A/N: I'd like to thank the people who took the time to review: Blackravens5, CountJ, The Big Bad Wolf-9, Evanelle, MrRobertsIII, Ranger96, 00 Non C. Anon 00, Kingdom Hearts Slayer, AnonBryd, asteros, K07IN, Basia Orci, dragonfighter11, Ravenclaw Samurai, SkittishLupine, Pedro52, rmgiroux and four guests.

Sorry for taking so long to update. On a more positive note, the next chapter will hopefully come around a bit faster. I aim to have written and posted the next one before January. Wish me luck!

By the way, is anyone else super excited for TLOU 2? That second trailer was intense!

.

Unfaltering Bereavement

.

One of the reasons why no cure for lycanthropy exists is that no one has ever gone from being a werewolf to being a normal human again. If such a person existed, their fluids or their flesh could be harvested and used to make a vaccine or, with luck, a cure. The blood of a former werewolf would do wonders as a potion ingredient to create a health potion designed to target the sickness that was lycanthropy and eradicate it.

It is a fact in the field of potion-brewing that possessing the blood of a person immune to a sickness makes it much easier to create a cure for that specific sickness. The first cure for Dragon Pox was made that way, and three decades later a skilled potionsmaker finally managed to synthesize a cure that did not rely on the blood of a person who would die one day and no longer be avalaible to donate.

That is why a cure whose main ingredient is the blood of a specific person is not considered a 'true' cure in the eyes on the wizarding world. Finding an immune person is difficult, and in some cases it took so many decades to create a cure based around the use of the person's blood that by the time the potion was invented, the immune person was dead of old age - no longer a viable source of blood.

Harry can vaguely recall Snape talking about blood healing in Potions class, during his third year. Come to think of it, the mention of blood healing was probably part of Snape's not so subtle hints about Lupin's status as a werewolf. From what Harry can remember, a blood-based cure is considered Blood Magic, which is (which was, if the Ministry no longer exists) highly illegal. So if a person immune to lycanthropy were to be found, you would have to apply for a permit to use blood magic. If your cause was just, the Ministry would offer you a permit after a year or two of endless paperwork. Then and only then would you be allowed to research for a cure. The more complex the sickness, the longer it took to find a cure. In many cases, the immune person would die of natural causes long before a potion using their blood as an ingredient is made. Without a source of blood, there is no potion, which is why blood healing is extremely rare in the wizarding world - too much effort for too little reward.

Luckily, magical sicknesses are much more complex than muggle ones, which is why no wizard or witch has ever died of cancer, hemophilia or other such non-magical illnesses. It also made it rather obvious during the time of the Black Plague to see who was magical and who was not, which had led to some annoyingly persistent witchhunts.

Cordyceps is dangerous, yes, but it is still a muggle sickness. Potions will have an easier time dealing with Cordyceps compared to magical sicknesses. Harry is so used to thinking of some magical arts as illegal that even now, in a place without Aurors to enforce laws, it did not occur to him to seriously make an attempt at Blood Magic until Ellie asked him to.

Harry grits his teeth and forces himself to focus on Sam.

"We'll need to restrain you," he tells Sam gently, "in case the cure does not work."

Sam looks away. "If I... become one of them... I want you to kill me as fast as you can. Henry won't be able to do it."

Harry doesn't have what it takes to promise he'll murder a preteen. But Joel is made of sterner stuff and steps up:

"Don't worry," says Joel with hints of affection in his gruff voice. "I'll stop you the moment you become dangerous."

Joel doesn't offer to help with preparations. Instead he stares intently at Sam while Ellie heads out of the room to find something that will serve as good restraints. Joel stays in place, a great guard dog ready to attack at the mere hint of a threat.

Henry comes back with a small salad bowl, a knife, scissors and two spoons.

"I brought the bowl for your mix and the knife an' scissors so you can cut those plants of yours," he explains. His eyes keep flicking over to Sam, though whenever Sam looks back Henry pretends to be looking elsewhere.

"Thank you," says Harry. He hesitates. "If this doesn't work... then you should say goodbye to Sam now, so there aren't any regrets."

It's easy to see that Henry struggles with the knowledge of Sam's infection but Harry has to push the man to say his goodbyes, or there'll be regrets, just like Harry regrets never having had the opportunity to say goodbye to Sirius.

