Corpse Magic @ezraverwayn
Chapter 1

Henlo Nuggies! And welcome to another fanfiction I probably shouldn't be starting because I have tons of others to update, but I cant hep myself because I have a too active imagination. Anyhoozy, this is my FIRST CROSSOVER!

This will also be SLASH and maybe M!Preg so there is everyone's warning. If you don't like it, oh the fuck well, there is a back space button and don't bother leaving a review if you don't like it. We don't want your close minded negativity here.

Anyway for everyone who does like SLASH and M!Preg please enjoy the story and don't forget to R'nR'!

Main Pairing: HarryxDaryl

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to the Harry Potter franchise or the Walking Dead franchise. They belong to their respectful owners and I take no profit in making this. This is purely for entertainment only.

A/N: I'm just warning all y'all that this ain't following the tv series or the comic series. It's gonna follow how I want to write it so I don't wanna see any comments saying, 'But Ezra this isnt how it goes on tv,' or, 'Ezra you're doing it wrong.' No, hush and let me write how and what I wanna write and if you don't like it well, there's a back button.

He thought they were Inferi at first, but then they kept walking as they were set on fire. It was only by pure luck that he found out they only fell and stayed down with a blow to the head. He found out when Ron, his best friend, died. He woke up to groaning, which was nothing new to the hungry duo, only to see Ron, with white dead eyes and dirty pale skin, leaning over him with his mouth gaping open and drooling like mad.

He yelled at him asking him what he thought he was doing. When he didn't get anything other than groaning he realized what was happening. His friend had died in his sleep due to starvation. With a heavy heart he fought against the abnormal strength of his friend and the other fell back impaling his head on a spiked wooden post they kept around camp. He waited for a moment, but Ron didn't move again.

He held back tears as he gathered all his and Ron's things before he setting Ron's body on fire. That was what he was taught, by Hermione before they were split up, burn the bodies after they die or the contagion would spread into the earth. He left the area they camped out in and started heading west since he knew heading east would lead him to the ocean.

He spent the next few months walking in the same direction only sleeping when he could find a good spot or a tree he could climb to get away from the Inferi wanna be's. He couldn't even find a suitable place to set up wards or anything.

It was starting to get cold out as winter approached when he was surrounded in a building by men, Raiders, he called groups of people like them, who wanted him. He hid in a small cabinet and held his breath each time something past. He heard their taunts. How they wanted his belongings and how they were going to make him their plaything, their pet. He couldn't help it that he was small, and pretty looking. He was often mistaken as a girl.

He held his breath and tensed his body as someone came to a stop in front of the cabinet he was hiding in. He found feel the bubbling warmth of his magic as it reacted to his fear. He didn't want to be found. He didn't want to be used. He wanted to be safe.

And his magic listened.

He knew what apparation felt like and he knew his magic forcefully took him from the situation like he wanted. He just didn't know where he was at. He was surrounded by forestry as he sat, still in the position he held while in the cabinet, on hot pavement with his ankle throbbing in sharp pains. He looked around at all the abandoned cars and the vegetation that was consuming the metal and the other human made structures. He slowly stood up and winced as he put pressure on his badly sprained ankle.

He hobbled as best as he could to get out of the open area. He didn't know where he was or if there were any people about and he wasn't about to try and get their attention. His magic still burned inside him as he felt it hot tendrils trying to fix the damage the apparating caused. He managed to get into the shade of a tree when he heard people speaking and the sounds of crunching leaves underfoot.

"The sound came from this way," he heard a male voice say quietly. He could pick up the deep southern twang in his voice as the man spoke. He hid himself as well as he could as he heard another voice speak. It was male as well with the same accent, but a deep tone than the other male.

"Hopefully it's not a walker munching on a catch."


He gulped softly as he heard the footsteps get closer and closer to his position before they stopped. He opened his closed eyes and peered up and saw two large men in front of him. One of the men was shorter than the other, but was still fairly taller than himself. The tallest man had short military cut dark blond hair and dark blue eyes he was dressed in a dirty tank top and ripped pants tucked into boots. The other man, just a little shorter than the first man, had dark brown hair that reached just about his chin and light blue eyes he wore a dark plaid shirt with its sleeves cut off and dark fitted jeans with black boots. They both carried weapons.

"Well look at what we got here," the bland man said as he looked a bit laid back, but he knew the man would be on him faster than a tiger on a bunny, "and what's your name pretty boy?"

He shot a glance at the men before licking his lips and speaking in a very raspy voice, "Harry. Harry Potter, and yours?"

He watched as he dark haired man take in his appearance of dark shaggy hair long enough to reach his shoulders, bright green eyes that seemed to glow, and a slim almost emaciated body covered in a light t-shirt and sweater with form fitted skinny jeans ripped at the thighs. "Merle Dixon. This is my brother Daryl. Now whatcha gonna do is slowly stand up and turn around. Daryl is gonna take you by both your arms and we'll take ya to our camp. They'll be wondering why you're here," he said as he gestured with his sharp knife.

"I-I can't stand. My ankle," he said as he gestured down to his unbooted foot. It was swollen and slowly turning a multitude of colors thanks to the bruising.

"I'll have'ta carry ya then," said the dark haired man as he walked forward after strapping a crossbow onto his back. He waited until Harry was holding his belongings before kneeling to grab him. Harry held in a gasp as Daryl first touched him. His magic settled and seemed to almost want to curl up against the other man like a cat finding a patch of sun it liked.

Did Harry just find his soulmate in the middle of the apocalypse?

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