.

Seeing the virus restart the brain was utterly fascinating. Harry stood closer to the screen to see better. “Have you made any progress past this? Something to keep the virus from shutting down the brain?” Harry looked at the doctor with a flare of hope in his eyes, but only received the same answer as last night. Jenner shook his head, explaining how all samples had been lost, there was nothing left to study.

“I can't help but notice that this clock has been ticking down since we got here. What happens when it reaches zero?” Dale brought up another good point, refocusing the group's attention after such a dark revelation. Jenner seemed to be tight lipped about the clock, but did explain that the clock was the gasoline reserve. Power would shut down and leave the building nothing but a lifeless shell in about one hour. Harry stiffened in shock, looking at Jenner with disbelief at the lie, but the Doctor just turned away and left the room.

Confusion and alarm rippled through the group, Rick, Shane, Daryl, and Merle looked ready to storm the basement after Jenner had left. No one wanted to give up their new home but Harry stepped out in front of them before they could leave. “Wait!” Merle scoffed, moving to shove past Harry, face a mask of irritation and disappointment. “Move you Nancy Boy. We don't got time to sit on our asses over this.” Harry was more determined thought and shoved the bigger man back. He was shorter and more light weight compared to the compact bodies of the Dixon's, but surprised that Harry would push back Merle backed away from the door. The rest of the Atlanta group watched on in confusion and a bit of respect as not many would stand up to a hung over and irritated Merle.

“No! You will listen to me Merle Dixon. Vi, What happens when the gas runs out?” Harry looks to the ceiling waiting for the computer voice. The room was quiet as everyone listened for the answer. “When the power runs out facility wide decontamination will occur.” The room was dead silent as Harry stood stiff and ramrod straight. He knew what will happen when this building ran out of fuel but also knew that confused and panicky people responded better to logical, unquestionably facts from a reliable source. People started moving, scrambling to get though the door and past the Healer, but Harry thrust a hand out. “No body will fucking move.” The group stalled, surprised at the language, as no one had heard the mild mannered Brit swear the entire time together, not even while drunk. Rick stepped closer, arms up to settle harry. “Now Harry, I know this is a tense situation we are all in right now, but we need to go check the-”

“Vi. What does facility wide Decontamination mean?” Harry interrupted the Sherrif, expression closed and cold.

“In the event of catastrophic power failure H.I.T.s will be deployed to decontaminate the facility.” was the monotone response.

Harry took in a deep breath, still blocking the door, refusing to let anyone pass. The look of sheer determination and resolve kept anyone from trying to shove past, thought Merle looked like it was a personal slight to be kept in check by a tiny British doctor. Dale took over, seeming to understand what Harry was trying to do. “Vi, what are H.I.T.s”

“H.I.T.s-- high-impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives consists of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen between 5,000 and 6,000 degrees and is used when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired.” Harry took a step back from the door, unblocking the way through the door, bringing attention back to him and not the automated voice of the computer.

“It's going to set the air of fire. The automated security systems in this building is going to kill us all in 48 minutes.” People looked back at the clock, seeing the countdown for something far worse then just loss of power. The room was still and silent, people taking a moment to process what that meant, realizing that this place was no longer their sanctuary but a tomb.

“We need to leave, right now!” Harry turned on his heel and began to sprint down the hallway. The Atlanta group still needed to gather their stuff, having left everything unpacked and a mess in their rooms, but Harry was packed and ready. He sped past the rooms where the group had put their stuff, scoffing at the utter chaos left behind, trying to find the next exit to the first floor. It would take precious minutes to get them ready. Harry intended to have a way out when they were. The elevator had been powered down by Jenner the night before, leaving the stairs the only way to the surface unless they found a way to over ride the command. Finding the staircase was easy but the door was locked.

No one had followed him yet, thankfully, so he quickly pulled his wand and opened the door with an unlocking spell. The lights in the stairwell were on. It seemed to be dim emergency lights but it was enough to get up the stairs without tripping on them. Looking out the staircase door Harry spotted the Dixon brothers and Glenn and he quickly gestured to the small group. “The stairs are here. We can get up with enough time to find a way out, hopefully.” Turning back Harry starts the long climb up. Auror training and Quiddich had been good for something at least as his endurance and stamina was more then enough to keep a steady pace going up. The Dixon brothers fell behind, still hungover and a bit woozy, but Glenn kept pace with him and was more then eager to get out of the building turned death trap.

The first floor was as they had left it the night before, the doors locked tight and needing power plus a key card to open them. Thankfully the windows had been left uncovered but the windows themselves were shatterproof. Hitting it with something hard wouldn't cut it. Not even a bullet would be able to peirce it. Merle was proving this point as he failed to break a window with a crowbar. “Break you sonovabitch!” Daryl and Glenn had joined in now. The boy was trying to pry a window loose while Daryl helped his brother. Harry wasn't sure what could break the window short of a small explosion. He didn’t have anything on him that would be safe to use, besides his wand, and the situation was not yet dire enough to out himself to the group.

The rest of the group trickled into the foyer from the stair case in small gaggles, Lori and Carol taking to looking after to children while the rest joined them at the windows. Shane had a shotgun and took aim at the window. Harry rushed over and pushed the gun down before Shane could fire. “Are you insane?!” The deputy looked affronted, gesturing wildly to the window with a look of desperation. “Are you?! We need the windows open, now!”

Rick was quick to come to Harry's defence knowing the possible ricochet of the buck shot could harm them more then the window. People gathered near the windows in fear, those without melee weapons standing back out of the way of the who did, Amy looked more and more worried as she clung to her sister. “How are we going to get out of here?”

Panic started to set in as the lights dimmed and the air circulation cut out. The building was shutting down slowly as the power ran out to save vital systems. Without the timer they had no idea how much time they had left to get out of the blast zone of the H.I.T.s. Harry stood near a window, knowing he could probably break it with magic, but unsure if he should reveal magic. It could save them but it could lose him the very people he was trying to save. Indecision gripped him, the fear of losing even more stilling his hand, and it was only the knowledge that he would die along side them all if Harry did nothing that moved him into action. Harry James Potter would not die without a fight, would not lay down and accept his fate, not again.

“Everyone, please, move back.” The calm tone of his voice drew surprise from the group and soothed some of the panic. Harry sounded like he had a plan. The people striking at the windows moved back from where they'd been beating at and approached Harry. Merle snorted, gasping and sweating from exertion, holding his crowbar loosely in his grip. “You got some sort of plan for breaking this shit, huh?”

