Author's Note: Hey, guys! Thank you so much for the feedback, follows, and favorites so far! I appreciate you giving this story a chance and I hope you continue to enjoy it. That being said, I want to let you know that the first few chapters may be a little slow, but the action will definitely be picking up soon. The tone and content will also be getting darker once we get a little further in. So if you think things are a bit boring or tame right now, please sit tight. Everything will pay off.

Just to be safe, I'm going to include a potential trigger warning for this chapter for a brief dream/memory of child abuse. Nothing graphic.

Sirius and Harry shared a cell/room, which contained two bunks, blankets, two pillows, a couple of fresh outfits for each of them, two water bottles to be refilled as needed, and a few toiletries. There were communal bathing/shaving items to be borrowed from in the bathrooms, and they were encouraged to think of other items they would need that could be picked up on the next supply run taking place in a few days. Hershel came by as most people were getting ready for bed to give Sirius more medicine and check his bandages.

"You've already broken through a bit," the old man said with a bit of a smile.

"Er, yeah, sorry about that," Sirius grinned sheepishly.

"Not to worry. We'll change the dressing in the morning, but you should be fine for the rest of the night. If you need something before dawn, though, you can find me in my room. I'm almost directly below you on the first level. Now, we haven't had any issues with walkers in the cell block since we fortified the fences several months ago. We also have people in the watchtower overnight. I still recommend shutting your doors just to be safe, but that's up to you. I realize you may need some time to become comfortable enough with us to do that."

Sirius held out his good hand and Hershel shook it. "Thank you. We appreciate the hospitality."

Hershel smiled, bade them good night, and hobbled away. Once he was gone, Sirius returned to their cell and sat next to Harry on the edge of the bottom bunk. His first instinct was to cast a silencing charm around them, but then he remembered he couldn't do so for the very reason he wanted to speak with Harry covertly in the first place.

"We need our wands back," he whispered to Harry, who nodded. "There's no chance you have the Invisibility Cloak on you, is there?"

"No," Harry said. "There were six of us and we left school in a rush. We had to ditch Umbridge first."

Sirius suppressed a wince at the reminder that he was the reason his godson and five other teenagers had endangered themselves. He checked their surroundings again to make sure no one was close. "It'll have to be Plan Padfoot then. I'll transform in the middle of the night and try to snatch the wands off Daryl. Once we've got those, I can take you by side-along apparation. We'll try to get back to somewhere we know, but I'm not sure that'll be possible. In that case, we'll apparate back to the clearing we appeared in and see if we can find some kind of portal or something."

Harry nodded slowly, his eyes roaming away as he mulled things over. "What will you do if you get caught in animagus form? I think they'd kill a dog if they think it's a threat. You're not exactly a fluffy bunny rabbit."

"If I turned into a fluffy bunny rabbit, Daryl would shoot me on site for dinner. I'll just have to put on my charm as a lovable stray. You can say you saw me before and let me in. They won't harm you."

Harry still looked somewhat skeptical. "I don't see the wands being easy to get to. Daryl's probably going to sleep with them."

"I'll sniff them out. If there's no way I'll be able to get to them, we'll come up with a new plan."

Waiting for everyone to fall asleep was boring, but not challenging, as Sirius had already slept after their arrival to the prison. He knew Harry was still nervous about his plan. Sirius, however, was almost excited, recalling the rush he'd often experienced at Hogwarts with the Marauders before sneaking around the castle at night. Granted, the stakes here were a lot higher. If he was caught, not only would he not get his wand back, but he could be killed if any of these people deemed his behavior threatening. Not having his wand would also make his mission harder in general, though it wouldn't be the first time he'd have to do without it.

Mostly, Sirius just was just eager to get his godson back to…well, not exactly "safety," but to the world they knew and had already been fighting for, and he wanted to make sure their other friends were safe. Remus was probably distraught right about now, even as skilled as he was at remaining calm and collected in the most dire situations. Dumbledore, he knew, had been on his way to the Ministry when Sirius fell through the veil, so the Death Eaters' calamity couldn't have continued much longer. Ron and Hermione had both been seriously injured, but weren't (at least he hoped) in a state near death. Mad-Eye and Tonks had also been unconscious, but Sirius was certain they'd also faced worse.

Either way, being away from where they were supposed to be left Sirius with an itching restlessness, and he knew Harry was experiencing a similar gnawing need to do something.

