That I Should Rise and You Should Not

by rainbow-hat

Spring, season of meetings. Encountering Rick Grimes and his rag-tag family, Harry and his portkey lost friends are left wondering if this is the end of their troubles in a world infested with the undead, or the beginning of them. At least they have each other. Bonds form and new families are made as those who do not rise are buried and burned.

3. Chapter 3

26/06/2017

Fixed a little thing about the Governor. Cause I wrote him having an eye-patch originally but...whoops...got a little ahead of myself in the story-line. :D Thanks for pointing that out ^_^

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Chapter Three

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Morning light broke across the lonely road. Two horses where hobbled nearby stationary vehicles. In a grassy meadow, screams broke the serene crisp air.

"This is your fault!" Ron swung a punch.

Harry took it, feeling the force behind it. Ron meant the power behind it, and the words he levelled along with the swing. Landing on his back Harry stared up at the clear blue sky. He could not feel the pain. Everything was numb. Ron's voice was a distant echo just barely reaching him, but he got the general vibe.

Ginny was dead, because he had not saved her.

It was his fault.

Just like Neville.

"Ronald!" Fred wrenched his brother back, decking him hard. Hard enough that he landed roughly on his own back beside Harry. "For Morgana's sake, it's no one's fault." Fred heaved a shuttering sob before composing himself. "I am so…so…sick of your childish behaviour, grow up. Our little sister is dead. Ronald, where you there? Where we there? When have you EVER been there!"

George joined them. His hand rested on his twin's shoulder and Fred sagged against him.

"This is the new reality we live in, Ron." George shook his head. "Harry does not carry your burdens for you."

Ron's bowed his head. "I…I…I should have gone back for her."

Harry winced. It was so fresh in his mind. The mad rush, the clambering of bodies, everyone madly gathering stuff and pouring out of the shack and his horrified realization that Ginny was not with him. Every inch of him had just boiled and froze at the same time. Why, why Ginny, why? Why would she be so foolish as to go back—

Because she had dropped her wand.

So simple. Any one of them would have done the same thing. He would have. Draco would have. Even Ron would have. It was an instinct to go back for their wand. The look in her eyes when he found her, it said everything—desperation—fear—hope.

The look in her eyes the moment before Sirius had apperated him away, it had said even more.

It had told him to go, to leave, just—please—leave.

That had been the most gut-wrenching thing he had ever seen, even more so than Neville spinning away into the abyss of the portkey's vortex. Ginny's look of utter acceptance. At least she did not hate him.

Harry curled into a ball as George knelt, hugging him and Fred gathered Ron into a tight embrace. They huddled in the wet grass, unable to cry, for tears felt void now, but their grief was conjoined. Harry slowly sagged against George. Feeling was gradually returning to his limbs. His magic uncoiling from its tight, wound up ball in his core, and as it released, the pain snaked through him. It felt as though he had split his skin, and his magic was leaking out like blood.

It had been for nothing though. Ginny was dead. Ginny—his phoenix.

She would not be coming back.

"I'm…I'm…I'm so sorry…"

George cupped his cheek, looking into his eyes. "Harry, listen to me, very carefully…none of us are your responsibility. If anything, you are our responsibility."

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"Will they be all right?" Lori settled down beside Sirius. He lifted his attention from the coffee he sipped, toward the four boys in the middle of the meadow, now curled around each other, hugging their anger and grief out. He nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Ron has a temper. He tends to take it out on Harry, and sadly, Harry let's people walk over him. Fred and George, they're good lads. They'll handle it."

"I'm sorry…" Lori paused, "About Ginny."

Sirius breathed out. His fingers trembled so he tightened his grip on the mug he held and sipped his coffee. The morning was so artfully beautiful. It betrayed the horrible twilight they had experienced. It felt as though it betrayed Ginny. They could not even bury her. He nodded weakly, smiling at Lori.

"Thanks. She will be missed. She was a ray of sunshine."

Across the meadow, Luna and Sam looked as though they were gathering flowers under the watchful eyes of Daryl. Sirius hummed into his mug. Ginny had been Luna's best friend. The girl would find this difficult—perhaps more difficult than the boys in some way. They still had each other. Luna was Luna, her magic was unique and Ginny had understood that.

Sirius shifted as Rick shuffled down beside him, holding his own coffee mug. He looked up, finding Hershel, Skye and Remus had gravitated his way. He checked for Glenn, noticing the young man was aloft the landrover, looking out across the meadows, gun in hand, face stern for such a youth.

Sirius sighed. Kids these days—

"So," Rick sighed, "we're going to need to find a safe place."

Sirius nodded. "Honestly though, where would that be?"

Skye rubbed the back of his neck. "We've been around this area for a while now, we haven't come across anything." He narrowed his lips. "But…" His eyes sought his wife across the meadow, causing his brow to furrow. "It was, a few months back now, that…we…lost our group."

"You had another group?" Rick looked up, suddenly curious. Sirius had to agree, it was always interesting to hear about other groups—and—what happened to them.

Skye winced. "Don't want to talk about it around Sam. She was there when it happened, saw the whole thing. I wasn't…so…I suppose I only got the aftermath. We're only alive because of my parents."

Sirius snorted into his mug. Yeah. Parents. The wonderful, adoring love of parents.

Skye chuckled. "If I'm half the man my father was, then you would have approved of my father, and my mother was a formidable woman. We had quite a group, we tried, you know…and for a while, we were doing really well. I was out scouting one night and when I came back." He fisted his hands. "I returned to our entire camp utterly desolated. We had military with us, with military weaponry. So maybe that was the problem. It attracted to much attention. It was gone. All of it…but that…wasn't…"

He looked away. "I found Sam in a hole. My mother had thrown her in there and covered it with boxes to protect her. I found my mother's body nearby. I found my father without a head. They took his head." Skye frowned. "They took his head. I just…I still cannot understand why they took his head. Why do you do that?"

"Why does anyone do anything these days?" Sirius griped.

"Only consolation is…" Skye rubbed thumb and finger against his eyes wearily. "I never found the bodies of my uncle and aunt, nor a couple of the others in our group. So, I live in hope, you know…that they got out, like us." He shrugged. "You have to live with hope, right?"

Remus settled a hand on Skye's shoulder. "Sam? She saw all this?"