But Henry refuses to listen. "Sam will heal," he insists. "With your magic tricks, he'll heal."

"They're not tricks," grumbles Harry. But he does not insist. Henry is a grown man who can make his own mistakes.

Ellie comes back with rotten bedsheets and mouldy shirts that had probably belonged to some well-off businessman once upon a time. Someone rich enough to afford this big house.

The thought of money makes Harry think of Draco Malfoy, strangely enough. Ever since arriving to this world, Harry has thought of Ron, of Hermione and of all the people he cares about who are probably still fighting in the war against Voldemort while he's doing absolutely nothing, but he has never really cared enough to think about Malfoy. With Voldemort back and then Harry arriving in a world full of inferi, his rivalry with Malfoy had lost its importance and become childish, a reminder of Harry's years at Hogwarts. Harry imagines Malfoy's expression if he were faced with a horde of ravenous Clickers and he grins. That does the trick to cheer him up and take off some of the stress from having Sam's life in his hands.

"Henry, could you help me out?" asks Ellie. She's ripping the cloth up to make long strips, which she then braids into ropes.

Henry doesn't ask what the makeshift ropes are for or why Joel is staring at Sam while his hand is on his holstered gun. Instead, the man sits down, studiously ignoring his wounded brother in a childish 'if I can't see it then the problem doesn't exist' way.

Sam's eyes tear up at the dismissal, and Harry purses his lips, angrily beginning to prepare the potion. Cursing Henry's idiocy in his mind, Harry brings out all the dried herbs from his bag and organizes them meticulously, mind racing over all the information from Potions class. Hogwarts feels like a distant memory, and Snape's verbal abuse is the main thing Harry remembers from Potions. All the knowledge about healing potions feels dried up, and Harry is acutely aware that he's spent so much time away from magical society that he's begun to forget what makes him a wizard. He no longer has his wand, and he's steadily forgetting what Hogwarts has taught him.

There's this terrible fear that being in this muggle-only world has done more to make him normal and ordinary than the Dursleys ever managed to, and he might not be enough to help Sam.

-x-x-x-

The silence as Harry prepares the potion is unnerving. Sam has already been restrained by Joel and Ellie, so now everyone has nothing to do but silently stare at Harry as he cuts up the plants and grinds them into dust. He sets the water to boil under a small, contained fire while mixing the ingredients in a separate container.

When the water is bubbling with heat, he adds the mixture to it.

Now comes the blood.

As he brings a knife up to the side of his hand, the silence is broken:

"Wait," says Henry, "what are you about to do?"

"I need to add some of my blood for this to work," Harry explains. "If I don't, all Sam'll be drinking is boiled water with plants in it."

Henry shakes his head, irritated. "I meant the knife. You've been cutting other stuff with it. You can't use that to draw blood without sterilizing it first. You can't afford an infection when we don't have access to any form of medicine."

Oh.

Harry's expression must be quite telling, because Henry snorts in amusement and reaches out, hand open.

"Lemme take care of that," says the man.

Harry places the knife in Henry's palm and let the man take over.

"It's what killed our mother."

Sam is the one who said that. He doesn't look sick yet. He's just staying as relaxed as he can while tied up, looking at his brother as the man works.

"She was fighting an Infected and got her head smashed against a wall, right where a rusty nail was poking out. She would've made it if wasn't for the infection."

Ellie winces. "Must've been tough. I lost my folks too."

Sam just shrugs. "I was too young to remember most of it. Sometimes I kinda wonder how it would be if my parents were still there, you know? Someone that takes care of you and loves you."

Henry pauses. Looks up.

"I'm here for you, Sammy. You know that, right? I'm not our parents, but I do love you. I'll take care of you."

Henry's expression feels raw and open. But Sam's face lacks intensity. It's just sad.

"A bit late for that, right? I'm dying."

Henry shoves the sterilized knife at Harry in his haste. He hurries over to his brother and kneels down at the boy's level.

"You're not!" he shouts, forgetting all about stealth and the possibility of nearby foes hearing him. Henry grasps Sam's hand tightly. "It's gonna be okay, Sam. It's gonna be okay."

Sam smiles. The expression is not happy in the least - it's mocking, nearly disdainful.

