When he woke up next morning it was dawn. He guessed he'd slept early last night, and so rose early as well. He was used to early mornings because often they didn't have much progress on the horcrux hunt so they slept early and couldn't sleep well in their tent either, so often woke among the uncomfortable chill and sloppy dew-drop ladden dawns. Where was Ron and Hermione?
"RON, HERMIONE-" He shouted into the void.
His voice echoed, but there was no response. He didn't have the feeling they were there.
His stomach rumbled. He was hungry and it was the type of hunger that suggested he'd skipped dinner, but nothing else. He had lunch the other day so it seemed like there had been no time passing since the final battle and him waking up in the forest, like a continuation of each other.
After water, shelter, a food would be nice...
He glanced at his makeshift burrow which had fallen apart slightly now that he had gotten out of it.
It could last, but it could be sturdier.
He went to the bathroom in the woods, thankful it was just a one.
Then he wondered back to the river, which was about ten yards from his burrow. There was a slight sheen of dew on everything. He ought to have set up some sort of device to capture it the night before...oh well, there was tomorrow night.
He peered at the water of the river. The river wasn't very deep at this point, about a yard or so wide, maybe half a yard in depth. Majority of the parts had stones of different sizes scattered throughout, the biggest one the size of a clock, the smallest the size of a pebble. The stones were mostly black, grey or brown. It looked like there were a few different rocks in this area, which made Harry think the forest had to end at some point and there were different sections. The water was clear but Harry had overheard enough reports on the evening news about flesh-eating bacteria from lakes and rivers that he didn't fully trust river water.
Water purification methods came to mind. He had no water purification tablets, but suppose he could make some sort of container, and boil some water...?
He scratched at the dirt on the ground. There were some patches that were slightly wet and looked like mud closer to the river bank. Harry made balls of mud with the most consistency.
He then gathered sticks to make a fire and finally built a fire, similar to the ones he, Ron and Hermione sometimes built whilst they were out camping. They had built one outside their tent but within their magically protected zone for warmth because they couldn't have a fire that big inside the tent. It was exactly the same as process except when he tried his wand he didn't have magic to light anything.
He got to rubbing sticks and was glad he had attempted it at several points, partly out of boredom, partly to warm his hands, and partly to stop listening to Ron and Hermione arguing, to know how to do it.
After a bit there was an ember and with a bit of nurturing Harry finally got a small fire going. He gathered more wood to keep it alive. He began to feel braver. If anything came to find him now he could use fire...
He made the mud into a bowl with tall edges that curved inward slightly, then held it above the fire to harden it. It still felt fragile but it would do.
He then went to the river and scooped up some water with it, bringing it back and putting it on top of the fire.
He waited for what felt like an eternity before the water started to boil, collecting more firewood and mud at that point. Once it boiled he let it cool for a few minutes and then raised it to his lips.
It tasted close enough to water he could stomach it, but a little grimier than normal water. He drank a few large mouthfuls but not too much that if the water wasn't safe to drink he would seriously be in danger and then decided to wait for any reaction.
He made 2 more pots, but didn't dare to make more because he couldn't see how he could carry anything.
He found some vines and made several bundles of firewood. Luckily they were simple to carry.
He glanced around. There was birdsong in the trees, and a hopeful feeling as the sun had fully rose and day had begun.
He would have to figure out how to hunt, get some meat and figure out what plants to eat...
Already he had spied some mulberries and strawberries. They were small and sour but it was food.
It had been a few hours and he felt well, so he boiled up some more water and took as long of a drink as he could.
He felt the need to do a two and found it was possible to do one in the woods, although he wished for plumbing.
He then walked around some more and spied a few bird nests in the trees, which he threw stones at and knocked a few eggs out, that he tried to catch in his hands. He had taken of his hoodie (he wore a t-shirt underneath) and managed to catch a few in the bigger softer pile of fabric he had. When he cracked them open however, the birds were nearly fully formed. They appeared to be sparrows. Small and brown.
He wrung their necks, plucked their feathers, and roasted it over the fire, before peeling of the meat with his teeth. He did this to a few nests and had enough of a breakfast he didn't feel hunger pangs, although he felt like he could eat more.
He guessed it was spring. Soon there would be summer, autumn, but a long winter...
It was the best weather to be stranded.
He decided that he needed to build up some stocks, maybe build a hut of some sort if he didn't want to sleep in the burrow all the time. A hut would have some advantages a burrow didn't...
Then he needed to take a proper look around, as far as he could go, to see where he was.
He spent the rest of the day gathering large fallen twigs to build a sort of fence around where he wanted the hut to be - about fifteen yards from the river. He dug up shrubs and bushes and moved to around the fence, working on each patch so that it looked like a particularly thick part of the woods to an animal or thing passing by. He fortified some of the fence with larger and flatter stones he could find from the river, mostly near the base. Where he dug into the ground a little to set it up. The fence was about chest-height, but he felt safer with it there. If any animal came through it he'd hear it hopefully...
He heard a few sqwuacks in the distance and arrived at the trees to see the adult birds flying around their nest frantically. He picked up a large rock, took aim and managed to knock one out of the tree for a bit. It half fell, half flew towards the ground. Harry quickly caught it and wrung it's neck before plucking as much of it's feathers as possible and roasting it near the fire. A second bird came a moment later and he did the same. So the two parents were gone.
He repeated it throughout the day as the adult birds returned and had a better lunch. He would need to travel quite far to find more nests however. And more berries for himself. He may even need to build several huts and rotate around them...
By late afternoon he had the fence finished and a large pile of sticks he gathered. The fireplace was outside of the fence and where he wanted the house to be. He had fixed up the burrow so that he could sleep there if the house came down.
He then walked around the forest and gathered as many eggs, birds, and vegetables as he could from around. He made several trips and placed the stock inside his fence, near a corner but not resting on it for he didn't want to put too much pressure on the structure. Luckily the forest appeared too thick for wind. The forest was the same in all directions. He also spied a few squirrels and rodent like animals around so he felt happier in terms of finding meat. He had to do something about his plant stock however...
He had most of the berries he'd gathered for dinner with a few more birds, and some boiled water. He had gathered up a large pile of fallen pine leaves which he stuck in there for flavour. It made it better if he had the time to make some pine tea.
Then...nightfall came again. This time however, Harry kept the fire on and tried to make some bricks with the mud from the river. He walked up and down it as he had exhausted quite a lot of mud. A brick house was sturdier than a house of sticks.
He needed a torch of some sort...that would allow him to wonder far from the campfire. A spear would be nice too...
He could attempt making one from a large stick, some vines, and finding a sharp stone from the riverbed.
So far it was looking so good. He felt a faint flicker of a smile upon his face but something told him to savour it while it lasted. It was going good right now but maybe not forever...
Author's Note: He's a bit more successful at survival skills than what would be strictly realistic so the story can include slightly more interesting things...