Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Run boy run! This world is not made for you

Run boy run! They’re trying to catch you

ooo

Harry watched disinterestedly at the twitching body beneath the soles of his boot. Without mercy, he drove his silver-sword into the skull, piercing the brain until the hissing stopped. Hermione and Ron were behind him, checking their sides in case of stragglers. Harry nudged the body with his foot, checking if there was any life still kicking in them. 

Hermione tapped Harry’s shoulder, bringing him out of his musings. “Harry I think they’re dead.” She assured, preventing his struggling arms from doing something completely unnecessary. Hermione nodded with him as he sheathed his sword into the basilisk-hide scabbard strapped to his waist. 

“There were more than yesterday, aren’t there? Bloody hell, these things breed like rabbits.” Ron bent down on his knees, taking in the spilled guts with morbid fascination. “Harry took on a lot of’em. Whole hoard. Merlin Harry do you ever run out of that energy of yours?”

Harry ignored him in favor of the trunk he had kicked open. He opened the enchanted duffel bag, placing whatever was in there. Useless garments fit for bandages, jewelry for rune-crafting, eye-drops, and everything the trunk had in its compartment. Tempted to take the spare tire, which Hermione had giggled about since neither of them knew how to drive, he took it anyway without struggle. If they were desperate enough they would drive, but they never found a need for it. They preferred travelling on foot.

He continued kicking compartments open, looting the unopened luggage, and rummaging through the dashboards for anything that looked useful. Ron and Hermione were working in sync, checking their surroundings and double-tapping the dead walkers they came across. 

“I think some of these were looted,” Ron muttered. He ran his eyes around the whole gridlocked highway. There were some cars that were popped open, suitcases zipped open, indicating someone had looted the area; also the dead walkers were a giveaway, some of them had puncture wounds on their cranium, indicating something had manually pulled the trigger. “Think some people came here? That water truck looks dry.” He commented.

Yesterday, they had come upon the cube truck filled with gallons of water. They had no need of it since they could conjure water with their magic, yet Harry could see the possibility in keeping a few in case of emergencies. Currently, it was dry and some were knocked open, the caps on the ground under the truck. 

Harry nodded disappointedly. He noticed dry blood on the black car and the opened door of said car. Also, the minivan that had a bogey shot dead in the backseat, a puddle of blood pooling near the steps. There were some blood tracks that lead into the forest. Someone was either bleeding out or stepped in the puddle of blood after killing the walker in the van. There were footprints stamped onto the dirt, leading away from the highway. 

“Harry, I think you should take a look at this,” Hermione called out as quietly as she could to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

The wizard raised a brow at her, walking to where she was at, Ron walking along his flank. Hermione pointed at the words written on the window frame of a basic yellow car. written with what seemed to be white paint. SOPHIA STAY HERE WE WILL COME EVERY DAY.  Some food was left on the hood of the car; a small tub of peanut butter, some bottles of water, canned beans, canned peaches, and a bottle of OJ, things someone left ripe for the taking -- assuming whoever Sophia was would eat it, which Harry found doubtful. The Golden Trio had seen these signs everywhere around the various towns they scavenged through, hopeful messages written noticeably across walls, windows, even the giant billboards on top of the tall buildings. Harry didn’t think any of those that were missing turned up alive -- it was slim.

Harry sighed, looking at Hermione’s pleading face. 

And Merlin did that woman know to stick it where it hurts.

“It’s probably someone’s daughter, Harry,” Hermione shook her head at her boyfriend who wanted to say something. “I know, I know, its food and it's right there, Harry, Ronald. I just couldn’t live with myself if a starving child were to miraculously appear from that creek, desperately looking for food. I know you wouldn’t Harry, you know how it feels like.”

Harry sneered at no one in particular. He knew how it feels, to be starved and left behind. How desperate he was back then, clawing at the bits of soup his relatives left for him at the doggy door they had installed. How it feels to go nights without eating, but at this point in time shouldn’t everybody? Food would never be given out freely (such as the ones on the hood) ever again; they had to ration what they found, dividing things up sparingly. Everyone who had survived would experience nights without a bite to eat. But those brown eyes he was staring into spoke of stubbornness, she stood her ground adamantly. 

