Chapter 9

Draco was cutting the air in frenzied strikes as the man proceeded to move towards him. He faintly heard his name being called by a familiar voice, but he was too wrapped up in preventing the monster currently snapping his teeth at him like a furious doxy. The problem was, he knew the antidote for Doxy venom. He wasn't sure there was one for whatever it was that infected the man.

And if he let him get close enough, the man would eat him alive.

A shout of triumph escaped his lips as he finally hit the man square on the head. However, the hit wasn't deep enough. The skull cracked around the axe's blade, but it was not far in enough to cause the significant damage he needed to the man's brain. Draco made to jerk his arm back, pulling his weapon. But it was lodged and unmoving as he tried to pry it free, the stick leather handle slipping in his sweaty palms.

Draco's eyes grew wide.

The man appeared to take on a maniacal grin, snapping at him only inches away as Draco held the axe in his hand, the handle slipping closer to him as his grip gave way against the strength of the hungry undead man. He reached out to Draco, trying to pull him towards his gurgling and bloody mouth.

"Malfoy! Over here!"

That voice, He knew that voice, he had started to think he may never hear the narcissistic Slytherin's drawl again...

"Seriously, Malfoy, c'mon!"

Now it was Granger.

Darting his eyes towards the two, he briefly glimpsed Granger and Zabini next to the ladder on the side of the trailer. A woman was stumbling towards them, falling over the body of the younger girl with a hammer sticking out of her head.

A hand landed on his arm in a vice-like grip, pulling the wizard towards him as Draco's distracted eyes had been elsewhere.

Panicking, Draco tried to shake him off, nearly falling on his backside as he stepped back blindly over some of the scattered camping supplies. He could hear the man's blood-filled mouth gurgling as it breathed air into dead, nonworking lungs.

"Draco!" Granger's voice was frantic, likely because of the other muggle nearing them where they waited for him. Draco swallowed his fear and gave the axe a hard jerk, pulling it free, his arm flying and nearly losing the grip on his weapon as he turned to sprint. He stumbled over the uneven ground, reaching where his comrades were climbing the side of the trailer.

Draco took to the ladder just behind Granger. Her feet slipped, slowing down her ascent as she tried to quickly get to the top. Draco had to pause his upward climb, just as he felt a hand grip his leg.

"Bloody hell!"

He looked down to see the woman. Her eyes were pale as they looked up at him, her gnarled hand gripping his leg as she pulled it to her mouth.

Oh hell no.

Draco kicked out, connecting his foot with the woman's head. Her grip loosened just as Granger threw herself over the top of the trailer. Draco scrambled up behind her, breathing heavily as he looked down at his legs from where he sat, which were still unbitten and unharmed.

"How the bloody hell are you still alive, Zabini," Draco gasped out as the undead spouses now reached up towards them from the side of the vehicle. They somehow knew that their party had moved up there, but they were too dumb to figure out how to climb up and get them.

Thank Merlin for that.

"No thanks to your lot," the disgruntled Slytherin replied. "I fought off Parkinson. Stabbed her right through the eye with my own wand, then flew after you."

Draco turned to Zabini in surprise. "Your broom works?"

"Barely." Zabini furrowed his dark brows. "It kept glitching, and I would have to stop and give it a few minutes on the ground then try again. I was lucky enough to not run into any more of them things. I even flew over some houses that still looked unaffected by everything. Yet again, I also saw some neighborhoods where those monsters are everywhere. The whole world is going to absolute hell I tell you."

Draco frowned. Was nowhere safe anymore?

"Eh, you two," Granger cut in.

"What is it, Gryffindor."

Draco turned to look at Granger. Half her face was bloody, her arm still hanging awkwardly beside her.

He pursed his lips, considering how much that must have been hurting her. She had nearly broken it again trying to lift that branch before. He still didn't know what possessed him in going back for her, he had been free to get away.

There was just something about being alone, even if he was stuck with a crippled, and annoying, know-it-all.

He also just couldn't forget about how she had saved him not once, but twice now.

"That over there," she said nodding towards the trees on their other side. Her jaw was clenched and her expression looked exhausted and wary.

