"Do you think they will be okay?" Sophia asks while placing down an ink card, watching for Carl's next move.
"Of course they will! With both Dad and Harry nothing's gonna happen to them." He says with no doubt in his voice.
Sophia can admit she is jealous of Carl for the loving father he has, and his pretty uncle, who is so nice.
"How can you be so sure?" She wonders, lifting a wild card to change the color after her skip.
"Well, Dad a sheriff, he's tough and if that bullet couldn't beat him then nothing can"
"Plus, Uncle Harry, well Harry is just awesome!" Carl pauses in his hero worship to scowl as she lays down a plus for a wild card, picking up said number of cards he hides his glee at the draw twos.
"But what about the monsters?" She is scared to think of one coming here, she doesn't want to be eaten. Carl places a red one down before answering," They should be scared of Harry," is all he says.
"His faith in them two is undoubtedly cute," Carol says offhand as she passes the empty can to Lori, her voice quiet to not alert the children. The love in Lori's eyes is obvious as she looks at their kids conversing, "He loves his dad, and wants to be just like him."
Rick's return has shattered the flimsy stability she painstakingly tried to hold together. She silently thanked Harry for all he had done for Carl knowing she hadn't been acting the best. Her oh-so-loving brother is truly a saint for not calling her out on her bullshit with Shane, even if he disapproves.
And that is mostly because they leave her sweet Carl unattended, but she only does that because she knows Harry will watch
Her eyes go wistful as she recalls the two relationship
"He and Harry have a strange relationship, sometimes I feel like Carl is more his son than mine," Lori says and she doesn't know if the bitterness is targeted towards him or herself, but she shoves it away.
"That's sweet," Carol says, absently wiping a plate.
"You two are very lucky…"Carol trails off thinking about how nice it must be to have a husband who's not afraid of the unconditional support of a brother.
"I do hope they make it back safely." Carol finishes
"My boys will keep them safe." She loves her husband. Despite their marital problems, if she knew he was still out there she would have never spent her woes with Shane. She hates herself, for letting lust cloud her and using the high as a distraction. Using her husband's best friend as an outlet to escape the world for those few minutes.
Neither noticed the shadow of Shane listening in, nor the brewing rage that slowly is starting to build.
Harry wipes his brow, dearly missing air conditioning as the heat of Georgia rains down on him. Even with his cooling charms, it's still a lot for his British soul. He knows if he didn't have his magic the heat and sheer smell of death would have gotten to him by now.
He would have cast a full cooling charm but thought it would be too suspicious to be one of the only ones to not be sweating.
Looking at Merle, who is barely walking beside him, Harry can see the man is exhausted, only walking out of sheer will. His eyes latch onto a rack of outdoor chairs as they pass a strip mall.
Glancing back at the panting man Harry nods to himself and makes his way towards the shop, speaking as he leads Merle towards the chairs, "Why don't you sit and rest,"
Before the man can protest he insists, "You're already about to fall dead, just let yourself recuperate while I gather some supplies I can find, I'm sure there were things missed amongst the panic."
Cue a scoff, "Merle ain't useless,"
Merle still shuffles along but he doesn't like bein' escorted like a baby.
As if the smaller man can read his internal turmoil, he hears the pretty boy's attempt to soothe his ego, "I know, but you're in no condition to do anything right now." Harry says sternly but gently, continuing before the man can start.
"I do need some ideas of what I should be looking for?" Merle knows this is mainly a way to placate him, but knowing is thankful to feel included and valued.
Not that he's ever gonna say it out fucking loud.
Harry continues holding out a wrinkled piece of paper, "I have my list, but any suggestions would be helpful."
Merle squints at the tiny man shadowing the sun as he stands before him.
Merle ain't used to this, this, being treated like a person, and not a burden.
Harry won't be shy to admit that Merle is a handful, but his grievous actions haven't ever been malicious, just ornery.
"Tch, look for shit that's good for containing, like bottles, canisters, and all that good shit."
