Stick With Me, Kid, and We'll Go Places

HP x TWD

Characters: TWD cast + Harry

Summary: Harry Potter knew very little about America, so of course his 'family' had to take a vacation there right when the zombie apocalypse hit. He's only ten and he's already fighting for his life. Joy.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead, Harry Potter, or ANY of the brand name products mentioned in this chapter.

Chapter 3 Word Count: ~3,414

"So what's your story, boy-o?"

Guillermo glanced between the two misfits, keeping his body relaxed as he waited for their response. The niño seemed extremely shy, despite the playful fire he showed, and even though he kept close to el burro, there looked to be a slight wall between them, something that suggested they had only met recently in this post-apocalyptic world. The Korean watched him wearily as he processed this information, probably weighing his options. Smart. Maybe he wasn't such an idiot after all.

"We won't try to stop you if you run," he stated, breaking the silence, "but don't expect us to save your asses again if you do." The way that Glenn twitched indicated that was exactly what he had been thinking. "You have a group you need to get back to?" The question had been innocent enough, but he wasn't surprised at the tell-tale flinch on the other man's features. He hummed.

"Your little stunt has probably riled up all the cadávers in a mile-radius, so it's not gonna be safe to run through these streets right now without serious backup, boy-o."

"What are you suggesting?" Glenn asked, his voice low and his body tensed.

"A favor for a favor, that's all. We protected you, and in return, you can help us. If you do, we'll make sure you make it to the edge of the town safely. Simple."

The Korean hesitated, furrowing his brows and taking a small step backward. Harry copied him, keeping a tight hold on Glenn's shirt. "What kind of favor?"

Guillermo shrugged, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. "We've been watching you, and we saw you scurrying through the streets like a little rat. There's a hospital a couple miles out - mucho grande - and we need supplies. We can provide transportation, but the courtyard is crawling with cadávers. We need someone sneaky to gather what we need. You. ¿Comprendes?"

"Th-that's a lot to ask…"

"Hey. We saved your lives, and in return, you should help us protect some of ours. Besides, you can take some of the haul back to your amigos. We ain't heartless."

Glenn hesitated for a total of another thirty seconds before letting out a long sigh, slumping forward. "Okay… what's the plan?"

Guillermo gave a small smile, signaling for his men to head home. "We'll start in the morning. For now, you can hang with us."

Was this what a family felt like?

Guillermo's group had only begun to really take route in this zombie-ridden world they lived in, but the mechanic warehouse they set up exuded a comfortable atmosphere. At least, that was Harry's opinion as their savior opened the front and greeted his men with equality - even reached down to hug an older woman visiting with a teenager bent over a car engine.

While his men eyed Glenn and him with wary eyes, they did not outright emit any hostility, just an understandable amount of cautiousness. Harry didn't know how to feel, being in an environment with a group of people who didn't outright distrust him or eye him with disgust. On one hand, he felt completely out of his environment, but at the same time, a small, deep part of him slowly uncoiled in relief.

Ever since he could remember, his Aunt and Uncle had given him glares and tossed him in his cubby whenever he acted out of turn, sometimes not retrieving him until they couldn't ignore the smell of piss or dirt any longer—at which point they would give him disgusted looks and have him clean the mess. He hated that cubby; it was dark and stuffy, and whenever he was forced to go there, he was unable to exit unless it was on his relatives' good will.

The two weeks they had been in Atlanta could be a blessing, if only for the fact that he was so far away from that horrible place, and he would never return. The thought of returning to a unit, let alone one as familiar as Guillermo's, had given him anxiety, but the wide open space and actions of the group assuaged his fears like a cold balm.

He tightened his fingers around Glenn's pants before pushing off the older boy's leg, taking a few unsteady steps away from his closest source of comfort. Glenn gave him a sidelong glance, eyes slightly widened in surprise. Harry smiled before walking towards the boy slaving over an engine, fully aware of Glenn hesitantly shadowing him, but ignoring it because he actually felt slightly safe in the Vatos' place. As grimy and sweaty as it was, these people had, in some way, already started to feel somewhat safe enough to start calling this place home. Call it a gut feeling, but it was there. The harmony of these people, the small bonds stretching between them - there must have been something between them before, but the apocalypse had already begun to strengthen whatever bonds they had.

"'Lo! M' name's Harry!" With careful movements, he slowly clambered up the car's front and peered down at the engine, curious of what the boy was working on. Apparently, Harry had been so quiet, that upon opening his mouth, he gave the boy such a fright that he jumped, banging his head against the car's hood. The older lady perched on a chair chuckled at the boy's pain.