"She heard it. Which was just as traumatizing, being unable to help my mother. Whoever they are they're lead by a man called the Governor. That's all Sam managed to catch."

"So, there are people out there willing to do such things." Sirius twisted his hand around his wand. "All the more reason to find a place to fortify. No offence, Rick, but your wife really needs a good place to give birth."

Hershel nodded in agreement. "Your boy, Draco, I take it he is studying to be…what your people…would consider a doctor?"

"Hmmm?" Sirius rubbed his bristled chin, "I suppose so. He's the closest we have to a medical wizard. It is a pity we don't have more books study gear for him. He and Harry have skills in in healing. Harry simply because his magical core is so strong, so he can adapt to most professions and Draco, well, it was due to necessity I suppose."

"Would you mind if I taught the boy a few things?" Hershel eased down on a nearby log. "I am not a young man any more. While I was only a veterinarian, there are a few things I could teach him."

"Muggle stuff?" Sirius frowned. "I am sure he would be curious to learn. If it helps save lives, he would like to know about it."

"These spells off yours," Rick pulled out his gun, settling it on his knee, "how good are they are killing…well…people?"

"People, not Biters?" Sirius glanced up at Remus. "Hmp, depends…"

Remus scraped a hand through his hair. "Wizards and Witches can be divided into three categories. Dark, Grey, Light. Depending on the intent behind the core magic, a spell can work in several different ways to different wizards and witches."

Hershel had pulled out a pen and paper. Remus chuckled at the elderly gentleman's curiosity.

"Do go on, my boy."

Remus motioned to himself and Sirius. "Sirius is from a very long line of Dark Wizards, though it has taken him quite a while to admit it."

Sirius pouted into his mug. Yes. It had taken him a long time to admit his family heritage. It had taken what had felt like a life-time in Azkaban and the realization he had been left there by the so called Lightest Wizard of them all, for him to embrace his family once more.

He never blamed Dumbledore for it but it had shifted his magic core dramatically and he was sure the old man knew, and continued to keep Harry from him for that reason.

Remus was finally addressing himself, and this was a moment of truth. Sirius tensed slightly.

"And as for myself, well, it is a full moon tomorrow night…" his best friends gaze lifted to the sky thoughtfully.

"Why is that relevant." Rick's own gaze shifted from Remus to the sky.

"You're kidding." Skye almost laughed. "Seriously." The young man poked Remus. "You're a werewolf.

Was it such a surprise the youngest of their little circle had figured it out first—kids theses days—Sirius rolled his eyes.

With a hesitant nod Remus spread his hands. "It is a condition I have had to live with since I was a child. The condition changes my magical core to that of a Dark Wizard."

Rick was gaping up at Remus in disbelief. Sirius clapped the man over the shoulder. "Don't worry, he's pretty harmless…I chain him up and keep him company in my grim form. Also, the Biters don't like him one bit. We're always granted one Biter free night a month. Total bonus!"

Hershel tapped his pen against his small book. "So you are both comfortable with killing then, I guess?"

"I wouldn't say comfortable, but we can, if we must." Remus shrugged.

"What about the children?"

"They know how to." Sirius sighed. "Luna, Harry and Hermione are all under Grey, though Luna would probably tip more toward Dark and Hermione more Light. Harry, again, due to his strong magical core can pretty much decide whatever. Draco is, like myself, from an old Dark family. Ron and the Twins are from an old Light family."

"Honestly, I would have pegged the twins for Grey," Skye mused.

Sirius smirked. "You would think it has to do with personality, but it honestly doesn't. Fred and George, while they would be highly likely to use Dark Arts despite being Light Wizards, the fact that their magical cores are light tuned means the spells will simply come out very differently than say…Draco's and myself."

"So…" Skye clicked his fingers, "what you're saying is, the method in which they'll kill will be different due to their affiliation with different spectrums of magic. Whatever this…magic…of yours is?"

"Yep." Sirius cracked a grin.

Remus held up a hand, lightly interjecting. It was always amusing that whenever Remus spoke, folk tended to listen. Must have been the teacher in him. "There were three forbidden spells, we called them the Unforgiveable Curses. The first is Avada Kedavra, and please, if you ever hear any of us say it, and see a green bolt of light from our wands. Duck, get out of the road, just…hit the deck. It will kill you instantly." Remus studied the faces around him. "Tell the others too. It is the equivalent of our gun, only…there is no surviving it. All the children are given leave to use it. And that…that is saying something, considering it was forbidden to use in our world."

Sirius stood. "The second is the Cruciatus Curse, the incantation is crucio, and it is a torture curse. It will inflict excruciating pain on the recipient but it is a difficult spell to weld. It is highly likely that only Draco, Harry and Luna would be capable of it, as it requires immense emotions behind it. You must truly desire to inflict unbelievable pain purely for the sake of pain."

"Well, that's just delightful," Skye muttered. "Wonderful to know a bunch of wizards and witches lived around us without us knowing our entire lives with the ability to inflict such awful things on us."

"Oh, it get's better." Remus waggled his wand. "Want to know the last one?"

"Please, do tell." Rick raised an eyebrow. The cop in him must have been coming out, feeling just a bit threatened. This one, would get his panties in a knot if he ever saw it used, Sirius was positive.

"The Imperius Cruse, incantation is Imperio, and it is unlikely any of the children would be able to cast this one. It's very advanced magic."

"Hmmm," Sirius waved his hand about, "Luna might."

Remus' titled his head to one side. "True, true, Luna possibly, but unlikely she would unless driven to it."

"What does it do?" Hershel looked up from scribbling in his note book.

"It leaves the victim in a trance or a dreamlike state, allowing the caster to be in complete control over them. It's quite terrible, destroying the free-will of someone. You can resist it, if you have a strong enough will."

Sirius spread his hands. "So, my friends, those are our arsenal if we're in a very tight spot of bother. I hope you won't mind our…ah…rather unbecoming methods."

"Why is it that Luna keeps coming up?" Hershel raised his pen. Sirius had to hide his snort of laughter behind his hand. Goddess, it actually felt like they were in a classroom.

Remus' gaze shifted over the grassy meadow, toward the young girl picking flowers alongside Sam and Daryl's shadow some distance away, watching the world in silent, wraith like presence. His old friend breathed in a deep, unsettled breath.

"Both Luna and Harry are what we'd refer to as druids."