Hell, even coolers, you could dig a hole and store the meat the ground would keep the food fresher longer," Merle muses growing more confident at Harry's encouraging nod.
Merle feels a sense of pride he hasn't felt in a long while, unconsciously straightening his spine as he rattles more ideas out, "you might be able to find some fire-starting kits and other hunting items,"
"M'sure Daryl wouldn't mind some more arrows," he trails off feeling overwhelmed under such a gentle gaze
feeling defensive he snaps, "What!?"
The smaller man simply shakes his head, "Nothing" Harry says, but Merle can tell it ain't nothing by the mirth in them' green eyes.
"Get' on! ya' lil' fucker" he growls out embarrassed, shooing the man towards the shop, pausing when a laughing Harry places a pistol on his lap.
"I'd prefer you to yell for me if something happens, but," Harry tells the man, knowing Merle would never yell for help.
Reaching into his hip holster he offers the pistol to Merle, "If you have to use it, it's silenced." He says seeing the incredulous look, he just shrugs. Merle doesn't have to know it's charmed into a silencer.
He wishes he could mute it fully, but he finds his small enchantment to be pushing it, still unwilling to use his magic out in the open.
Survival should come before his childish fears, but…
Walking into the smaller shop Harry drags a random shopping cart along, softening his footsteps as he walks down the main lane used for switching between aisles.
He idly contemplates how much he could get away with using his magic before it becomes too suspicious.
He doesn't necessarily want to hide his abilities, more so not to be seen as a scapegoat.
He's lived that life already.
His thoughts jolt to a stop as he spots a cute dolly, his mind traveling to the sweet timid Sophia.
Nodding to himself he turns the trolley down the aisle.
He keeps his senses alert as he makes his way toward the doll as he hears growling coming from the back. Despite the danger, Harry feels a fond grin stretch across his face as he picks up the silly doll.
He hasn't known the Peletier woman long but he adores them both.
Carol is the mother he wished he had back before he never knew what one was, and Sophia is just too sweet for this world.
He is honestly just waiting for an opportunity to have an excuse to bypass Carol's wishes.
Maybe his friends from his old life would be appalled by the way he thinks now, but Harry isn't the golden boy he had been in Hogwarts.
In this new world, he has to be able to let go of his morals and not be above getting dirty to protect his people.
'Maybe the hat was right?' Harry thinks absently staring at the doll in his hands, he feels more Slytherin-like every second he spends in this new way of life.
He knows he'd never leave someone to simply just die, but he also is self-aware enough now to know he's not sacrificing his own life for some stranger anymore.
Thinking back then, he knows the only reason he didn't curse the bitch Bellatrix into a convulsive mess is that he was too engulfed with grief to truly feel any hate, too blinded by his anguish.
Harry jerks back to reality as a walker slams into the shelf next to him.
He catches the dead gray eyes of the sunken face of a deceased woman who shuffles towards him as he meets her eyes, flashes of her life story flicker before his own in an instant.
The dead woman was a mother of two teens, who bravely went scavenging after her husband had fallen ill with a cold from too much exposure to the elements. The poor woman was just exiting with a cart full of goods she had found when she got attacked by a straggler.
Those prearranged goods are something Harry will be looking forward to, with no ounce of guilt.
Though he does feel bad for her death.
It's with a tired sigh he pulls his dagger from its holster before swiftly stabbing the dead, now dead-dead woman.
He hates it when they meet his eyes.
Harry doesn't want to care for the corpse he just laid to rest. He doesn't want to see how she would laugh fondly as her husband would blow raspberries onto their unborn firstborn. He doesn't care that the last thing she said to her daughter was "Keep daddy safe, for momma."
He ignores the pang of regret for what could have been if he met her ten minutes earlier in favor of searching the rest of the aisle for toys or anything that a child would like.
He forces the memories away using the children at the Quarry to serve as a great distraction. A couple of dinosaurs catch his eye, and after a moment he decides on the T-Rex for Carl.
