To say that it had been an awkward car ride back to the prison was an understatement, and that was even with Harry and Sirius only being with two of the other people on the supply run instead of the whole group. Sasha and Tyreese stayed quiet, seeming lost in their own thoughts. Harry had an urge to try to explain himself further to them, but he didn't want to do so until everyone was present.

Sirius seemed to be of the same mind. The two of them occasionally exchanged uncomfortable glances in the backseat. Harry was nervous, but glad to have his wand with him again, and even more glad that no one was trying to take it from him. He figured it had to be a good sign that the group trusted Harry and Sirius enough to sit behind Sasha and Tyreese in a car for over half an hour with the ability to use magic.

After what seemed like forever, they all pulled up to the prison. It was mid-afternoon, when everyone else would be scattered around the prison to tend to their various responsibilities. The supply run group all exited their respective vehicles with their packed bags and unloaded them together in a common area of the main cell block, where they would be organized and properly distributed.

"How'd it go?" Rick asked as Daryl limped by. "You okay?"

Daryl had stopped, his eyes wandering around as if he wasn't sure where he was. "We need to have a meeting. All of us. Everyone."

"Okay…" Rick said slowly, glancing at Harry and Sirius as they approached. "You want to get everything distributed first? Maybe sit down a bit and rest that leg?"

"Can't wait."

Daryl glanced over his shoulder at them and then kept walking. He had the agitated energy of someone worried he'd catch something contagious, which annoyed Harry. He understood the shock of the situation, but he and Sirius had still just saved him and most of the group. Yet they were being treated like a threat instead of allies.

After the group had surrounded the two of them at the store, Sirius had said, "Accio weapons!" and magically summoned everyone's guns, knives, Michonne's katana, and Daryl's crossbow to all lay at his and Harry's feet. Most of the group had appeared shocked or scandalized, Michonne looking like she had just been stripped of her clothes while Daryl looked ready to murder someone.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Sirius had said, sounding impossibly calm. "I'll give these back in a moment. I just want to make some things clear."

Sirius had then gone on to explain that they were wizards, that they had accidentally ended up in the prison group's world, and that they only hoped they could stay with the group until they found a way home, but that they would leave them alone if unwelcome. Harry had then emphasized that they would use their magic to help them however they could and that they meant no harm. At this point, he'd nodded at Sirius to return their weapons. He'd looked around at the group with hesitation, but then sent their weapons flying back to each of them with a flick of his wand.

The group had picked their weapons back up with equal uncertainty, most of them looking around at each other for silent cues. Maggie pointed her gun at Harry and Sirius again, but lowered it when Glenn shook his head at her. Tyreese holstered his gun and nodded at Sasha to do the same. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, apparently trying and failing to find words, before giving her brother a stern look of warning and reluctantly following his lead. Everyone gradually lowered their weapons or put them away until Daryl was the only one still aiming his.

"Going to try to take my other hand?" Sirius had challenged, pointing his wand at Daryl.

Harry put a hand on Sirius' arm but also pointed his wand at Daryl. "Would both of you come off it already? Look, we've still got stuff to gather. Let's just…do what we came here to do."

Sirius and Daryl had glared at each other another moment before simultaneously lowering their weapons, Daryl stalking off without taking his eyes off Sirius.

Now, back at the prison, Harry followed Sirius and the others to gather around the courtyard. He began to feel even warmer than warranted by the sun as he watched men, women, and children come together from different directions, muttering and looking around in confusion as they found places to sit or stand. Carl emerged from across the courtyard and caught his eye, shrugging at him as if to ask what was going on. Harry only swallowed and found himself grimacing at his new friend when he meant to smile.

"Don't worry," Sirius whispered behind him. "We'll make them understand."

Not reassured, Harry stayed silent as Daryl, Glenn, and Sasha spoke in fast but hushed voices to Hershel and Carol. Harry remembered that the five of them made up the prison community's council and realized they must be trying to quickly go over the situation. Carol was making incredulous exclamations and glancing from Harry and Sirius back to Daryl, Glenn, and Sasha as if she was being told a sick joke. Hershel was more neutral, his brow creased in thought as he listened. After another minute, the council moved toward the center of the courtyard to speak. Daryl, Glenn, and Sasha all looked as if they'd just woken from a deep sleep and were trying to process the dreams they'd just had, while Carol continuously shook her head and Hershel's head remained bowed.

"Sorry to disrupt your day, everyone," Glenn eventually said, speaking loudly enough for all to hear. "Before you get too worried, no one was hurt or killed during our run today. Everyone made it home safely."

"So what's going on?" a woman Harry didn't know called out from the crowd.

"I'm getting to that," Glenn muttered. "Well…by now, most of you have met Harry and Sirius, the newest members of our community." Harry grit his teeth as everyone simultaneously looked over at him before returning their attention to Glenn. "They came with us today and…and we learned some…things…about them."