When Sirius' watch read that it was almost three in the morning, he carefully slipped from the cell, checked his surroundings, and transformed into Padfoot. He had already seen the general direction of Daryl's cell earlier, but he hadn't wanted to explicitly search for it and evoke further suspicion. As Padfoot, however, he could hone in on Daryl's scent and follow it. He could also smell his wand, which had a sort of magnetic pull on his senses. And with both scents narrowed down and guiding him, Sirius was able to focus his sharp ears on the sounds of people sleeping around him, ensuring that he was aware immediately if anyone was up and awake.

He stopped outside the cell that his nose told him was Daryl's and could tell by the man's breathing and heartrate that he was asleep. Sirius stayed low, slinking inside and quickly looking around. Daryl's cell was sparse compared to some of the other cells Sirius had spotted. Others had tried to decorate their spaces and make them more like bedrooms. Daryl, on the other hand, had bare walls, a small pile of clothes, some weapons, some tools, and a few books. Sirius looked back at the man himself, who slept on his side, facing the rest of the cell with his back to the wall. His arms were folded and his crossbow was propped against the bed with a bolt readied. Sirius considered trying to move the crossbow so that it wasn't within Daryl's reach should he wake, but he didn't think he could do so quietly enough. Instead, he looked up and down the bed for any sign of the wands. The scent of his own wand was strong and calling to him from behind Daryl.

Annoyed but unsurprised, Sirius crept to the foot end of Daryl's bed. He expected to see the wands protruding from a back pocket of Daryl's jeans, but further scrutiny proved they were sticking out of the sleeping man's pillowcase, which was even harder to reach. He clenched his teeth. The only way he'd be able to get to the wands would be by actually climbing onto the bed and that was out of the question.

He was considering grabbing Harry to implement some sort of distraction when Daryl groaned. Sirius froze and sunk as low as he could to the floor, knowing he was still too big to remain hidden. He could sense that Daryl was in REM sleep. He kept twitching and was starting to mumble.

"Stop…wait, please…"

Sirius watched, somewhat intrigued, finding himself both uneasy and triumphant. So someone else is a sleep talker, eh? Bloody hypocrite…

Sirius then sensed that Daryl was on the verge of waking, but before he could slink out of the cell unnoticed, the man gave a startled grunt and jerked upright, sitting on the edge of the bed. He took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face and through his hair. Sirius was hunkered down to Daryl's left and knew he would be caught in mere seconds. He carefully stood up and, teetering as he so often did on the edge of bravery and stupidity, trotted up to Daryl with a happy dog's pant and wagging tail.

Daryl glanced in his direction and instantly grabbed his crossbow, aiming it at Sirius without thought. Sirius stopped where he was and tilted his head, emitting the ever so slightest whimper. Daryl glared at him for a moment before lowering his crossbow.

"The hell? Where'd you come from?"

In both an attempt to appear innocent and to hopefully attract Harry's attention, Sirius let out a short, happy bark, wagging his tail and then resting his head on Daryl's bed, looking up at him with his most pathetic puppy dog eyes. Daryl's eyes narrowed and stayed focused on him, but he finally set his crossbow down.

Hurried footsteps echoed from beyond the cell and Harry came jogging to a halt right outside, whispering, "There you are, Padfoot!" Sirius made a show of looking around at Harry in surprise before gleefully bounding over to him and nuzzling his head against Harry's leg until his godson scratched his ears. "Er…sorry about that." Harry laughed nervously, keeping his voice hushed, and ran a hand through his hair. "I saw him outside earlier and snuck him in. Sirius told me to leave him be, but…I reckon I couldn't let him get eaten by walkers."

Daryl sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Ya gotta be careful. I almost shot the poor bastard."

"Sorry. He was sleeping with me and I didn't shut the cell door. Do you think he could stay if I make sure to close it?"

Daryl sighed again and locked eyes with Sirius for another moment. Sirius wanted to growl at him, but instead maintained his dopey dog façade, tongue lolled out as he panted. Daryl groaned and stood up. "Fine. Shouldn't be a problem tonight. You'll have to take it up with our council in the morning, though, if you want him to stay. And your godfather."

"Right. Of course. Good night! Sorry again!"

"G'night."

