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Assistant: Title: A broken Home, A New Family
        Author: Maplestrazsa Maplestrazsa 
        Chapter: 3/6 
        Summary: Harry Potter is 28 when the world ends. The dead rise and everything he knew is gone. Trained as a healer Harry's only hope is that maybe, just maybe, the CDC has found a way to stop the dead from rising. (This is a rewrite of Dead Men Walking, Now with a new title!)
        Contents: Chapter 3: Entering the CDC ends up not quite as expected.
    

    

        
          
          
            Harry enters the CDC with the Atlanta Group, only to receive some bad news.
          
        

      
        
          So! This new chapter is a couple days late but that's mostly on me. Remembrance Day is sort of a big deal where I work so it sucked up a lot of my time this week. However, I had today off to finally finish the revamp of Chapter 3. And Ho Boy! Things go down. This is probably one of the chapters out of a couple that I really, really wanted to change things. Not a lot mind you but enough. Apparently enough to add 1500 word to the chapter o.oAgain, i still have no Beta, so any mistakes are my own. I really try to catch things but I always seem to miss at least one misspelling or word out of place. Oh well. Enjoy the chapter and please let me know if you like the changes!
      
  

  
  
    
    The man in a police officer uniform entered the building first, leading with a shotgun. The rest of the group followed quickly, crossbow guy and handcuff man protecting the back with Harry. An older man with a fisherman's hat directed the group away from the open glass panels. Another man with a shotgun, an African American man, and a girl with blonde hair took point into the building with guns. The police officer called out into the building, looking for whoever opened the door, while everyone scurried away from the bright lights. Harry helped cover the open door to make sure no Dead could get in, using his machete to stab a few in the temple that wandered too close.The sound of a gun cocking quieted the group, bringing focus to a scruffy looking man in pajamas. The fact he was wearing pajamas was more mind-boggling then the gun. It'd been a long time since Harry had the luxury of changing clothes on a daily basis, let alone get comfortable enough to leave himself vulnerable without his dragon hide vest hidden under his sweater. “Is anyone here infected?” The question starts a nervous murmur through the group, no one a stranger to the danger of a hidden wound. The police man pleads their case to be let in, agreeing on blood tests as admission, while everyone else looks on anxiously and hopefully. The pajama man looks reluctant to agree to allow them in, until Harry steps out of the shadow of the door. “Please, let us in. It will be a death sentence to cast us back out into the night.” Harry could have made his own case with his medical background but he wasn’t willing to leave these people to survive in the dark.  The man seemed to think it over before sighing. “Fine, but only if you all pass the blood testing. Gather whatever you need because once that door is closed, it will stay closed.” Crossbow Guy, African Man, and an Oriental boy run back to the convoy for the groups supplies, emptying out the caravan, and rushing back inside. The inside glass doors were closed against any dead, the pajama man stepped up to a pin pad and scanned a card against it.“Vi, lock down the main doors.” People seem to calm as the doors close, keeping them away from the Dead outside. Harry relaxed as the dead were locked out, breathing a sigh of relief. It had been a long journey, but he was finally inside his destination. The Atlanta group seemed to edge away from Harry, the stranger in their midsts, but camaraderie was taking effect. The police man, Rick Grimes, introduced himself to the pajama man, Dr. Edwin Jenner. The group started to collect and pass out their belongings, bags of clothes and personal items, as the crossbow guy and handcuff man turning to Harry. It was obvious they were a bit suspicious of the stranger.