A/N: They won't be going through the sewers like in the game because they are taking a different route. So that whole arc of the game has been taken out because canon is changing. That is why this arc is called 'Suburbs'.
I'd like to thank my reviewers. Your support is the only reason why I was able to find the energy to update this fast. So thank you to: bunnyhoney1010, neodova, Warden of Lore, vsncheze, cruailsama, The Amazing Grayson and two anonymous reviewers.
I went through chapters 1 and 2 and found some typos, so I corrected all that. I'll probably read through chapters 3-8 later this week to try and see if there is anything for me to edit. If you guys find any typos, please tell me so I can get rid of them.
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Unflatering Bereavement
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ARC THREE - SUBURBS
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It feels relieving when everybody gets to the other side of the bridge. No one has fallen into the water, thankfully, and they are all in one piece. It took a while for everyone to cross because nobody dared walk too fast on that metal beam, and they went one at a time to avoid putting too much weight on it. Luckily they aren't in a hurry, or else they would not have made it.
Sam is sitting down on the road, still wide-eyed from the crossing. Ellie is crouched down next to him, rubbing a hand on his back to comfort him.
"It's over," she's saying. "You're okay now."
"Man, that was stressful!" exclaims Henry, hands on his hips as he looks out at the horizon.
Joel scoffs. "I'd take this over getting shot at by them hunters."
"Ahh..." says Henry with a smile on his face as he raises his arms to stretch, "but in a gunfight you can defend yourself. If one of us fell off the bridge, then there isn't much we could've done."
Nodding grudgingly, Joel looks away. "There's that, too." His eyes are on the last beams of sunlight. The sun has already disappeared and it is getting quite late. With every passing second, there's less light. "It's getting late," he says, shifting his gaze to the others. "We should find somewhere to settle down for the night."
Harry looks at the road they are on and where it leads off to. He can see an area full of trees and a few houses further away, so finding shelter won't be too hard.
"We can just settle into one of those houses," he says, pointing at the small houses in the distance.
Joel follows Harry's line of sight and nods. "That should do."
"Sam," says Henry, looking down at his brother. "Stand up. We're going."
Ellie looks worriedly at Sam's pale face. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. He looks kinda sick."
Rolling his eyes, Henry leans down to take Sam's arm and pull him up. "We don't have time for this sort of stuff. Pull yourself together, man."
As soon as Sam is standing, he wobbles and his face pales even more. He claps a hand aginst his mouth but it's too late. Vomit comes out and sprays against his fingers, splashing out and splattering across the road.
"Ugh!" exclaims Henry with a grimace, taking a step back.
Harry takes his backpack off and opens it hurriedly to pull out some fabric that he normally uses as a bandage. He gives it to Sam, who wipes his hands with a look of disgust mingled with defeat.
"Are you okay?" asks Ellie softly. She reaches out to him but he slaps her hand away.
"I'm fine," he mutters.
He finishes washing his mouth and throws the soiled cloth on the ground.
"Do we need to take a break?" asks Henry. His voice is much more gentle now. Seeing Sam vomit must've made him realize he was being too hard on the boy.
Sam shakes his head.
"No," he says firmly. "Let's go."
Ignoring all other attempts from Henry and Ellie to help him, Sam walks forward. His stride is determined and his hands are shaped into tight fists. His prominent scowl makes everyone else stop talking.
Harry closes his backpack and slips it back on while everyone else follows Sam, and then he hurries to catch up to them.
"Do you think there'll be hunters over there too?" Harry asks Joel, making a motion towards the suburban area they are approaching.
"I'd be surprised if there aren't," answers Joel. "There were a lot of hunters in the city and even by stealin' from people passing by they'd run out of food. I really doubt they are well-fed so they probably have to have some vegetable gardens or places where they grow food. Those places will be around the edges of the city, where there are backyards they can use."
"And there are probably patrols near the edge of Pittsburgh to protect their territory," adds Henry.
Harry purses his lips. "I think we should set up some sort of nightshift, just in case. If those hunters really are trying to find us to get revenge for what we did to them, then we should be on our cautious."
"And could we get a place near the river?" asks Sam. "I really need to wash my hands." He looks down at his feet and winces when he sees the vomit splattered across his trainers. "And my shoes, too."
The mention of washing reminds Harry that he really needs to wash his clothes too. They are still soaked through with blood, although it is starting to dry. He really hopes he can get the blood out of them because he doesn't really have any other clothes on him.
"I wouldn't mind the opportunity to wash my clothes," he says.