Daryl walked them out of his cell and then shut the door behind them. Sirius could feel his eyes linger on their backs as they walked away, but then heard him collapse onto his bed shortly after. If he could have sighed in relief as a dog, he would have.

Daryl had a difficult time falling back to sleep. He'd been dreaming of his brother again, as he had been often recently. It had only been a couple of months since Merle had died, after all. In tonight's dream, Daryl's father had towered over him, yelling some nonsense or another, before laying into him. Daryl had tried to fight back, some part of his brain trying to tell him he was an adult now and could do so, but his arms were like lead, lifting only an inch and lacking momentum in his feeble attempts at swings. Any time he punched in his dreams, he had the same experience and it frustrated him to no end. Daryl's father was bent over, holding Daryl up from the floor by the front of his shirt. He would yell something at him, then backhand his face with his free arm. While this happened, Daryl watched Merle walk across the living room to the front door behind their father's back. Once at the door, Merle looked over at Daryl, his mouth half open in uncertainty. Daryl tried to scream and plead with him to stay, but his voice wouldn't come out in more than a throaty croak no matter how hard he tried to shout. Merle only watched him for a moment before opening the door and leaving.

The dream had then faded into a wooded scene, where Daryl was trying to chase Merle. He kept getting glimpses of his brother running ahead of him, either ignoring or not hearing Daryl's calls. Walker growls echoed all around him though he didn't actually see any. Finally, Daryl shoved a low limb out of his way and stumbled to a halt, his brother standing still a few feet ahead. Instinct told Daryl that he didn't want to touch him.

"Merle," Daryl growled. "Merle…Merle!"

Merle finally turned to face Daryl, but not as his brother.

That was when Daryl had awoken, the image of walker Merle swimming before his blinking eyes before he rubbed it away. Then he'd noticed the dog and become completely distracted.

Now that he was more awake, Daryl tried to process his encounter with Harry and the dog. The kid had said he'd snuck it in. When? If it had been while everyone was still up and awake, he would've had to hide the dog in a closet or something until they went to bed. After all, it wasn't like it was a little guy that could've been concealed in a bag or something like a damn chihuahua. No, that dog was the size of a small bear. So did Harry poke outside after they'd all gone to bed? If so, whoever was on watch should have noticed, especially if the dog wasn't already within the fences. Of course, it was easy to get bored in the guard tower and lose focus.

It still didn't quite add up. Then again, Daryl wasn't sure anything really did with these new people. He pulled the sticks out from the pillowcase and began fiddling with them again, rotating each of them in his hands and examining their markings. He still couldn't connect them with any language or civilization he knew of, but he was leading a supply run in a couple of days. Perhaps he could find a book to help him.

"Where's my wand?"

Daryl recalled the words Sirius had uttered upon waking this afternoon. His wand. Is that what these were? Wands? He thought of wizards in stories, like Lord of the Rings, but didn't they use staffs? A staff would be long, like a walking stick, and thick like a branch. No, wands were more like what the folks at magic shows used, tapping their hats to make rabbits appear. Those guys were crocks, though, right? They were full of shit, deception being their true magic.

But Daryl did think Sirius and Harry were being deceptive. Only they weren't trying to pretend they could do tricks. Maybe they were trying to pretend they couldn't…

Daryl remembered how they had pointed the sticks at him earlier. He pointed the sticks at the ceiling above him, wondering how he would make them shoot fire. Imagining there was a black top hat before him, Daryl tapped at the air with the sticks.

Nothing happened. He rolled his eyes and put them back in his pillowcase.

The morning was stressful, to say the least. Sirius had let Harry sleep only another two hours before waking him up again and transforming back into Padfoot. Harry then trudged back downstairs with the dog alongside him, not having to pretend to be annoyed to be up so early. The pair passed Daryl and Hershel sitting at a communal table, the older man eating oatmeal while Daryl seemed to be preparing to leave.

"Well, good morning," said Hershel.

"Morning," Harry yawned.

"Daryl told me you brought a friend in last night." Hershel smiled at Sirius, who approached him with a happy gait and nudged the old man's hand. Hershel laughed and began petting him. "Seems like a nice fella."

Daryl was organizing a small satchel, but Harry was fully aware of how closely he was watching them. "Yeah, I like him. Bloke woke me up whining, though. Think he needs to go outside."

"Dogs are often early risers. Do you think you're ready for that responsibility?"