He knew he wasn’t going to win this. It was rigged at the start. He looked away and backed off from the car. The sign looked relatively new, someone recently painted the message before a hoard swept through the highway.

“We’ll take it if it's not gone tomorrow,” he says curtly. He doubted anyone could survive a night by themselves, but he’d give this to Hermione. Harry looked away when Hermione smiled at him brightly, approving his decision. 

“Thank you, Harry,” Hermione gave him a side hug before hobbling off to check an adjacent car stuffing things in her enchanted duffel bag. 

“You sure about this, Harry?” Ron, before he joined his girlfriend, asked quietly. 

Harry nodded. “We can’t be soulless,” even though he had his doubts, he could see why Hermione didn’t want them taking the food.

“Can’t be hungry either,” Ron muttered back without any heat. He knew how Harry worked, and he also knew how Hermione worked. That’s why they had great chemistry together. “I love her to bits but sometimes…”

“She just cares,” Harry shrugged. 

Harry shook his head when Ron continued to grumble. He nodded at Hermione, who waited nearby, out of hearing range of course. They had developed this formation purely for their own survival, so no one would be caught off guard; all eyes were on different directions, and no one was ever alone. They did almost everything together, scavenging, gathering, fishing, camping, all sorts of things that had prevented death from knocking on their doorsteps. 

“Go with her,” Harry nodded towards Hermione. “I’ll be right behind you guys after I check out the perimeter.”

There is always one exception, Harry Potter.

“You sure you’ll be okay alone?” Ron cocked his head to the right. “You said to always stay together.”

“I know,” Harry nodded. “I’ll be quick.”

“Alright,” Ron nodded. He trusted Harry in not getting himself killed, given he had experience with Harry’s stupidly dumb luck. “We’ll contact you via patronus if things get sketchy, mate. You do the same.”

Harry gave a final nod, placing the mask he had under his jaw over his nose as he walked into the creek.

~

Harry snapped his fingers, his green eyes glowing brightly. 

Around him he could hear everything .  The wind brushing his hair, water trickling down into a pond, a roaring river some distance from him, the trees rustling above him, the shrouded animals breathing rapidly -- scared to expose themselves; and most importantly, he could hear every walker lugging themselves around the leaves, the dirt, the mud, everything . He decided to take a few walkers’ heads with a quick sweep of his sword. They had advanced towards him from the depths of the creek, having heard his boots smashing against the mud. It seemed this creek was besieged by walkers, they must have migrated away from the highway -- or even the city since the interstate was some miles from Atlanta. 

Harry kicked at the walker’s head much like a football, watching it make direct impact against a boulder. Brain matter mixed with blood splattered on the side of the boulder, giving it a resounding and disgusting splat . He decided to stab the rest with his sword since it was quicker, and without needless gore. Lifting the blade effortlessly from the engorged eye socket, he wiped his blade on his pants and moved on, careful enough not to stray too far from the entrance.

Surveying the area seemed rather pointless, since the attacking walkers were quickly slain, and nothing out of the ordinary was in sight. Harry marked the side of the boulder with a red ‘x’ with the walker blood, cleaning his fingers with a quick scourgify . He left the mark as an indication that he had already scouted  the specific area. He was about to apparate himself out of the forest when he heard a small, almost silent whimper. 

‘ Help… ’ he heard. ‘ Help …’ he heard again. 

The voice sounded young, light, and child-like.

It reminded him of Teddy. 

He heard the echo drifting in the sea of trees further into the creek. Summoning his wand from its holster, Harry pointed it at the sky.

“ Expecto Patronum! ” He watched as the silver-mist turned into a gliding snow owl, landing on his shoulder, nudging his head affectionately. “I need you to deliver a message for me, quickly.” The snow owl nodded its small head understandingly, staring intently at Harry.

“To Ronald Bilius Weasley, message starts:...” 

~

“... Someone needs help. Sounds like a child. Stay nearby. Camp out in the cars for now. I’ll be there shortly.” The spectral owl repeated in Harry’s voice. 

“That fucking idiot,” Ron growled. “Going off on his own and doing shit he doesn’t need to--” he wanted to kick something. He wanted to kick the nearest car but he knew it’ll be futile and idiotic. He didn’t want to attract more walkers. He glanced at Hermione who grimaced when the owl flew back into the sky. “We’ll camp in those cars for now.” 