Harry looked at everyone, tired, sweaty, and scared, then nodded. He motioned them all further back, behind some counters for added protection from debris. Hunkering behind them as well, Harry reached into his jacket and drew his wand from his holster. This caused Daryl to snort since he was the closest to Harry and could clearly see the carved wood. “A stick? You're plan is a goddamn stick? What you gunna do? Poke the window?” Harry ignored the man, focusing on the weakest part of the slightly bent window. It would have to hit precisely so the backlash didn’t end up hurting someone.

“Keep low, we don't want anyone hit by the debris.” People were starting to look skeptical, some looking to move from behind the counters, when harry stood and flicked his wand. The combustion spell left his lips and red light shot from his wand, startling the people close to him, slamming into the window. It exploded on contact, shattering the window and part of the frame, launching pieces of molten glass around them.
 
Harry ducked down again until the glass debris settled then quickly darted out of the new hole in the wall. There was not very many Dead outside thankfully, most having moved on when the smell of the living had vanished, and he didn't hesitate to pick off the few remaining. Cutting hexes usually reserved for opening packages and mundane tasks was excellent for beheading a walking corpse.

The Atlanta group was slow to follow after him, marvelling at the wizard easily picking off the Walkers without a sweat, leaving a large corridor towards the RV and cars. Harry wasn't one to assume he'd be welcome with them after this so he quickly darted past the caravan of vehicles as everyone else began to pile into them. Harry ran along the shoulder of the road, lessening the chance of being attacked by hidden Dead, not wanting to pause to get his broom and cloak until he was a bit further away from the blast radius. He didn’t know how much time was left, minutes or seconds, and didn’t want to risk injury from the coming explosion.

The sound of engines roared behind him and the caravan of vehicles from the Atlanta group slowly weaved around the stalled cars on the road. Daryl lead on a motorcycle, looking over at him with an unreadable face as he past the running wizard. Dale drove past next with the RV, the sisters, Merle, Sophia, and Carol inside. They were followed by the car the Grimes were in, then T-Dog and Jacqui’s car, and Shane brought up the rear in a 2 seat jeep. Shane looked at him with the same look Daryl did, Harry looking back with a blank expression, before the jeep came to a stop next to the wizard. “Get in.”

Harry slowly stopped running, breathing heavy from jogging, while the rest of the vehicles stopped as well. No one came out of the vehicles. They were waiting for Shane. Looking at the Deputy Harry slowly put his wand away, wary of getting in, but a spark of hope rose in his chest. “You’re sure? I could be dangerous.” Shane just slowly smirked, leaning over and opening the door on the passenger side. “You helped me out before so I'm just repaying the favor.”

Harry looked to Shane, back down the road towards the CDC, then up the road to wherever it would take them. There wasn't much more he could really do, besides leave on his own and hope he found somewhere to survive, so Harry climbed into the jeep and buckled in. The caravan started moving again, heading towards somewhere, or maybe no where.

Settled into the jeep Harry took a moment to really come to terms on just what he had gotten himself info. There was no cure. No magical solution to the world ending. No way home unless he miraculously found a boat with enough fuel to take him across the Atlantic Ocean or an international pork key that still worked and wouldn’t drop him in the middle of an infestation of the Dead. There was no one he knew and no way to contact his family back home to let them know he was still alive.

As far the magical world was concerned Harry was long missing or dead. No one was expecting him, no one was waiting for him, no one probably missed him.

Not after Ron.

Harry did have one thing going for him though. He was a survivor, and strength came in numbers. Maybe the group wouldn’t be able to accept him, maybe the first they did when the immediate danger was gone would be to kick him to the curb, but Harry had spent time alone before. There was danger travelling alone, sleepless nights and being prey to any marauding group formed from the loss of society, and Harry wouldn’t be able to survive alone. His thoughts would get him before the Dead did.

This ragtag group of people might just be his best chance to move on. To accept what his future would be. To maybe, just maybe, find a place to be useful. To finally matter and be Just Harry.

Chapter Text

It was only a few minutes after climbing into Shane's jeep that the CDC went up in a huge fireball. Smoke climbed high into the sky and debris rained down on the buildings around it. The convoy of vehicles were far enough away to only feel a bit of heat and a shock wave, slowing a bit to ride out the shaking but continuing forward.

The jeep was silent as Shane focused on driving. Harry was unwilling to be the first to speak up. The rifle the man owned sat between the seat and the gearshift, in easy access for defence, and it made Harry a bit nervous. Muggles were not known for taking the existence of magic well, the various Muggleborns who were kick out of their homes was an example, and Harry didn’t want to accidentally rile the Deputy up when he was driving them through clogged streets.

The group moved off clogged city roads and eased onto one the highways that left the city. One side was mostly clear of any cars or debris and made driving easier. “So.” Shane spoke up, grabbing Harry's attention from watching the streets. With no windows or roof on the Jeep Harry was keeping an eye out for any Dead who might want to try climbing into the slow moving vehicle. “You want to start explaining? I may have picked you up but that doesn't mean the group won't want to ditch you the second we stop. We need some sort of explanation for, well, whatever that stick is.”

Harry took in a deep breath, sighing softly, and wondered where to begin. The statute of secrecy was surely null by this point, what with muggles fleeing to any available place including deteriorating magical buildings, and it couldn't hurt to try and explain the truth. Plus Harry could actually prove it if they demanded more physical magic other then the Bombarda and Slashing hex.

“The easiest explanation is that I am a Wizard. Think Merlin and King Arthur magic, old fairy-tale style. The stick is called a wand. It's a conduit that lets me to channel my magic and use it in various ways. Back in the CDC I used a spell called Bombarda. It ignites the natural chemicals in the atmosphere to create a controlled explosion. The more magic I use, the bigger it would have been.” Harry took to explaining in simple terms, not needing to get into the particulars of magical life, so Shane could understand.

Shane looked over at him with an odd look, keeping his eyes on the car in front of him at regular intervals, seeming to be unbelieving of Harry's explanation. Which was fair, Harry wouldn't have believed himself either, until the Dead started to rise and broke the rules. “So, what? You some kind of wand waving, broom riding, potion brewing witch?” The incredulity was obvious in Shane's voice, confronted with something more unbelievable then the walking Dead.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle, nodding along as Shane talked. “Wizard. Witch implies that I'm female and I assure you I am not. I could even show you the flying broom stick if you like.” Shane looked about ready to laugh, obviously waiting for the joke punchline, but soon started to frown. “You're kidding right? There's no such thing as magic, even if the Dixon's believe in Voodoo, you're pulling my tail.”