He paused again, clearly hesitating, while everyone's gaze began shifting to and from Harry and Sirius with impatience and distrust.

"They, uh…they…"

Sasha stepped forward from next to Glenn. "They're wizards. They can do magic."

Reactions among the crowd varied from nervous laughter to eye rolls to people exclaiming things like "come on!" and "I don't have time for this."

Sasha addressed Harry and Sirius directly. "Show them."

Harry looked over his shoulder at Sirius, who nodded and replied with a calm, "Very well." He walked to the center of the courtyard to stand by Sasha and held up his wand for everyone to see. Many people laughed.

"What is this shit? I've got a pipe to finish fixing," a man with a backwards baseball cap said.

Smirking, Sirius pointed his wand at the man, whose hat transformed into a duck. The man yelled and began flailing his arms as the duck quacked and stumbled on his bald head, its feet trying to find traction before it flew off and landed on the ground. Everyone in the crowd stared and gasped. A clearly amused Sirius pointed his wand back at the duck and transfigured it back into a baseball hat. He then made the hat levitate and slowly float back over the man's head. The man, who seemed to be on the verge of hyperventilating, snatched the cap as soon as it landed and began turning it over in his hands repeatedly as if looking for some kind of switch or secret compartment.

Sirius then looked at Sasha in askance as everyone spoke with mingled fear and excitement. She nodded at Harry.

"Him too," she said. "Harry, can you show them something?"

Harry nodded and stepped forward, joining Sirius. He glanced around, not sure why he felt so nervous, a sensation that was amplified when his gaze met Carl's, whose mouth was open in shock, brow furrowed in…was that disgust? He looked back toward the general crowd, careful not to let his eyes land on anyone in particular.

"Er…" he tried to think of simple, harmless spells he could do to prevent everyone from being afraid. He pointed his wand up in the air. "Vermillious."

Red sparks shot upward and many people "oohed" and "ahhed."

"These are tricks," Carol said, shaking her head. "These are things that could be done at magic shows."

"Hex me," Sirius said to Harry.

"What? No way."

"You don't have to harm me. Do something you'd practice at school. Pretend I'm someone in the D.A."

Harry ran through duelling lessons he'd conducted with members of the D.A. and tried to think of something that he could do that Sirius couldn't be accused of faking a reaction to.

"Okay…ready?" When Sirius nodded, standing there with his arms raised as if in surrender, Harry pointed his wand at him. "Densaugeo!"

Sirius's teeth began to grow rapidly, protruding from his mouth as his visage scrunched into a snarl. His eyes glinted with obvious anger, but he turned in different directions, keeping his hands in the air, to show everyone in the crowd what was happening. Harry made sure to stop the hex before his godfather's teeth grew too large, and then, once everyone had gotten a good look, Sirius pointed his own wand at his mouth and shrunk his teeth back to normal size.

"Happy?" he growled at Sasha. She looked back at the other members of the council, all of whom appeared amazed and confused but convinced. Even Carol was speechless.

"Listen," Glenn said. "Listen!" he spoke up when the crowd wouldn't stop talking. "I know this is hard to take in, but we already live in a place where the dead come back to life. Why can't wizards exist too? Except these guys weren't trying to harm us like the walkers do. They used their magic to protect us."

"May I, Glenn?" said Sirius before addressing the crowd. "Look…this isn't our world, but while we're here, we're happy to help you by any means we can, whether that's killing walkers, mending equipment, or even helping heal minor injuries."

Sirius held up his maimed hand, magically removed the bandages, and then held up the hand for all to see. He pointed his wand at it, looking focused, and even Harry watched with interest, as he knew little of healing spells himself and didn't realize how much knowledge Sirius had of the matter. It occurred to him that after the Marauders' full moon escapades during Lupin's transformations, it would make sense for Sirius to know a fair bit about how to heal injuries.

The wound was red and purple with crusty bits of green and yellow scab forming around it, some fresh blood trickling from the hole without anything covering it anymore. After a few seconds of Sirius focusing his wand on it, everyone watching with baited breath, the blood disappeared, the skin scabbed over until the wound was closed, the colors faded away, and the scabbed parts of the skin turned smooth. All that remained was a light red circle on the palm and the back of Sirius's hand.

Everyone gasped as Sirius rotated his hand around for them to see. "It isn't fully healed and there's still a little pain." He flexed his fingers testily. "But it's much better. I couldn't grip anything before. Now, I can. And…I'm no longer in danger of infection. A trained healer back where we come from could fix it completely."

Sirius took a few more questions from the crowd while Harry quietly observed, aware that the tone was gradually shifting from fearful and skeptical to curious and excited. He looked back over toward Carl, whose arms were crossed. He was either unaware of Harry's gaze or was deliberately avoiding eye contact with him.