The boy looked to be about seventeen years old, with bright blue eyes, caramel skin, and messy black hair that floated around his shoulders. The boy wasn't anywhere near scrawny, but instead, he had a lithe build overlain by a dark brown tank spotted with grease.

"Fuck! Hey, man, why you sneakin' up on me like… that?" The boy had fully turned Harry's way, and upon the new face and unsure smile, paused his thought process.

"M' Harry! Hullo!" he repeated. "What's your name?"

The boy blinked several times and then did a funny impression of a startled animal, glancing all around for answers before zeroing back in on its target. Harry.

"Uh… why's there a Brit kid here?"

Glenn thankfully spoke up on this one, saving Harry the trouble of explaining the last two weeks for himself. "I'm Glenn. He's with me, and we're here because of Guillermo."

"Huh." The boy silently appraised Glenn before returning to his car engine, for all intents and purposes planning to ignore them.

Harry frowned, leaning back from the engine and pouting. "It's polite to give your name when someone asks..."

The boy scoffed, burying himself further in his machinery. "You guys won't be 'round long enough to remember it anyway."

The nice old lady heaved an exasperated sigh before answering for him. "His name's Samuel, but he prefers Sam. And you can call me Abuela, Harry." If Harry had been a dog, he might as well have been wagging his tail, because the old lady seemed so nice and friendly and he just wanted to run up and ask her lots of questions, but he refrained. Years of neglect and broken trust chained down his impulse to cling to a friendly face.

His Aunt and Uncle never liked it when he asked questions - most adults never did. There was that one time in preschool where the teacher got really annoyed at his questions and had him sit in the corner for five minutes. He had wanted to ask why her hair had turned blue when he turned around, but it seemed that she didn't know either. Also, he was sure that asking would have gotten him into even more trouble. So he didn't.

Glenn was different though. He's only been an adult for a couple years, so Harry guessed that he still had time before he became anywhere near as grouchy as his teacher. Glenn was nice and helpful, and funny too. Sometimes he tried to make a joke that Harry didn't get, and he would only laugh because of the older boy's face. Glenn didn't treat him like his Aunt or Uncle, and he was forever grateful. However, that didn't mean everyone else would be the same.

"What's wrong, niño?"

Harry blinked twice, slowly, snapping out of his musings. Abuela had gotten up from her seat to stand crooked besides him, a hand on his shoulder and a worried expression further wrinkling her aged face.

"O-oh… nothing! N-nothing's wrong!" he stammered, shaking off Abuela's hand and jumping from the car before hopping next to Glenn. Abuela gave him a strange look, but Harry stubbornly stared at the ground. Meanwhile, Glenn shared looks with the elderly woman outside of the ten-year-old's sight.

Only a moment ago, Harry had been a confident ten-year-old exploring his surroundings, void of any shyness, but now he huddled like a frightened animal by Glenn's side. The Korean felt extremely puzzled by the complete one-eighty the kid had pulled and shared an unsure glance with the elderly woman standing by the supremely stubborn teenager still bent over his 2008 Ford Mustang Bullit.

He seriously needed to ask Harry what exactly had gone on in his home life before the apocalypse, because this bipolar behavior was not normal in the slightest. Heck, when Glenn had been young, he jumped at the chance to talk about himself and he would bug the snot out of everyone around him. While Harry showed occasional bouts of normal kid behavior, a lot of it seemed to be hidden under a blanket of anxiety and fear. Those were two feelings kids should not be accustomed to in the way Harry seemed to be.

Carefully, Glenn reached down to pat the boy's head. While Harry flinched at the contact, he didn't immediately pull away, but he didn't really respond either, so Glenn returned his hand to its original position.

"Hey, Harry… it's OK," he whispered, giving a reassuring smile when Harry turned his eyes to his face. "Abuela was just worried about you. No need to be shy. Guillermo promised us that we would be safe here, right?"

Harry slowly nodded, his eyes not quite meeting Glenn's. "Y-yeah…" he eventually answered, grabbing a fistful of Glenn's pants leg.

Softly, Abuela spoke up. "Harry, would you like to go somewhere a little quieter? I've got a friend I'd like you to meet, and I'm sure you'll enjoy him too. He's such a nice man and such a storyteller too! If your big brother approves of course."