Harry hadn't thought Shane would believe him at first so he was prepared to back it up with a few small gimmick spells. Leaning forward, Harry quickly pulled his wand from the hostler on his lower back, bringing it closer to Shane so he could see it. “It doesn't look like just any old stick, does it? It's special and was crafted for the use of Magic. Here, I'll show you.” Harry casts a quick and easy charm, making bubbles come from the tip of his wand and float around the jeep. The fact they even stayed in the open cab of the vehicle while in motion and the wind flowed through was Magic in itself.

Shane looked wide eyes at the bubbles, flinching as one landed on his hair and popped. Harry couldn't help but chuckle as Shane started looking like a little kid who just found out Santa Claus was real and just walked through the front door of his house. The look of wonder reminded Harry of a much more innocent time, when he first found out Magic was real and he could wield it. The memory made his heart ache so Harry returned it to the back of his mind.

“This is impossible...” Shane's voice was low, watching the bubbles float and pop themselves on various surfaces. It was a first year charm, meant to teach children control while using a medium they can enjoy, but Shane looked like Harry just cast some impressive magic feat. “Not Impossible. It's just that Magic turned into a secret society when regular people, or muggles, started to burn witches at the stake. In order to save our people we made the muggles forget we ever existed. Stories and tales still passed from generation to generation but was regarded as fiction and nothing more.” Harry explained to the best of his ability, not having paid all that much attention to history, trying to remember what Hermione had told him in lectures over the years.

Shane looked at Harry with a peculiar expression, maybe believing him but still in doubt, as Muggles relied a lot on their science and believing in what could be seen. Harry had hoped the bubble charm would be enough. “What else can you do?” Shane asked him quietly as if he was unsure if he wanted to know the answer. Harry thought on how to answer that question, wondering what would put Shane's mind at ease, as so far the man was his only ally and Harry didn't want to lose his trust.

“Well, technically, Magic can do anything. You have to be trained into it however. It's like a muscle. You know some people can run a marathon but not everyone can without the proper training. I was trained in combat and healing techniques while my friend studied all kinds of branches of magic. She would be able to do much more then me in terms of knowledge but my spells would be more powerful because I've practised a specialized branch instead of minimal practice in everything. Understand so far?” Harry watched Shane as he explained, the man nodding along while most of his attention was on the road.

“So, another witch or wizard or whatever could do something you can't, because they've learned how. Like job specialization and collage courses.” Shane seemed a little unsure of his understanding but Harry smiled and nodded enthusiastically in agreement. “Exactly. I trained to be a Healer before coming here, So I know more about medicine then the average wizard, while my friend trained to be an Auror, which is sort of like an FBI Agent for Magic, and knew more defensive and offensive magic. I know plenty of spells but some are useless. I doubt I’ll ever need to turn a needle into a matchstick anytime soon.” Harry chuckled at his small joke, glad that the tension seemed to have slowly dissipated.

The fact that Shane was even willing to discuss Magic was a good sign. There had been more then enough proof that Harry was telling the truth so the only really thing the wizard could do was explain and hope Shane believed him. “So that wand, what happens if you lose it?” Shane looked much more interested in the subject, probably because Harry was keeping the tone to a more serious and sincere vibe, the cars ahead of them slowing down as they came into a car snarl around a gas station on the side of the road.

“Like any other tool it would make it's purpose, in this case using Magic, more difficult to do. Wandless magic isn't unheard of but it takes years to master. I can do a little bit but most of my spells would be inaccessible. Luckily I've mastered the retrieval spell if I ever lose it. Unless someone breaks it or burns it I shouldn't have a problem with losing my wand.” The cars ahead of them slowed to a stop, lining up on the shoulder, a bit a ways from the traffic snarl. Daryl dismounted his motorcycle at the front of the line, moving towards Dale’s camper.

“I wonder what's up.” Shane said, looking at Harry pointedly with a semi serious expression. “Stay here.” The man grabs the gun next to him and steps out of the jeep. “Sure. I’ll watch the Jeep I suppose.” Harry watched the Deputy walk towards where the drivers of the convoy were converging. The wizard politely kept his hearing to himself. It would be rude to snoop and spy on the group with a listening charm when he was attempting to gain their trust. It would be good to keep that kind of magic up his sleeve for later anyway.

It was only a few minutes before Shane was walking back. People started exiting their vehicles and heading towards the traffic snarl. Harry watched curiously, waiting for Shane to explain, and he didn't have to wait long. “We're running low on fuel. The plan is to siphon anything we can find here, then move into the least amount of vehicles we can fit in to conserve fuel. We're moving on to Fort Benning. There was a military blockade there and, even if it might be over run, the sturdy building and supplies would help a lot.”

Everyone seemed to be moving their supplies into the RV, freeing up seats in the other vehicles, while the rest were snooping around the gas station. Harry stepped out of the jeep, watching the group move, and seeing a pattern. The group was planning to keep the biggest vehicles so the small two seat jeep would probably be abandoned here. Moving to the back Harry watched Shane load up his arms with supplies, the back of the jeep holding the weapons and various linens, and Harry offered his assistance. “Would you like some help?” Shane looked at him briefly, then towards the group who hadn't approached them yet, before nodding. “Sure. Just keep your head down until we can explain this magic thing to the group.”

Harry smiled in relief, glad at least Shane was on his side and on board with him sticking with the group, and grabbed some of the heavier bags. Pulling his wand out he began casting feather-light charms on the bags. Harry would have just shrank them, better at reduction charms, but wasn't sure how the fire arms and ammo would react to magic. Now was not the time to find out either. Shane returned from his first load and grabbed one of the heavy bags, readied to lift it, then staggered back at the light weight it now had. Regaining his footing, the man smiled in wonder at Harry. “Well, I do have to say, that's pretty handy. Can you do that to anything?”

Harry shrugged, finishing with the bags and putting his wand away, before grabbing a few bags to carry as well. Some of the group were looking at them oddly, carrying enough weight for four or five people, heading towards the RV to unload. “The charm needs something organic to latch onto. Burlap, wool, linen, some sort of cloth is preferable but I suppose I could try it on other things. Metal isn't a popular choice in the magical world.” Dale met them at the door of the RV, letting Shane on, and reaching out for Harry's bags.

