Malphegor
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TWD: TW Ch. 02
🕑 Added 2026-01-25 16:47:08 +0000 UTCIf someone had given Lucien a choice, trolls and Voldemort at Hogwarts versus flesh-eating corpses in an American apocalypse, he would've picked the castle without a second thought. At least at Hogwarts, people were trying to teach you how not to die.
Here you were just meat waiting to be eaten.
But he was here now, wasn't he? No point crying about it.
One thing his previous life had taught him, back when he'd been a uni student stressing over exams and career prospects like they mattered, was that complaining changed exactly nothing. You either adapted or you died, and he had already died once. He wasn't keen on doing it again.
He stared down at the trunk in his lap. This case and its contents were everything he had.
Right. Think. Plan. Survive.
First things first: his magic was still there. He'd been terrified it might've disappeared during whatever the hell had happened when he'd hit that barrier. Some kind of dimensional slip, maybe, or a portal malfunction, or... it didn't matter. What mattered was that when he'd touched his wand, he'd felt that warm hum of recognition.
The wand was potential power he couldn't access yet. Thirteen inches of ebony and thunderbird feather that might as well be a fancy stick until he learned spells. The textbooks were his path forward. The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 was going to be his survival manual.
And the Invisibility Cloak...
He pulled it out again, letting the fabric pool in his lap. The light seemed to bend around it, making his legs look like they ended in nothing.
The dead things outside seemed to hunt by sight and sound. Maybe smell too, given how they'd zeroed in on him earlier. A proper Invisibility Cloak, even one that wasn't a Deathly Hallow, should hide him from at least two of those senses. Three, if he was lucky.
If he was careful, he could move through this ruined city, scout ahead, and avoid danger. Maybe even slip past entire hordes while everyone else had to fight or run.
But no one could know.
His hands tightened on the fabric.
In a world where order had collapsed, where people were probably already killing each other over cans of beans, what would they do to someone who could do magic?
Best case? They'd think he was a freak. Worst case? They'd cut him open to figure out how he worked.
And the cloak alone would be enough. Someone desperate would murder a kid to get their hands on something that could make them invisible to the dead.
He needed to hide it. Play the part of a normal, scared, harmless child. And make people want to protect him.
He'd been so excited to go to Hogwarts, to finally be somewhere his magic was normal. Now he had to pretend to be a Muggle in the worst possible circumstances.
Footsteps on the stairs pulled him from his thoughts. Shane was coming back down. He had two bottles of water tucked under one arm and what looked like a chocolate bar in his hand.
"Upstairs is clear. No walkers. I found these in a desk drawer." He held out one of the water bottles and the chocolate. "Here. We need to move soon."
"Thank you, Officer Walsh." Lucien took them.
Shane's expression softened. He crouched down, getting to eye level, and Lucien noticed the lines of stress around his eyes.
"You can call me Shane, kid. We're past the formalities stage, I think." He managed something that might've been a smile under different circumstances. "What's your name? And how the hell did you end up out here by yourself?"
Lucien had his story ready. He'd put it together while Shane was upstairs, piecing together something believable.
"Lucien. Lucien Green." His mother's maiden name, pulled from memories of this body's childhood. "I... I hit my head." He gestured vaguely at the bruise on his forehead. "Things are fuzzy. I remember being with my family, and then... I don't know. We got separated. And I woke up alone."
It was close enough to the truth to sell. He had hit his head. He was separated from his family, just by a few dimensions rather than a few city blocks.
"I was trying to find food," he continued. "I didn't know it was this bad. I thought maybe shops would still be open, or... I don't know. I wasn't thinking straight."
"Christ, kid. You're lucky you're not dead."
"I know," Lucien said quietly, and that, at least, was completely honest.
Shane stood. He looked exhausted. "Do you remember anything about where you might've been staying?"
Lucien shook his head. "It's all... blurry. Sorry."
"Don't apologize. Head injuries are no joke." Shane paused. "I'm gonna be straight with you. I was at the hospital when this all went down. My partner... My best friend is there in a coma. I had to leave him."
He wasn't looking at him anymore. His eyes were fixed on something in the middle distance. "I promised I'd look after his family. They're out there somewhere, and I'm stuck in here with..." He cut himself off, looking down at Lucien. "I'm gonna get you somewhere safe, alright? But I need to find my people too. You understand?"
"Your friend's family," Lucien said. "You promised to protect them."
"Yeah."
Shane was torn between duty and loyalty.
"I won't slow you down. I promise. I can keep up."
Shane studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "You're a tough kid, I'll give you that. Lot of kids your age would be crying their eyes out right now."
Lucien ducked his head. "Crying won't help."
"No," Shane agreed. "It won't." He moved to the barricaded door, peering through a gap at the street outside. The moaning of the walkers was constant. "We're gonna wait for them to disperse a bit, then we head out. There's a neighborhood not far from here, we might be able to find an empty house."
"Do you think..." Lucien unscrewed the water bottle, taking a sip. "Do you think the military will come? And set up safe zones like they did in the films?"
He knew the answer, the CDC was probably already a lost cause, the military scattered or dead, but Lucien, the scared kid, wouldn't know that.
Shane's expression shuttered. "Yeah. Yeah, they will. They're probably setting them up right now. We just gotta stay alive long enough to find one."
He was lying. He had seen something that had killed his faith in government rescue. But he was still trying to maintain hope, if only for the kid he'd picked up.
"Okay," Lucien said. He took a bite of the chocolate bar, forcing himself to chew slowly even though his stomach was screaming for more. He'd need the energy, and throwing up from eating too fast would just waste it. "Thank you for helping me. I know you have your own people to find."
Shane looked at him, and for a moment his expression was unreadable. Then he sighed. "You're not slowing me down. And even if you were..." He shrugged. "I'm a cop. Protecting people is the job."
Lucien wasn't sure if that was a compliment or if Shane was trying to convince himself that dragging along a random kid was worth the risk.
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the walkers outside. The moaning had decreased slightly, some of them were wandering off, losing interest in the barricaded building. Lucien finished his chocolate and water, tucking the empty wrapper in his pocket out of habit. Littering in the apocalypse seemed absurd, but old habits died hard.
"We should move soon," Shane finally said. "Sun's getting lower. We don't want to be out after dark."
"Right." Lucien stood, brushing dust off his trousers. His clothes were already filthy. "I'm ready when you are."
Shane checked his gun and moved to the back of the lobby where he'd apparently found a fire exit. "Stay close. If I tell you to run, you run. Don't look back. Understood?"
"Understood."
"Good kid." Shane put his hand on the door handle, preparing to ease it open.
That's when the shouting started.
"Help! Is anyone there?! Please, I need help!"
A man's voice echoed from the street outside.
Shane's whole body went rigid.
"Shit," he muttered, abandoning the back door and moving quickly to the window. Lucien followed, keeping low.
Through the grimy glass, they could see a man stumbling down the street. Mid-thirties, dragging one leg behind him. Blood soaked through his jeans from what looked like a nasty wound on his thigh. Behind him were three walkers. Maybe four. Hard to tell from this angle.
"Please! Let me in!"
The man had spotted them. Or spotted the barricaded office building, at least. He changed direction, limping faster.
"Someone's in there! I saw movement! Open the door! I saw you!"
Shane's face instantly turned grim.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.