Joel points at the river under the bridge. "Let's find a place near the river and then we'll wash up. I think getting clean would make us all feel a hell of a lot better."
As soon as they leave the bridge behind them, they get off the road in order to walk closer to the river. They aren't walking directly besides it, but they are close enough to not lose sight of it as they head North.
The first few houses are rejecting on the grounds that they are too close to the centre of Pittsburgh. There is too much of a risk of hunters coming nearby, so it's best to find something slightly more isolated. However, after a half-hour of walking and rejecting every house they pass by, Ellie snaps.
"Okay, can we just find somewhere to crash? Because I've crossed half the city on foot today and I really wanna rest."
Henry chuckles. "Well, what the lady wants, she shall get." He gestures over at a nearby house that looks identical to the others they've passed by.
Joel eyes the house with disapproval. "The windows are too large. We'd be too exposed there."
With a sound of exasperation, Ellie starts stomping towards the house.
"Ellie, that house ain't safe. Ellie? Ellie!"
But she ignores him and just continues walking. Joel sighs.
"I guess that's where we'll be sleeping tonight," he mutters.
The house itself is a very modern building with, as said previously, very large windows. Most of the windows have been smashed so the group enters the building that way, as the front door is locked shut. The interior of the house is full of mold and decaying furniture. The walls do serve as protection from the wind, but the shattered windows allow a lot of cold air to come in. Luckily it is summer so there isn't a risk of anyone catching a cold during the night.
The house has been entirely gutted, with all drawers and cupboards wide open and empty. It really looks like someone searched through the house and took everything there was.
"Dibs on the master bedroom!" exclaims Ellie as she runs upstairs.
"That's not fair!" exclaims Sam, running after her.
Harry, Joel and Henry are left to stare in amusement as they head upstairs at a slower pace. Harry can already hear Ellie and Sam arguing about bedrooms as they open doors and look through the rooms upstairs.
"I'm the only girl in our group!" Ellie is saying. "I deserve my own room!"
"Your gender doesn't entitle you to privileges! I can't sleep when there's too much noise so why can't I have my own room?" answers Sam.
Joel whistles sharply as he arrives on the upper floor. The sound makes the argument stop, and the two kids look at the man sheepishly.
"What the hell is goin' on?" he demands.
"There are only two rooms," says Ellie, gesturing at the hallway they are in.
There are four doors along the hallway, so according to Ellie two of them would lead to the mentioned bedrooms and the two others lead to other rooms.
Joel sighs in annoyance, muttering, "Shoulda picked another house…"
"Are there any clothes I could change into?" asks Harry, pointing at his bloodied clothes.
Shaking her head, Ellie says, "Everything was taken a while ago. The closets are all empty."
Meanwhile, Henry takes a look at the two kids and then glances at the hallway. "How many beds are there?" he asks. "What sizes are the beds?"
"Uhhh… There's one room with a single bed, and another one has a double bed," answered Sam.
Henry frowns. "Well, do they still have their quilts on?"
Ellie takes a moment to remember. Then, she nods. "Yeah, they do."
That seems to be the answer Henry was looking for. "Well we can take those covers off and put them on the floor. Two people can sleep on the double bed, one can sleep on the single bed and then two people can sleep on the quilts on the floor.
Joel rolls his eyes. "It would make more sense to just find a house with more rooms. This is all a waste of time."
"We're already here," Harry points out, "and it's getting dark out. I don't think a lack of beds for everyone will kill us."
Joel throws his arms up in the air, exasperated. "Fine. Do what you want. I just think it's stupid to stay here if there are better alternatives."
"It'll be fine," Henry tells Joel. "Fewer rooms is better anyway. If we get hunters coming into the house, at least we'll already be together and ready to fight them off."
"What about cleaning up?" asks Harry, gesturing at the drying blood on his clothes. "We said we'd go wash up, but it's getting late. And we can't all leave to bathe at the same time."
Henry leans against one of the walls of the hallway and adopts a thoughtful expression. "Well, we should definitively split up in two groups. One can stay here to hold the fort, and the other can go to the river."
Joel nods. "And the people in the group that goes to the river can't all wash at the same time. There should be one person washing their clothes or themselves while the others stand guard."
Ellie smirks. "Don't worry Joel, I'm sure that if hunters surprise you while you're naked you'd still be able to fight them off."
Evidently, Joel does not find that funny. He glares at her, though there isn't any real heat behind it. "Ha-ha. How amusing."