"I suppose so. It's worth it if it means he won't end up walker food."

"I'm assuming your godfather doesn't know yet."

Harry rubbed the back of his head, making a point to grimace. "Er…no. He's still sleeping. I promise to talk to him after he's up, but please don't wake him. He's too proud to admit it, but he was really embarrassed to be caught having nightmares yesterday."

Harry ignored the reproachful side-eye Sirius snuck his way while Daryl's lip twitched.

"Not to worry, son. I don't think it's a pressing enough matter to disturb him. And between his injury and the painkillers I gave him, I think it's best he gets as much rest as he can right now."

"Right…thank you. Well, I'll see you in a bit then." Harry patted his leg and Sirius gave Hershel a quick lick on the hand before following Harry back toward the door. Harry reached to open it before pausing. "Do I need to check in or anything with whoever's on watch outside? Make sure they don't shoot us?"

"Nah," Daryl growled, hoisting his crossbow over his shoulder and standing. "Tony just came in and enough folks will be up soon to have eyes on things without a guard. I'll head out with ya. Bout to leave anyway."

"All right," said Harry, trying to ignore his encroaching nerves.

The plan, as he and Sirius had so carefully whispered earlier, was for Harry to get up shortly after Daryl did on the pretense of "taking the dog out." Once outside and out of Daryl's sight, Padfoot would "run off," Harry returning inside alone to say that he wasn't sure where the dog went. Then Harry would help Sirius sneak back inside when Daryl wasn't around.

They hadn't accounted for Daryl accompanying them outside. Harry wasn't sure if this would be detrimental to their plan or if it would actually make it easier to execute.

Sirius trotted ahead of Harry and Daryl and began sniffing the ground, moving in nonsensical circles and zigzags before stopping alongside the nearest fence and lifting his leg to urinate. Harry probably would have laughed if their situation wasn't so strenuous. He cast a furtive glance in Daryl's direction, but the man was unreadable. Sirius returned to sniffing around the courtyard.

"Make sure if he craps ya clean it up," Daryl muttered, heading toward the gate.

"Where are you going?"

"Huntin'." Sirius bounded over to Daryl as he opened the gate for himself. Daryl waved a hand at him. "Nah, you ain't comin'. Get back."

Sirius trotted away from Daryl and began to "investigate" the ground surrounding a picnic table. Harry stood there and rubbed idly at his arms in the cool dawn breeze, hoping he looked nonchalant. He and Sirius began walking through the courtyard at a relaxed pace until they finally saw Daryl disappear into the woods. Once he was out of sight for a few minutes, Harry looked around, bent over slightly, and began scratching behind Sirius' ears.

"I'll see if Hershel's still there," he muttered. "You…run around, I guess."

Sirius nudged Harry's hand to show he understood and bounded off. When Harry reentered the cell block, Carol had taken Hershel's place at the table, sipping something from a mug.

"Morning, Harry." she said, watching him look around. "You need something?"

"No. Thank you. I'd just been talking to Hershel before going outside and was wondering where he'd gone."

"He's in the other cell block. Steve's been having stomach problems so Hershel's probably checking in on him."

Harry nodded, feeling awkward. "Right…thanks."

He headed back up to his cell, knowing he couldn't return immediately back outside. He kept glancing at Sirius' bed as he changed into day clothes. Sirius had stuffed clothing under his blanket to make it seem like the bunk was occupied. No one appeared to have touched it, so hopefully no one had noticed anything. He sat on his own bed for a moment, drumming his fingers and wishing he had something he could do to pass a few more minutes, and then sighed to himself and stood. He headed back down the stairs and to the common area.

Carol was still sitting there. Harry moved quickly toward the door in an effort to avoid conversation. He didn't want to answer any questions that could expose him and Sirius, and he could feel Carol watching him with as much scrutiny as Daryl. He almost felt like he was trying to do something sneaky in front of Professor McGonagall.

She remained quiet, however, and Harry was able to get back outside unbothered. The sun was already a little higher and brighter than it had been when he'd first come out a few minutes ago. Harry scanned his surroundings as he walked alongside the building and was relieved not to see anyone else outside.

"Padfoot!" he called. "Come here, Padfoot!"