“Sorry son but I can't let you in. Rick wants to talk to you before we move on.” The older man did look apologetic, then surprised at how light the weapon bags were that the wizard handed over, Harry knowing that making a fuss wouldn't end well. “It's alright Dale, can’t say I’m surprised, I'm just grateful Shane stopped to help in penance for using my supplies on his neck.” Harry stepped back, glad to see Dale accepting the explanation for Shane stopping for him without suspicion. He didn't want his ally on the outskirts with the group for helping the wizard if they ended up leaving Harry here. “Everything is gunna be fine, Dale. Why don’t we help with looking for gas for now, huh?” Shane stepped back out of the RV and gestured Harry to follow him.

With the jeep now unloaded Harry looked over the area and spotted most of the group in the snarl of cars looking for supplies and gas. Merle and Daryl were at the front of the vehicles, looking over the motorcycle and in an argument of sorts, arms waving and voices loud. It looked peaceful enough, probably a sibling squabble, so he left them alone to sort it out. Lori and Carol were in the RV watching the children, looking at him from the side window as Harry and Shane walked by. He gives a small smile and a wave, only getting stares back, heading out towards the rest of the scavenging group with the Deputy. They wouldn't stay here long, risking the Dead swarming them as they lingered, but Harry was positive he could find something useful to foster good will between himself and the group.

Some of the vehicles were locked with supplies inside and none of the group bothered to take the time to try and pick the lock or risk the noise of breaking the window. Using his wand Harry cast unlocking charms at the doors while opening the trunk and finding some camping supplies. It was all bulky and stuffed in tight, Harry unsure if the group needed any of it, and found a butane gas bottle next to a portable cooking element. Looking around Harry spots T-Dog as the closest to him, waving frantically to get his attention.

“Hey, you guys need a Butane cooking plate?” T-dog looked at him curiously, but with a bit of reserve, before approaching. Looking into the car boot T-Dog gave an impressed whistle. “Well look at that. How'd you get the door open?” Amy and Andrea had wandered over as well, the three of them eagerly loading up the canned food found underneath the bulky tent and butane tank. Harry stood back, letting them pick what they wanted before gathering up the rest. “I unlocked it. With Magic.”

T-Dog snorted at the explanation, obviously taking it as a joke, the group leaving behind the clothing and bulky camping supplies. Harry snagged a set of cooking pans and spatula for his bottomless bag, adding it to his cooking supplies, as well as the tent. If he ever had the chance to cook real food and not canned stuff, he was ready with his stock pile. He took the clothing as well, already having a large collection, planning to use the clothing that didn't fit for bandages if he ran out.

The group was starting to reconvene back at the RV, looking like only the car the Grimes family had, the RV, and the motorcycle would be coming with them. Merle was at the bike, strapping a gun and supplies where Daryl's crossbow had been, the brothers apparently agreeing to switch spots when they started back up.

Harry slowly drifted through the stalled cars, unsure if he'd be welcomed, but approached when Shane waved him over. It looked like they'd been talking for a while Harry was busy with unloading the car as the group was looking at him oddly. “I've explained what you told me in the jeep, but they want proof before we decide what to do.” Merle and Daryl were watching him the closest, making Harry a bit nervous, but he drew his wand at the request anyway. “What would you like me to do?”

Dale stepped forward at the question, offering what looked to be a vehicle part. The hood of the RV was open with Glenn standing next to it. “Can you fix this? Shane said you could do anything with Magic, right? It would help us out a lot and we'd be in your debt.” Harry looked curiously at the piece, seeing cracks and erosion that had been attempted at being fixed. It looked like a small crack away from falling apart.

“Can you tell me what it's supposed to look like or do? I'll have a better chance of doing it right and not changing it into something else.” Dale looked intrigued at the idea of changing something into something else but quickly launched into explanation on what the part was for and what parts needed to be mended. Nodding along, Harry listened closely and looked at the part that seemed to be held together with hopes and dreams.

“Alright, I'll give it a go. I hold no promises that it will work though, since I don’t really know very much about engines. It would be a piece of cake if this was eyeglasses.” Harry pointed his wand at a crack and made sure to have a firm image of what he wanted the part to be able to do before casting the repair charm. Usually this charm was for small things, in Harry's case most often to fix his glasses, and it took a couple castings to fix all the little cracks and erosion. People watched on as seams came back together into smooth metal, parts bulked back out into factory standard, until it looked like it could be found on a store shelf.

“There. It should work good as new, hopefully, unless there is something inside I don’t know about.” Most of the group looked wide eyed at him, having believed the explanation of him being a wizard to be a joke, while curiously the Dixon brothers just gave him a wary glare. Harry remembered Shane mentioning that Merle and Daryl believed in Voodoo, which was incorrectly regarded as dark Magic, and made a note to himself to tackle that hurdle when there was time.

Dale and Glenn had eagerly taken the new part and installed it into the engine before trying to start it. The RV turned over like a dream, much to the group's relief, and Rick offered his hand to Harry. “I can’t speak for everyone but I'd be more then happy to have you with us Harry. We've been holding onto the RV by the skin of our teeth since the Quarry and you just might have saved it for us. We won't reject your help even if it's some sort of Magic.” Harry grinned with relief, taking Rick’s hand in a brief shake. “I’m happy to be useful, Rick, and even more happy to not be left behind.” Harry followed Shane's lead into loading onto the RV. It was a tight fit, even with Carol and Sophia riding with the Grimes in the car, Harry more then happy to sit on the bed in the back that was covered in supplies with Daryl to free up room.

The convoy started up again, heading away from Atlanta with Merle in the lead on the motorcycle and Rick’s car at the back, Fort Benning their hopeful destination if the gas would hold up and nothing got in their way before then.

Chapter Text

The RV was quiet as they drove out of Atlanta. They were on the side of the road on a major highway, because there wasn't a pile up of abandoned cars on it. It took a bit of time to loop around the city without getting stuck in any traffic snarls but soon they were on the right road to bring them to their possible new home. Fort Benning was miles away and they had nothing to do but sit and wait.