“So who are you, huh? Some high-class Brit stuck on American soil?” Handcuff guy talked with his hands, waving the gun he had in one around casually. It was an obvious dig at his accent. A couple people of the group, including the police officer and doctor, took interest in the conversation. Harry straightened a bit, casually putting his own weapon away, trying to appear non-threatening. “My name is Harry. Just Harry... I've come from the ECDC, in Scotland.” Dr. Jenner seemed to take note of this, focus turning on Harry for a moment.Rick seemed interested too, stepping closer to him. “ECDC? How did you get all the way here? Why?” Harry was the only focus of the group now, stress down by being safe and able to assess more then just surviving. Taking a small breathe, Harry settles into explaining what he could comfortably give away. “The ECDC is The European Centre for Disease Control. It was a newer facility, mean to mimic this one and help with global disease efforts. It was too new, without any really large hazard assessments or large supply stores. It was over run and ran out of fuel about a month ago.”The group seemed to show sympathy, it being obvious by his look that Harry had been on the move since then. Rick offers a moment of silence before asking the next question. “It's in Europe?” Harry blinked a bit, unsure of what was being asked at first, then unsure just what people knew here. Europe had plenty of time to find out about the spread over the continents and the world. “You mean the Dead Walking? It's everywhere. No one was safe from this. I travelled here by ship in hope that the CDC would still be standing, that maybe I could help here.”The group seemed to deflate a bit, some of the good cheer leaving them. Dr. Jenner stepped in, waving the group towards the elevator. “We need to leave and lock down this floor. Vi, shut off the main lights.” The group seemed to want to ask him more questions but followed after Jenner as the lights started to go out, leaving the area pitch black. Harry followed at the back, keeping a respectful distance from the Atlanta group, watching the floor lights go out. They seemed to flicker before they died. It was a tight fit in the elevator with Harry squeezed between the Oriental man and crossbow guy. Some small talk bounced between people, Harry keeping himself quiet and unassuming, as it would be best not to get on anyone's bad side this early. The elevator brought them to some sort of office area before shutting down to conserve electricity. Jenner lead them to a large circular room, introducing this part of the building as Area 5. Rick asked the obvious question of where the rest of the staff were and Jenner explained the rash of abandonment and suicides that had befallen the building. Collecting the necessary supplies Jenner asked them all to give blood now to make sure no one was hiding an infection.The blonde girl questioned the need for it, since infected people ran high fevers, but Jenner only explained the need to be thorough and follow at least some rules. Harry made sure he was first to get his blood drawn, wanting to come off as trustworthy and not suspicious. Jenner was efficient, if a little out of practice, quickly finding Harry’s vein. “So, the ECDC? How did that happen?” Harry perked up a bit at the small talk while they waited for his blood to finish filling the vials. “I’m not entirely sure. Unfortunately I arrived after the power went down. The back up system hadn’t been connected yet, so it was already in ruins by the time I arrived and the area abandoned.” The group listened curiously as the two medical experts talked, taking in the scraps of information sorely needed. “That so? It’s unfortunate to have an asset lost so quickly.” Jenner withdrew the needle from Harry’s arm and offered a cotton ball. “Yes. It was still well into the panic that swept the populace but I managed to secure passage on a civilian boat heading to Mexico. I convinced them to  let me off in Port Royal. It was eerie. I hadn’t been on land again until then and it was much too quiet for a city.” Harry got up and let the seat be filled by the next person to draw blood, sitting a bit away from the rest of the group. “Well, It’s good you made it here safely through the pile up on the high ways.” Rick said with a voice filled with compassion, holding a small boy’s hand while his blood was drawn.  Soon enough the blood drawing was complete with one of the blonde girls growing faint. Concern sprang up through the survivors, the group explaining how they ran out of food days ago. Jenner seemed to think it over, then offered the kitchen to them.It was a mad scramble to kitchen after that, the promise of food a high motivator. Harry stayed out of the way, having at least eaten that day, watching the group of strangers curiously. There was a mousy blonde woman and a little girl, mother and daughter probably, the African American man and woman who were probably a couple, two blonde girls who looked alike and possible sisters, the crossbow guy and handcuff man who were probably brothers if their mannerisms were anything to go by, A dark haired woman, a little boy, and Rick Grimes was a family by the matching rings on the adults, Fisherman Hat who was by far the oldest and without