Glenn gave the elderly woman a thankful smile when Harry reluctantly nodded, slightly releasing his hold on Glenn's pants leg. He didn't think too much on the 'brother' comment, as the older lady had probably honestly mistaken them as such. Sam still hadn't removed himself from the Mustang, but Glenn wasn't particularly surprised.

"Oi! El Burro! C'mere for a sec. We plannin' for tomorrow an' we need your help."

Abuela laughed. "El Burro, eh?"

Glenn chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. What did that even mean? Dammit, he wished that the internet was still up and running… "I'll be there in a minute, Guillermo!"

Harry quietly followed Abuela out of the machinery-filled warehouse and into a small, rather untouched, fenced-in yard hidden from the undead. His eyes traveled every which way, taking in the green grass and bright blue sky undisturbed by the apocalypse, feeling himself unconsciously relax tensed muscles.

While Harry still felt wary about trusting anyone but Glenn, Abuela was an old lady, so she must be nice. Like Ms. Figg! He kinda misses Ms. Figg and her household of cats, even if she never did much besides chatter about her 'babies'. She was kind and never denied him a snack or a nap. He just didn't want Abuela thinking him a freak like his relatives, because that would hurt… a lot.

"Come on, niño, we're almost there."

"... uh… Abuela? W-what does niño mean?"

Abuela smiled, her kind face radiating warmth. "Why, it means little boy, niño."

Harry nodded, feeling put off at the name, but paused when another question came to mind. "So… uh… what does el burro mean? Guillermo keeps calling Glenn that, but I don't know what it means…"

Abuela tutted, leading the boy inside of what he presumed to be a small nursing home. Each room they passed held an older or disabled person. "Please do not repeat that word, niño. It is a very nasty word that little children shouldn't say. Little niños got slapped when they said such nasty stuff in my day, but I'll let you off since you didn't know what it meant."

"O-ok?"

Finally, the two stopped in front of a closed door with an improvised name tag duct taped to the peeling wood. Mr. Gilbert.

"Here we are!" Abuela softly exclaimed. "Now, niño, Mr. Gilbert is very sick and very weak, so when we enter, be very quiet."

Harry nodded and clamped his mouth shut as the door slowly opened to reveal an elderly, dark-skinned man with patchy silver hair speckled across his scalp and lower face. A pair of spectacles perched on his bulbous nose, the clear, watery brown eyes behind them kind and inviting.

"Ah, well, what do we have here?" Mr. Gilbert said, his voice scratchy and soft. "You brought me a guest, Abuela?"

"Yes, yes. A sweet little niño, he just came in with his brother to visit Guillermo, so I decided to bring him here to hear one of your stories. I'll be a few rooms over with Mrs. Williams if you need me." And then Abuela slipped out the door and was gone.

Mr. Gilbert gestured for him to sit, skin crinkled around his eyes as he focused his attention on Harry.

"Hmmm…. What's your name, kid?"

"M' name's H-Harry, Mr. Gilbert. Harry Potter."

"You from Britain, Harry?"

"Y-yes, sir." Why did everyone wonder where he was from? Was his accent that distinct?

Mr. Gilbert took a moment to cough, pounding his chest and reaching over to his bedside to reach a small device he put to his mouth. After a moment where he took several deep breaths, he once again focused on Harry. "You ever been to London, Harry?"

"Uh… once, sir."

"I've only been once myself," Mr. Gilbert huffed, one corner of his mouth tilted in a half-smile. "It's very pretty there, very old fashioned. I was over there as part of the navy. We only stopped for a couple days to restock our boat, but while there, the Queen of England herself visited our platoon! I couldn't believe my eyes, and even now I sometimes doubt my own memory."

The old man laughed, a faint, raspy laugh that conveyed such joy and humor.

"W-what did she say?" Harry asked, crouched on the edge of the small plastic chair pulled up to the elderly man's bed.

"You've got an interesting group here, Guillermo."

After making sure the area Abuela was taking Harry to was safe (courtesy of Guillermo), Glenn had scooted the little bugger off while he decided to pop a seat and join the men in their discussions. Despite the wary eyes focused on him, he still felt the need to ask about the abnormality of their group.

"We do what we can to survive," the Hispanic man replied simply.

"And that includes sheltering elderlies? I thought that the occupants of hospitals and nursing homes would have been evacuated before the full outbreak."