Following her gaze, Draco looked out to see that they weren't still in the middle of the forest, but on the edge of a large campground. The trailer they sat upon was located in a private corner, a small gathering of trees bordering a path just large enough to fit the vehicle through.

Ignoring the two walking dead muggles, Draco observed that they also weren't the only ones on the campground. Though there was no one in sight, he could see a few trailers and even one set of tents.

The campground likely hadn't been as packed as it would have been during peak season, but a few people were out risking the cooling weather.

A breeze cut through the area, the open tent flaps rustling in the wind. Just visible to his eyes at the distance was the unmistakable splatters of blood on the walls of the tent.

Wherever they were, it had been affected by whatever was going on.

So much for going somewhere uninhabited and safe.

Draco cursed. "Where the hell are we?"

"Deep in Dartmoor National Park, I reckon," Zabini replied. "I remember flying over Devon before it got all green. The pitch should be around here-"

"Are we even close to the Quidditch pitch?" Draco burst out in frustration. His theory had been that the anti-muggle wards would mean the place was empty. However, now as he contemplated the decision, he realized how dim-witted it had been.

If his broom wouldn't even work properly, who's to say the wards were still up and functional?

"Look, over there," Granger said, pointing with her good arm. In the distance passed the campsite, he could make another gathering of trees, some structures, and running water. "Looks like we are near the River Dart. It runs through the moor... my parents took me out here when I was young."

Draco heard a sadness in her voice as she referred to her parents.

That reminded him, with everything going one, how were his own parents?

Funny how thoughts of his mother and father hadn't even occurred to him until then.

He ran a hand through his hair, the pale blonde locks having slipped from the neat style he had them in to brush his chin. It had grown longer since his Hogwarts days – as if he were trying to distance himself from the child he had been once before.

"The Pitch wasn't anywhere near the water, if I recall," Zabini stated. The trailer under them rocked slightly as the male muggle banged into it.

"Granger, do you know where it is from here?" Draco asked, turning to the Gryffindor witch.

She frowned. "I've only ever apparated there or portkeyed in."

Draco could barely hide his shock. "Granger...you don't know?"

She turned her sharp eyes to him. "Well, you were the one flying us there, Malfoy. I would have hoped at least you knew where it was."

She had him there. He shot a gaze down at the gurgling muggles. They continued to reach their clawed hands up to them in an attempt to reach them. Their hissing sounds were grinding against his nerves. They couldn't just sit there all day, waiting for the two muggles to topple their protection over.

"I figured once we were overtop it I would recognize it easy enough," he muttered in response.

"You realize it probably looks different now. They had to replant and rebuild the stadium..." she trailed off, likely remembering how the last cup they had all attended ended.

They were silent a moment, remembering how the death eaters had ransacked the attendants. Draco remembered how he had mocked Granger, saying he'd laugh at her when the death eaters caught her.

He felt a tingle of revulsion for the daft idiot he had been before. Holding that attitude towards muggle-borns hadn't done him, or his family, any good.

Draco glanced at Granger out of the corner of his eye. He could practically see her mind working as she tried to think a way out of this predicament for them.

She was a fighter, probably more so than him – he'd give her that.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. They needed a way out of this. Sure - they could likely manage to kill the two dead things reaching up for them, but what then?

He looked back to where he could just make out the river. If he listened carefully, he could hear its rushing water. Following it could lead them to somewhere more familiar, opposed to wandering aimlessly through the forest. But to get there, they had to cross the campsite – something Draco wasn't all too thrilled to do.

He looked to Zabini, who was looking at them expectantly. He was standing up on the trailer, his arms crossed and eyebrows raised as he watched Draco and Granger think.

"How did you find us?"

"Luck, if you'd call it that," he answered. He then laughed softly, "I was flying on overhead, then landed just a little bit out of here, trying to remember where the damn Pitch was. I wasn't even sure you two would be there. Then I heard a commotion from where I was at, followed the noise to see you two taking on the dead ones."

Draco pursed his lips. Pure luck, that was.

He just hoped there was more of that to be had if they were ever going to survive.

Granger nodded, standing to her feet. She winced as she tried to balance herself. He only saw the pain in her eyes for a moment, until it was gone and a hard determination was there instead.

She looked them both in the eyes individually then looked back at the river.

"I have a plan."