"Like Merlin?" Rick looked like a dumb kid, just for a moment.

"Merlin would be the most famous I suppose." Remus nodded. "They don't have to wait to replenish their magical cores, while normal wizards and witches do. Luna is simply a lot more skilled than Harry, due to having been raised as a druid, while Harry's development has been stunted from his…well…" Remus nibbled his lips.

"Harry was abused growing up." Sirius shrugged. He saw no reason hiding it from the good folk around him. "He was placed with some rather nasty people who hated our kind and they took it out on him. Needless to say, it's impacted his abilities quite a bit."

Hershel looked horrified and if anything, the cop in Rick came out swinging, asking for blood. Skye simply seemed to internalise the information.

"Will he be all right?" Rick's grip on his gun tightened.

"Sure, given time." Sirius shrugged. "It's not really like it's a huge priority anymore, you know, the worlds got a stick up its arse now. If he wants to chat about it, I figure he'll get around to it when he wants."

Rick nodded. "Just letting you know, Carl is likely to attach himself to your kids. It's been awhile since he's…"

Remus waved Rick off. "Don't worry about it, Rick, Draco and Harry will happily let him tag along."

Rick rose to his feet. "Thank you for sharing your knowledge with us, I know you truly did not have to."

"If we're going to work together," Remus opened his knapsack, "then we must trust each other and share openly. We don't want you to think we're holding things back. Protecting those we love is what is important now." He pulled out his map and the men gathered around him.

"I've been studying our possible directions, and this area right here, it has me curious." He pointed to a void in the map, with dotted spots around it. "Anyone know what it is?"

Rick's brow creased into thick lines as he rubbed his thick beard.

"That's a prison." The man suddenly grinned.

"A prison." Remus stated blandly.

Likely, Sirius knew, he was confused as to why Rick was suddenly so thrilled.

Remus started, "Well, I suppose that's not—"

"We should check it out." Rick slapped Sirius' shoulders.

Sirius gave a thumbs up. "I agree, if there is one thing I do know about prisons, they've got walls. Rick and I, we'll take the horses. Remus, you, Daryl and Glenn, keep an eye on everyone. If we're not back by tomorrow night, have Hermione chain you up to a tree."

"Thanks," Remus grumbled.

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Luna stood amongst the field of spring flowers.
The earth magic was strong, rising up through her bare toes that sunk into the soft, spongy soil. The giggles of the wind looped her loose hair back and forth, tangling it around her shoulders and her ears. If she closed her eyes she could imagine she was back home, and Ginny was running through the meadows that connected their houses, shouting that she had found evidence of Nargles just for her.

"Oh, Ginny…" Luna whispered, "You never did call me Looney." A tear slipped down her cheek, cupping on her chin. Quickly she wiped it away. It would be terrible, indeed, if she did become infested with Wrackspurts.

Pine needles. She smelt pine needles approaching, and the powerful, almost overwhelming earth-magic of Daryl's foot-steps pressing into the soil. Luna opened her eyes, blinking against the sunlight. His crossbow was loose over his shoulder. With grubby hands he settled a daisy chain around her neck.

It was infused with the most intricate earth-magic she had ever felt, a protective ward so strong, so powerful, it made her toes curl tightly. Tears threatened to escape again as her mind replayed the awful sight of Ginny and the blood and the Biters.

Daryl knelt, letting her fold against him.

"Sorry lass."

She shook her head against his shoulder. "Hmn, thank you," she whispered.

His nod was firm. Gathering up his crossbow he made his way back toward their main camp. Luna looked at the flowers she had gathered and turned toward Sam. She had bundled together a large bouquet as well.

"I think she'll like them," Luna murmured.

"I think so too." Sam offered a smile. "Come on. I think Lori, Carol and Harry are starting breakfast. The men must be finished their deep and meaningful manly discussion that they think only men do."

Luna giggled, taking Sam's free hand. Together they wove their way across the meadow, following Daryl's heavy boot prints.

Both car and van had been pulled off the road into the meadow, and with the use of a tarp, they had created some shade between both vehicles. Fred was atop the van with Glenn, both sitting on transfigured chairs, looking out over the area. Harry was crouched by the centre fire, his wand pouring flames into the gathered wood while Lori and Carol cooked a pot.

"What are we having?" Sam sat down beside her husband.

Harry glanced up. His eyes were still puffy. His magic still crackled painfully. Luna winced at it. He must have noticed, for his sent her an apologetic look. "Spaghetti, with some homemade damper. Still no cheese…" He pouted. "And…and…" Harry settled back on his heels, "In honor of Ginny, I've decided to make some chocolate pudding. She really loved chocolate pudding."

"Harry, that's lovely." Hermione clasped her hands tightly, briefly looking to Ron, who nodded weakly and gulped.

"Th…thanks…Harry." Ron managed to wheeze out.

If the bruising Harry was sprouting on his cheek was anything to go by, Luna had the feeling the two boy's had come to blows. That was hardly a surprise, Ron had grown up the last son in a family of mostly boys, he always ended up using his fists for some reason.

It was a good thing he was not like Draco and went for his wand and a cutting curse. Luna shuttered at that thought.

"I'll be using up the last of our chocolate though." Harry sorted through his bottomless bag, almost disappearing into it. His voice was muffled. "I still haven't figured out the right incantation to duplicate chocolate. How sad is that. Thought it would be first one I'd figure out." He made a soft, weak laugh as he reappeared with four slabs of chocolate.

"Wow. It's been…ages since I've seen chocolate." Carl sat down beside her and Luna noticed he had also gathered some flowers. Her heart swelled. Carl was so sweet.

"We found a…what was it called?" Ron piped up, turning to Hermione.

"A vending machine," she offered.

"Yeah, a vending machine. It was full of lots of really nice stuff, but that was months ago. Guess that's the last of it, Harry?"

"Hmm, yeah." Harry had turned back to the breakfast, helping Carol add more tins of spaghetti to their big pot.

"I've got a question." Carl held up his hand. "Where does all your stuff go in your bag?"

Hermione laughed as Harry pulled a face. She answered for him. "We think it goes to his vault in Gringotts, it's the Wizarding Bank. Which we think means that some sort of stability remains, at least in regards to the magical creatures of the Wizarding World…but who knows. Of course, Harry could have just made a normal extendable bag, but I personally think he puts far too much stuff in there for it to be normal."