He rounded a corner and jumped when Sirius, now a man again, almost walked into him from the opposite direction. Sirius clapped Harry's shoulders and winked at him, jerking his head back toward where he'd come from. Harry followed him, still looking around and feeling anxious.

"It's all right. No one's out here," Sirius said. "I've been patrolling the area and haven't smelled or heard or anyone since you came back."

"Where are we going?"

"Found a different door. Looks like it leads closer to the cafeteria."

"Why not just go back in the way we came? Carol was the only one there."

"This'll be better. We can say I got up while you were busy with the dog and that we were both looking for each other. Besides, that Carol's a shrewd one. I think she's acting as Daryl's eyes while he's off."

"Yeah, I think you might be right." Harry looked over his shoulder just to make sure Carol wasn't following them as they spoke. Then, as they reached the door Sirius was talking about, Harry grabbed his godfather's arm. "What do we do now?"

"We go back inside and try to find something we can do to be useful around here…show we mean well."

"No, I mean about getting our wands back. Who knows how long Daryl's going to be gone. We can't wait around here forever."

"We can't go after Daryl either. These people pay too much attention not to notice their newcomers going missing at the same time that he happens to be out. Even if we get to Daryl without anyone coming after us, we can't fight him without wands. He's got the upper hand there." Sirius cast a bitter eye at his bandaged hand. "I definitely won't be able to sneak up on him as Padfoot. I'm too big to be stealthy enough for him. He'll get a bolt in me before I get within ten feet."

Harry rubbed at his head, which was beginning to ache again. "Then what do we do? We need to get back. Soon."

"I know, mate, I know. Just…give me a few hours. Once I've got a good plan in mind, I'll sneak you off to let you know and we'll make it happen after Daryl's back. In the meantime, keep following my lead and seeing what you can learn without drawing suspicion. Our story?"

Harry exhaled a deep breath. "We came to the States—"

"Which state?"

"Erm…Pennsylvania?"

"Right."

"We came to Pennsylvania with my mum and dad to visit friends you shared. The walkers came. We found a bus—"

"Not a bus. Say a van. They might ask us to show them to it in case they want parts off it, and we can't guarantee finding one nearby. A van is simpler."

"Right. We found a van that could fit us all and traveled South. My parents and your friends were killed along the way. You and I got here within the last week, walkers made us crash the van and we had to flee, and we've been on foot with few possessions ever since."

Sirius nodded, giving Harry a strange look that Harry wasn't sure how to read. Then he cleared his throat, nodded again, and opened the door.

The small, battery-powered alarm clock beeped and Carl groaned back at it. He turned it off and stayed where he was, feeling the sleep sucking him back into blissful unconsciousness. He considered letting it keep him there, but a stern voice in his head that sounded like his mother's reminded him to be responsible. He had to tend to the pigs. He groaned again and sat up.

After dressing, Carl joined Maggie and Beth for breakfast.

"Who's got Judith?" he asked.

"Your dad," said Maggie. "I think he was gonna change her and then take her with him to show the new guys the ropes."

Carl chewed on his eggs and nodded, thinking about the conversation he'd overheard between his dad and Daryl last night. He wondered if his dad had been swayed by Daryl at all or not and whether he thought Harry and Sirius were dangerous. Carl had thought a lot about Daryl's words before falling asleep the night before, and he found himself conflicted.

When Carl first met Daryl, he saw him as a paranoid hothead, but the more he'd gotten to know him, the more he realized how astute Daryl really was. He followed his gut and seemed to be right about things more often than not. His dad, on the other hand, still wanted to see the best in people, which was something that Carl wanted to do too, but not at the risk of the people he loved being in danger. Carl couldn't help believing that if Daryl had doubts about Harry and Sirius, they weren't unfounded.

Yet, from his own observations, Carl didn't see any red flags at this point. Harry had definitely held back somewhat in talking about himself, but it didn't strike Carl as unusual. He himself had become more solemn and less outgoing since losing Sophia and his mother. At least he still had his dad and sister, not to mention the rest of their group. Harry's real parents were both dead and he had no siblings. If there was anyone else out there he cared about besides Sirius, he didn't seem to know their fates.