Picking up the cheap plastic toy he frowns at the boringness of it, deciding to give his nephew a special treat Harry mentally calls his magic. The eagerness at sensing its master makes his magic metaphysically jump at the chance to please Harry.
His intent wraps around the toy like a glove and immediately the green dino starts to glow. His magic molds and reshapes the plastic toy into a familiar dragon, one similar to Norberta. After he's finished and feeling satisfied with the final product he sticks the toy into his pocket, no bugle showing that said pocket is charmed to be bottomless and weightless.
Silently or as silent as the wheels of the cart will allow Harry to trek down the remainder of the toy aisle not knowing what to get the other children. He doesn't know Morales's children too well, but he feels that anything would be appreciated.
And it's with that thought he just picks a couple of random toys, a couple of extras for the other kids in the camp.
Harry pushes on hoping he can find that cart the woman had gathered.
She hadn't been dead too long, but fortunately, she had been smart with the food she found and equipment she gathered, not everything mind you, but a lot for a simple housewife.
Harry keeps one hand on the cart, with the other keeping his dagger drawn.
While Harry has a theory that he wouldn't turn should he get scratched it doesn't make him want to test his luck.
Harry found out after some careful experiments he had done during the early days of the apocalypse that he had a strange effect on the dead.
The first thing he learned is that the dead will go after him if he is the only target, but in the presence of others they seem to try to get lost in who he is, and who is a 'regular human.'
Harry stabs his blade into the creature's skull and passes the aisle, not bothering to clean his blade just yet, knowing there are a couple more dead bumbling about he continues.
Outside with Merle who is currently sipping on the water Harry graciously gave him. Not knowing that Harry had mixed the bottle with a light pain relieving potion, not enough to numb the pain completely, but enough to function more coherently.
Merle has always been impatient and when Merle gets impatient he gets anxious, which leads to a whole lotta problems.
It seems fate has answered his boredom as his keen senses catch the fast-paced footfalls making him pause mid-sip.
Setting the drink on the ground he squints through the heat haze to see figures making their way towards him.
Their steps tell him they ain't walkers and it's experience that has him and his aim pointing towards them a silent threat as they get closer. He relaxes mutely when he registers the bobbing sheriff hat.
Though, what truly sells it is the very familiar crossbow strung on the back of one of what can only be his little shit of a brother.
He feels a smug grin spread across his face as they stall in shock a few meters away. He keeps the gun aimed at officer-friendly, not letting the opportunity to antagonize the man.
After a second he lowers it away from the man's head.
"Well hello officer, seemed to have lost yur' cuffs," Merle says with cheek, he doesn't yell, not stupid enough to draw attention from the walkers, well now that he's sober.
"Merle!" He ignores the warmth in his chest at the relief in Darlina's voice in favor of waving the new stump he has been graced with.
"Got ta' new look ya like," he growls, his anger prevalent, but honestly he is too exhausted to truly put up a fuss.
"Ah, see I'm sorry about that." Rick starts to say most likely about to start on a tirade of why he was justified in what he did, but is interrupted by a nervous Glenn.
"Guys, I think we have company," the former pizza delivery driver says, pointing towards a group of walkers creeping towards them.
"Shit! We should go," T-dog states, his anxiety prevalent as he shifts on his feet, probably trying to keep out of ol' Merle's sight.
Merle gives the black man a look, "we ain't leavin' Harry is in there," he says, jabbing his thumb behind him. His ass sitting on the chair as cool as a cucumber despite the dead creeping upon them.
"Harry? I thought he was guarding-"
"Holy shit, guys!" Glenn interrupts nervously, aiming at the oncoming geeks getting too close for his liking.
Daryl also points his weapon; the near silent slink of the arrow piercing through the air meets Merle's ears as dead drops from the expert shot.
"God damnit", he bemoans, his headache growing as the stupid cop along with the other three start firing unnecessary rounds into the remaining ones.