"When do I ever do anything normal, Hermione," Harry griped.

"True, true." She laughed.

Their small little ceremony for Ginny was a quiet affair. Words did not need to be said. At the nearby river, amongst the sunlight dancing through the leaves of arching trees, Luna and Sam released their flowers into the water and the group watched as the current took them slowly away. Carl stepped forward, throwing his own bouquet into the stream. He had not known Ginny long, but she had touched his life like the embers of a fire on a dry meadow. Ginny always left something of herself behind. That was just who she had been.

Hershel said a few sentences from his book and Harry thanked him before they silently all moved away, leaving Harry standing silent and alone by the edge of the water. Luna looked back at him. So alone, like a single reed, being bent by the wind, but not breaking no matter the strength of what was cast upon him. She worried terribly though. His shoulders were shaking, any moment now he would slump down, his limbs collapsing. Through the soil that connected them, she could feel the pain. It was not just the pain of losing Ginny, it was the pain of everything.

It was never knowing his parents.

It was the hatred and spite of his aunt.

The strikes of his uncle.

The jibes of his cousin.

The betrayal of Dumbledore, the students at Hogwarts, the constant strain of being someone he felt he never wanted to be.

Then suddenly a world dead, gone—

Should she—

Daryl touched her shoulder. He shared a look with her and she nodded, agreeing with him. Harry needed to be alone. Well—it was time to let him think he was alone.

She smiled. The thing was, even when alone, you never really where alone.

The world was full of so many truly wonderful, invisible, marvellous things.

Harry just could not see how loved he was yet. He would. Soon.

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With Sirius and Rick having gone off some time in the morning, Harry was not sure he wanted to head back to the camp. His magic was still volatile, his body still ached, and he wished, really wished he was more like Luna and had far more linkage to his druid heritage but being raised a muggle had set him back. Really. It had.

Hands deep in his pockets, not really going in any direction, he wandered the length of the river, following the flowers they had cast in for Ginny. His mind kept drifting back to Hogwarts, to happier days in the Great Hall and the smiles of classmates.

"Mordred!" The Biter's grip on his arm came out of nowhere. So did the arrow that whizzed past his cheek, burrowing into the fiends skull, knocking it back. The thing slumped down as he stumbled away in horror.

That had been so—so—

He turned sharply in the direction the arrow had come. Daryl was walking silently toward him out of the forest. The man was quiet, as if his feet barely touched the ground. He had not even known he was nearby.

"Got a death wish, kid?"

"What's it to you if I do?" he snapped.

"Try smoking. It'll kill yeh slower." Daryl yanked his arrow clean from the Biter's skull.

"Tah, Daryl, don't give him a hard time." Skye called out. Harry twisted around. What was this? He thought he had been wallowing in his grief alone, was he in the middle of bloody London!

"Just saying." Daryl shrugged. He was clapped roughly over the head. "Buck up, little bitch."

Harry winced.

Daryl swung his crossbow over his back, trudging off. Harry scrambled after him, making a right old racket. He stifled his embarrassment, wishing he could manage the same stealth as the hunter.

"Where are you going?"

"Hunting. Damn Walker had to come from somewhere, didn it?"

"But…but what about the camp."

"Ain't babysitting everyone all the time. Got enough guns around."

Skye's chuckle came from somewhere. Harry spun on his heels. Where was the man?

"Skye?"

"Yep?"

"Where are you?"

"Look up."

Dangling from a tree branch the martial artist hung by his legs. He waved before giving a swing, summersaulting and landing in a crouch. His head was given another smart clap, almost knocking his glasses off.
"Come on." Skye motioned. His long strides were hard to keep with but Harry rushed after him.

"What about Sam?"

"She's fine." Skye fiddled with a long knife playfully as they trailed after Daryl. "I highly doubt that Maggie and Glenn will let her go two feet away from them now that I let the little fact of her pregnancy slip."

Harry pouted. "That's mean."

"Just a bit." Skye grinned boyishly. "But it's nice too, having people who care enough to bother."

Daryl had slowed up ahead of them, shifting behind a large tree. Skye's hand came to his shoulder and Harry felt the man direct him carefully toward the hunter, joining him in a crouch behind rows of bushes. Harry sucked in a sharp breath.

It was a camp. Well. What remained of a camp, with a tent, and a fire, and some back-packs.

Harry covered his mouth, holding back his alarm at the sight of the Biters, munching on the three bodies sprawled out. Daryl had been right—the Biter that had attacked him had come from somewhere after all.

The two men crouched beside him where seizing the situation up, and Harry flicked out his wand, wanting nothing more than to show he too was up to the game.

Daryl's hand signals seemed to make sense to Skye, who nodded in reply. Harry screwed up his face in annoyance, wishing he understood. Maybe someday, if he kept going along with them, he would learn. Skye placed a hand on his back as Daryl vanished into the bushes like a mist.

Lips pressed close to his ear, whispering, "As soon as Daryl's arrows distract them, start taking out as many as you can."

Harry breathed out the breath he held. Okay. He could do this.

The whizz-snap of an arrow threw him into action. His wand moved as though it was possessed and he fired in succession, reducto, blasting and smashing curses, along with freezing curses that allowed Skye's knife to smash skulls far easier when arms where not grabbing for him.

Soon they had eight Biters around their ankles, finished off.

Harry stood panting, wiping blood off his face. "Goddess, that felt good," he choked out. Was it supposed to? Was he not supposed to feel sick?

Skye gave his head a pat. "Sometimes you just have to blow off a little steam. Maybe next time, I should just teach you some jiu jitsu moves, heh?"

"Yeah, I'd…I'd…like that." Harry gripped his trembling wand hand.

Daryl emerged from his hiding spot, glancing around before snatching out his arrows from the bodies.

"We'll head back to camp, Daryl." Skye wiped his dagger on his pants.

"Luna wants some herbs," Daryl murmured. "I should find them for her."

"All right," Skye motioned to Harry, "meet you back in an hour or so. Come on Harry, we'll do a sweep of the other side on the way back."

He knew they were trying to make him feel included, or trying to distract him, or perhaps they were just being nice in some strange manly fashion that he did not understand, considering he had never really had role models to aspire to other than Sirius and Remus, who had coddled him for fear of seeing him crumble into a dozen pieces.