Glenn finally told everyone to stop badgering Sirius and Harry for now and to go back to their business as usual, and the crowd somewhat begrudgingly dispersed. Harry was about to make his way over to Carl when Carol stepped in his way.

"Council meeting," she said, her calculating eyes shifting between him and Sirius. "Come with us, please."

"Yes, ma'am," said Sirius, and the two of them fell in step behind Carol, Daryl, Glenn, Sasha, and Hershel. Harry noticed his godfather was smirking slightly.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

Sirius winked at him. "We've got to have a little of bit of fun, haven't we?"

The pain in Carl's toe from kicking a stool only added to his anger, which he wasn't sure he entirely understood. All he knew was that he had been let down, been fooled by someone he thought he'd finally found an equal in. Harry wasn't his friend. He was a liar and a freak. Daryl had been right not to trust him or Sirius, and Carl had been an idiot to think they were good. What was worse, Carl couldn't understand how the group was allowing those…those people…to stay in their home after what they'd discovered. Harry and Sirius were dangerous, probably more of a threat to them than the walkers, and Carl's makeshift family was welcoming them with open arms. What the hell was wrong with them?

"Carl?"

Carl, leaning forward against a table, released a deep breath at the sound of his father's voice. He tried his best to keep his tone even as he replied with a terse, "What?"

Rick approached and stood next to Carl, lowering his head to make eye contact with him. "You all right?"

Carl scoffed. "Are you kidding me?" He pushed away from the table and faced his dad, the temper he was trying to keep at bay returning right back to the surface. "We're seriously letting them stay with us? They're wizards!"

Rick sat down, sighing. "I'm still processing all this myself." He stared ahead of himself at nothing in particular, drumming his fingers on the table. He looked back up at Carl, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "These people…they can do magic."

"Exactly! We have to get them out of here!"

"Why do you say that?"

Carl massaged his temples as he tried to contain his disbelief. How could his own father be so shortsighted after everything they'd been through? "Because they can kill us all like that!" He snapped a finger. "We could have all the guns left in the world and they'd just…turn them into rubber chickens or something! They can wipe our whole group out no problem."

"Or they could help us drastically improve things around here. Keep us safer, help us get more food…"

His dad's impossible calmness was grating to Carl. He couldn't remember ever wanting to shake him so badly, not even when he disagreed with his decisions about Woodbury.

Woodbury. His dad had trusted the people of Woodbury and they were now contributing members of their community. His dad had trusted Michonne and she was now one of Carl's favorite people. He sighed and slowly sank down to sit next to his dad as a calmness started to finally settle over him. He didn't have to trust other people. Trusting his dad had never steered him wrong before.

"Why are you so sure they wouldn't use their magic to hurt us?" Carl asked, at least needing some insight into his father's logic.

"Well, for starters, Glenn said Sirius and Harry took all of their weapons at one point during the run." Carl opened his mouth to react angrily before Rick emphatically continued, "But…they returned the weapons back after explaining their situation. They could have killed them right then and there. Hell, they could have killed us all outside just now, while we were all gathered in one place, most of us unarmed. They said they're from another world, which is…" Rick laughed. "It's about the only way to explain their existence here. The walkers aren't magic or supernatural. They're products of disease. But wizards? Magic? They have to be from another world, and if that's the case, it makes sense if all they want is to get back home. I don't see any hidden agendas there."

Carl mulled all of this over, not finding himself entirely reassured, but still somewhat more at ease. He sighed. "Where are they now?"

"With the council," Rick replied. "I think—where are you going?"

Carl was already walking out of the room.

It was quiet around the council table. He couldn't speak for anyone else's reasons for not talking, but for Daryl, the adrenaline of the day was finally dying down. The shock of witnessing magic and learning that there was an entire other world where wizards existed was wearing off. His leg was aching more noticeably as he sat, and his eyes were suddenly becoming heavy. He urged himself to start their conversation so that this meeting could be over and he could go lie down for a bit, though the words refused to form in his brain. Instead, images played in his head as if he was trying to piece together broken clips of a film. When he finally did speak, it was almost as if on autopilot.

"So what animal can you turn into?"

Everyone else looked at him as if he'd startled them, but Daryl was focused on Harry, who looked confused for a moment before understanding. "None," the boy replied. "That's just Sirius."

"So, what…he's just special?"

Sirius cleared his throat. "While I'm flattered, no. Turning into a dog is something I can do because I chose to become an Animagus."

"Ani-what?"

"Animagus. A person who can turn into an animal at will. It's something you can become if you follow an arduous process that requires a lot of time and complex magic."

Hershel sat up straighter with a knowing smile. "You're the dog that Harry wanted to adopt."

