Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Walking Dead and I don't earn any money with this story.

Author's note: I warned all of you about the previous chapter, but you read it before now anyway ;) As promised, here's the next chapter.

Rating: M

Warning: nothing in particular

Harry killed the walker, before it had the chance to rip flesh out of his arm. It was already far too late, though. The brunet had been infected or rather, the latent infection had now been kick-started. Daryl was staring at the profusely bleeding bite wound in horror. A clear contrast to Harry, whose face was a blank mask with a hint of resignation at the ragged edges.

"You should return to the Sanc-", the brunet started inflectionless, but was quickly cut off by Araminta, who was furiously glaring.

"Fuck no! Daryl, grab Severus and portkey back," the witch called over, while wrapping her hand around Harry's wrist and apparating with a loud bang. The ruckus was sure to bring even more walkers into the store in no time. The brunet quickly dragged the unmoving bodies off Severus, killing oncoming walkers whenever necessary, and finally took hold of the wizard to transport him back to the Sanctuary.

They arrived in an unfurnished room to the sound of arguing. Harry and Araminta were facing off, almost snarling at each other.

"-been thinking?! There's no remedy. I'll get a fever, turn and then what? You'll put a dagger through my brain then? If you'd-"

"There's no remedy, yet! We haven't put much focus on looking for one so far, but we can start now!" the blonde witch countered stubbornly. Daryl wanted to agree with her so badly, but he remembered everything they'd leant in the CDC all too well. There was neither a remedy nor people researching one.

Then again… maybe magic had an answer?

"Maybe you'll find one, that would be great," Harry conceded wearily, shoving up his glasses with the back of his hand to rub over his eyes. "But it won't be one for me. I have three more days at most and I doubt we'll find something in that time."

"Animals don't turn." The words were out of Daryl's mouth before he had much time to think about them, but they were true. As far as they knew, animals didn't become walkers when they died and the wizard had the chance to use that to his advantage. If there was even the smallest possibility that Harry could be healed, he wanted him to hold on until they'd found a way. To hold on so they could actually discuss what had happened in the wand store barely two hours prior. He wanted to get to know him, to kiss those lips countless times and… he wanted the brunet to live most of all.

"That- I don't-" The wizard looked conflicted, but didn't outright dismiss the implied suggestion. Both Araminta and Daryl stared at him imploringly, until Harry finally sighed in resignation (although Daryl did see a glimmer of hope in his eyes). "Alright, fine! At least until Severus is back on his feet. Get him to Maurice, okay?"

Daryl released the breath he'd been holding as he watched the transformation from human to bird in slight relief. They hadn't solved the problem, but they'd at least gained some time.

Jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire, that's what the last twenty-four hours had felt like to Daryl. After they'd transported Severus to the sick bay and leaving him in the capable hands of their resident healer and doctor Maurice, Araminta had told him what had happened in the store.

Apparently one of the doors had been secured with a strong ward that had literally exploded into Severus' face. The rooms beyond had been inhabited by quite a few store keepers and their families, who'd sought refuge after the zombie apocalypse had started. At least one of them had probably been bitten by a walker or died of natural causes and then turned the others.

Upon hearing that both of their leaders were in critical condition, the members of the Sanctuary had been shocked, but there had been a surprising lack of panic. Most had been utterly unimpressed, though, when Lori had tried to assert Rick as the new leader and promptly ignored her. Daryl had to agree. He knew that the former cop had good leadership skills, otherwise he wouldn't have followed him, but…Rick seemed to be on the edge of snapping and was in need of some serious down time to process everything that had happened in the previous months. Also, there had already been a small council for emergency decisions in place.

Fortunately, it wasn't needed for long.

Severus had already woken up and due to the wonders of magic, he'd be back on his feet within a few days' time.

When Daryl opened the door to the sick bay, the older man and Harry, who was hopping around on Severus' sheet covered knee, were locked in a stare down (or, to be more accurate, a glare off). It was actually hilarious to watch considering one of them was currently a ball of fluff and feathers.