Jogging after Skye he piped up, "So…can you teach me how to use a knife too?"

"Though you wizard-y folk only use sticks?"

He thought of Ginny, how she had lost her wand. The panic in her eyes. He did not want to panic if ever he lost the only weapon he had ever known.

"I might lose it? What then?"

Skye's smirk told him he had just won points with the fighter. Yep. He was going to learn everything he could to survive this horrible new world.

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Luna stirred.

Voices broke through the darkness of sleep. She rolled around. The starry sky greeted her with the most beautiful array. It took her breath away. How wonderful it was to sleep outside, to see the splendour of their world, to be reminded that there was still beauty left. Her lips parted in a soft sigh.

The murmuring voices continued, nibbling at her ears.

Weakly she pushed herself upright, peering through the silver glow of the almost full moon. It was near bright enough to be a grey daytime. She shivered at the eerie wonder of it. Across the camp, a fire was set low amongst a ring of rocks. Shadows sat around it. The horses had been gilded.

Rick and Sirius had returned. Her heart fluttered.

Carefully she crawled out from under the blankets, making sure not to disturb Carl or Hermione, and slowly she crept her way across the cold, damp grass toward the figures around the fire.

Daryl, as always, was to first to notice her. His sigh was long, heavy and dare she say it—slightly perplexed.

"Moonshine, I told you to sleep tonight."

"I can't," she rubbed her bare feet. All eyes had fallen on her. Most of the adults where awake it seemed. She could smell the beer and the coffee, and Daryl's cigarettes. He waved at her and opened his thick poncho. Quickly she huddled into it, safe, warm. Earth magic coiled around her.

She felt the eyes of the group on them, and sensed Daryl's rising tension, his muscles coiling like springs.

"What you looking at?" Daryl sniped.

Carol twittered a laugh. "I'm hoping I'm not looking at a restraining order."

"Fuck off." He flicked the butt of his cigarette at her, only making her laugh all the more. "She's fourteen. What do you take me for? A dick?"

"Yeah, sometimes." Glenn snorted.

Luna poked her head out of the poncho, smiling as Daryl's arm snaked tightly around her.

He whispered in her ear, "Go to sleep, princess."

The conversation continued around her as she snuggled into his lap, warm under the thick poncho cast over her. Daryl's hand heavy against her side, protective, comforting, just like her father's had once been when she was a little girl, scared of the monsters under her bed. She stared into the flames licking at the wood in the fire.

"The prison is a viable option." Sirius kept tapping his wand on his knee. "From what we could see, it had space to expand into, a roof to put over our heads, and walls to keep the Walkers out."

"Only problem is." Rick spoke between mouthfuls of his late dinner. "It's already full of Walkers. We would have to clear it first."

"Could we do it?" Maggie hesitated slightly.

"I don't think it is a question of if, it is a matter of…we have to." Rick shook his head.

"But we're so low on ammo." The young woman worried her lips.

Sirius nodded. "I honestly think the hope of having a stable place to put our heads at night outweighs the risks."

Luna felt her eyelids grow heavier.

"I guess we're going to prison then." Skye joked lightly. "My parents would be so proud."

"Don't worry," Daryl must have thrown something at him, "I'll make sure tah introduce yeh to all the pretty boys."

"Oh, you wound me my friend, I thought we were going to be lovers forever!"

"I can't leave you both for a minute, can I," Sam whacked them both over the head, "you start sprouting this sort of stuff in front of innocent ears."

"Yes, Luna is still awake Daryl," Carol chided.

"I was talking about Sirius." Sam jutted a thumb at the man sipping on his coffee.

"Hey, what? Hey!" Sirius sulked at the round of laughter.

Luna rolled around, slipping further into a comfortable, half-sleep state. Tomorrow would bring scary, frightening things, she was sure—but the sound of laughter was like a lullaby, and Daryl's heavy, cigarette damaged breathing lulled away all fears. She curled her fingers into his rough, scarred hand, accepting the swell of sleep.

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Hermione grumbled under her breath as she tried, for the umpteenth time, to bundle up her mad, untamed, fuzz-fest of hair. Her arms were growing tried from just trying to tame the beast that was aloft her skull. Ron was no help. Alas, living with his brothers and one sister had not raised him for the terrors of helping a girl-friend with bad hair days, made worse with never, ever—EVER—seeming to shower.

So—icky.

Hermione shook the thought from her mind.

Ginny had been helpful most mornings. Hermione's lips parted. Her arms sunk to her side. How awful of her, to miss Ginny just because she had helped with her hair. She shook that thought from her mind as well. Stupid, stupid brain.

"Need some help?"

Hermione cocked her head about, surprised at the intrusion to her morning routine. Usually Ron, Harry and Draco knew well enough to keep far away from her in the mornings. She could be a right terror and bite their heads off in a bit of a temper.

It was one of Rick's group, or she supposed, she really should have been calling them part of their group now, it seemed rather set in stone that they would be travelling and living together as one party for the foreseeable future. Sirius and Rick got along particularly well. They had an endearing sense of justice that ticked each other's boxes.

She should have known the man's name. She remembered everything. Theo…Theodore, oh, no wait, he had insisted on being called T-Dog. He wore a baggy, worn cap over his bald head, and baggy jeans that had been cut around his ankles to match what should have been a rapper look, once upon a time.

Hermione smiled. "You often ask to help girls do their hair?"

"I had three little sisters, yeh know, before all this." He crouched down beside her. "I got real good at braiding their hair."

Her heart swelled as she ran her fingers through her tight fuzz. She had not had braided hair for so long, not without her mother around to do it for her. "You think you could do it for me?" she whispered.

"Sure. I know I don't look it, but I used to have a sick afro once."

She sat back on her heels, relaxing against the ground as she felt him shuffle up behind her.

"Thought your magic would be able to do this for you?"

She resisted shaking her head, feeling him apply himself to the work he offered to do. "While magic is quite useful in some cases, like a quick Scourgify to clean yourself, or the Tergeo to your clothes it eventually becomes redundant. Fabric builds up resistant to the same spell if not washed, and so do does our body. Perhaps if I had paid more attention to all the girl-y magazines my friends had read at school I might have known something useful for my hair but…" She laughed. "It was never really my thing."

