Someone must have broken the window. There was little doubt about that, since Neville had been the only person to use this building consistently over the last four years ever since the muggles had sent that virus out into the open. Something had obviously gone wrong, Neville didn't think they would do something like this on purpose. They wouldn't kill thousands of their own for no apparent reason. They wouldn't sicken the only world they had, because the world was decaying, dying slowly with the increase in the number of zombies.
Neither did Neville think that this was some sort of elaborate prank. There had simply been too many people who had died already, or turned into something that was as good as dead despite the fact that they walked and moved around. They were mindless beasts who only attacked anyone they saw, no matter their past relationship. London had become little more than a battleground, and Neville wasn't even sure if Hogwarts was safe anymore. He hadn't received an owl from them in months, and no word was usually bad news, Neville had learned.
Luna came over occasionally. Neville didn't know exactly where she stayed for the rest of the time, nor how she managed to wander passed those armies of zombies that seemed to fill every corner, but Neville was glad for her occasional company. He was sure he would have gone mad already if not for that, despite the fact that some questioned Luna's sanity in itself. Nevertheless, it was a nice relief from repeatedly hearing his own voice, simply to fill the silence.
Neville's wand rose to quickly fix the broken glass, and cast a notice-me-not spell on the window while he was at it. The spell wouldn't last for long, but long enough for the cleanliness of the window not to be too noticeable in comparison to the rest of the rundown building. If the window had been only slightly broken, he probably would have let it be to add to the effect of no one living here. Because this was his home now. It had protected him just as Longbottom Manor had protected him before the first zombie had wormed its way through the wards. He would protect his home with all he had in return.
Releasing an explosive sigh, Neville hoped it hadn't been a zombie that had broken the window, because tonight he had to head out and try to find supplies. Finding supplies was, perhaps, the worst thing about the entire situation. The zombies had destroyed everything in their path, and even managed to taint the water supply that caused even the plants that had managed to survive their brutality to wither and die.
The idea of planting his own food had been extremely tempting. A simple spell could purify the water, and magic could be used to create the ideal conditions for any plant. He had heard Professor Sprout had tried that, but even Hermione, in all her wisdom, would never have imagined the utter fury the zombies felt towards any sort of greenery. Even the houses that had vines trailing up their crumbled walls had been utterly destroyed, piece by faithful piece, until only rubble lay at the feet of the zombies. Professor Sprout, or what was left of her, ran with the zombies nowadays without a care for the plants and greenery that was once her life.
That was one of the things that made Neville feel terrible about the entire situation. The zombies no longer cared for anything that they had before they were turned. Although, from the zombies' reactions to plants, he would assume that was where the answer lay.
An answer they could find if they were given enough resources and time, neither of which could ever be promised at such a time. Neville wanted to save them, magical and muggle alike, just as he was certain Harry wished too, wherever Harry was.
It would be so simple if they could just create a well-protected place that they could all stay in, taking turns to protect it. It would give them the time they needed to find a solution to this. The fact that they were all split up only made surviving that much more difficult.
Neville glanced out of the window, seeing the curved road that lay beyond it. The road must have been beautiful once, just like the homes had once been. It was growing dark though, and the road that looked so safe in the daylight became nothing more than a treacherous journey in the darkness. Neville had never learned more, not used as much magical knowledge, as he did during these brief journeys.
It was with a great reluctance that Neville left that building hours later. It was a half an hour walk to the safest point of apparition. Neville preferred to get as far away as possible to reduce the likelihood of the zombies finding his home. The fact that the zombies sometimes walked around during the day, was the only reason Neville hadn't seen the sun in around two weeks. The zombies' sense of smell wasn't particularly wonderful due to their own stench, which was the easiest way to tell that they were coming. The groaning sound when they were near only helped.
Evading two frighteningly close zombies weren't as terrifying as they used to be. It was only the fact that Neville could make a mistake at any time that kept him wary of them, and starting a fire to burn their bodies would only draw attention to himself. He usually left that for when he was in a bad mood, and in a different village as well. Those where the moments he allowed himself to wallow in his inability to protect everything he had lost to the muggles, and their idiotic curiosity.
It was in those moments that Neville wanted the lot of them to rot wherever they were. The muggles had little protection against the zombies without magic. Not all of them were to blame for it either…
Neville was greeted with screams.
Fires were running rampant within the village burning people and zombies alike. For a moment, all Neville could do was stare before a falling tree snapped him out of his stupor.
His wand was in his hand moments later, a misty shroud cast to cover his face was cast. The muggles were terrified of everything that wasn't muggle like them nowadays. Neville didn't need them to be scared of him and attack him the next time he met one of them. The muggles remembered the strangest of things.
That wouldn't help him from saving the innocent ones though. He couldn't allow himself to be overcome with that kind of hatred because of the mistakes of a few. That would make him just like them, he people he detested, the people he had never wanted to be even when he had been a meter high child.
He would protect their friends, like no one had been able to protect his own.
He would save their family, like no one had been able to save the family that he had once had.
He would save their homes, like no one had been able to save his childhood one.
Written for The Muggle Appreciation Club: 28 Days Later [Zombie Apocalypse!AU; virus; London]
Written for Pokemon Journey Challenge [curved, prank, wisdom, someone must have broken the window]
Written for Ultimate Chocolate Frog Card Club - Neville Longbottom - [Write about Neville Longbottom]
Written for Divination Assignment 8 [Write about something that cannot be touched]