“You shouldn’t be angry Ronald. No matter how cold Harry had gotten, nothing would ever cure him of his hero complex,” she tried to lighten the mood between them. 

“Just wish he would be smart about this. He was the one who said we stick together for everything .” He hissed. “Yet there he goes, doing the exact opposite of what he told us to do!” 

“Harry never makes sense. You know how stubborn he gets when he sets his mind to it,” she said exasperatedly. She smiled fondly when she took out the picture she had hidden in her backpack. “See? Look at that stubborn face.”

Ron snorted when Hermione placed the picture in his open hand. “This was during our third year, yeah? After he was sent to the mediwing after saving Sirius.”

Hermione nodded. “It was taken soon after Madam Pomfrey demanded him to never get injured ever again.”

Shaking his head fondly, Ron gave the picture back to Hermione. He remembered that day slightly. All he could remember was Harry’s face after Madam Pomfrey scolded him, and Hermione swooped in and took the picture. It was from an old polaroid camera she had stashed. For such a stickler for rules, she could surely bend some of them when it benefits herself. 

“We’ll have to deal with this, huh?”

“We always have, love,” she said affectionately, rubbing his nose with her own. “If he doesn’t come out of the woods within the next few hours, we will track him down if it pleases you, Ronald.” She assured her boyfriend, placing her head against his strong shoulder. Thankfully, she didn’t need to assure herself, she knew Harry would be able to survive almost anything.

Even with that dumb luck of his. 

~

Harry followed the sloshing of mud up ahead. The tired  mewling ceased as he continued his search throughout the creek, but he could still hear the walkers growling the closer he got. The child was either dead or exhausted from her hopeless pleas. He prayed to whatever was up there in the heavens the child was just exhausted and she couldn’t make a sound while she ran ahead.

When he heard her yelp, Harry bolted. He didn’t know how he dodged the trees, slamming his shoulders into them sometimes, shaking as if he wasn’t deterred by the harsh pain pulsating against his shoulder. He needed to get there and he needed to get there fast. 

Harry felt his breath grow harsher, his lungs heavier the closer he got to the edge of a muddy pond, where he noticed a little girl struggling against a walker. “No!” She screamed, drawing attention from every walker around them. He cursed.

 A second walker was limping on the unsuspecting girl’s flank, inches away from her neck before a small hole had appeared  on its forehead, making it drop and sink into the mud lifelessly. Harry turned his attention to the other walker hastily, sending a cutting hex to sever the top of the walker’s cranium, killing it instantly. 

Before any walker could reach the girl, Harry had sent them flying into the trees, stunning them momentarily. Once he got to the girl, he grabbed her by the waist and noticed her body slacken in his arms. She had fainted from exhaustion, Harry scoffed. There were stragglers surrounding them, a lot fortunately trapping themselves in the mud. Cursing silently when one lunged at him, Harry apparated to the highway in a desperate attempt to escape.

Harry landed on the side of the highway, biting his tongue; it prevented him from screaming in agony. He felt something rupture and he could taste copper. The girl had collided against his splinched wound. He looked to the side and lifted his shirt, seeing a chunk of his oblique was missing. It left a gaping, bloody hole with circular lines decorating his side. As of now, the chunk of flesh was being eaten by the walkers in the creek. Breathing harshly, Harry peeled himself off the road with the fainted girl in his arms. He lifted her up, wincing at the sharp pain travelling down his spine, and despite all this he persisted to walk closer to the light of a small, dim lumos.

“Hermione,” he eventually groaned out. 

It caught the attention of his curly haired friend; she was probably on watch while Ron was getting some shut-eye. He watched her eyes widen at the state Harry was in. He tried breathing in calmly, but that sharp pain at his side turned it ragged, stunted. She gave her boyfriend a sharp kick and bolted. She arrived after a few seconds, her wand already casting the levitating charm to alleviate Harry from the weight. Ron joined them afterwards, kicking into gear once he arrived by laying him down on the road again. He placed his hand over the wound, putting some needed pressure. 

