One: Twenty questions while the dead walk?


The man standing at the rooftop wasn't a young boy or teenager anymore. Far from that. Harry was no longer The-Boy-Who-Survived, no longer a husband, a brother, or a friend. He wasn't even the Master of Death right now. He was no longer Lord Harry James Potter-Black. It was easier in this world nowadays to not be himself.

Not that he liked himself most of the time, he only liked Harry in this life. Now he didn't have to be anyone else but himself, he could be just Harry or Hadrian for strangers. For as long as he remembered he had always been someone else; freak, Saviour, the Boy-Who-Lived, war hero, boyfriend. Now, none of that mattered.

Harry looked around the charred remains of the city that used to be Atlanta and listened to the sounds of the walking dead around him. He could not make out any people that were alive. The dead had started walking, a few months back. It had reminded him of the inferi, yet it was completely different. As the Master of Death, Harry had known something was coming, he had felt it in his bones, his complete being, his soul. Harry's soul felt the dead around him as it was its own. The despair, the clawing, the darkness, and yet there was always that proverbial white light at the end of the tunnel.

Draco, being his pratty self, had demanded his presence after Harry did another disappearance stunt, as Draco started calling it. Harry, reluctantly so, had warned his closest friends about his premonitions, the ones who were still with him after the second war and the clean-up of the Death Eaters. Draco had been let off easy, with the memories from Harry, Severus, and Hermione.

Draco had touched his shoulder that evening and told him that he had already started prepping. Neville, who had arrived as quickly as Draco had sent his Patronus messenger, nodded his head at the gathered group. They weren't kidding, they had prepped for an apocalypse. Probably Luna's fault, Harry thought, his mind not on this planet anymore, as Death would occupy his time, now and then.

"You had enough on your plate already, mate," he had registered Ron's voice, but he couldn't pinpoint it anymore. The life he had built for the last five years, had just gone to hell and back again; again. He should be used to it, but was he?

After the war, Ginny had pestered him for a marriage suddenly and he still couldn't believe it. Marry her? While not having finished his education or enjoying that he was alive? Even finding out what he wanted in life? Was he even straight? Was he gay, was he anything? Harry didn't know anything anymore, but grief, after he had defeated Voldemort.

He had decided that he loved Ginny as a sister, a valued friend. Ginny unfortunately did not feel the same way and gave him more hell than necessary. Ron had to fight his full family except for himself and Mr. Weasley and practically the whole wizarding world for Harry's sanity and Harry had felt the guilt run through his full body, but Ron told him that he would stand by him. He would be there for him, no matter what. He and Harry were mates, no matter what. And Harry knew that to be the truth.

Hermione on the other hand had not taken Harry's freedom year well, after trying to bully him into going back to Hogwarts, because that was what he needed according to her. It was anything but what he needed. Every time he saw the forest, he did not see the beauty of the trees and flora anymore, but the dirt and grime. He saw blood, severed people, blown away by one curse or another. Harry saw himself die, saw himself become the Master of Death, he saw everything but the home the castle had provided for him the last six years. Whenever he saw the gates of Hogwarts, they didn't open the way to home, but the home to a graveyard.

Too many people had died that day, too many souls had been lost. Some would say that he was the hero, but as far as he was concerned, the heroes had died on that damned battlefield. He was lucky to make it through the hell that had been the Last Battle, he had buried far too many friends and family members. Tonks, Remus, Fred. Those people were the real heroes! All because of one crazy wizard, Teddy was an orphan.

Harry knew that he still suffered. Astoria, Scorpius' mother had helped him a bit here and there, however, since Harry wasn't ready to talk about it all, he had not been ready to heal and he needed to heal. He did take his N.E.W.T.'s at the ministry, with the help of Minerva, Filius, and Severus. He just did not tell Hermione or anyone else for that matter.

Ron, Draco, and Neville often reminded him that he could pause, wait and heal, but Harry did not want to wait, he wanted to live. Do something with his life. And now it seemed as if fate had made yet another decision for him and he just rolled with the punches.

"Mate?" He recognized Ron's voice, but it didn't register. "Harry." The redhead called out again, a hand softly leaning on Harry's shoulder accompanying the calling of the name.

"Yeah, sorry," Harry turned around.