"Yes, sir."

"Why were you being a dog while in my cell?" Daryl growled.

"I was trying to take our wands back from you. I thought it would be easier to accomplish as a dog. Then you had the audacity to wake up."

Daryl leaned forward. "Ain't nobody who can sneak up on me. Not no walker, not no human, and definitely not no dog."

Sirius looked like he was about to retort, but to Daryl's disappointment, Sasha cut him off. "Okay, okay, we've established that Sirius can turn into a…"she sighed, sounding as tired as Daryl felt. "…turn into a fucking dog…Can you guys tell us more about how you got here?"

Sirius and Harry exchanged looks before Sirius answered, "In simplest terms, a magic object back home seemed to act as a portal to this world. We don't know much more about that than any of you do."

"Does that object exist in our world?"

"No, ma'am. My hope is that Harry and I can return to the same clearing Daryl found us in, where we first appeared, and find a portal to return us to our world." Something shifted in Sirius's gaze and Daryl quickly recognized it as a drop in confidence.

He doesn't believe they'll find anything but doesn't want the kid to worry.

Daryl sighed. "Tell ya what…tomorrow morning, I'll take you back to the clearing to see if we can find your portal."

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him before softening slightly. "Thank you."

"In the meantime," said Carol, "you said you could use your magic to help us. Can we discuss what you can contribute to our survival while we've got you?"

Daryl tuned in and out the rest of the meeting. Glenn, Carol, Hershel, and Sasha listed different tasks and responsibilities they had at the prison, while Sirius and Harry listed ways they might be able to make such responsibilities easier with magic. Sirius explained that, as an adult who had finished all of his schooling, he had a broader, more advanced repertoire of magical skills than Harry, who was still learning. Sirius made a point, though, to brag that Harry was exceptionally skilled for his age and that he still had a lot to offer despite not being done with school yet. Apparently, witches and wizards didn't take math and English classes like Muggles did. They took classes like Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, which, admittedly, sounded a hell of a lot cooler to Daryl, who found himself wondering if he'd have been a more attentive student in the Wizarding world.

Before he knew it, everyone else at the table was standing up to leave. Daryl belatedly followed suit, trying not to grimace at the pain that shot up his leg as he put weight on it again. He took a moment to steady himself, but before he could take more than two steps away from the table, Sirius approached him. Daryl noticed that Harry was exiting the room without him, casting an uncertain glance their way before leaving.

"You got a backup plan?" Daryl asked Sirius before the latter could speak.

Sirius held eye contact with him for a moment before sighing heavily. "No, I don't."

"You best come up with one. If that clearing don't got anything for ya, you gotta have something to tell that boy to keep his hopes up."

Sirius offered him a wry smile, and Daryl noticed for the first time how exhausted the man truly looked, all bravado cast aside. "Believe me…no one understands that better than I do."

Daryl nodded. "We'll take my bike tomorrow, tell the kid to stay put here. That way if we don't find shit, you got a chance to think things through before breaking it to him."

"I…thanks." Sirius cleared his throat. "Anyway, wanted to offer to look at your leg, see if I can try anything."

The shelf had landed just a little above Daryl's knee, so the actual injury was on his thigh. He shook his head. "I ain't taking off my pants in front of ya."

Sirius scoffed. "I grew up in a dorm with four other lads. It's nothing to fuss about."

"Nah." Daryl stepped around Sirius and began to walk slowly toward the door. "It ain't broke. I'll be fine."

Sirius followed him. "Suit yourself, you stubborn git."

Carl waited outside the council room, leaning against a wall a few feet away down from the door. He knew better than to try eavesdropping, especially with how impatient Daryl, Carol, and Sasha had already looked before the meeting. He wasn't about to test them. Besides, he wasn't so interested in what they said during the meeting, but in what one individual said to him afterward.

The door eventually opened and said individual trailed out behind Glenn, Carol, Hershel, and Sasha before letting the door shut behind him. Carl moved away from the wall to meet him, trying to plaster on a polite smile for the adults as they passed.

Harry looked tired and somewhat apprehensive, and that was before noticing Carl coming his way. It made Carl hesitate briefly about his confrontational intentions, wondering for a moment if he was being too harsh, but he reset his resolve, deciding to remain firm.

"Hey," he said gruffly to the older boy, who was also a little taller than him. Carl allowed his chin to come up slightly. Harry opened his mouth, but didn't speak, his features wary but apologetic. "Let's talk."

"All right."

Carl led Harry through another couple of passageways before stopping, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. Harry took another few steps forward before realizing Carl wasn't walking anymore and turned to face him, waiting. Carl swallowed. His hands were trembling slightly. He held a finger to his lips with one hand and reached under his shirt with the other hand, removing the gun he had hidden in the waistband of his jeans and holding it up, pointing it at Harry, who visibly stiffened.