Harry’s breath grew harsher and harsher the more pressure Ron added, his vision shaking slightly. He seethed, of all the fucking times he could’ve splinched.

“Go Ron, watch the girl. I’ll take over,” Hermione said, putting her hands over Ron’s bloodied ones. Ron nodded, giving Harry a worried glance before walking away. “Stupid, so stupid,” she hissed, keeping the pressure on the wound. “Keep breathing Harry, alright?”

Harry mustered enough energy to nod his head minutely. 

Whispering an incantation against the pendant she wore around her neck, a trunk expanded next to her. She took her hands off the wound for a second, adding some weight on the wound to prevent Harry from bleeding out. She opened one of the many compartments in her trunk, grabbing a dark red potion, then a brown one. She rubbed her hands together after adding a few drops of the essence of dittany, applying it to the gruesome wound. 

Harry bit his arm tightly until he bled, as he felt the dittany burning against his side.

Hermione wiped her sweat when a green puff of smoke billowed upwards. “Drink the blood replenisher after a few minutes, alright? Then I expect you to lay down and rest .” She hissed harshly.

Harry nodded, not having the energy to protest. Once he regained his breath, he sat up with Hermione’s aid. “Was she bitten?” He hissed breathlessly.

“No, Harry. I checked.” Hermione aided him by lifting the potion slightly, making it much easier to consume the potion. 

Harry coughed at the potion’s disgusting taste. “Good.”

“I’ll help you to the van, Harry-”

Harry didn’t like being useless. He smacked her arm away softly. “I can do it myself, Hermione.” He whispered harsher than needed, limping towards the van leaving a saddened Hermione behind.

She watched Harry carefully, only straying away when she heard the van door open. Hermione shook her head, scoffing. Stubborn Gryffindors and their stupid pride, she cursed. 

~

“What do we do about her?” Ron's eyes were directed in the front, checking every possible angle, his back leaning against the blue minivan. While Hermione, who was a bit peeved with the Man-Who-Lived, sat in the front seat. 

“We can’t just leave her,” Hermione shook her head. “That’s just wrong.”

 “Do you think she’s Sophia? The one the people who left the sign on that car are looking for?” Ron asked, eyes narrowing as the sun’s beams were getting harsher. He opted for a sleeveless t-shirt because of the arid climate. “By the way, she’s still asleep. You think I should wake her up?”

“Give her an hour to rest,” Hermione hands were already on a wand. “Are you feeling alright?”

Harry nodded. “Give the girl the food her people had left her with,” Harry leaned back. “Do you have a pain reliever?”

Hermione nodded, having the vials at the ready in her pocket. “Take the one with the light-blue color first, then the green-one. I got to give Malfoy credit where credit is due.” She smiled as Harry followed her instructions. “These things are brilliant.”

Ron snorted. “Don’t say that I think Malfoy’s ego could hear you across the pond,” he chuckled at his own jibe. Harry shook his head. The two had ceased their childish rivalries ever since Harry had saved the Malfoy’s from life in Azkaban. It’s a long-shot saying they were friends, but they tolerated each other’s existence unless someone spoke out of turn -- which is usually Ron. 

Hermione smacked her boyfriend’s arm. “Merlin, Ronald.”

“Whot?” Her boyfriend asked incredulously.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Have you guys covered the area?”

Hermione nodded. “Most of the cars contained mostly luggage, usually filled with clothing and even gaudy jewelry. Perfect if we ever want to start warding areas with runes. They can also be used as talismans, as well.”

“What about walkers? Seen any?”

“Except a few,” Hermione said, “the night was quiet. We killed the ones that were wandering nearby, but it wasn’t at all dangerous.”

Harry nodded his head approvingly. He didn't want to abandon them for a little girl, but his instincts kicked in. What was the saying? Old habits die hard. 

“I think the girl’s waking up,” Ron whispered. “She must’ve been exhausted. Look at the poor girl’s shoes, they’re all ruined.” The child’s shoes were indeed trashed, since she had also run through mud and kept on running. The soles were peeling apart and the laces looked bitten off. 

“Hermione, I think it’s best you talk to her.” Harry looked to Hermione for her approval. Without protesting, his best friend nodded. 

“Of course, Harry,” Hermione exited the car.