"One of my sisters was a bit like that." T-Dog agreed. "Wouldn't worry too much, right, I mean, what good have fashion magazines done now?"

"True." Hermione grinned. She smoothed her hands over the dirty jeans. Lavender Brown would be horrified at the sight of her for sure.

"So what do you think about this prison break in?" T-Dog paused for a moment, letting her feel the result of his work, approve of it with a nod, and allowing him to resume. He was gradually creating a rather nice, tight pattern across her skull, leaving a fuzz-ball down around her neck. She had a feeling it was going to be the loveliest hair style she had ever sprouted.

"I guess I won't truly be able to make a full assessment of the situation until I see the prison for myself, but I trust Sirius and Rick. If they think we can do it, then we can. If they think it's a good idea, then it is."

The sigh he made came as a surprise. "Rick's been good for us."

Once more, she had to resist the urge to turn around. By the tone of his voice, she was left wondering if she truly meant the words he said.

"How long have you known Rick?"

"Since the beginning…oh well…since Atlanta, when he joined us. That was sort of, our beginning. The start of our family. We lost some, gained some."

She narrowed her lips. "That seems to be the way."

"Yeah." His hands fell onto her shoulders, giving a firm pat. "All done."

Hermione burst with excitement, scrambling for her toiletry bag, finding the small mirror she kept within. Lucky for her, her dark complexion hid a lot of the dirt that gathered up from adventuring, unlike Ron, who's pale skin got so grotty he looked like a to old sponge.

"Thank you," she gushed at the sight of herself in the tiny mirror. It was perfect, nope, it was better than perfect. It made her look like a princess and a warrior all at once. She had never felt so beautiful and she was not even wearing a formal dress. How magical! "Not even my mother could do something so lovely. I inherited my father's hair and she honestly did not know what to do with it." She giggled at the heart warming reminder of her mother. "She didn't know what to do with her own hair half the time."

T-Dog rubbed at his eyes. He removed his cap, running a hand over his head, before managing a weak grin. His thoughts must have been on his sisters. It would have been cruel to ask how he lost them—it was just enough to know she could bring back fond memories with just simpleness of a hair-style.

"You're welcome." He eased himself onto his feet. "Glad I could help, yeh know."

Seizing her back of toiletries up, Hermione jogged after him, back toward the camp and the sight of it being gradually packed back into the landrover and the van.

"We all help each other now." She seized his hand. "No one gets left behind, Theodore."

"T-Dog."

"Nope, I refuse. Theodore is such a wonderful name!"

He groaned. "This is like that thing with you calling Remus Professor ain't it?"

"Yep." She laughed. Reminding people who they truly where inside was a good pastime of hers. Theodore T-Dog would be her next great experiment.

Reaching the camp, Hermione threw her bag in with her backpack. Harry was helping Luna with her potions equipment. It looked as though Daryl had been fruitful in his promise to bring her back a range of ingredients. Hermione felt an odd release of tension in her shoulders she had not known was there. Harry was looking somewhat better than the day before. His swollen, bruised cheek from Ron's mighty swing had gone down a little, and the spark of his bright eyes had returned to its lustre. He greeted her with his trademark, coy smile.

"You look different this morning…"

She spun around. "Notice anything?"

His brow creased. Harry pouted. Oh. Honestly. Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry could have one of Luna's crazy Heliopaths in front of him and he would not know!

"Lovely hair, Hermione, you finally look half respectable." Draco passed by, bearing a box of supplies.

Hermione flashed a stinging hex at his buttocks. He winced, glaring back at her.

"You'll have to do better than that."

"Oh, I will, someday," she dared.

Draco sniffed. "Sure." He vanished around the side of the van, yelling at Sam and Skye.

Harry was by her side, looking apologetic. "You look lovely."

"Thank's Harry. What do you need me to do?"

"Um, well, I think Lori could use some help with the blankets."

Then that was where she would start. Everyone pulled together, they were family. She was sure of it. Not through blood, not even through magic anymore, but through the horrifying events of a world gone wrong.

They had become the most important people to each other.

Family.

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"Dad…please." Carl inched closer to Harry and Draco. "Daryl and Skye are with us. Please."

"Hey, hey, don't forget us." Sam jutted a finger at herself and Carol. "Sheesh."

"And me," Luna piped.

Sam wrapped the girl in a hug. "Of course, darling, you're our van's mascot. You're practically a hippy."

Harry felt Rick seize them up, his frown growing ever more like a raging storm brewing behind some mountains. Carl looked so dejected behind his thick rimmed hat. He wanted so much his father's approval, but on the other hand, he wanted desperately to be out, on his own, doing things out from under his father's nose.

Skye rested a hand on Carl's head. "We'll keep an eye on him, Rick, don't you worry."

The little glaring war between father and son seemed to be broken. Harry breathed out. So intense.

"All right," Rick sagged. "But I want you to stick close to Draco, or one of the adults."

"Why not Harry?" Carl frowned.

"I can't apperate…er…very well." Harry shrugged. "Stick with me, you're as screwed as I am."

Skye started laughing suddenly. Sam slapped a hand over her face, saying something in Japanese, causing her husband only to laugh all the more.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Is it something I said?"

"They're being childish." Carol motioned them toward the van. "Ignore their immaturity."

It took Daryl whacking Skye roughly over the head to calm him down so he could clamber into the front seat to start the van. Sam was fending off his hand, that kept trailing to her thigh across their front seat. Harry smiled to himself. At least the two of them still had fresh, unashamed devotion to each other. He had only grown up knowing the bitterness between his Aunt and Uncle. They had not been the best of role models for a truly loving relationship, and it was interesting to find himself surrounded by terribly dysfunctional people, but all more accepting and full of love than any he had ever known.

Carol, Daryl and Luna piled into the back of the van, leaving him, Draco and Carl to the middle. Carl sat between him and Draco, bubbling with excitement at finally being away from both his parents.

Daryl tapped Harry's shoulder gently. Harry glanced back at the man.

"Keep your wand near."

He knew what the hunter meant. He was to keep an alert eye out for anything, and to take action the moment he thought danger was approaching. Daryl and Skye and pulled him and Draco aside earlier that morning, and in low voices, they mentioned their concerns about—other people.

Not Biters.

Just.

Other normal people.