The Grimes family, Carol, and Sophia were in the car following behind the RV, while Merle opted to drive the motorcycle on his own at the lead. This left Dale at the wheel of the RV with Glenn and T-Dog sitting shotgun to help direct with the map. Shane, Andrea, and Amy were sitting at the tiny folding table cleaning weapons, Shane teaching the girls how to use their father's gun, with Jacqui sitting near the door watching the road go by.

This left Harry sitting in the back on the bed with Daryl surrounded by all the collected supplies. It had been a tight fit getting them all into the RV but desperate times called for desperate measures. Daryl sat on the corner of the bed near the bathroom door with his crossbow across his lap. It was currently unloaded but Harry kept his distance anyway, sitting on the other side of the room and taking the chance to rest while he could.

Harry could hear the others talking quietly at the front of the RV but was more then happy to keep to himself, even if Daryl's frequent staring was starting to creep him out. Harry never caught the bowman doing it but whenever he returned to resting his eyes and relaxing back against a rolled up sleeping bag Harry could feel the gaze boring into him.

“Hey...” Daryl's voice was quiet like he didn't want the others knowing he was talking to Harry. The wizard looked up at the bowman, gaze sleepy but attentive, wondering what was bothering the man. Daryl hadn’t really talked to him since the whole CDC situation.

“Yes Daryl? You need something?” Harry thought it would be polite to ask as maybe Daryl needed his assistance. The Dixon looked away briefly, looking as if he was debating if he should continue his thought, before looking back at Harry.

“That stick... It's like a Gris-gris bag, huh?” Harry blinked at the question, remembering Shane had mentioned Voodoo with the Dixon's earlier, and was glad to be able to nip this belief in the bud before misconceptions ran amok. Daryl looked very serious however, as if this question would decide something for him, so Harry knew to keep his answer sweet and simple.

“Well, yes, and no. It depends on what you mean by Gris-gris bag. My wand was made by taking natural components and combining them in a way that can channel magic. The ingredients themselves are neither evil nor good in design, only the intentions of the user can be taken into account. A wand is a tool to be used as the user intends. A knife can free a trapped animal but it can also kill it.” Daryl was looking at him intensely, as if he could see into Harry's very soul if he wanted to, before looking away with a nod. The Dixon seemed to relax a bit, some tension leaving his shoulders, rubbing at his lower lip with the tip of his thumb in what looked like a nervous habit.

“Didn't kill nothin' for it, right?” Daryl didn't look at him at the question, seeming to be a bit shy. Harry could tell the group hadn't thought too highly of finding out the Dixons believed in Voodoo just from that reaction. Smiling in reassurance Harry turned his whole focus on Daryl, wanting to make a connection with the rest of the group one by one if need be.

“Of course not. Wands are crafted by professional wand makers and given to children on their eleventh birthday when they are ready to learn magic. It's not a toy, nor can it be properly called a weapon. I rarely use it to kill the Dead, and never the living if I can help it. Dark times we are in, Daryl.” The bowman had looked at him darkly at the mention of needing to kill the living but didn't remark on it.

“Well, good. Don’t want no demon dealing witch comin’ with us.” Daryl turned from Harry, leaning back with his crossbow held loosely and closing his eyes. It appeared that the conversation was done then. Harry could only smile, a little charmed by the gruff but shy personality, and settled back as well. The atmosphere was much more relaxed and Harry managed to fall into a nap.

It wasn't too long into their journey that they hit another traffic snarl. This time, the cars were piled across both sides of the highway, the median between housing burnt husks and trucks that had gotten stuck trying to go around. Harry was roused from his nap when the RV stopped, awareness coming back sharply at the possible threat of being stranded. He shuffled after Daryl to look out the front window and frowned at the blockade stopping their progress. Merle moved between the cars on his motorcycle, squeezing in where the RV couldn't go, looking for a path they could clear, then moving back to them.

“Ain't no way through. Just a mess a' junk and corpses. Dumb Bastards.” Harry could hear the Dixon through Dale's open window, the motorcycle moving down the line to inform Rick. A discussion started, taking into account the amount of fuel left and if they could take a detour, before they moved into the snarl as far as they could and started to climb out of the RV.

Rick is already outside with Lori and Carl directing people to look for cars that have fuel left and to try to find the easiest way to clear a path through the broken vehicles so they could continue on. Dale and Glenn kept back near the RV seeing what parts might be needed soon and if they could find any in the snarl while they are stuck here.

Harry kept behind, letting the group move to do what they needed to, before climbing out of the RV. He passed Andrea seated at the tiny table, fiddling with gun pieces, before stepping out onto the tarmac. It was nice and sunny out, a good clear day for scavenging and scouting, and Harry moved toward where the mothers and kids were.

Carl was curiously looking through the cars, poking into open windows and being a curious boy, while Sophia stuck close to her mother. Both women turned to look at Harry as he approached. For the most part the group had left him to his own devices since moving on from the CDC so Harry thought it would be good to familiarize himself with everyone while they had some time.

“Exploring?” Harry nods towards Carl who seemed to be digging around the cab of a truck. Lori just sighed, looking the picture of a mother who knew her child would get into everything if left unattended. “He's just trying to be helpful though it makes me nervous having them out of sight. You looking for supplies too?”

The woman had a stance about her, almost cocky but insecure, and it rubbed Harry the wrong way reminding him too much of Ginny. There was a reason he'd left his school sweetheart behind him. “Thought I might was well make myself useful while we're stuck. Nothing to do sitting around the RV anyway.” Harry poked his head into the car beside them, rooting through the glove compartment and under the seats. He'd mastered finding hidden goodies in the days following going on the run.

Reaching under the seats he skims along and feels a metal box. Yanking, he tugs it free and spots the red cross across the plastic sealed tin. An emergency kit, the kind people buy for cheap, stash in their cars, then forget about them. Not even opened. It would probably have a decent pair of medical scissors, bandages, burn cream, and antiseptic. “Jackpot!”

Carol and Lori looked at him in surprise, seeing the emergency kit in his hands, before smiling softly. Lori approached him, body posture easy and curious, but still keeping one eye on the roaming boy. “You know how to use the stuff in there?” She nods towards the box gaze a little skeptical. Harry blinked, looking at the box, then rolling his eyes.

“I didn't lie about being a doctor. I can just do more with magic. I can still wrap bandages, clean wounds, and keep a fever from going into dangerous temperatures. This will probably do more good in my hands then anyone else around here.” While Harry didn't doubt some of the group had first aid experience he was positive none of them would know what to do if say someone broke a foot or got shot. Except maybe the Dixon brothers from personal experience. Harry was confident he could cement his place in the group for nothing else then his medical skills.