"Why are we here?" he vaguely waved around the rooftops. Their dragon hide cloaks embedded with various charms such as a cooling charm, waved in the wind and Harry smiled at his magical lifelong friend.

"Because I feel someone who is in desperate need, I just need to pinpoint where." Harry hummed under his breath, trying to stay in touch with his gifts, while Ron just shrugged. Harry's newfound family knew to let him be, they were used to Harry being like this now. They didn't try to change Harry, as far as they were concerned, Harry was fine the way he was.

"Alright mate, let me know if I can help." Ron knew that once Harry made up his mind, the Gryffindor in him came out and nothing could change his mind.

Then he heard it. It was a soft whimper and then suddenly Death was standing beside him. Death was an energy, a lifeform without a form, but very visible to its 'Master'. Harry nodded in agreement and pointed at another roof, a few buildings ahead. They apparated, Ron with a louder pop than Harry, while Harry left with nothing more than a soft acknowledgement of air moving.

The man on the roof was chained to a pipe and trying to saw off his hand. While Ron had his wand in hand and stood on the look-out, Harry didn't even bother with his wand and waved softly to open the lock on the cuff, and he helped the man into a slumber. Being who he was, he had gotten quite strong. Magical and not so magical wise. The scrawny teenager was gone although he never reached the heights he should have, according to Minerva.

"Take it home, I will bring him where he must be. I need to look as muggle as possible." The burly man was rambling to himself, Harry was barely able to understand anything that the man was saying, it was all gibberish to him. While Harry, who was still invisible, threw his invisibility cloak at Ron. He wasn't going to need it if he was mingling with muggles. He always preferred the more Muggle-like looks, so his dragon hide battle robe would look like a regular, long leather jacket.

"Don't you think Draco should look at that wound?" Ron wasn't the best with healing spells and he figured that it might be time to invest in some muggle methods, he couldn't always rely on Draco for everything. That would be a liability in this world.

"No, this guy might register as a squib, but I don't know how much they know. He didn't get far because I compelled him. The wound isn't deep, I'll bandage it with some muggle bandages; Severus taught me. Make sure you raid all the shops Ron; we need all the extras we can get our hands on. Muggle and magical." Harry checked the man's pulse and looked back at his best friend since he was eleven. "Did you take the list Severus and I made? Use the cloak and please stay safe."

"No worries mate, I got it. I'll take George with me; we have practically cleared the whole Alley. I know what to do, Harry. You take care of your pet project. Still Auror trained mate," Ron paused with a laugh while he threw the cloak around him. A cloak he was way too familiar with. "Have your portkey ready just in case and we'll be there whenever you signal."

Harry just nodded. They clapped hands, the unconscious man in his arms and Ron left with his distinct 'pop'. Harry looked at the older man and sighed. Luna would say that his saviour complex was at fault here, but he just could not help it. Death did not help at all either. Pestering idiot. Harry sighed, took a deep breath, and let his wand fall in his right hand from its holster, the man would not notice.

With a quiet legilimens, he entered the man's surface thoughts, careful not to go any further. Briefly, vague thoughts had shown him that the man; 'Merle', had a brother and in these times, family was the one worthy thing. People were much more important than petty squabbles or political differences. He saw an escape plan designed by Merle, the one he was holding now, and got a good visual of where the car was situated.

He broke the charm easily and moments later he apparated them to the car. A soft wave of his hand and the car was quickly unlocked without problems. He carefully levitated the man in his care inside it, at the backseat, so he could sleep. Harry cast the strongest set of notice-me-not charms and wards that he knew of and then proceeded to take care of the incoming group of death. Being the Master of Death sometimes had its advantages; Harry felt dead to the inferi. They had not noticed him until now. Death's aura was his own now and wound tightly around his magic.

He counted a few handfuls, but since the man in the car was still out and would not wake up until Harry lifted one of the wards, he used his wand instead of the knives he kept on his person. He had come quite proficient at that but magic always would come easier. He threw a few slicing hexes around, practically killing the inferi within seconds of being hit by his magic. He should thank Severus and George for that handiwork. It was a bit dark, but he figured that the ministry would be too busy to check on foreign wizards in the muggle world. Harry didn't care about dark or light magic; all magic could be used to kill or maim. The easiest household charm could ruin more than a dark ward. Now with death coursing through his body and soul, Harry knew he wasn't light anymore. Not at all.