"What are you doing?" Harry hissed.

"Being careful," Carl replied. "I just need to ask you some things. On my own."

"So put the sodding gun away and ask me!"

Carl shook his head. "You can blast me to bits easily if you decide things aren't going your way. This is just so we have a level playing field."

Harry stared at him, eyebrows up, and exhaled deeply. He looked annoyed but like he was truly trying for patience. "Fine then. Carry on."

"Okay," Carl breathed. "First thing's first...why here? Why this world? Did you have any idea where you were going before you were transported here?"

Harry began massaging his forehead. "No, no idea why we ended up here. We didn't plan this. Your guess is as good as mine." His hand came down, having shifted his bangs to leave the odd scar on his forehead visible once again.

Carl pointed at it. "What's your scar from?"

"A dark wizard tried to murder me," Harry replied through clenched teeth. "The curse rebounded and hit him instead."

Carl's curiosity was piqued. He wanted to switch gears and ask more about that, but decided it wasn't as important at the moment. He gripped his gun more firmly. He had to focus to prevent his voice from wavering with the next question he asked. "Were you telling the truth about your mom?"

Harry frowned. For a moment, Carl could see his eyes take on a faraway appearance. Then they lit up with understanding and he shifted awkwardly. "Yes…"

Carl narrowed his eyes. "But…?"

"She…" Harry sighed. "She is dead. I just changed the context of how it happened to fit with your world."

"How did it really happen?" Carl could hear his voice quiver, but couldn't help it.

"The wizard who did this to me," Harry pointed at the scar on his forehead, "killed her first. She did die to protect me. He told her to step aside and she refused. Because she died to keep me safe, she ensured I stayed safe even after she was gone. Her sacrifice set a sort of magic in motion that shielded me, so his curse didn't kill me like it should have even though I was…I was just a baby."

Carl felt his mouth drop open and he unknowingly lowered his gun a little. "You were only a baby when she died? You never even met her?"

"Yep. Same with my dad."

Guilt and pity flooded Carl at this declaration. If he was really honest with himself—really, truly honest—he would admit that his newfound ill feelings toward Harry weren't just about discovering he was a wizard who had been lying to him and who posed a potential threat toward his family. He had also been finding himself jealous of him. People at the prison already seemed to like Harry more, the adults had been willing to let Harry go on the supply run, and then, to top it all off, the guy could do magic. He had powers that Carl could only dream of, powers that Carl would love to use to protect everyone and show people like the Governor who was boss.

But what good were those powers if the people he cared about protecting were dead and gone? Those powers didn't stop Harry's parents from dying before he could even get to know them. For Carl, watching his own mother die and being the one to ultimately snuff her life out, despite it being the humane thing to do, was one of the most traumatizing experiences he had ever had, but at least he'd gotten to have some time with her. He'd gotten to laugh with her, play with her, be comforted by her, taught by her, and, perhaps even more importantly, he'd gotten to say goodbye to her. Her final words of love and encouragement before she died were seared into Carl's memory, keeping him company when he felt alone or scared and giving him strength. Plus, he still had his dad and even a little sister.

As far as Carl knew, Harry had no close blood relatives.

"I'm sorry," Carl sighed, his voice heavy with sincerity. Harry only nodded. "I have one more question, though, if you don't mind…" Harry waved a hand. "How can I trust that you don't have a hidden agenda? That you or your godfather won't use your magic to hurt my people?"

Harry stood there, staring silently at him for a moment, looking genuinely thoughtful. "There's no way I can prove it to you right here, right now." He started walking toward Carl, hands raised. "But…I swear on the memory of my mother and yours that Sirius and I will not use our magic to harm you or your people."

He held out his hand. Carl looked down at it for a moment, swallowing a dry lump in his throat, before looking back at Harry, whose eyes had a fiery glint to them Carl had never seen before. Carl put the gun back in his jeans and shook Harry's hand.

"In memory of Lori and…"

Harry smiled. "Lily."

Carl nodded. "In memory of Lori and Lily then."

Sirius found himself in immense inner turmoil. On the one hand, it felt amazing to be on a motorcycle again, the wind and sun hitting him simultaneously in a way that tasted of peace and freedom. Everything he was worried about disappeared for a little while as he soared past an endless expanse of trees and felt alive again.

On the other hand, he wasn't the one operating the motorcycle, and was riding bitch to none other than Daryl. The only time Sirius had been the passenger of a bike and not the driver was when he and James had been wasted after James' bachelor party and Sirius had let his friend have a go at riding. James had gotten one street away before losing balance and sending himself and Sirius skidding across the pavement, hurt as hell but too drunk to care (at least until the morning). Sirius had only expressed gratitude that he'd gotten James to agree to keeping the bike on the ground instead of taking it to the air.