Carol was quick to step in seeing an altercation brewing between Harry and Lori. “We didn't doubt your skills Harry. We were just surprised you'd need supplies when you have magic. It can heal wounds, right?” Harry was grateful to the woman for defusing the situation. It felt like she had more practice with that then anyone should really. Lori took her cue to back off a bit, though her arms were crossed and body language closed off. Harry would make sure to steer clear of the woman as much as he could, even if he did like Rick and Carl, since he could tell he would clash a lot with Lori. It would be Draco Malfoy all over again.

Harry took his back pack and positioned the emergency pack with his other supplies, smiling gratefully to Carol. “I can to a degree. I can heal a small wound from, say, a bullet, but if the bullet was stuck inside the wound all magic would do is close over the metal bits. Magic tends to work better against magical maladies. I'd still need to remove the bullet and most things are best done by hand if possible. Magic is a wonderful tool but it can also be unreliable in a non-magical situation. It feeds from emotion and high stress can cause a reaction you weren’t expecting so it’s best to keep the fine details for trustworthy means.”

Carol and Lori seemed to be listening curiously until Rick comes running over. He's down low, creeping, voice a harsh whisper. “Lori! Get Down!” The woman and children were quick to follow Rick's orders, despite the confusion on what was going on. Harry ducks low, looking over the car window and spots the hoard of Dead walking between the cars and across the median. They must have followed the sound of the car engines, loud in the otherwise silent midsummer day, and caught up with them when the RV got stuck.

Harry took a brief moment to catalogue were everyone is, seeing Daryl, T-dog, Jaqcui and Merle further down scrambling for a spot to hide. Glenn and Shane were near a water truck, hiding underneath it, with Dale, Andrea, and Amy on or in the RV. The RV with its door wide open. A door the Dead were walking past.

Harry would blame his saving people thing for what he did next. First, he drew his wand, ignoring Rick's frantically waving hand trying to get him to duck for cover. Then, he aimed and shot a locking charm at the door of the RV. It slammed shut, drawing the attention of the Dead nearby but most of them continued their slow march towards them. The light attracted attention to him so he started running, cutting to the side and drawing some of the dead away from the group hiding under the vehicles.

Harry was quicker on his feet then most people, used to running away from Dudley, and utilizing that lean body for his position as Seeker for 6 years. He didn't bother to try for the trees, knowing the branches and foliage would hinder him more then help, and ran along the shoulder of the road instead. Harry was slowly gaining distance from the dead until an arm snagged him from the wreck of cars.

Harry was seconds away from casting a cutting hex at whatever had grabbed him until Merle's face registered and not some rotting yellow teeth. The Dixon was quick to shove him into the back of a truck that had the tailgate down then pulled a corpse over them to mask their scent. The growling mob moved past them, looking for him and failing as his scent disappeared under the stench of decay, moving endlessly forward in the direction he had been running.

Harry was face to face with Merle, close quarters by necessity, clutching his wand like a life line. The area was slowly returning to the quiet mid-day sounds except for their soft breathing and the sound of the dead shuffling on. A soft snicker started up as the herd drifted off causing Harry to look up at Merle's smirking face from his position pressed into the man’s chest.

“Got some balls on ya. I'll give ya that Witch Boy. Don't know what you planned on doin' after getting ya' self set up as live bait but ole Merle saved your ass just the same.” Harry frowned, cautiously sitting up and shoving the corpse off them. The herd had moved on, with a few stragglers at the back, Harry careful to keep his head low. He spots movement back near the RV as the group returned to the safety of the vehicles.

He scrambles over Merle, extra careful to knee him in the stomach for the Witch comment, grabbing his pack and starting to weave between the cars back to the group. “Come on Hillbilly Trash, Let's see the damage.” He gets a pained chuckle from Merle, though Harry does hear the man moving to follow him, and he sighed a little to himself. It would probably be best not to taunt the other man until he clear up the Voodoo Witch thing with the older Dixon. Harry didn’t want to be stuck with Witch Boy as his nickname.

Carol was in hysterics when Harry and Merle managed to return to the RV and the group. Rick and Sophia were missing, gone into the woods with the Dead on their tail, while Daryl was last to return with T-Dog leaning on his shoulder. The man's arm was bloody, the wound looking like a jagged stab and not a bite mark thankfully. Jacqui was also missing, the despondent look on T-Dog face and closed off expression from Daryl was proof enough of her fate.

Harry was quick to act, going into Healer mode automatically in the presence of the injured, letting the group comfort Carol. Rick was out with the missing girl and the group was quickly setting up a group to go after the Sheriff so that situation was currently being handled. “Hold him still Daryl. I need to tourniquet the wound.” The man was losing blood much too quickly. It would be bad news if T-Dog managed to nick an artery in his arm. Finding a rubber tube was easy enough in his pack, quickly tying it off above the wound to stall blood flow. Harry would rather keep his blood replenishing potions for dire emergencies.

With Daryl's assistance Harry managed to get T-Dog into a stable sitting condition against the side of a car setting the arm in his lap and his backpack beside him. Time to get to work. The group watched him at a distance, glad someone knew decent first aid and had effective means of medicine, but focused on the more pressing matter. T-Dog was barely conscious, clinging to wakefulness with adrenaline, eyes having trouble focusing.

Harry made quick work of cleaning the wound, careful to make sure no debris or dirt was left in the cut to create infection and no major arteries or veins had been cut, before pulling out a needle and thread. While he did know a spell to stitch up a wound it could easily go wrong by only healing the surface skin and letting the wound bleed underneath the closed wound. T-Dog didn't have the blood to spare for a miscalculation. A quick numbing spell to keep T-Dog from flinching at the needle and Harry was ready to start. It was slow going but Harry was meticulous in his stitches, ignoring the people around him and focusing on his job, mind blocking anything that wasn’t a threat.

Once the stitching was finished Harry cast a mild healing charm to keep them in place and hasten the healing process then carefully bandaged the arm with a potion to help stop infection. The entire process must have taken longer then he anticipated because when Harry finally returned his attention to the people around him Daryl, Merle, Shane, and Glenn were now also gone.