He still shuttered at the look that had passed Skye's face when he had told of Sam's experience, and the annihilation of their entire group. How could anyone—anyone—do that to other Humans?

He sighed. The new world they lived in, he supposed. Was it any further away from Voldemort and his Death Eaters killing his parents and Muggles? Probably not.

An hour into the drive, Carol handed out some bars. Such a mother, making sure they were fed, had water, and kept warm. Yet, despite all the tenderness and sweetness of her touches, her eyes were sharp. She knew so well not to trust the world—maybe she had even known not to trust it before the pandemic, just like he had known it had been cruel and unfair even before everything had turned upside down.

The landrover was still some distance ahead of them. Harry wondered when they would catch up with the Twins on horseback. How he longed for a good broom. Someday, when all the cars no longer worked, would brooms be all they had? Could the muggles fly them—he would need to work on some way to figure that out. He jotted the thought down in his notebook.

"You guys fly on broomsticks. No way," Carl burst out.

Harry slapped his little notebook shut in alarm. He had forgotten about Carl's curiosity.

Smiling Harry nodded. "Yep. Wizards and Witches fly on brooms."

"Like all those pictures and stories…so awesome."

Sam peered over from the front seat. "Haven't seen you guys doing any flying."

Draco sighed. "That's because we haven't got any brooms with us. We were in a bit of a rush when we left England. None of us thought out bringing a broom."

"Which is a bit odd," Harry mused, "considering all of us boy's played for the House Teams. You would think one of us would have thought of it."

Draco shrugged. "We thought we were heading to Hogwarts, not the other side of the planet."

"Yeah, I suppose so." Harry pouted. That was true. They had landed in America unprepared for the end of the world. Thank Morgan Le Fay Professor Lupin and Sirius had taken the same portkey with them.

"Can't you…hmmm…what was the word you used," Carol tapped the middle seat thoughtfully, "transfigure a broom?"

Harry shook his head, turning around to face her. "Brooms have complicated charms and spells on them that make them work to a Wizard or Witches magical core. Perhaps if I knew what those charms and spells where I would be able to transfigure one…if I was Professor McGonagall…but I'm just managing the transfiguration that I do at the moment. I'm having to come up with new, un-orthodox ways of doing magic. We were only in our fifth year at school."

Carol gave his hand a gently pat of assurance. It warmed his cold fingers at her motherly gesture. "You are doing wonderful, Harry. I am sure your teachers would be immensely proud of both of you."

Even Draco's chest looked as though it swelled a bit at the praise.

"So grabbing an average broom and flying it would be out of the question?" Daryl inquired.

Draco huffed back in his seat. He was still sore about that, Harry smirked inwardly. Poor Draco, he hated the fact that his grand idea had not worked. "We tried that. One of the first things Harry and I did when we found some on a scavenger hunt. Stupid."

Daryl's thoughtful nod was intriguing. Harry watched the hunter as he rubbed his stubbled chin, his other arm was loosely wound around Luna while she sat, knitting—of all the things—in his lap because the space between Daryl and Carol was taken up with supplies. There was something about Daryl, something he could not place his magical core on, but obviously Luna had. She had to have figured it out to have gravitated to him so suddenly.

He was positive that the moment he realized, the moment his magical core figured it out, he too would be unable to resist the instant bond but just—what—what was it?

Damn—why wasn't he Hermione who could remember everything he had ever read!

Daryl leant forward again, startling him by tapping the back of his chair.

"Draw me some pictures of your brooms, as detailed as you can make them. List off what they're made of, or at least what you think they're made of. Your kind had to make them yourselves somehow, long before you mass-produced them, right?"

Draco's eyebrows vanished under his hairline. "He's right, Harry, it's like we've gone back in time. To Merlin's era. We're the new…"

"…start of the Magical World." Harry breathed out the end of his friend's sentence. Goddess. This felt—

"Oh! We're here!" Sam called out suddenly. The van chugged to a slow, wheezing halt. Harry tensed. This was it. Rick and Sirius' great bloody idea.

He and Draco heaved open the side doors of the van and leapt out. Carl checked his gun before quickly sweeping the area alongside Skye. The small river they had camped nearby, which they had all decided to remain Ginny's River since there was no name for it on Remus' map, met up with them once again on the edge of the forest that rimmed the prison.

Harry stared out across the long meadow, toward the high wired fences caging in at least two hundred Biters in a courtyard. They ambled about, not bothering each other, but looking so frightening in their number.

The landrover pulled up, with the Twins on their transfigured horses trailing behind. Rick leapt out from the driver's seat.

"There's a lot of them, Rick." Daryl strolled past.

"We can take them." Rick waved away the protest.

Daryl made a face at the blatant disregard. Harry frowned beside him as Rick faced the prison, seizing up their approaching doom. The man was brimming with adrenalin, but that was not the issue. He looked, and felt, like Sirius after a bad round of nightmares. He wanted, he needed, he was craving the rush, the thrill, the fight and under it all—driving it—was the gnawing worry of those he protected, eating him up inside.

"We'll sleep with a roof over our heads tonight." Rick firmly nodded. "We'll sleep safe!"

"I agree." Sirius clapped his hands. Harry studied his godfather. How long would it take for him and Rick to clash. Their personalities were rather similar, or would their intense drive to protect their merged family keep them on the same narrow path. He sure hoped so, he did not want to be anywhere near them when they ended up in a fight.

Professor Lupin, Sirius, Rick, Daryl and Carol stood by the river, their discussion and debate in hushed tones but Harry gathered the general idea. Attack head on. Wonderful. He rolled his eyes as Professor Lupin handed down orders in a military fashion.

Harry swung away, resisting the urge to salute the werewolf. He was unlikely to find it funny in his current state, it was almost the full moon after all.

He approached Glenn and Maggie unloading the landrover.

"Got your orders." Harry chimed. "Sounds like we're going to war."

"We're just going to charge right in then?" Glenn slapped down their stash of weapons. "Nice." He threw a gun at his girlfriend. Beth was sorting through the box, she came out with a large knife and grinned at her father.

Hershel sighed heavily.

"Draco is really good with his cutting curses, Hershel," Harry offered, "if you want, you can ask him to stick by Beth."

"I think I might."

"Who are you guarding, Harry?" Maggie ruffled his hair playfully.

Harry smirked. "I would say you, but you can look after yourself."