"So who'll go with the team to the river?" asks Henry. "And who'll stay?"
Harry's answer is obvious.
"I'll go with the river team. If I don't go soon I won't be able to save these clothes."
Sam steps closer to Harry. "I need to wash up too," he says.
The boy has traces of vomit on his shoes and his trousers. Like Harry, he wishes to freshen up so he is no longer covered in bodily fluids.
"You," says Joel, pointing at Henry.
"Henry," the man reminds Joel.
Nodding, Joel continues, "Henry, right. You should go with Harry and Sam. I'll stay here with Ellie. That way each group has at least one adult in case things go wrong. If one of you gets found by hunters while you're washing up, then avoid running back here because you'd bring them straight to us. Try to lose them first, or kill them if you can so they don't spread the word and tell everyone where we are."
"No problem," answers Henry. "And if we're not back in two hours, then assume something went wrong and be on your guard."
Now that the details are hashed out, Harry, Henry and Sam leave the house and head towards the river. Harry has brought along the firearm he took from a hunter's corpse by the barricade near the yellow bridge. He originally meant to hold on to the weapon for Joel's sake since Harry doesn't have much talent with shooting guns, but considering Henry and Sam are there Harry would like a non-magical alternative in case he has to fight against anyone. He knows he might end up forced to admit he is a wizard to those two considering they'll be travelling with Harry, Joel and Ellie, but he would prefer delaying that.
Admitting it to Bill and Frank was rather bold, but Harry is glad he told them, all those weeks ago. It allowed him to stay in Lincoln. He doesn't mind the fact that Joel and Ellie know his secret either. They've been rather respectful and have taken the revelation that magic is real rather well. But Henry and Sam haven't proven themselves as trustworthy yet, so Harry won't say anything.
Harry thinks about Bill, who was accepting and had no problem with Harry being a wizard as long as he earned his keep around town. The man was rude, sullen and bossy, but he also took care of Harry and taught him about the strange world he had ended up in. Bill was the first in this world who had learnt of Harry's abilities and Harry feels sad knowing the man is dead right now, having killed himself to avoid turning into an Infected.
"So you and Joel and Ellie..." begins Henry. "Why're you trying to find the Fireflies? What do you want from them?"
They're walking on a small road that borders the river. There is a metal fence keeping them from getting down to the river so they have been walking along the road to try and find an easier way to access the riverbank.
"Apparently Ellie has to meet some people there, so I've been tagging along to help protect her." It's not exactly true, but Harry will not reveal to a virtual stranger that Ellie might be the solution to creating a vaccine for Cordyceeps. Who knows, Henry might kidnap her and ransom her off to the highest bidder. Anyone capable of making a vaccine thanks to Ellie would have the monopoly on that vaccine and the capacity to do anything they want with it. Henry doesn't seem like a bad man, but Harry will wait a while before trusting him fully.
As for the Fireflies... Harry still isn't quite sure who they are. Yesterday, Joel told Bill that Ellie had to be brought to the Fireflies because they would be able to use her to create a vaccine. Harry can guess 'Firefly' is the name for an organization, perhaps some sort of pharmaceutical company? Harry isn't even sure proper companies and corporations exist anymore. Bill told him the only places with governments and some semblance of order are called 'Quarantine Zones', which are big cities run under martial law that are getting more and more rare as those zones are abandoned or overrun by Infected.
Harry will ask Joel about the Fireflies when he returns. He doesn't want to divulge his ignorance to Henry, especially if an ordinary person from this post-apocalyptic world is expected to know who the Fireflies are. Harry would look very peculiar if he reveals that he is ignorant of what might be common knowledge.
"Our group comes from the Hartford Quarantine Zone," Henry reveals. "After the military abandoned the Zone, me and Sam got together with other people. We decided we'd go to the Fireflies to seek asylum. They're always recruiting, and we'd probably get a pretty good deal. Most Quarantine Zones nowadays are so filled with people that we wouldn't have found anywhere else to live."
They reach an area where one of the thick trees lined up with the street has fallen down, destroying part of the fence. The tree itself forms some sort of walkway down to the riverbank, with some of its top branches submerged in the water.
"I'll go first," says Henry. "Harry, Sam, you guys stay on the lookout while I go down to check if everything's alright."
Harry takes hold of his firearm and nods. Sam brings out a small handgun and holds it tightly against his body. Content that the two of them are being sufficiently cautious, Henry climbs up on the trunk, his feet digging into the bark. The tree is at quite a sharp angle, so Henry has to crouch down with his hands out to catch himself if he falls as he walks down to the riverbank. Once he is close enough, he jumps off the tree and lands on the ground below. When Henry straightens up, Harry notices that the man's head is at the level of his shoes.
