Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs
It has been thirteen years since the Final Battle at Hogwarts. Thirteen years since I thought that all my troubles were over, that I could finally have a peaceful life. I could get married, have a family, and grow old. Ten years ago I learned that would never happen. My dreams and goals were never going to come true because I had stopped aging. Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were steadily growing and changing but I still looked the same age I was that day. It was eight years ago that I lost them all. Not to death, as one would expect, but rather to circumstance. Eight years ago I learned the horrible truth, I could not die. I had been attacked in Diagon Alley. That was fine, no big deal; it wasn't like it was the first time since the war. The only difference was that this time I didn't see one cutting curse coming my way and it got me in the neck. That should have been it, I should have died, but my neck just healed. Right there in the middle of Diagon Alley my neck healed from a fatal injury.
I left the Wizarding World the very same day. All it took was a trip to Gringotts to set it all up and get my papers. I had all my money put into muggle banks and got a list of properties worldwide. Harry Potter died that day and James Black was born. James was a rich orphan with no attachments, no purpose either.
I spent five years traveling through Europe. There was so much to see and explore. I would stop for a while in each country to learn about their culture and magic. After a couple of close calls I decided to change my appearance a bit. I grew out my hair, in honor of Sirius' memory, and put on some muscle learning mixed martial arts. While in France I got my eyes fixed with muggle laser surgery and got a tan on the beaches of Spain. Just a few little changes but I looked like a completely different person. I really enjoyed my time traveling through Europe but after five years I was ready for something new.
My next stop was in America. I have spent the last three years traveling across the Southern States. Every so often I stopped in different towns for a few weeks to rest, learn, and explore. The weird thing about America is that the magic won't allow you to sidelong apparation.
This time I stopped in a small town in Georgia. I have been here for almost a month of my expected two month stay. Everything was great, the locals have shown me what southern hospitality was all about but about a week ago things started to change. At first we just heard rumors about the dead walking among the living. We thought it was sick joke or a prank like the war of the worlds but two days ago we saw it for ourselves. For the first time they were showing video of the carnage on TV. There were corpses walking around eating the living.
Even as we rushed to prepare we prayed for the plague of walking dead to miss us. We decided that the local high school would be where we evacuated to if they came through here. All the windows were covered in chain link fence and the doors were prepped to be barricaded. As our second line of defense all classroom doors were to be locked and we made blockades in the hallways with paths in middle until they need to close. The cafeteria and the gym were to be where we held up should the dead walk here. We set up the auditorium as a safe place for the children to hang out and play. The Library was to be for the adults, something to get their minds off the danger. We thought it was perfect.
Now I am sitting in the cafeteria trying to understand how all our plans went wrong so quick. Even with all of our preparations we lost most of the town. We had been going along business as usual to keep a since of normalcy and stop people from panicking. The sheriff noticed the first one and sounded the alarm to evacuate. Even with a warning and all our preparation we were not ready for the utter carnage the walking dead caused. After the alarm sounded they were coming from every direction and were on us in minutes. What in theory should have been a quick and bloodless evacuation turned out to be a battle for survival. Many were killed long before they got close to the high school.
I was lucky that I always carry muggle guns and blades in my bottomless mokeskin pouch because I learned quickly that magic didn't work against them. Fire spells would slow them down and reduce them to ash but instead of scaring them off it attracted more. Regular spells they didn't even seem to notice. Shooting them in or hacking into the brain seemed to be the only way to kill them. Not even cutting off their heads would fully kill them. Cutting of limbs only slowed them down.
We held the doors to the school open as long as we possibly could but we soon had no choice but to close them. By the time we locked up the school there were only about three hundred of us and more than half were injured. Some of the students had gone straight to the cafeteria but most had tried to help their families and friends. Most were lost, many were injured, and very few came back unscathed. We hadn't factored in the damage that panicking crowds would make. They caused as much damage and death as the walking dead.
We have moved all of our injured into the gym and the auditorium. A few of the people in the cafeteria with us have fevers and look really ill. We can only hope that they get better soon as our few doctors are needed to tend to our wounded. I have no idea what we are going to do with our dead since some of those wounded are sure to die of their injuries.
Author's Note: This is a story that my friend wanted and I have been writing it since the end of season 2. I am currently up to chapter 33 and still writing. She wanted it posted so here it is. Hopefully you like it but you may not. I never wanted this read by others but she won't quit bugging me so here you go.
If you read my other story the next chapter will be up soon. I finally found my story and can't wait to get back to posting.