Carl hadn't had the chance to speak much to Sirius yet. He had seemed polite enough and Harry had demonstrated a genuine fondness for his godfather. He recalled Daryl's words about Shane, though, and his suggestion that Sirius could have killed Harry's parents without Harry knowing. In Shane's case, Carl hadn't been aware of just how off the deep end the man was going until it was too late. He knew now that he was a little older and had gained more life experience that there was a lot Shane and his parents had never divulged to him. He guessed his mother had been falling in love with Shane before learning Rick was alive, and that Shane had probably resented Rick for returning. He knew that there was a lot of tension among Shane and his parents, enough for Shane to resort to attempting murder, but Shane had also been very good to him. He'd given Carl advice, taught him things, protected him, scolded him, and comforted him. It was hard to swallow that the same man who'd cared for Carl so much could also betray him in such an unconscionable way. The more Carl dwelled on it, the more it made his stomach sick, even now, and that was why he always redirected thoughts of Shane elsewhere.

Until last night. Until he overheard Daryl's short but weighted comment and had to try to determine if Sirius was another Shane.

If Harry was another him.

"What do you think, Carl?"

Carl glanced up from his eggs at the sound of Maggie's voice. "Hm?"

"What do you think of Sirius and Harry?"

"Oh…" Carl finished chewing and swallowed. "They seem cool."

"I liked them too. Sirius was pretty charming considering he looks a bit like a vampire," Maggie grinned.

Beth poked at her eggs with her fork. "He looks like he would have been cute when he was young, but then did too many drugs and aged quickly. Like a rockstar."

Maggie was still smiling, but she widened her eyes reproachfully at Beth. "That's not fair. He did lose a lot of blood his first day here, and probably hasn't slept much if he and Harry have been on the move a while."

"True. Harry looks pretty pale and tired too. Just not quite so much."

Carl rolled his eyes. "Are you guys only interested in their looks?"

Maggie's features softened. "Of course not. We're just poking fun. Actually, I'd really like to ask them more about England. I've always wanted to travel there."

Beth smiled sheepishly. "I'm jealous of their accents."

Carl looked from one sister to the other. "And neither of you are worried about whether we can trust them or not? Daryl seems suspicious of them."

"Daryl's suspicious of everyone."

"Besides," said Maggie, "even if they do prove untrustworthy, we can handle it."

Carl considered that for a moment before nodding. He found it a very simple but reassuring thought. Even if Sirius was another Shane or there was something else sinister going on with the newcomers, there was no reason Carl's group couldn't handle it after everything else they'd been through so far.

Sirius watched with genuine fascination as Rick led him and Harry along the fences. On their side were people with various makeshift spears, many of which were metal and wooden poles that had a knife or something similarly sharp fastened to the end. On the other side of the fence were the creatures Rick's people most commonly referred to as walkers. The Muggles were yelling and clanging their weapons on the fence to attract the attention of walkers that roamed nearby, and, once the walkers approached, stabbing them in the heads. Sirius observed that they aimed for the head every time and recalled how the first walker he and Harry had seen had only gone down for good when Daryl shot it in the head. Simply setting them on fire was clearly not enough, and he had to conclude that these were not Inferi, but something different.

Rick, holding baby Judith in one arm, explained that they had a few shifts of people on "fence duty" each day to kill walkers in the vicinity, the idea being to keep their volume from building to the point of bulldozing through the fences. This also kept the fields and woods beyond the fences clearer for those out on errands, whether it was Daryl going hunting, someone chopping and collecting firewood, farming, or groups going on supply runs.

"I figure this is the best place for you guys to start," Rick said. "It's fairly monotonous, but safe and still important work." He then frowned and squinted downward at Sirius. "But I don't want you to worry about starting today. This'll likely be pretty hard on your hand."

"Ah…it's all right. I've got two." Sirius held up both hands and wiggled them.

"You'll need two, especially if that's your dominant hand that's injured. Getting the pikes through the holes and driving them fully into the skulls with just your weak hand isn't so easy."

A burly black man wearing a beanie approached Rick from behind and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "He can start at an easy pace today if he wants something to do and take breaks as needed. Walker flow is light right now anyway."

Rick nodded and looked back at Sirius. "That work for you?"

"Definitely," said Sirius, tilting his chin upward slightly.

"All right. Here are your weapons." Rick handed one to Sirius and one to Harry. "This is Tyreese." The man behind Rick smiled and held up a hand in greeting. "Let him know if you need anything or have any questions."

