A/N: Well, I was sitting up late at night reading and listening to a certain movie theme when this little plot bunny struck. So I had to write, and I figured this would make a good first post for my new account. So, here it is, people! I hope you like it. This is also sorta AU, just so you know, in the way that I'm completely disregarding the epilogue. I wish it had been left out, so the future of Harry and friends could be left to us to decide for ourselves. But, well, I guess it still is, else I wouldn't have written this. And this is sort of a cross over with 28 Days Later, but so far only in the way that there are infected. You won't have to have even heard of the movie to read this, though. So, anyway, please do tell me what you think and if this story is good enough to continue. It would be much appreciated.
Disclaimer: And, by the by, I don't own Harry Potter, the Infected, and I'm not making any money off this piece of work. Just having some fun, is all.
Prologue
It was twenty-eight days after the fact, and Harry still couldn't believe it. Voldemort was dead. He had saved the wizarding world. Everyone was safe again. Everything was back to as it should be. He was sad, though, of course. A lot of people had died. But still, it was like a giant weight had lifted from his shoulders, one that had been there ever since his first step into Hogwarts all those years ago. He was free. Free of the prophecy, free of horcrux hunting, free of those blasted dreams… Free of worrying that everything wasn't going to turn out all right. And now he could finally live a normal life. As normal as the savior of the world could, anyway.
He was staying back at Grimmauld Place, for the moment. Things were a bit crowded at the burrow, with Percy, Charlie, Bill, and Fleur staying over. Fred's funeral had been three weeks ago, but the family still felt the need to be together. Molly had wanted him to stay at the over-stuffed home, but Harry had joked lightly that if he did, the house would finally topple over. He still apparated over for most of the day, anyway.
"Mornin' Nev." He spoke sleepily as he entered the kitchen, smiling. Somehow, he felt it would be a good day today.
"Morning Harry." Was the only reply he got; Neville was nose deep in The Daily Prophet, lightly munching on his toast now and again. He'd been staying with Harry since the final confrontation, as his Grandmother's old house had been too big, too quite, and too full of memories for him now that she was gone. She may have been a rotten old biddy now and again, but she was all Neville had since his parents died. Harry looked over his shoulder.
"What're you reading?" He asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Neville never really was one to read the papers much.
"There've been reports of Rioting out in the country." There went his good day, out the window.
"What do you mean, rioting?"
"Well, they aren't able to be very specific because the muggle government and the ministry aren't saying much. It's just... Weird things are going on out there. Mass Hysteria, cases of extreme violence..." Neville's eyes didn't leave the paper once. His expression was one contorted into horror and sadness. Harry gulped. He hoped it wasn't what he thought it was.
"Do... Do you think it could have anything to do with Death Eaters?" That grabbed Neville's attention.
Looking up, he said: "No. Even they don't do things like this." His voice was soft, and he slowly looked back to the article before continuing. "Even though not much is known, there is one case they've been able to verify. Out in Sandford." He stopped, looking hesitant. Taking in a deep breath, he went on. "A man and his wife were found dead four nights ago. They were beaten badly, scratch and bit marks all over them. But, no one was able to find their daughter until the next morning, when she attacked a bloke on the edge of town. A policeman nearby heard screaming and ran to help, but it was already too late. He was dead; and the girl... She was crazed. She was soaked in blood, and she tried to attack the officer. He shot her in the leg, but that didn't stop her. She just kept on coming. So he shot at her again. Got her twice in the opposite kneecap and that slowed her down a bit, but soon she was right on top of him. So he had to kill her. Put a bullet straight in her head." He shuddered slightly as he finished speaking, looking back over to Harry for a reaction.
"Maybe she was a zombie." He said, feigning a solemn look and taking a sip of the coffee Kreacher had set in front of him.
"This isn't something to be joking about, Harry. This could be serious!" Neville shouted.
"And I'm being serious. You never know. It could be like in the movies." Harry grinned, and started to eat his breakfast. Neville shook his head, setting the newspaper down to finish the rest of his food.