He lifted a few wards, crept into the passenger seat, and leaned back. He could not drive since nobody had bothered to teach him. Not that he expected Vernon to do so, yet he found it annoying now. He should have known how to do so, then the man would have been back at the camp he had seen in his head. Now he had to wait until Merle woke up.

After he was seated, he threw a ward stone on the dashboard, which replaced the immediately draining magic and took over. This one was George and Luna's idea; it didn't have a heavy pull on his magic – although with Harry's reserves, that never bothered him – and had some extras built in like a sneak-o-scope and several other detections that had proven useful.

§§§§§

Merle woke up with a headache, a stiff one. Like he had drunk too much, took some coke, and stayed out all night. His mind was fuzzy and his memories even more. His mouth was dry as if he smoked a whole cassette of cigarettes. He smelt the insides of the car he found a few nights ago, so he and Daryl could flee if necessary, and when he looked at his right hand, it was still there. It was bandaged but still attached.

He remembered a roof, being handcuffed and that goddamn nigger and then a soft voice; foreign and different. Then, as his memories came rushing back like a bat at the head at the bar, he noticed the younger man sitting in the passenger seat, asleep. He recognized the dark-haired stranger from the roof, but the rest was foggy. The raven-haired male must have rescued him and stopped him from cutting his hand. He got up slowly and sat upright.

"Good morning." Spoke the stranger, his eyes still closed.

The man wasn't asleep then, Merle pondered on the British accent a bit, but decided against running just yet. A man that helped him get of that stupid roof, away from the nigga and officer friendly, that was a plus in his head.

"Mornin' sunshine," he paused, just to see a soft smile on the strangers' face. A young man with haunted, green eyes, looking much older than necessary. "What ya doing here with ol' Merle in a car?"

"I'm Hadrian."

"Merle," chuckled Merle with his raspy voice and he was handed a canteen of water. "But ya did not answer my question."

"You need to be back with your family, I guess. I couldn't leave you there after I found you." The man's voice was kind, yet his demeanour that of a trained soldier. Vigilant.

"Thank you for saving ol' Merle from them geeks. Guess ol' Merle owes you one now, eh?" Merle hated owing people favours or debts, society had never been kind to him or his brother and for as long as he could remember they had been shunned, it had made him bitter and less quick to trust someone.

"No and you're welcome," Harry gave him some wrapped food and handed another canteen over that Merle recognised to be used for camping trips. "I'll help you get back and then I will return to my family as well."

"Alright then, thanks." Merle didn't know what to say and instead began to gulp down the water and enjoyed the sandwich he was handed. It had some meat with tomatoes and cucumber on it. He couldn't complain at all, this would beat squirrel stew any day.

When he saw no crazy geeks outside, he got out and took the driver's seat, and turned the key in the ignition to drive away. A chance was a chance after all, and Merle never said no to that. "You comin' along for the ride?"

The man just nodded affirmatively.

§§§§§

"It's still a few miles away, wanna play a game?" Merle asked the silent man next to him after a while. He was a strange fellow, walking in this goddamn heat with a long leather jacket and apparently a black button-up underneath it. The green cargo pants with black leather boots were no stupid choice, he reckoned.

"Sure." The man opened his eyes again and then spoke, his voice still husky as if he had just woken up.

"Twenty questions?" It was a fairly simple game, probably nothing too offensive.

"Alright then, mate."

Merle wasn't going to turn down the chance to gather some information on his saviour. Hadrian just laughed softly and leaned back in the car seat. If one ignored the fact that the dead were walking and he had tried to saw his hand off, it was a rather pleasant day.

"One; why are you escorting a stranger to his brother? Unarmed at that!" Merle wasn't going to make himself worry over a stranger even though that he had saved his lily white arse. But it didn't change the fact that this man had been able to save his sorry arse. He did not want to repeat the experience if the guy could not defend himself.

"I'm not unarmed," Hadrian smiled and rubbed his right wrist. He pulled the jacket back, to show a few knives on his belt. "And yes, I'm good with them. My turn: why did you get cuffed to the roof?"

"Aye, slinging the biggies first, eh?" Merle adjusted the visor so the sun would not get to his eyes as much. He had to find some sunglasses somewhere. "Fought with a nigga, he didn't like me and officer friendly cuffed me."