Merle only follows along because they've already made noise, only to stop and examine the gun in his hand, "The little shit wasn't lying." He says.
"What?" His brother's ever-keen ears catch his words.
"Nothing," Merle mutters, but his voice is drowned out by the incredulous shout of Harry, causing them all to turn towards the man, who was making his way toward them pushing a cart full of various items.
"What the hell are you idiots thinking!?" Harry couldn't help but express his emotions as he had heard the multitude of rounds going off.
Harry knows there wasn't enough dead around to warrant the need for a gun, and it couldn't have possibly been Merle, as his gun would have been so loud.
"Wha-" Glenn squeaks out towards Harry, flushing as the thought of Harry screaming like an angry housewife pops into his head.
"Harry, we were just killing the dead," Rick stated in his placating tone, as he misread the reason Harry was mad.
The two hunters watch in silence as the small man berates everyone like a child.
"I can see that," Harry says, sarcasm bleeding out.
"It's not that Rick, I mean," Harry says deciding it's not worth it, and ending with a huff shaking his head looking towards the dead bodies.
Mentally tsking at their foolishness, but realizes that being silent isn't something everyone is grown up having to be.
It's something they're going to have to learn if they want to survive though. Guns are only circumstantial, a blade is more reliable especially if your efficiency with the weapon is good enough.
"Come one we don't have all day," Harry says, pushing the cart to Glenn giving him a grateful nod as the man takes it from him. He intends to help Merle knowing he is still unsteady, but he gets shrugged off.
However, that doesn't put him out too much knowing that he's just a typical alpha male who can't be seen as weak.
"What gets me is that you idiots would waste bullets on a couple of zombies," Harry starts not able to help himself, "when it would have been simpler to just stab them."
"I mean at least Daryl's ammo isn't a dinner bell!" Harry says he was pissed at being startled so abruptly having been engrossed in his task,
"Now, Harry-"
"No, not now Harry," Harry says, mocking Rick.
"Fucking damnit Rick." He spins walking backward towards the direction of the van.
"I know you're new to all this, but I thought you'd be smart enough to realize that sound attracts the fucking dead," Harry knows he's overreacting, but dammit he just can't help it. Feeling his point is made he spins back around continuing, his pace full of agitation.
The satisfaction of getting the guns and getting Glenn back from the Vatos fades as they make their way back. Harry has a way of making you feel like a scolded child.
Rick would know from experience.
Reaching the van first Harry opens the back before addressing them "Look, I'm sorry for getting so bent, I understand this is scary." not even realizing he's making them feel like babies.
"but we are going to have to learn to get close to them, a gun isn't going to be reliable in every situation," Harry says softly his earlier anger is gone.
Sophia grins holding the dolly Harry gifted her, she flinches slightly when she hears her father hiccup.
The beating Mister Shane did to her father makes her feel conflicted as she feels guilty for being happy that he got a taste of his own medicine.
When the van had come back she felt her ever-present fear fade at the sight of Harry.
The pretty man has always made her feel safe, silently she wished he could have been her daddy. He acts like one of the ones she used to be jealous of, the kind of father who would lift his daughter into the air and hold her like she's the most precious bundle to ever exist.
Sophia can see it in the way Harry acts around Carl, always making sure the boy is in his sight and kept as happy as he can.
It's the small things you see, and she doesn't understand how she can miss something she never got.
She smiles as she realizes that maybe she'll have those things with Harry. She pressed her face, flushing in glee as she hugged her new dolly to her chest.
Would he want a daughter like her? Her father's mean words reverberate in her head, burrowing her head into the doll she breathes in Harry's scent clinging to the toy.
The scream of Amy causes a ripple of dread to spread throughout her body.
She falls into a fetal position, the scream triggering her into an episode. It reminds her of her mother during one of her parents' bad fights.
She presses her hands into her ears trying to ignore everything feeling useless as the screams spread.
The last thing she registers is being picked up and the familiar voice of Harry telling her she is safe.
Knowing it's Harry she believes him.