She laughed. "Why thank you."

"I'm watching Lori, Carl and Sam. I have to get them to the first check point. I can't apperate yet, so if we can establish a safe zone for you guys to get to I'll be doing my job. Oie, T-Dog, Hermione wants you on her team."

"Sweet." T-Dog gave a thumbs up.

"Who is Skye with?" Glenn stood, arm wrapping around Maggie.

Harry motioned back toward Daryl, Luna and Carol. "Right, so, you and Maggie are joining Luna, Carol and Skye on the vanguard. Make sure nothing happens to Luna or Daryl might kill you."

"Check." Glenn frowned. "What is with those two anyway?"

"Daryl and Luna?" Harry shrugged. "Magical cores can create bonds, sort of like…hmmm…" he tapped his chin, "golden strings between people," he motioned between Glenn and Maggie. "If I look at both you through my…rather terrible aura reading skills, I'm hardly as good as Luna, but I can if I try hard enough. You both have a string between your aura's because you've bound yourselves to each other in marriage."

"We're not married." Maggie protested.

"You have sex, you love each other, earth magic doesn't care for worldly concepts like Human ceremonies." Harry laughed at the faces they pulled.

"You're blunt." Maggie smirked. "Love it."

Harry studied the earth. It clung to his boots, thick, still gluggy, waiting for summer to dry it out. Earth—the fuel of their magical cores. He still did not quite understand truly what it was linked Wizards and Witches to the earth, but someday he hoped he would figure it out.

He sucked in a deep breath. "I have a feeling Daryl's a druid, and that's why Luna's responded to him, because she's also one."

"A what?" Glenn spluttered.

"A druid. A very unique sort of wizard, able to tap into old earth magic much easier than modern Wizards and Witches." Harry shrugged. "I'd also…technically be one, since I come from the Potter ancestry, but…my magical core hasn't made a linkage with Daryl yet." He scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"Why not?" Glenn leant back on the landrover.

It had been troubling Harry. Ever since he had worked out the connection. He rubbed his chest, the place he liked to imagine his magical core was situated.

"I…I…I'm really not sure," he ducked his head, "but…it might…it could have something to do with…well…what happened to be when I was little."

Maggie wrapped him in a sudden hug. "Honey, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to."

The warmth of her sudden attention was both comforting and alarming. Harry melted into her embrace.

"It's nothing really, I just, didn't get along with the people who were supposed to love me. That's all. I think it impacted how my magic…well…makes connections."

Maggie kissed his forehead. "Well, we're here now, Harry. That's what matters."

He nodded weakly. "Thanks."

On slightly unsteady feet he returned to the van, where Draco was sorting out his medical kit. His wand was tucked behind an ear, and his face was set in an annoyed, boyish scowl.

"What's wrong?"

"Hmm, oh, nothing much, just all that stuff we collected from the old-folks home the other day…making sure they're in proper places. We've no idea what's going to happen in the next few hours."

"Yeah, I guess so." Harry repressed a shiver. Someone could be dead soon.

Draco eyed him. "You going to be all right."

His brief nod must have been reassuring enough for his friend. Draco swung his medical kit over his shoulder. With a heave he slammed the door of the van shut.

"What are we going to do about the cars?" Harry spread his arms. "We can't just leave them and all our gear here. And there is no way we're going to clear all those Biters in one day from the main courtyard."

"My godson's got a point," Sirius griped, looking toward Rick. "No way you folk have enough ammo, and as much as I enjoy running around slicing Biters heads off, I'd rather do it in small chunks. My magical core is going to be stressed enough as it is, and I have to babysit a werewolf tonight."

Remus growled low. Sirius looked toward him. "What? It's true, don't growl at me."

Draco scratched the back of his neck. "It might be possible that once we get to the other side, Professor Lupin, Hermione and myself could apperate back here and side-along teleport the cars into the courtyard. That means we wouldn't have to clear all of the Biters out of that meadow area. Just enough to get through."

Rick was nodding along with Draco's words, though Harry doubted the man understood much of what was being said, he must have got enough to agree.

Professor Lupin winced. "I won't be much help in that, I'm afraid. Tonight is the full moon. I wouldn't want to risk being part of a Rune Circle."

"Ah." Draco frowned. "Damn."

"We'll do it." The Twins held up their hands. "Bill taught us enough about Runes to get the general idea of teleporting stuff. Half our pranks at school had to use it."

"Draco," Harry shuffled worriedly. "That's a lot of metal to move. You'll weaken your cores even more after all the fighting. You won't be able to do magic for a while."

Rick raised his hand. "What's wrong with metal?"

"Metal blocks magic." Hermione pulled out her wand. "Wood is a conductor of magic, so is stone, but metal is earth that has been processed. It has been theorized that due to that, it has a sort of…coating on it, that makes it difficult for us to manipulate."

Tapping his foot on the ground Rick looked worriedly toward the prison. "Will you be fine living in there?"

"We'll be fine." Draco puffed out his chest. "Our magic still works around metal, it just doesn't…how would say…stick to it? We'll have more trouble warding the prison, but like the Twins said, Runes will work much better than spells. Runes are old earth magic, a lot of our people forgot about the old earth ways due to more…easier methods. It may be that we'll just have to go back to our roots."

"I should come with you." Harry stepped forward. "My magical core doesn't have a limit. You wouldn't have to worry about the metal draining you then. You could use me as the conduit."

"Shit Harry," Fred scoffed, "when are you going to learn we don't want to cause you pain."

"Stop being so self-sacrificing." George frowned. "You need to look after yourself too."

"If we include more people in the Rune Circle we'll weaken more cores." Hermione shook her head. "We'll need you, Ron and Luna at maximum capacity encase we need backup over the next few days while we recover. Harry, we'll be fine, this is good learning for us."

Harry huffed. "Fine. But you know this is all speculating. First we actually have to get through that," he jutted a finger at the prison. Every eye followed his movement and silence followed. Rick checked his gun, placing a hand on Carl's head.

"We'll be fine."

No matter how many times the ex-cop said it, Harry could not find himself believing it.

Maybe Rick said it, because he himself did not believe it, and needed to keep repeating it to live in the eternal hope that someday, they would be fine.

Everyone gathered together, a large group, guns, wands and melee weapons at the ready.

Harry breathed out, steadying in his nerves.