Dale was nearby fiddling with the RV, apparently replacing some parts with ones he'd found in one of the vehicles, and was in easy ear shot. “Hey, Dale?” The older man looked up in surprise, perhaps not having expected to hear him, but gave Harry a fond smile in return.

“Yes Harry? All done fixing up T-Dog? We all thought it best to leave you too it since you seemed adamant to help him and wouldn’t rouse when we called out.” Dale gestured to the others who seemed to be scavenging the cars around the highway while they waited for the others to return. Carol was the odd one out standing at the shoulder of the road and staring into the woods. Andrea and Amy were still in the RV, door closed, sitting in the front seats.

Harry quickly packed his supplies back up, making sure nothing soiled with blood was mixed in, then gave T-Dog a helping hand up. The man was more awake now after getting a bit of rest and letting his body come down from the endorphin and adrenaline high. “Yep. He should be right as rain if given the time to heal. No straining that arm for a few days and popping stitches.”

Harry helped direct T-Dog towards the RV hoping to let him rest for a bit inside while the group was busy looking for Sophia and Rick. Dale met him at the door, a look of amusement on his face, before gesturing to the door. “None of us can get the door open, inside or outside. Key doesn't work and neither did lock picks. We're grateful what you did to save Andrea and Amy but we're hoping you can reverse it, Son.”

Harry blinked at the situation, a little surprised the locking charm was still holding after such a long time, as he hadn't meant to put so much power into it. The stress of the moment probably caused his magic to over react. Giving Dale a sheepish look Harry pulls out his wand and quickly unlocked the door. The lock clicked and the door swung open slowly, like it had never been locked in the first place, letting a relieved Andrea and Amy out of the RV. “Sorry about that. Magic can be a bit finicky.”

“I'm just glad it works as good as it does. The walkers didn't stand a chance getting in.” Andrea gave him a grateful look, Amy behind her with a soft smile, the pair moving aside so Harry could bring T-Dog into the RV. “It was no trouble. If you can't run faster then a shambling corpse then you're just food at this point. Merle helped a bit too I guess.” Harry smiled a little shyly not really used to genuine praise.

The Wizarding World had been grateful of course but the public had always been a double edged sword. There were days he couldn't leave his house without being accused for crimes and others he couldn't leave for all the marriage proposals. It skewed his perception of gratefulness to always having a darker side. Thankfully the sisters left it at that and focused on getting gas out of the cars while making room for the RV to turn around so they could find an alternate route around or through the blockade.

After placing T-Dog on the small seat with a table in the RV Harry readied himself to join the group scavenging, but was stopped by a hand on his arm. T-Dog looked like death warmed over, pale and drowsy from blood loss, but the gratefulness and appreciation was clear in his expression. “Listen, You didn't have to do that. Use supplies on me. I'm not saying I'm not happy you did, but I'm thanking you for it. I owe you my life. Drawing those walkers away... It didn't...” T-Dog paused, emotion over taking him, but Harry didn't interrupt. T-Dog would talk in his own time.

T-Dog took in a long breath, eyes watery, but continued on. “I couldn't save Jacqui. She...got bit, drew them off when she saw my arm. Daryl came in for a couple but you... you drew the rest. I can't... thank Jacqui, but I promise you, from the core of myself, I will not waste that sacrifice.” Harry could see that T-Dog had reached his limit, so he reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I do what I do because it's the right thing. I know she would be happy that you made it out from that with nothing but a cool scar to show for it.” T-Dog gave a weak smile, which Harry shared with him, before the wizard gave him a heavy pat on the shoulder and stepped back.

“Stay here and rest for however long you need. We'll be here until Rick and Sophia return so we have time. Call out if anything feels funny.” T-Dog gave him a nod, slumping into the seat tiredly. “Will do Doc.” Harry just smiled at the nickname, which was better by far than Witch boy, and stepped out of the RV. He was just in time to see Merle, Shane, and Glenn come from the tree line.

No one was panicking or melancholic so Daryl and Rick should still be fine at least. Carol was the first to reach them, asking about her daughter, only to get a biting response from Merle and a regretful one from Shane. It seemed Rick and Daryl would keep looking but Shane and the others had been sent back to keep up damage control. Sophia was still missing.

Merle stormed up onto the highway looking peeved and a little slighted. Someone looked like they didn't enjoy playing second fiddle to their younger sibling. He marched up to the motorcycle, looking ready to get on and ride out of there, but Harry quick to walk up to the irate man. He kept his gait casual, open and non-threatening, but a bit teasing. “So, you got picked last for dodge ball and your going to go sulk, huh?”

Merle turned to look at him, a frightful sneer across his face, and Harry could tell something not so pleasant was about to be said. He had enough practice at this with Draco Malfoy to know. “That girl's dead. Ain't no reason to put our necks on the line for one pointless little girl. She'd a died anyway, world like it is. Just wastin' everyone's time and energy.” Merle leaned towards him threateningly itching for a fight. Harry glanced at the others quickly, seeing Carol's devastated face and Shane's angry one, the Deputy looking ready to come over and beat some manners into Merle.

Harry acted quickly, drawing his wand and casting a quick first year charm. Merle hadn't seen it coming, too used to bar fights and muggle weapons, to react to the bright light aimed for his chest. The Dixon began to uncontrollably tap dance, moving away from any blockages and into a more open area for elaborate dance moves.

The group looked on wide eyed, some confused, some amused, and some grateful. Merle had an attitude and superiority problem, mostly stemming from a deep rooted insecurity and possible trauma, but Harry was used to knocking down entitled pricks a peg. “Well see, I think you're wrong Merle. Now, more then ever, we need to protect the future. Children are the future. All you're doing is wasting people's time and energy having them listen to your temper tantrum. Why don't you burn some of that negative energy off and we can have an adult conversation after.”

Merle's response was to spew large amounts of profanity, most of it directed to Harry, Harry's family origins, and how he was a she-devil of a witch. Quite frankly all it did was make Harry chuckle and send a silencing charm at the man. There was no need to let children and civilized folks listen to that. Carol looked gratefully at him, giving him a quiet nod before turning back to watch the forest, ever hopeful for her daughter’s return.

Shane walked up to him amused to no end by Merle tap dancing his way down the line of cars. Glenn was following the Dixon with much glee, half to watch the spectacle and half to make sure the Dixon didn't attract unwanted attention. “So, I'm guessing you learned that in wizard school too? Not sure what the practical application of that could be.” The man's voice was full of laughter barely keeping his face serious for conversation. Harry just shrugged, putting his wand away and letting Merle suffer for a bit.