Sam tries to climb up onto the tree too, but it's so massive that he slips and falls down.
And just as he falls, a shot rings out and a bullet whizzes past, aimed at where Sam was half a second ago.
Immediately, Sam and Harry crouch down to hide behind the fallen tree.
Harry manages to get a glimpse of the man shooting at them. He's in front of them, at least thirty feet away. He's hiding behind one of the trees along the road Hary and Sam are on. Every five seconds or so, the man will peek out from his hiding place, gun ready to fire as soon as he can get a lock on a target.
"Fuck!" hisses Henry. He's still down near the river, hidden under the long branches of the fallen tree. "Is it a hunter?"
Sam nods, eyes on the assailant.
"I'm coming back up," declares Henry, moving out of his hiding place.
"No!" whispers Harry. He takes his eyes off the hunter and looks left, eyes aimed downwards at Henry. "You'll get shot immediately if you come up, and I think the hunter doesn't know you're here. You didn't get shot at when you went down, so the hunter must've arrived just after. If he doesn't know you're down there, then we have the element of surprise on our side."
Henry shakes his head. "Well that's all well and good, but if he doesn't know I'm down here then I'm a sitting duck. This tree is the only thing I can use to hide."
"We'll distract him," proposes Sam. "That way you can come up without being shot."
"No way," answers Henry, shaking his head. "You will not be taking risks. You won't..."
But Sam is already running out from the cover of the fallen tree, bold as can be, and running towards the trees on the opposite site of the road to hide.
"Sam! No!" whispers Henry harshly.
It's too late. Sam is already out of hearing range.
Harry fumbles with his firearm, checking to see if it is loaded before pointing it in the hunter's direction. He waits patiently as the hunter decides to abandon cover and stealthily approach Sam's hiding place, unaware Harry hasn't moved from his spot.
Squinting, Harry checks that he is aiming correctly, and fires.
He already feels terrible about shooting people and that he hasn't washed the blood out of his clothes. So he feels even worse when not only does the shot miss by a large margin, he also forgot to brace himself for the weapon's kick and felt the full brunt of it when he shot.
He groans, taken aback by the painful force.
"Should've just blown him up..." he mutters, resolving to stop using firearms and just use Bombarda as his solution for everything.
"He's coming this way!" warns Henry from down by the riverbank. The man is peeking through the metal fence on the edge of the road, leaning up to see.
Harry curses mentally as he turns to look. Sam is still safely hidden, clutching his handgun, but the hunter is coming for Harry's hiding spot.
Why isn't Sam doing anything? wonders Harry. The boy is pretty much frozen in fear. If it's because the boy doesn't want to kill, then shooting the hunter's legs to stop him from coming after them would do the trick.
But the boy does nothing and the hunter continues to advance on Harry, whose arm hurts too much to shoot again.
"Fuck, I'm coming up," declares Henry.
But that's the worse thing to do, because the hunter is coming and will see Henry easily, if he hasn't already. So Harry decides it's time to throw away caution and trust that the two brothers can keep a secret.
He points his hand at the hunter from his spot hidden behind the fallen tree, and casts a spell:
"Bombarda Maxima!"
It doesn't work. It only makes the hunter wary and decide to take his gun out and shoot from where he's standing instead of coming closer.
Henry, who is in the process of climbing up, curses and falls off the tree, landing harshly on the riverbank. Harry can hear the sound of the wood splintering as a bullet lodges itself there. He breathes in, gathering his courage, and tries again.
"Bombarda Maxima!" he cries, his voice louder and more powerful. His arm is vulnerable as he leans out to point it in the hunter's direction, but that cannot be helped.
With great satisfaction, Harry watches as the spell takes effect. The hunter and most of the surrounding street blows up. Chunks are sent out in all directions. Some hit Sam's hiding place, narrowling missing him, others land near Harry, while at least a third ends up in the river.
There is absolute silence as the dust settles. Sam's eyes are wide while he stares at Harry, flabbergasted, from where he is huddled with his handgun.
Henry climbs up the fallen tree, looking warily at the scene of destruction. "Jesus! What happened?" He tightens his grip on his gun and looks around. "Did a bomb go off? Where did it even come from?!" He looks completely confused.