Now, Sirius was straddled on the back of Daryl's motorcycle instead of his own and made sure his hands remained at his sides, even when they took steep curves or when Daryl decided to burst forward at a higher acceleration just for the hell of it. He would rather fall off and crack his skull open than have to grab Daryl's waist for stability.

It was the morning after the supply run and the two men were on their way back to the clearing that Daryl had originally found Sirius and Harry in. Sirius had explained to Harry that his godson wasn't to come because Daryl insisted on traveling via bike to save on gas, and the bike could only fit two people. Of course, Sirius had promised that if the portal was there, he would send Daryl back immediately to pick Harry up while he waited for them and watched to make sure the portal didn't disappear or anything.

The reality that Sirius had lain awake almost all night thinking about, however, was that he had good instincts when it came to magic, even to the more mysterious parts that he didn't really understand, and those instincts were telling him that no such portal would be present. As much as he kept trying to consider other potential ways of returning to their world, none that didn't require outside help (outside help as in help from another witch or wizard) came to mind.

"My bike can fly, you know," Sirius said at one point on their ride, feeling the need to ensure that Daryl wasn't too cocky about their current position.

"You got a bike?" Daryl called back over the wind.

"That's right, mate. A '59 Triumph Bonneville."

Daryl grunted. "The hell you mean it can fly?"

"The bloody hell do you think it means?" Sirius playfully swatted Daryl's back with the back of his hand, arching a brow when Daryl twitched slightly at his touch. He hadn't expected to startle him. "Means I enchanted the fucker so it can fly! I used to take that thing up into the clouds, over cities and countrysides…Got close to a couple of your Muggle airplanes too." Sirius grinned as he remembered seeing a half-asleep Muggle woman in an airplane window do a doubletake as he winked at her and then swerved back out of sight.

"That some kind of slur?" Daryl asked.

Sirius took a second to return to the present. "Wha—oh…Muggle? No, it's just a general term we have for non-magic people." He then winced to himself with secondhand embarrassment. "Though, there is a slur for your kind, believe it or not."

Daryl was quiet for a moment before replying, somewhat heavily, "I believe it."

Not much later, the men were walking through the woods after parking Daryl's bike on the edge of the road. The area looked somewhat familiar to Sirius, but he begrudgingly admitted to himself he'd never be able to navigate properly without Daryl leading the way, not that he would say such a thing out loud. Besides, if Daryl hadn't rendered Sirius dizzy with blood loss in the first place, he might have been able to pay better attention to their surroundings.

Daryl slowed and held a hand up as they stepped into the clearing, mumbling, "Think this is it."

Sirius nodded in lieu of saying I think you're right. He pulled out his wand as he looked around, not missing the wary side eye Daryl cast in his direction as he did so. Sirius ignored him, though, and began searching for signs of magic, muttering incantations and trying different revealing charms that would indicate if there was a magical object or presence nearby. He held his free hand out in front of him, slowly waving it to see if he felt anything invisible. After several minutes of this, mentally sifting through every spell he could think of to yield an answer or find a portal, Sirius stood where he was and sighed.

"There's nothing here," he said, more to himself than to Daryl.

"There's something here," Daryl replied. Sirius turned to look at him for the first time in the last few minutes. Daryl was crouched and pointing at the ground. He looked up at Sirius, squinting in the sunlight. "Footprints. And they ain't yours, mine, or your boy's."

Harry was uneasy when he woke, quickly remembering that Sirius wasn't at the prison with him. He wasn't exactly thrilled that Sirius had taken off the day after they had revealed themselves as wizards, leaving him to be the only magical person among a large group of distrustful Muggles. It wasn't even a matter of being worried for his safety; it was more so the awkward social interactions he wasn't looking forward to, and which staved him off of getting out of bed until he knew he really needed to.

He had fallen asleep quickly last night, drained from the supply run, the post-run explanation, the council meeting, and then his conversation with Carl. When he and Carl had walked off by themselves and Carl had pulled a gun on him, Harry hadn't been afraid. He had been irritated beyond belief, ready to lose his temper on him much like he'd been blowing up at Ron and Hermione all year. After such an exhausting day and answering the same questions over and over, his one friend in the place had deemed it necessary to hold him at gunpoint, and Harry had been absolutely fed up.

He had reminded himself, though, that Carl wasn't Ron or Hermione, who had known him for years. He was a Muggle boy who had known him for a few days, who had just learned that magic existed, who was used to living in constant fear of various threats and was now faced with a possible new one that had the power to wipe out his remaining family and friends. Carl, Harry realized, was probably fed up too, so he'd swallowed his own anger and frustration and heard him out.