Guillermo scoffed, crossing his arms. "Well, they weren't. Most of the nurses and workers just up and left them behind, man! Didn't give a shit whether they could fight those damn zombies or not, too busy saving their own asses they were. Felipe had come by and check to see if Abuela was alright and if the place had been evacuated. When we discovered what had happened, we couldn't just up and leave them like that!"

"So the hospital supplies… ?"

"Some of it's for us, but most of it's for them. We've managed to do okay with what was left behind, but we runnin' out. We need oxygen tanks, antiseptic, antibiotics, inhalers, and all kinds of other shit. We ain't expectin' you to do miracles, but we gettin' desperate, amigo, and a pharmacy ain't gon' cut it."

Glenn hummed, furrowing his thin brows and staring down at the warped wood of their improvised table. "You got a list?" Upon request, he was handed a folded piece of paper scribbled on with some sort of coal-like substance. "Okay… hmm… do you have a map or anything? No? Well, then this might be a little complicated."

"Complicated how?"

"Well, besides one time, I really haven't been to this hospital, and since we don't have a map, none of us know its layout. By going in unprepared, I might as well be walking into a death trap."

The men around him gave frustrated grunts, one even growling out a hushed, "So what we gonna do now?"

Guillermo narrowed his eyes and slowly propped his arms on warped wood. "So you sayin' you can't do it?"

Glenn's breath stuttered and he let out a hasty, "That's not what I'm saying at all!" When all eyes were back on him, he stiffened for a moment before forcing himself to relax, if only a little bit. "I-it just means that it might take longer… I'll need to do an investigatory run with only myself. I will need ample weapons in case something goes wrong, but this step should be rather simple, as long as I don't run into any... situations. I'll run in, scope out the place, identify where the supplies would be, and run out. The second trip will be for supplies, and to get all that's on this list, I'm gonna go ahead and say that I will need three guys to accompany me."

So far Guillermo was nodding along with his suggestions, only making a very slight face at the last sentence. When the man didn't outright object, Glenn called it a win.

"A-as you can see, I am not very strong, and in order to get the amount of supplies you need, my companions will be crucial in helping me gather them and providing back-up. I would also like to see if anyone is still trapped within and help them if I can, so we should plan for doing so - "

"And why we gonna do that?" one of the Vatos men at the 'table' spoke up, his voice rough and intimidating.

Glenn froze, his brain going into overdrive. "W-w-well... uh… I assumed from Abuela and the other nursing home occupants that you would help if we found anyone inside the hospital, but uh… it's up to you, I guess?"

"Leave him be, Angelo," Guillermo said, glancing at 'Angelo'. "We ain't heartless," he repeated to Glenn.

Glenn nodded, very hesitantly finishing his plan. "A-Anyway, um, you guys can keep things like inhalers, oxygen tanks, and the like - stuff you guys really need around here - and I'll take… uh… maybe twenty-five percent of everything else."

The Hispanic's eyebrows rose. "Only twenty-five percent, amigo?"

Glenn nodded his head. "From the looks of your group, you're housing about thirty people, right? Well, uh, our camp only has about fifteen so we won't need nearly as much as you guys. Plus, I managed to snag quite a bit in some bags I had to leave when you guys rescued us, so it's fine. It's fine." He put his foot down on the last sentence when it looked like Guillermo was going to object.

"Okay, amigo. Go find your hermano, and I'll set you up with somewhere to sleep. We start in the morning."

A/N: Whew! Dialogue can be so fun, but so aggravating too!

Anywho, here we are introduced (not really) to The Vatos gang (fun fact, when translated it basically just means they are calling themselves The Dudes). Along with expanding a bit on Abuela and Mr. Gilbert, who have very little in the way of showtime, I decided that I wanted to add in a new face; AKA, Sam! While I will not smother you with 'OCs' I would like to add a bit of flavor by adding in additional characters in groups who were left fairly unexplored beyond a few people and a few sentences, so do expect them!

I am not a fan of stories that take a character and do crap all to change the storyline. If you're gonna add something that wasn't there before, do something to make it more than "oh, hello, I'm here, and while I say a few lines, I overall mean very little to the story besides the fact that I shack up with a main character". Like, uh… really? Thanks but no thanks. Therefore, I will be changing things, quite a bit actually. You'll see.

I'm sorry this chapter was a bit of a lull, but it'll definitely pick up! No good story is pure action, after all :D Next chapter should be a long one (hopefully) and we should be back with the group by either the end of next chapter or beginning of the one after that. Maybe. *wink*

Happy Writing~!

_-*Doodling Shadows

EDITED 2/17/2019