After Rick left, Tyreese beckoned for Sirius and Harry to follow him further down the fence, away from most of the other people on duty. "Like I said, not a lot of walkers out today, but it looks like we got a few wandering this way from the other direction. You don't gotta hurry to get them over here. Just make sure you get their attention if they start heading off toward the woods. Once those have been taken care of, just hang tight in this area in case more come your way or stray from our other folks. Someone will come by to relieve you in a couple hours."

Sirius nodded, as did Harry. "Thank you very much."

"Glad to have ya."

He moved back down the fence and Sirius turned his attention to the small cluster of meandering walkers that were slowly ambling their way from off to the right. They were still quite far away and, judging by their stumbling gait, would take quite a few minutes to reach them. Sirius sighed, not relishing the idea of standing around with little to do, but he was also somewhat eager to try killing walkers, even to do so the Muggle way.

From what he had picked up in conversation and observation so far, humanity all around their current world had rapidly dwindled due to some kind of virus. The body of anyone who died reanimated into a flesh-eating corpse until, apparently, taking a hit to the brain. In other words, the walkers were not the humans they once were, but monsters.

Sirius immediately thought of Remus, who had consistently referred to himself as a monster since adolescence, but he quickly shook the guilt away. Remus only transformed one night a month. The walkers were in a permanently hopeless state of mindless consumption, lacking in thoughts, feelings, redemption, or salvation.

"They're so used to this," Harry said, looking down the fence at the Muggles. Two women stood side by side, grinning as they shared some kind of casual conversation. One of the women narrowed her eyes, carefully aimed her weapon, pushed it through the fence with acute precision and into the skull of a walker, and pulled the weapon back to her side. Then she went back to chatting with her friend.

"I'm sure it took some time," said Sirius. "They'd probably be quite flummoxed in our world at first."

"It's just…strange. Everything's felt so hopeless this last year, like nothing was ever going to be right again, but here…blimey…"

Sirius smiled wryly, knowing exactly what Harry meant. Their own world was currently weighed down by a terrible threat with a government that chose to be in the dark, persecuting and distributing power to the wrong people. Harry, as an adolescent, was dealing with the weight of peers and the public believing him to be a delusional, attention-seeking prat after experiencing great trauma; attending school under the thumb of a tyrant; and trying to stay alive while a murderous dark wizard with a vendetta against him walked free. Sirius himself was confined to a house full of unhappy memories while the rest of society thought him to be a traitor and mass murderer. Everyone in the Order was risking both their lives and their freedom on a regular basis as the stakes became higher and higher. Yet, none of them were worrying about basic necessities like food, water, and shelter. Nor were they seeing friends and family being eaten alive or having to put their loved ones' bodies down to prevent them from killing others.

"It's probably fair to say that our worlds are differently but equally damaged," Sirius muttered, watching the slowly approaching walkers.

"Yeah…I'm starting to think I'd rather have to fight these things than Umbridge and Voldemort." Harry snorted. "At least with the walkers, it's not personal."

Sirius laughed. "They don't discriminate when it comes to who they kill."

"They don't damage your reputation."

"Generally more pleasant looking than Voldemort."

"And more pleasant sounding than Umbridge."

Sirius laughed some more as Harry did the same alongside him. His heart swelled with appreciation for his godson and that he'd inherited his dad's ability to laugh through hard times. A part of him wondered if it wouldn't be so bad for them to stay in this world, where things were difficult but where Sirius would be free and Harry would be no more marked for danger than anyone else. They could finally be together as a family.

Guilt immediately washed over Sirius. It was a selfish thought, because even if Voldemort was miraculously defeated without his or Harry's help, Harry still had so many people he would miss back home. Not to mention the poor kid deserved to live a peaceful life, which was still possible in their world if they could right things, but this world beyond the veil seemed to have no such chance.

Still…

He readied his weapon as the walkers finally came closer to the fence. The first one came directly toward Sirius, mouth opening and closing like a piranha's, yellowed eyes wide, withered fingers curling through the air in mindless grasps. Sirius aimed the weapon, trying to support it with his good hand as much as possible. He aligned the point with the bobbling forehead and, with a growl that matched the volume of his undead target's throaty snarl, shoved the weapon through the fence. He drove it through the walker's gray skin and held it in place there until the walker went still, and then yanked the weapon back from its head and through the fence, watching the body fall with a sense of triumph.

Staying here wouldn't be so bad.