company, Oriental Boy who looked no older then 18, and Deputy Shotgun who looked like a former coworker to Rick. By the tension between Deputy and Rick's wife, there was probably something a little more then friends going on or had gone on. Even the apocalypse couldn't seen to stop human drama. Harry was tempted to laugh but kept it to himself, finding it a little ridiculous with the Dead knocking at their doors that people still had energy to worry about affairs.The mass of people following Jenner gushed over the fully stocked pantry. It could have fed an army and had been left all to one single soul and now a group of hungry strangers. Harry was quick to offer introductions as well as pitch in to cook the food while Crossbow, who was Daryl Dixon, and Handcuffs, who was the older brother Merle Dixon, raided the alcohol. Fisherman hat was Dale, who owned the camper outside, and oriental guy was Glenn, a former pizza delivery boy. Rick's wife was Lori and his son was Carl. The two blonde sisters were Andrea and Amy, the former the more assertive of the two. The African American couple were T-Dog, a nickname apparently, and Jacqui. The mother and daughter duo was Carol and Sophia, who recently lost the father. Deputy Shotgun was Shane Walsh, Rick's former partner at work from Before, and was the reason why Lori and Carl escaped to Atlanta while Rick was in a coma at a Hospital. It was a miracle the family had been reunited, and obvious that Shane felt a little more then a best friend's duty towards Lori. Harry vowed to try and keep out of that brewing mess.Dinner turned into a joyous affair with the introduction of alcohol. Carl was allowed to try a sip of wine and immediately dubbed it disgusting. Daryl had made it his mission to get Glenn drunk, Merle turning the same attention towards Harry. “Come on Boy, You can't have had your first taste of the good stuff yet. What's the age limit in that country of yours anyway?” Harry just kept a polite smile, already able to tell Merle was half cut, or acting that way anyway, not taking too much offensive from the Dixon Brothers less then clean mouths. This did bring up a curious question thought, Harry wondering how old he looked to the group around him. “Just out of curiosity, How old do you think I am?”The rest of the Atlanta group pitched in at the question, the consensus being somewhere between 18 and 22. Harry just smiled a bit wider, refusing the bottle of wine from Merle for the third time. “Actually, I turned 29 i think a couple weeks ago. It was July right?” A few people refused to believe him, claiming he looked to young and was still in collage for sure. Merle seemed to get a thoughtful expression though, looking at him a bit more intensely then before. Daryl was quick to gain his attention, noticing the look, saving Harry was having to bring up the awkward staring.“So what have you had before, since you keep refusing this?” Merle shook the almost empty wine bottle in his direction, before downing the last of it. Most of the group were drunk, Jenner sitting to the side and not participating, a few able to concentrate on the conversations around them. Harry hummed a bit, before smirking and reaching into his bag. Since he was around muggles he'd taken to keeping his bottomless bag inside a regular muggle backpack to avoid suspicion of large objects coming from it. It had been more of an issue early on in the Infection.Grabbing a bottle inside, Harry puts the bottle on the table with a flourish. “If I'm going to drink, I'm not drinking that lady stuff.” Harry smirked a bit wider at the affronted look on Merle's face, since he's just downed an entire bottle of wine. Quick to grab some smaller cups, he pours a bit of fire whisky for himself and another for Merle, and Daryl since his attention had been pulled from the very drunk Glenn at the introduction of a new alcohol. Offering the cups, he takes up his own and offers a toast to the brothers. “To a new Hope.” It was toast mostly for himself but most of the table pitched in as well.Harry tipped his glass back, downing the fiery drink with ease in one go, while Merle and Daryl immediately coughed and rubbed at their chests. “What is hell is in this stuff? Burns like f@ck@ng lava.” Daryl was very vocal about his opinion while Merle kept quiet. He looked down at his still almost full glass then at Harry's empty one. “A’ight, guess the Brit has a set of b@lls after all.” Harry can only laugh, wondering when the approval of a couple country hicks actually starting mattering to him, pouring himself another glass. “If you're too weak to drink it, i'll take it.”Harry playfully reaches for Merle's glass, but both brothers take the challenge and knock back the