“You put hundreds of children together in a boarding school with magic sticks and teach them spells that can severely injure each other? It's best to give them a less deadly alternative if they feel like hexing a bully.” The group seemed to settle once the irate Dixon had been dealt with, people discussing what to do when Rick and Daryl returned with Sophia. Harry looked out at the forest before striding up to Carol. The woman didn’t ignore him but she didn’t turn from her vigil. “Hey, Carol? Want to see something neat?” Harry waited for the woman to look at him before bringing his wand up in the palm of his hand. “ Point Me, Sophia Peletier.” The wand spun once then pointed towards the left. It juggled a bit, angling up then down, showing movement. “This spell doesn’t work if what your looking for doesn’t exist or if they have died.”

Carol looked wide eyed at the wand before slow tears tracked down her cheeks. “She’s out there. I knew it!” The woman turned and eagerly gripped Harry’s arms, making the wizard a little uncomfortable, but drawing the group towards them. “What’s this then?” Shane pointed at the wiggling floating wand in Harry’s hand. The wizard carefully extracted himself from Carol’s clinging hands before addressing the Deputy. “The Point Me spell. It shows you what direction the object or being your looking for is in. Sophia is that way, somewhere.” Harry gestured to where the wand was pointing. “What?! Really?” Carl exclaimed excitedly. “Then we can go get her!” Lori kept the boy from rushing up to Harry in his excitement, but also looked happy at the news. “There is still a bit of daylight left. You could pick up Rick and grab Sophia with that spell, right?”

Harry looked at the relieved, excited faces around him and felt a little overwhelmed. He wanted Sophia safe as well but it was just a relief to see his magic to easily accepted. It loosened the knot of anxiety deep in his gut that had been winding tighter and tighter since the news at the CDC. “I suppose though we should probably hurry. If we get stuck in the forest during the night we might have to find somewhere safe to stay until sunrise.” The morale of the group was at a new high, Glenn rushing to the RV to get flashlights while the others discussed what weapons to bring. “I found this!” Carl dragged over a tool bag filled with hunting knives and a small hatchet. Shane was quick to give the tools to Dale after letting Glenn take a knife. He had been elected to go with Harry to find Rick and Daryl. “So, first stop Rick?” Glenn asked the slightly taller wizard.

Harry nodded but caught sight of movement in the corner of his eye. Tap-dancing Merle seemed to be running out of steam. “Yeah, just, one moment? I probably shouldn’t leave Merle like that.” The group chuckled but let Harry approach the Dixon without following. Everyone was still a little wary of the volatile older brother. The sun was slowly descending, afternoon turning into evening, when Harry finally let the exhausted Dixon stop dancing.

Harry kept the silence charm on for a bit as he saw the words pouring from Merle's mouth as he slumped in exhaustion onto the tarmac. “So, we ready to have an adult conversation now?” Harry crouched next to the Dixon, who gave him a scathing look but gave no comment. Harry released the silence spell and was surprised when Merle remained quiet and didn't start up the profanity again.

They sat quietly for a moment as the sky turned from blue to a light yellow-pink as the sun started it’s descent. It was eerily serene despite the situation of the world around them. The silence was broken when Merle finally spoke up, voice quiet and exhausted. “Never had a punishment that didn't hurt before.” Harry looked at the Dixon, but Merle was looking at the treeline.

Harry didn't have to ask what that meant, more then aware that sometimes the past hurt too much to talk about, and just nodded in response. “It wasn't a punishment. Think of it as a wake up call. There isn't any room for lone wolves in this pack. I don't want to see you and your brother leave over petty disputes. We don't have the time for Sunday afternoon dramas.” Merle just kept quiet, neither acknowledging what Harry had said or refuting it. It was probably a rare thing for the Dixon to get a quiet moment.

They sat for a moment more before Merle turned to Harry. There was a ghost of the teasing, insensitive man Harry had first seen but it looked like a struggle to pull it up. “You are one mysterious guy Witch Boy. Never seen no one treat a grown man like that before.”

Harry just gave a small smile, eyes full of mischief. “If you're going to act like my toddler godson then I’m going to treat you like one. I don't respond to temper tantrums with violence. I find embarrassment to be a much bigger motivator for change. Did it work?” Merle's smirk grew a bit more into a real smile, forcing a chuckle. “You calling me a Toddler, Boy? I'm older then you.”

Harry just grinned, standing and offering a hand to help Merle up. “Sure, you're a big baby. A sissy, as you'd probably say. There isn't any problem with that either. I'd rather a baby then a jackass.” Merle just snorted, taking the hand and standing on wobbly legs. It would take a while to get his legs back to normal after all that forced exercise. “Ain't no sissy, Witch.” Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, promising himself to deal with it later, but gestured at the waiting group. “We have a little girl to find. You weren’t there when I showed it off but I have a spell that can track down Sophia and your brother. I’m sure Glenn won’t mind the extra protection in the woods?” Harry carefully nudged the Dixon back into the group while Merle looked down at him with a thoughtful look. It was odd seeing the Dixon without a smug grin and sneer.

A slow smirk took over Merle’s face, his usual overconfident smug look, but the sharp edges had been smoothed down. “Well, I guess some’n gonna have to be there to watch that ass of yers. Don’t want you making yerself bait again, not before I get a second crack at the lava whiskey.”

Harry just laughed, partially at Merle and partially at Glenn’s dismayed face when he discovered that Merle would be coming with them, taking his wand out. “I’m sure by the time we get back, I’ll have saved you at least once. Can’t have that hanging over my head, indebted to Merle Dixon. Yikes.” Harry gave a fake shiver as Merle laughed in turn. The easy banter was nice after the prickly encounters from before.

Harry quickly cast the Point Me Spell, this time after Daryl Dixon. The wand pointed mostly straight, showing that Rick and Daryl were a little too far from finding Sophia for Harry’s tastes. Some day he would deal with his Saving People Thing but not before he found a little girl much too young to be alone. “Shall we go then?” Merle just shrugged, grabbing his machete and jumping over the guard rail of the road and heading towards the woods. Glenn gave a miserable sigh but slowly started after the Dixon. Harry looked at the group watching them leave, smiling reassuringly at Carol. “Doubt worry, we’ll be back before you know it.”