"Why must you always insist on being such a rash dunderhead, Potter?" Severus finally spat out, his fingers clenched hard enough into fists to turn his knuckles white. Harry started to chatter angrily in response, but he didn't disrupt their eye-contact. "Yes, you could have left me there! How are we-" The wizard uttered a frustrated sound and pinched the bridge of his not inconsiderable nose. Maybe to stave off a headache.

"Ya can understand 'im like that?" Daryl wondered as he stepped closer to the bed and leant his crossbow against the wall next to it.

Severus huffed, but didn't let his gaze stray away from the bird in front of him.

"No, I'm a Legilimens, similar to Ms. Kowalski – Araminta. I have the ability to enter a person's mind and interpret what I find there and no, it is not simply 'mind reading'. The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure!"

Daryl raised his eyebrows in bemusement. He hadn't even implied such, but considering the amused sounds coming from Harry, it was probably something Severus had stated repeatedly in the past and was getting sick of doing so.

"Why'd you call me here?" Daryl inquired instead of reacting to the legilimens topic, which was probably the safer bet.

"During our… discussion about Potter's death defying and deadly shenanigans in the past, it has come to my attention that he has, in fact, been bitten by a basilisk. Although not as instantly lethal as its gaze, a basilisk's venom kills within minutes. As you can see for yourself, he is still alive… to the surprise of everyone unfortunate enough to- Potter, desist from nipping my arm!"

Another glare off commenced, during which Daryl was trying to wrap his mind around the existence of basilisks and Harry's apparent penchant for dangerous situations. What exactly did 'deadly shenanigans' mean anyway?

"So, what happened?", Daryl pressed with a curious squint and a spark of hope unfurling inside his body.

Severus firmly tugged his sleeve out of the younger wizard's beak and looked up.

"Phoenix tears. The headmaster of Hogwarts, the school both Potter and I attended, was bonded to a phoenix called Fawkes. Apparently he appeared at Potter's side and cried into the wound, healing it. I'm highly confident that the tears will work in this case, as well, but unfortunately I no longer have access to them and phoenixes aren't exactly numerous."

The brunet turned to the side and picked an old, leather-bound book up from the bedside table.

"I found a summoning ritual in one of the books I was able to save from my personal collection. The core of Potter's former wand is one of Fawkes' feathers, which means we already have one of the key ingredients. A few of the remaining items are in my potion storage, but we are still missing some. If you're amenable to it, I want you and Ms. Kowalski to procure them, while I prepare the ritual."

"Sure." That was a no-brainer. If there was something he could do to help, he wanted to do it. Harry fluttered over to him and settled on his shoulder, carefully nipping his ear. The action was familiar, but sadly no longer comforting. Not while knowing that the merlin couldn't turn back into a human without dying.

Getting the items wasn't too difficult. To be honest, the constant apparating around the state was the worst thing about it. They gathered all kinds of plants, broke into a jewelry store in search for ametrine and had to fight off a group of fucking huge spiders to gather some of their webs. A walk in the park really.

Meanwhile, Severus had declared one of the empty rooms in the Sanctuary as a ritual chamber and was drawing a complicated circle with all kinds of symbols – runes – on the floor of it. His burns and cuts had mostly healed by now and Daryl was yet again fascinated by how quickly magical medicine did its job.

Two days after they had set out to prepare for the ritual, they were ready to actually perform it. The necessary potion was brewed, the gem stones and crystals were placed on the summoning circle and the gleaming red phoenix feather lay in the middle. Daryl, Araminta and Harry were standing close to the wall, far away from the circle as Severus poured the potion over the feather, stepped back and began to chant in a language Daryl didn't recognize.

The air around them started to crackle as the lines of the circle were slowly traced by light and the static made his hair stand on end. A few minutes passed and the light became brighter until Daryl had to close his eyes. He saw an even brighter flash behind his closed lids, then Severus' chanting ceased and the light disappeared.

The brunet blinked his eyes back open and regarded the summoning circle. The chalk lines, crystals, gems and the phoenix feather were pitch-black, maybe charred and the circle was empty.