glasses. They don't ask for another. Shane is sitting next to him, watching the exchange with a little amusement, focus taken off of Lori and Rick across from them for a moment. “What is in that stuff? Has to be strong to get the Dixon's to back off.” Harry hums, then smirks, offering the bottle to the table. “I call it Fire Whisky.” Daryl snorts, taking another bottle of wine over the whisky. “Better off just calling it Lava. Sh@t burns.”Some refused, already too drunk to drink more, but Shane and Rick take a glass each. Harry is impressed when Shane manages to finish his glass, Rick giving up halfway. The evening begins to wind down with Jenner showing them rooms to stay in, which were more offices then actual bedrooms, mentioning to go easy on power and the hot water. This caused a mad scramble to pick rooms and get in the shower, the call of warm water very compelling. There was limited space available since the power is being conserved so people had to share rooms.The sisters, Andrea and Amy, roomed together, while Merle and Daryl took another. The Grimes Family fit themselves into a room, while Carol and Sophia took the one across. T-dog and Jacqui took a room, leaving two for the single men. Dale offered to room with Glenn, helping the drunk boy onto a pillow mattress, leaving Harry to room with Shane. The debate on who got the couch was short lived, Harry claiming the floor before Shane could. He'd much rather have space and a quick exit then bundle up on the small couch. Old habits to live by.Harry offered the shower to Shane first as he collected pillows and sheets to make a makeshift bed on the floor. By the time Harry was done and clean clothing selected from rooms closet Shane was finished and getting ready for bed. Harry was quick to take his turn so he could spend as much time as he could under the hot water. Cleaning charms were handy but still left the grimy feeling behind. Nothing beat a deep clean scrub with actual soap and water.When Harry emerged Shane was gone from the room. Shrugging, not responsible for his room mates whereabouts, he settled into putting away and sorting his belongings back into his bag. The bottomless bag had been instrumental to his survival so far. It was truly bottomless, holding several pieces of furniture as well as all of his other scavenged supplies, as well as being easy to camouflaged. There was no telling how many wizards were left alive, or even if the Secrecy act could still be monitored, but Harry felt it best to hide the obviously magical items he possessed. Best not to test how accepting people could be under the current stressful circumstances.With Shane gone and Harry freshly cleaned, packed, and ready for anything, the wizard found himself with some free time. Not even remotely tired, especially after the events of the evening, Harry found himself roaming the halls. It was quiet but not eerily so. The sound of buzzing electronics and safety lights were a sorely missed background noise. It gave a sense of safety, or normalcy, after a month of living at sea and sleeping in empty houses.   Harry’s wandering found him back in the main room, which was empty except for Dr. Jenner, where the doctor was looking over some video files. “Hello Jenner. Can’t sleep?” The doctor looked at Harry as the younger man joined him at the consoles. “Afraid not. Too much to think about. How about you? I thought you’d take advantage and get a decent sleep.” Harry looked at the videos playing, they seemed to be journal recordings, before looking back at Jenner. “I can’t really settle. It almost seems too good to be true, the feeling of safety. It’s a little hard to let go. I’ll probably crash in a few hours when the alcohol runs it course.” Jenner hummed softly, pausing the video and turning fully to face Harry. They shared a look, Jenner’s face full of uncertainty, before the wizard sighed. “How long?” The doctor flinched, turning away from the compassionate look in Harry’s eyes, remaining silent for a moment. “How long have I been alone, or how long do we have left? I know you know what happens when the power runs out.” Harry took a deep breath, crossing his arms and leaning against the console. “I suppose both. The building has been active for a month, on severely reduced functions I gathered, but it won’t last forever. Have we made any progress at least?” Harry couldn’t stop his voice from being hopeful, keeping the desperation as hidden as he could. He wanted, no, needed a solution to the mess the world had become.  