Slowly and inexorably, Sam raises his hand to point a shaking finger at Harry. "He did it," says the boy. "He just pointed at the hunter and the guy exploded."
Henry frowns. "Pointed at the hunter? Man, that's just not possible…" He trails off when he sees the guilty expression on Harry's face. "Really? You can do that?!" He shakes his head violently. "How is that fucking possible? Did you throw a grenade at that hunter or something?"
For a brief second, Harry entertains the thought of lying, but Sam dashes that hope immediately.
"He didn't throw anything," says the boy, coming a little closer now that the danger is over. "He just pointed at the hunter, said some words, and everything blew up. He had to do it twice because the first time it didn't work."
Henry looks at Harry with a mixture of fear and surprise. "I did hear you say something before the street blew up. 'Bombing Maximal', I think?"
Both of them stare at Harry, expecting an explanation. Harry... doesn't know how to explain this. He feels like he is a really bad wizard, because so far every person he has befriended has found out about his magical abilities. Would he have been this bad at respecting the Statute of Secrecy if he was in his own world? He is a failure when it comes to keeping secrets and he really doesn't know how to lie about what Sam saw. Harry took a risk by using magic and although he got rid of the hunter, his actions did not go unnoticed. It's time to deal with the consequences.
"I... I'm a wizard."
Sam and Henry stare at Harry in suprise for two seconds while the news sinks in. Then Henry bursts out laughing, while Sam continues to look utterly puzzled.
"Wizard? Ha ha!" He grins, very amused.
Despite what the man has seen, he still has trouble believing in magic. Sam, however, is quiet and staring at Harry with something approaching wonder.
"You're serious, aren't you?" asks Sam.
The question causes Henry's laughs to die off.
"I am," Harry responds. He points his hand at the fallen tree Henry climbed down earlier and whispers a levitation spell. In front of the disbelieving eyes of Henry and Sam, the massive tree starts floating upwards, a few feet off the ground. Harry keeps it like that for a few seconds, and when he feels his point has been made he gently sets the tree back down.
"Man, that's..." says Henry, at a loss for words. "Magic is real?!" His tone is completely incredulous.
"Yes." Harry's tone is calm, the opposite of Henry's.
"But... But that's not possible!" exclaims Henry. "If magic was really we would've heard of it by now!"
Harry shakes his head. He is a bit surprised that Henry has such trouble believing him, considering Bill, Frank, Ellie and Joel believed in his magical abilities quite easily. Perhaps Henry isn't used to his worldview changing so drastically.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" he says, pointing at Henry.
The man is badly startled as he is raised a foot off the ground, and he flaps his arms like wings to try and control his levitation. It doesn't work.
"Okay Harry, I get it! I believe you! Just set me down okay?!" Henry looks completely panicked. He isn't even that far from the ground, but being held by an invisible force is very difficult for him to take calmly.
Promptly, Harry obeys and sets the man down.
"I didn't want to tell you because I didn't know if I could trust you with my secret," he explains. "We've only known each other for an hour or two so I don't really know much about you and I wasn't sure I wanted to tell you about this."
"You can do magic..." says Henry, still in shock.
"Yes," Harry agrees, "I can. I'm the only person on this planet that can use magic. If people find out about what I can do, they might want to use my abilities for their own gain and try to force me into doing things I don't want to do. That's why the only people who know I'm a wizard are Ellie and Joel... and now you two."
"I..." Henry is at a loss. He doesn't know what to say.
"We'll keep your secret," announces Sam, surprising his elder brother. The boy takes a step forward, pinning Harry with his gaze. "We won't tell anyone."
Henry inclines his head to the side, expression sceptical. "Well Sam, magic is kind of a huge thing. Everyone thought it was just this made up thing from the dark ages. Think of how the world would change if they knew that kind of stuff was real... Thischanges so many things."
Harry sighs. He really hopes he won't be forced to tie these two up and test his non-existent skills at erasing memories. He really can't let these two go if they'll tell everyone about him. They probably won't be believed by most, but some people might take their declarations about magic being realseriouslyand decide to come after Harry to get their hands on this world's only wizard.
"You can't tell anyone about my magic," says Harry firmly, looking intently at Henry. "I don't want to reveal my abilities to the world and you aren't allowed to make that decision for me."
"Aw, come on!" Henry throws his hands up in the air. "This is ground-breaking. It makes Cordyceps look like an ordinary thing. You can't keep this to yourself - the world deserves to know. Do you have any idea for how many hundreds of years people have believed magic wasn't real? This could change the way we see the world."