"A police officer cuffed you? During the bloody apocalypse?" The Brit's accent became clearer as he cussed, and Merle just nodded.

"Aye." Despite having only known the other for an incredibly short time it warmed the cold corners of his heart as he realised that Hadrian was angry on his behalf.

"Okay, well. So yes. Next one's on you." Harry looked out of the window as he thought over what he had just been told, how could anyone do that? Especially with what was going on?

"Wher' you from?" Merle took an exit and drove around to avoid being seen on the main road. The escape car had been on the other side of Atlanta, just to be safe. Daryl and him hadn't known what to make of the group, but they liked to keep their options open.

"England, lived the majority in Scotland in my youth and afterwards I moved to London, as every teenager does with a midlife crisis." Harry opened the third canteen of water, that he somewhat miraculously pulled from the leather bag he had in his lap. "Were you drunk?"

"High. Needed to blow off some goddamn steam. Geeks are walking dude, walking!" Somehow this man made him wanna talk and Merle just blamed the sun, the drugs, and the weird combination of it all. He took a deep breath. "Three. Who's waiting for you?" Merle was reluctantly enjoying himself, not that he was going to tell anyone that though. Not even Daryl.

"Geeks? My best friends and their spouses. You?" Harry watched as some clouds floated over them, it was so strange not seeing anything living but them.

"Yeah, Geeks, walking corpses. What do you call them? And that's your third question? And that's your answer?" Merle smiled to himself, while looking out on the road.

"Yep," the man rolled the 'p' and smiled. "We call them inferi, undead, but Walkers seems just as fitting."

Merle grunted and rolled his shoulders. "My brother, Daryl. How did you end up here in good ol' America?"

"Work and my family visited me for a holiday." Harry winced at the thought of the chaos that had happened while they had been visiting him. Although Ron had changed to his Auror mode immediately and of all people, Luna had taken charge, he still wished it wasn't so.

"Some holiday that turned out to be, then ha!" Despite how serious the situation was, Merle tried to lighten it a little, he knew what it was like to worry over family. He had constantly worried over Daryl. Might not have made the best choices himself, but worried nonetheless.

The Brit smiled and the twinkle in his eye was very visible. "My brother says it's my family luck."

"Some luck that is then, sunshine." Merle snorted as he considered what sort of shitty luck the other must have if this happened to him.

The quarry came in sight, and Harry sat upright, his left hand nonchalantly holding a knife. Merle never saw him pull it. "Save the rest of the questions for a later time, will you?"

"Sure thing, mister Brit." Merle figured he needed some extra sleep, after he kicked officer friendly around a bit, the asshole. Cuffin' him to that fuckin' pip. He pulled the car over on the side of the road behind the others and got out of it. The camp's hustle and bustle stopped, as Merle hollered for Daryl, who slowly turned around from being held by the deputy and officer friendly.

§§§§§

Harry had been amused by the rough looking guy and his seemingly soft appearance. He leaned on the car and watched the image of people moving before him after Merle hollered at his brother; "Darileena, are ye comin' to say somethin' to yer brother?"

Harry shook his head and pushed himself off the car so that he could walk out and apparate to his safehouse. He was called back by one of the men with a shotgun.

"You!" the taller one of the two stood before him in a few strides. "Where are you going?"

"Home." Harry just shrugged his shoulders and reached in his leather coat for a leather cuff that had found somewhere and admired. He enchanted it quickly with a few thumb strokes and carved a few runes in there, that he learned from Luna. He couldn't deal with people right now; he had been out enough. He needed to fly and bother Draco or Severus for a whole evening, to vent.

"Merle!" the gruff man turned around, after having given his brother a somewhat awkward man hug.

"Yeah, sunshine?" Merle turned towards him.

"Here," Harry walked towards him, "If you ever find yourself on a rooftop again, just touch that and think of me, okay?"

"Will do, sunshine," The man fastened the cuff on his left hand and smiled. "Don't forget, you still owe me fifteen questions!" Merle wasn't going to let the other man forget, even if they didn't meet up again at any point. It was still something that he could tray and hold the other to even if it never happened.

Harry smiled, clapped the bigger man's shoulder and waved at him. "See you on the other side, Merle!" He ignored the rest of the men and women and with a flick of his hand only Merle would realise that he was walking away. Harry loved magic.