Hi everyone, I'm back with a new story with my muse finally intack. Sorry I haven't been writing lately, I've been focusing on getting better because I was being attacked by a spirit left and right, which included depression and unsavoury thoughts. It also made me loose interest in the things I loved doing which included writing. But ever since I started praying, listening to gospel music as well as listening to the audio bible on Youtube, I'm getting much better. And my muse has led me to a crossover between the Harry Potter and The Walking Dead. In this story, Harry is born a female named Autumn Rosalynn Potter. She looks like her mother with emerald eyes. I only have three chapters written down so far, decided to kinda get into the story before I started posting them, you know for fun. You guy's let me know what you think of it and if I should keep going. I do not have a pairing planned for this, so if you all like it, maybe leave a review and give out a pairing idea of who should I pair Autumn with. Yes, she will have magic, just without a wand since it was the end of the world technically, and she won't be showing her magic until much later when she knows she won't be betrayed.

Summary: She had been on foot since the Zombie Apocalypse first came to the world. Her friends had all been bitten and destroyed since, so, she moved on. Never stopping and helping anyone. That is, until she got to Georgia and saw a man in a hospital gown get knocked down by a kid with a baseball bat.

Chapter One

It had been months, close to a year since the virus had spread worldwide. Autumn lost all of her friends when their camp was overrun by a large herd. Currently, she is camping in the woods near a town called Georgia in the United States, trying to rest after walking on foot for days. At the moment, she was roasting some squirrel over the fire and sighed. To be honest with herself, she was glad that this deadly virus had taken over the world, carrying away all the negativity with it. At least with the walking dead, you know how to kill them, and they come in herds with only one function: to eat everything they can grab onto.

Taking a bite of the squirrel, she figured she would make her way to the town, see if she could find some supplies, and possibly some clean clothes if she was able to. Walking for so long, and for so many days, can make everything feel rather dirty, in her opinion. Upon finishing her meal, she proceeded to throw dirt into the fire, which resulted in billowing finishing her meal, she proceeded to throw dirt into the fire, which resulted in billowing flames. Autumn sighed a few hours later, having reached the town of Georgia, surrounded by simpler suburban homes that had once been filled with families. Now the streets were littered with rubbish, and dead bodies were covered in sheets.

Seeing the surrounding sights, she sighed with disappointment at the signs of no living people. As she strolled through the peaceful neighborhood, she carefully muffled her footfalls, upon scanning the surroundings. Suddenly, she was startled as she locked eyes with a tall, lean man with dark hair, clad in a hospital gown. His figure was a stark contrast against the serene backdrop. She observed him as he settled on the porch steps, pausing to catch his breath. As she deliberated on the prospect of approaching the man, she was taken aback when she observed a dark-skinned pre-teen stealthily approaching the man and subsequently striking him on the head with a baseball bat, rendering him unconscious.

WITH RICK

He was immediately greeted by a sharp, searing pain in his head as he slowly regained consciousness. Struggling to raise his arm, he realized with mounting dread that his wrists were secured by chains to the bed frame. Panic surged through him as he finally pieced together the reason for his unconsciousness and desperately attempted to free himself from the confining restraints. His struggles ceased as the sound of the approaching footsteps grew louder, announcing the tall, dark-skinned man's imminent arrival at the room where he was confined.

The door creaked open, unveiling the intimidating figure who stood before him, straight-backed and stern, carrying a tray laden with what appeared to be provisions. His broad, muscular shoulders and near-bald head added to his menacing presence, intensifying the dark glare he fixed upon Rick. "What is the nature of the injury?" he asked abruptly. Rick gazed at him with confusion. "Excuse me?" he stammered. The man sneered and withdrew a firearm from his back pocket, aiming it at Rick, causing him to tense with fear. "It's a gunshot wound. I was shot while pursuing these criminals with my team of law enforcement officers. My name is Rick Grimes, the sheriff in this vicinity. I believe I have just regained consciousness from a coma." Upon sharing his account, he stuttered.

The gentleman regarded him with incredulity. "What?" inquired Rick. The gentleman simply shook his head, secured the safety of his firearm, and then placed it down. "You must possess an extraordinary stroke of luck, my friend. You missed a substantial amount during your coma. It's truly remarkable that you managed to survive unaided in that state." Rick looked at him, deeply confused. "What do you mean, what happened while I was out?" he asked. The man sat down in a chair across from the bed and looked at him, his emotions uncertain to Rick. "It's the zombie apocalypse. The whole world went to hell because of a virus that went airborne. Welcome to the end of humanity, Rick Grimes. My name is Morgan, and my kid, Duane, is the one who knocked you out as a precaution in case you were a walker." Rick gaped at him in disbelief before the darkness enveloped him, overwhelmed by the shock of the revelation.

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