"No." Harry's glare is fierce. "If too many people know, they'll try to take advantage of me and use me for my abilities. This is my magic so I get to decide who I talk about it to."
Harry's tone was so aggressive that Henry makes a pacifying gesture.
"Okay, I get it," says the man. "I won't tell."
"Promise you won't," demands Harry. "This is serious and I can't afford to have you spilling my secret to anyone else."
Sam has been silent until now, but he gazes imploringly at his brother when Harry finishes talking. The combined stares of Harry and Sam makes Henry fold. He crosses his arms, frowning.
"Okay, joy-killer. I'll keep your secret." And then he adds in a whisper: "I'll just keep the biggest news of the century to myself..."
Content that the issue has been dealt with, Harry turns around to surveil the scene.
There is a large hole in the road where the hunter stood barely minutes ago, and part of a tree has even been damaged, some of it ripped apart to the point that there is only half of the tree left, leaning unsteadily to the side and looking like it won't stay standing much longer. The hole in the road has even reached the fence blocking off access to the river and the rubble left in the hole creates some sort of steep path leading down to the bank of the river. They don't even need to climb down the fallen tree to access the river anymore - all they have to do is climb down the hole opening up to the river.
"I think we should forget our plans of washing up and go back to the others," declares Harry.
"Why?" asks Sam hesitantly.
Henry chuckles. He has realized what Harry means. "It's because the explosion was loud. It might have attracted hunters or Infected. Well, if there are any Infected left in this city. I haven't seen any since I've come here."
Sam looks over at Harry. "What about your clothes? They're soaked in blood and they really need to be washed."
Harry's eyes go down to his clothing and he grimaces. He nearly forgot. While before his clothes were soaked in blood from a hunter he blew up, now the blood has dried and his clothing feels mostly sticky and uncomfortable. He's especially unhappy about the state of his shoes, because although they have been soaked in the same amount of blood as the rest of him, shoes are the hardest to replace in this post-apocalyptic world. Finding changes of clothing is relatively easy, but shoes are harder. Harry doesn't really know why, but it will mean finding another pair of shoes to wear will be a pain.
"I could try something else..." admits Harry. Now that Henry and Sam are aware of his magical abilities, he could use a spell.
He pulls off his shirt and lays it down on the ground. For the spell he has in mind, it's best not to be in direct contact with the shirt. He points his hand at the piece of clothing and casts a spell:
"Scourgify!"
Surprisingly, it works on the first attempt. Unfortunately, it doesn't go very well. Without his wand to control the spell adequately, the spell not only cleans off all the blood, but it takes out all of the impurities in the cotton the shirt is made of, leaving small holes everywhere. A good part of the shirt vanishes as it is seen as dirt, and the fabric left is thin and flimsy. Additionally, the spell is so strong that is cleans a good part of the ground.
"Wow," says Henry, leaning down to look at the shirt. "Was your magic supposed to do that? Because I think that shirt is ruined."
Harry grimaces and bends down to pick up the piece of clothing. Unfortunately, the shirt has been so fragilized by the botched spell that some of the stitching has given out, and one of the sleeves flops down on the floor.
"It's a cleaning spell," he explains. "I'm just very bad at it. I try to practice with it sometimes to get better, but I still can't clean stuff without doing some damage. That's why I use water to clean my clothes."
Exasperated, he lets the shirt drop back down on the floor. It's completely useless and he'll need a replacement. At least he didn't test the spell on his trousers or his shoes - he needs those more than he needs a shirt.
"Let's just get back to the others before hunter show up to investigate the explosion," says Henry. "We'll try to find some new clothes for you tomorrow morning. I'm sure we'll find a house on the way with some stuff you can wear."
Harry looks back at the river behind them.
"Give me just one second," he says, and heads over to the large hole in the road he caused.
The road itself is large, with two lanes and trees on each side. The fact that the hole was large enough to affect the whole width of the road is quite impressive.
Harry climbs down into the hole and heads off to the riverside it opens up to. He walks out onto the bank of the river, his shoes sinking into the soft earth, and heads over to the water. As soon as he gets in, he can see already a large amount of the blood he is covered in is being washed away. When the water reaches his waist, he stops and leans forward to dunk part of his head in the water, scrubbing at his hair furiously.
The whole process takes less than a minute, and when he's done he heads back over to Sam and Henry.
"It wasn't a proper wash," he tells them, "but at least it'll get rid of the worst of it."
Henry nods. "No problem. Now let's hurry back. I really don't want any more surprises here."