Jenner was silent for a brief, agonizingly taunting, moment before sighing and closing down the video. “It’s been a while. I stopped counting, to be honest, when it became too much to know. There’s still time, enough to come to terms with everything, before the end. The results are...” Jenner paused, fiddling with his sleeves while Harry watched him intently. “The samples were unfortunately lost, due to contamination. With the remaining power, even with samples, I doubt..” The doctor trailed off, not looking at the hope slowly being crushed on Harry’s face. Harry took careful breaths, hands gripping his own arms to almost painful levels, staring down at Jenner. “There’s.. nothing? Nothing at all?” Jenner flinched but looked up in determination. “Well, there is nothing here. Communication with the other research stations went down early so, I can’t say with 100% accuracy that there is nothing at all but.. There is nothing in America. I’m sorry.” Harry could feel his hopes shatter. He put everything into the CDC, a foolish move perhaps in the end, but it had been his last option. His last hope to save his family from a fate worse then death. Harry took a steadying breath, waving off the concern Jenner was showing him. “I... I see...” Harry stood straight, looking around the room to keep his gaze away from the pity he could see in Jenner’s eyes. “I suppose... In the end, it was only a dream that America could... Sorry, I think I’ll head to bed now.” Harry tried not to think that he was running away from Jenner but he couldn’t stay in that room with the man who had shattered him. “Right, of course. I’ll see you in the morning, Harry.” His pace quickly took him back to the hallways, passing a very inebriated Rick heading towards to main room, and down the winding pathways. Most of them were dark save for safety lights, powered down to conserve energy, with pitch black rooms and shadowed corners hiding him away from anyone who might see him. It took a moment to orientate himself but he eventually found a storage area, full to the brim with every medical item imaginable, hunkering down beside an examination table. The room was dark, only the light from the hallway illuminating the area, which was what Harry wanted. No one could see or hear him as he broke down sobbing, glasses landing on the floor as he covered his eyes and wept. It was long overdue, releasing the tension that had wound up tighter and tighter since the first case of Inferism was documented at St. Mungo’s, Harry finally letting out the pain, sadness, guilt, remorse, hopelessness, and doubt that had been festering beneath his fool’s hope of a plan.  Running to America, chasing a passing dream of an end to the situation that was now reality, was nothing more then running from his own insecurity. His own rage. His own unending guilt for the blood on his hands.  Harry knew, deep inside, that the CDC wouldn’t be able to fix anything. It wouldn’t fix Ron. It wouldn’t fix what he had done to his family, killing his first friend out of mercy, or what they would think of him when the found out the truth. Finding Grimmauld Place empty had been a misstep, no one to change his focus and bring him back to what needed to be done instead of what he hoped could be done, to keep him from following his misguided plan.  It was too late now. Even if he had found salvation here, or even if he didn’t, how on earth was Harry supposed to get it back home to his family now? Apparation couldn’t be done over an entire ocean of distance and it would be fool’s luck to find another ship to go back to England. Harry had run from his family and stranded himself in a foreign country without any way of getting back or even a back up plan. This is why Hermione was the one who made the plans. Everything poured from him, escaping in deep, body aching, sobs. He had abandoned his family in his grief, unable to cope with his own actions, covering it all up with a ‘purpose’ that no longer existed. Harry was utterly, and truly, lost. It took some time, half an hour maybe , before the sobs settled down into silent tears. Harry could feel his body trembling, energy tapped out, slumped against the examination table. It was the end of the line for now, at least. His emotions had slowly numbed, coping with the onslaught by filtering it out, until the tears stopped and Harry could finally think. The CDC was a bust, manned only by a Doctor who had given up, with no hope and no alternative.  What was there now?Harry slowly looked around the room, placing his glasses back on after wiping his face, taking in the stockpile of supplies. A stockpile that, sooner rather then later, would be nothing but rubble and ash. It wasn’t a matter of If but of When. The back up power would run out of gas eventually. Jenner’s vague answer gave Harry a hint that it would much sooner then anticipated.  