He was glad he did. When Carl had first pointed the gun at him, Harry recalled him saying something about how he wasn't allowed to have his gun anymore, which had struck Harry as a bit of a red flag, but he hadn't worried over it until this confrontation. Harry had wondered for a moment if Carl was mentally unstable after everything that had happened to him, as he had obviously had to sneak or steal the gun from somewhere, and he couldn't help thinking of the news stories he'd heard at the Dursleys' about Muggle school shootings taking place in the United States. Harry had then felt immediately guilty as he reminded himself that much of the Wizarding World had been accusing him of being mentally unstable since last summer, and he opted not to jump to conclusions. Besides, Carl had, up until that point, at least, actually stricken him as rather reasonable and levelheaded.

The biggest thing that seemed to have bothered Carl, beyond simply being scared for his people, was that he had thought Harry had lied about his mother, and Harry could understand how that would be a grave betrayal to Carl. Fortunately, that wasn't something Harry would have to worry about with anyone else.

While knowing that helped, it did little to improve the prospect of having to face these people without Sirius. Nevertheless, Harry eventually sat up, groaned, and made his way downstairs to get some food.

Hershel was eating across from Beth and Zach. Hershel and Beth both smiled and said, "good morning," looking genuinely pleased to see him, while Zach smiled and nodded, watching him somewhat curiously but seeming generally indifferent.

Beth stood and said, "I'll fetch you a plate, Harry." She made to walk away, but then paused, smiling somewhat sheepishly at him. "That is, unless, you want to get it with, you know…magic." She said the last word quietly and appeared to be trying hard to contain her excitement. Hershel raised his brows at her somewhat reproachfully, as if she was being rude, and Zach looked back up at Harry, eyes wide with hopeful curiosity.

"Er…okay…" Harry said, pulling out his wand. He looked over to where Carol was cooking and setting out plates of eggs and potatoes and said, "Accio breakfast!"

The plate he was looking at zoomed over and set itself down on the table next to Hershel's. There was a silent pause as Harry sat down and the three of them stared at the plate in awe. Beth gasped audibly and Zach slammed his hands on the table, making all their plates shake, exclaiming, "That's awesome!" Hershel laughed and brought his hands together in delight.

Harry couldn't help grinning at how much they all enjoyed him performing such simple magic. He dug into his breakfast and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders.

After eating, Harry reported to the fences. The council had agreed that, at least for today, Harry's job should just be to stick with killing walkers, and then he could walk around and tend to basic housekeeping duties as he saw them. They would give him and Sirius more complex tasks after figuring out if the portal was still there or not and if Harry and Sirius would even be staying long-term.

Harry exchanged hellos with Tyreese and walked along the fence, where only a few people stood idly by. As he scanned the area outside, he could see that there were a couple of large clumps of walkers across the yard that were slowly ambling their way, but they weren't going to be close enough any time soon for anyone to kill from the fence. Bored, Harry stood there, leaning against the fence and tapping his fingers along the chain link. He looked back over at the other people standing there, chit chatting, and then back at the walkers.

When the walkers had only gotten a few feet closer in the span of ten minutes, Harry huffed, wiping sweat off his brow and casting a disdainful glance up at the sun. He decided he was done frying for no reason and pushed himself away from the fence, walking over toward the gate.

"Harry?" Tyreese called after him, exchanging looks of confusion with Karen. Harry ignored both of them and let himself out the gate. "Harry, get back here! What are you doing?"

Harry drew his wand and strode across the yard toward the walkers, pointing it at them and calling, "Incendio!" Flames shot from his wand and hit a few of the walkers at the front of the clump. One of the walkers fell over and two of them stumbled, but kept moving forward despite being on fire. More importantly, the rest of the walkers took notice of Harry and began moving toward him with speed and vigor. He began walking backward, ignoring the people calling for him from a distance behind him. He fired Reductor curses and other blasting hexes he could think of, aiming at the walkers' heads, noting which spells were and weren't successful and watching the walkers fall.

Once the remaining walkers began closing the distance on him, Harry turned and ran back to the gate. Tyreese, Karen, and the other people on fence duty began yelling at the walkers and clanging on the fence with their weapons, drawing some of the walkers their way. Harry shut the gate and headed back toward the others.

Tyreese grabbed his arm. "What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed!"

"I was making myself useful," Harry shrugged. "Now we all have something to do."

Tyreese exhaled through his nose and looked back along the fence to see everyone reaching through with their weapons and skewering the approaching walkers. He returned his gaze to Harry, looking stern but lost for words. He shook his head, pointed back to where Harry had originally been standing down the fence, and said, "Get back to work."

Harry nodded innocently and did as he was told. He didn't miss the way the corner of Tyreese's mouth twitched upward.

