CHAPTER ONE
I don't own Harry Potter or The Walking Dead Don't Sue Me This will be slash eventually. Don't I don't like don't read it's simple. I have no beta their might be grammar mistakes deal with it.
It was almost ten years after the end of the second wizarding war when the dead rose. The wizarding world fell quickly. There wasn't a large amount of magicals outside of the European wizarding community, and the Europeans did as they always had, nothing, as they begged for a savior. They begged for the man they had declared a dark lord weeks after he had saved them when the information that he had become Master of Death came out into the light. Even those he thought friends had stepped aside not wanting to be painted with the same brush. So Harry Potter had left.
He packed up all he owned leaving the majority of his gold for his godson Teddy's inheritance when he turned eleven as well as the Black Manor and the Potter family cottage both in the Swedish Alps, before leaving to travel the world. At first Harry was angry at the people who had forced his hand in leaving but then he became apathetic towards them as he realized the opportunity he had been granted to do things he never would have been able to if he had stayed in the U.K. He learned the magical mind arts and wandless magic from a small group of Tibetan Monks, who also helped him lift a self-imposed magical block that he had placed on himself as a child living with the Dursley's. From there he travelled down to China where he learned a variety of martial arts from muggle teachers. He also helped develop an all-encompassing translation charm that lasted for twenty-four hours and had the side effect of making it easier to learn languages. He could speak, read and write, Japanese, Cantonese, Russian, German, French, Spanish, Arabic, Latin, and Portuguese, as well as the two languages he had known before, English and Parseltongue. He could speak and understand Gaelic but couldn't read or write it, the opposite held true for Ancient Greek, Norse and Enochian and he was doing his best to learn Mandarin. He had travelled for a time through the continent of Africa, picking up potion skills as well as medical skills from both magical and muggle traveling doctors. From there he jumped the pond to South America and disappeared into the jungles. He spent time with a magical tribe and learned advanced herbology as well as how to handle a bow and axe. It was in the jungles he found his animagus forms. He had two, not unheard of but uncommon all the same. One of his forms was a large black panther with glowing green eyes; the other was a black dire wolf with the same eyes. After his transformation he was much more graceful and gained an almost predator like aura about himself. His advanced senses carried over to his human form and he was finally able to discard his bottle lens glasses, which greatly improved his looks and fighting skills. He walked out of the South American jungles with two moonsteel daggers and a black wood bow and matching quiver of arrows. He went to Rio de Janeiro where he met a pair of magical twins who found work as thieves. They taught him free running and how to pick apart and place wards in exchange for gold. From South America he went north to the United States of America. Where he learned many things; one of which was how to shoot a firearm the other was how to gamble. A lifetime of directing spells and background knowledge of archery made him a natural sharpshooter. He even ended up purchasing a custom made sniper rifle, a confundus charm to help the process along. He travelled through various states via plane, train, and bus and sometimes even hitch hiking. He picked up various facets of knowledge in different states. He learned how to play blackjack and poker in Nevada, snooker in Texas, took a few cooking classes while in California, before he hopped up to New York where he learned how to play the keyboard and guitar, finding out he had a very nice voice and could carry a tune quite well. He was in New York when the whispers of an epidemic started. At first he ignored it continuing his travels, then he received a letter from an old acquaintance in the U.K and packed up his duffle bag and grabbed his guitar heading for Atlanta because of the rumors of it being set up as a safe zone.
His duffle bag contained clothes and several shrunken trunks, many empty but a few full. One was filled with premade potions as well as quite a few potions ingredients, another held bladed weapons that he couldn't carry on his person in this country, and the final full one had built in preservation charms and was filled with food so that no matter where in the world he ended up he could always make himself a meal. Despite the fact that he no longer aged he didn't look like the little boy who left to travel the world nine and a half years ago. His hair once short and a perpetually messy rats nest was now silky and long, just past his shoulders. He kept most of it pulled back in a low ponytail with the bangs on either side framing his face braided with glossy green, silver, and black beads and feathers, making him look exotic. This was furthered by his intelligent dark green eyes that were almost luminous and constantly lined with black and silver eyeliner. His face was angular but not starved as it once was, slightly feminine but uniquely him. He was still quite short for a male at 5'6 but he had a lithe runner's build. He had collected a few tattoos on his journey; a white lily dripping red dew onto a fancily lettered 'Prongs' on his left calf, the first tattoo he had gotten. The second was its pair; a wolf howling to a northern star on his right calf. He had a bamboo tattoo of the runes for strength, endurance, balance, and peace in Japanese characters down his spine and a normal tattoo of the enochian runic symbol for acceptance on his left hip. The tattoos, body and hair paired with black cargo pants, black hiker's boots and a dark green dress shirt with a black undershirt and a black acoustic guitar strapped to his back gave off a very bad ass vibe. Although Harry had disregarded the initial rumors of the epidemic after Kingsley Shacklebolts letter Harry's self-preservation instincts kicked in. The letter had asked for him to come home and help them but Harry had no want to go back to the U.K and save people who weren't going to help themselves so he booked his ass to Atlanta. He caught a bus to Atlanta and was currently dozing with his duffle bag in his lap and his guitar in the seat next to him.