It wasn’t much, it wasn’t even a plan, but Harry was a man of action more then a man of plans. His choices in Hogwarts could attest to that. Harry might not be able to live, to truly live, but he was an expert at surviving. Living his childhood at the Dursley’s more then just taught him that. Action was better then stagnating on a sterile floor.With some semblance of steps to take, Harry picked himself up off the floor and stepped out back into the dimly lit hallway. He had some scavenging to do. It made sense, it was something Harry was good at and it was something he didn’t need to think about. Harry was a survivor long before he ended up a hero. Returning to his room found Shane still missing, which was odd but Harry wouldn’t question his good fortune. Grabbing his backpack he quickly head back out, turning down the first dark hallway he sees and heading into the first room. It was a bare office already stripped of most useful items, holding mostly paperwork and office supplies, but Harry made quick work of the room. He grabbed anything even remotely worth while, from pens to decorative couch cushions. Harry was going to test just how bottomless this bag really was. It could have been minutes or hours, possibly the whole night, and another bottle of whisky before Harry crashed back into his room. He barely scratched the surface on what was stored in Area 5, focused on anything medical related, before his energy waned and Harry could barely focus on what he was picking up anymore. The ferocity had been sated, the deep need to get up and do something appeased, leaving Harry exhausted. He could do more in the morning, do more when he could feel something. Shane was still gone, something Harry barely noticed, before curling up under the blankets on the floor of his room. His backpack was lazily thrown beside him, heavier then before as the contents stressed the weightless charm. Harry had only began to doze, mind blessedly silent, when Shane returned. The man was a bit more tipsy, obviously had continued drinking after the dinner, and almost tripped over Harry on the floor. The lights turned on brighter with Shane's movements, Harry stirring when he noticed Shane sitting on the couch with his face into his hands. The angry red claw marks on his neck were still lightly bleeding.Harry paused for only a moment, wondering where the marks had come from, what had happened to cause it, and why, but decided none of it mattered and wasn't his business. As a Healer his only responsibility was to heal the injured, Shane could deal with the perpetrator on his own time. “Let me help with that.” Shane flinched, seeming to have forgotten Harry was rooming with him, as well as surprised by the rasp in Harry’s voice. It was a lot harsher then sleepiness would cause. The wizard gathered some supplies from his pack, grabbing a quick heal paste as well as disinfectant cream, and some bandaging supplies pilfered from the CDC. He didn't need the bandages to heal but just needed to keep up appearances of being a muggle doctor.“It's fine. You don't need to do that.” Shane seemed uneasy talking about the scratches, whether he was guilty or embarrassed about having them and possibly leery about who gave them to him, but Harry was determined. “Don't be stubborn. I don't rightly care who did it, whether is was Carol or Daryl Dixon, or why, but it can't be comfortable and I'm also a doctor. Stop being a baby about it.” Harry blamed the alcohol a bit for how brazen he was being, as well as the numb feeling where his emotions should be, but the harsh language seem to surprise Shane and stopped his fussing.Moving closer Harry was quick to apply the paste over the scratches, making sure they were covered, then pressed a gauze to it and lightly wrapped it with bandages. It was loose enough to not hinder breathing. “Now let's get some sleep. I'm tired and drunk, you're probably tired, drunk, and now injured. I think we deserve a good night of rest for once.” Nodding, deeming the matter over, Harry slunk back to this makeshift bed and curled back up, giving a satisfied sigh. If nothing else Harry could still be useful, even if it was to the benefit of strangers.With his back to Shane, all he could hear was the shuffling as the cop's boots came off as Shane settled in to sleep. The cop slowly settled until the only sound was their breathing and the muffled background noise of the building. No growls, no moans, just the peace of safety. It was perfect, for now.“Harry..” The wizard didn't stir, playing off as being asleep. Shane didn't really need him to answer back anyway, the man only checking if he was listening. “Thanks.”'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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