If someone had told Daryl two days ago that he would be playing detective in the woods while Sirius did mysterious wizard shit alongside him, he would have told them to go jump in a lake. Yet, here he was.

He had stood still there when Sirius first took out his wand and began muttering weird words, watching him closely to ensure the wand was never turned on him. He still didn't totally trust the guy, but he had to concede that the man had saved his life and helped keep his people safe. Since having his wand back in his possession, Sirius had had plenty of opportunities to cause harm, and he had ridden behind Daryl on the bike without pulling any stunts. So Daryl allowed himself to relax a little and stayed quiet while Sirius did…whatever he was doing.

Not wanting to be useless, Daryl figured he could at least take observation of the area from the perspective of a hunter and tracker. He stepped slowly around the clearing, scanning the trees, the limbs, the leaves, and the earth. He searched for anything that stood out as unusual or that indicated any recent activity. The ground caught his attention first.

He crouched down and immediately spotted footprints that weren't fresh enough to be from himself or Sirius. Examining the shapes of the prints and how formed they were in the earth, he could tell they were from the last few days. He waited for Sirius to come to some kind of pause in his process, as he didn't want to disrupt him and mess it up.

When Sirius finally concluded that there was nothing there, Daryl directed his attention to the footprints, telling Sirius they didn't belong to either of them or to Harry.

"How can you tell?" Sirius asked, crouching down across from Daryl, brow furrowed.

"Too recent to be from when y'all first arrived," Daryl explained, "and the way they've hardened in the ground shows they're not new like ours." He pointed back and forth between one of the older footprints and one of Sirius's, the latter of which was softer and clearer. "You can also see that the shapes and designs of the shoes are different." Daryl, staying hunched over, walked over to a particular set of footprints. "These…looks like a more narrow fit of a boot, something with a somewhat higher heel. Probably a woman's boot."

Daryl stood, moving closer to the trees and circling the edge of the clearing, stopping at a tree that had a deep hole in the trunk. He touched bark surrounding the hole with his fingers, and then moved his hand inside, feeling the surfaces. He frowned.

"This ain't an animal burrow or a natural hollow," he said. "Something with heat formed this. Only thing that makes sense is lightning, but…" Daryl examined the rest of the trunk as well as the base of the tree, looking at both the roots and ground. "It's an odd angle for it to be lightning. Not impossible, but there should be more scorch marks." He looked behind him at Sirius, who was watching and listening intently. "It's almost like a gun blast, but it's too big, even for something of higher artillery, and there ain't no shells."

Sirius joined Daryl by the tree and examined the hole himself, feeling it with his hands. To Daryl's surprise, the wizard smirked in an almost triumphant way. Daryl watched him step backward across the clearing and point his wand at one of the trees next to the one they had been observing.

"You may want to come over here if you don't fancy losing a limb," Sirius said. Daryl arched a brow at him, but did as suggested and moved away.

A blast much like a gunshot but more powerful exploded from the end of Sirius's wand and hit the previously unscathed tree, leaving a gaping, smoking hole in the trunk. Daryl and Sirius crossed the clearing simultaneously. Daryl looked from the newly decimated tree to the first one. They weren't exactly alike, but they were very close in size, shape, and depth.

A pit dropped in Daryl's stomach as he looked at Sirius. "Are you saying…?"

Sirius nodded. "Other wizards."

Daryl studied Sirius's body language. He looked a little paler and his shoulders were stiff. "Not good ones, I take it?"

"I don't know for certain, but…" Sirius glanced over at the trees that had been blasted. "When you first pointed out that tree, it reminded me of a dark witch who's…known for losing her temper. She's a part of the group that wants Harry dead."

"Why the hell do people wanna kill a teenage boy?"

"Long story," Sirius sighed. "I'll explain later, but for now, do you think you can track those footprints? If the witch I'm thinking of is here, then we have a real problem."

Daryl nodded. "I'll try."

He hunched over and looked for a set of the footprints that weren't from himself or Sirius, which was a more difficult task after the two of them had moved around the clearing. He honed in a pair that he believed to be from a woman's boots, as they were the easiest to discern from the others, and followed them out of the clearing, Sirius following him.

Daryl tried to focus on his task, eyes darting around for any other clues besides prints, but he could feel his heartrate picking up. He had just started feeling okay about Sirius and Harry being around, even if knowing they could do magic still made him slightly uneasy. Now Sirius was telling him there may be as many as three dark wizards in their world who were after someone staying at his home, with his people.

He stopped for a moment to take a deep breath in and out, telling himself the best course of action he could take right now was to follow this trail, and to focus on that and only that. He glanced over his shoulder at Sirius, whose eyes were alert and whose wand was held up as if he was ready to use it. His eyes met Daryl's and he offered a curt nod, which Daryl returned, finding himself unexpectedly reassured.

They continued onward.