"That's what you told me about the rest of your group. You said they might be alive, that we had to keep hopin', but you were wrong. D'you think I'm stupid? I was bitten! This evening I'll either be dead or one of them, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Harry, Joel and Ellie are uncomfortable witnesses in the middle of family drama. They say nothing, just watch, as the argument goes on.

Harry decides to return to his attempt at a cure, making a small opening on the back of his hand to let seven drops of blood fall into the potion.

Henry takes a deep breath. "I'm gonna let that pass because you're not in your right mind. You don't talk to me like that. You obey my rules and I keep you alive. So you will take that cure our resident miracle-maker is cooking up for you, and you'll quit whining! What do I always say about survivors?"

Harry gestures at Ellie for her to come over. She hurries to his side and sits down next to him.

Sam frowns at Henry. "But..."

"What do I say?!" Henry insists, well and truly angry now.

Meanwhile, Harry leans close to Ellie and whispers, "Can you get seven drops of blood in there?"

She nods. "Why seven?" she whispers back.

"Magical number," he explains. "It'll increase our chances of success."

At the same time, an annoyed Sam finally answers, "Survivors don't complain, they adapt."

"Exactly! So now you'll quit being grouchy and adapt. It's either turning and being shot, or taking that magical drink and maybe not turning and getting shot. So what're you gonna do?"

Ellie finishes dripping blood into the potion, and Joel gives her a bandage to take care of the incision she made.

"... Drink the shitty tea Harry's making," Sam spits out.

"Ah-ha!" says Henry, waggling his finger at his brother. "That's where you're wrong. The right term is 'magical shitty tea'. If it gives you even one chance in a million? You'll take it."

"And my 'shitty tea'," Harry drawls, "is done. So drink up, Sam."

He holds out the container. Since Sam is restrained, Henry is the one who takes the potion.

Henry holds it up to Sam's mouth and tips the potion in.

"Make sure to swallow it all, Sam," says Henry encouragingly.

Sam doesn't manage to finish the whole thing due to the disgusting taste, but when it's mostly empty Henry sets it aside and stares at Sam intently.

"How can we tell if he's cured?" asks Henry.

Joel steps forward and squints at Sam. "There's no way of telling if it works. We'll have to wait at least half a day and see if he turns."

"And if he does?" asks Ellie.

Joel pats his holster, opening his mouth to answer, but Henry speaks first:

"He won't turn. This'll work."

He's so desperate for it to be true that nobody has the heart to contradict him.

Joel clears his throat, thus getting everyone's attention.

"We need someone watchin' him at all times during the next ten to fifteen hours. If he's still normal after that, then it'll mean the cure worked or managed to delay the infection."

Harry nodded. "We can take turns watching him today. We'll keep the this room locked. Sam and whoever's watching him will stay here while the others are resting or patrolling the neighbourhood in case there are any Infected."

"Only one person in the room with Sam at all times," adds Joel, "so if he turns it's impossible for him to attack us all before being taken care of."

"Shouldn't we all stay here then?" asks Henry. "If there's a risk then there'll be safety in numbers."

"He's tied up," states Joel flatly. "We'll be takin' shifts and we won't crowd this room."

"I'll take first watch!" exclaims Ellie, her fierce expression daring anyone to comment.

Joel clearly disagrees.

"No," says the man. "I can't trust you to kill Sam if he turns and tries to attack you."

Ellie's face is red with anger. Her lips are thin and pinched and her hands are fisted at her sides.

"I'm not some sort of... of dead weight! I could help out, if you just gave me a chance!"

"I am willing to give you a chance," Joel responds, "but this situation ain't safe. If Sam turns, I want to know you're safe. I will be watching over the boy, with Henry and Harry, too."

Ellie crosses her arms over her chest and glares at Joel. "At some point things'll get serious enough that you'll have to trust me."

Henry leans over to ruffle Ellie's hair, but she slaps him away with a squawk.

Chuckling, Henry sits down on the floor. "You should be glad he cares, Ellie. One day you'll be a grown woman and expected to do your fair share of dirty work. But right now you're still a kid, so let the grown-ups take care of this while you'll be sleeping."

With a frown, Ellie stands up and heads towards the door.

"If you don't want me, then I'm going to get some food." At the last minute, hand on the doorknob, she hesitates. Turns. Looks at Sam. "Try not to die, will ya?"

And then she leaves.

There's a second of silence.

Then, Henry nudges his little brother with his elbow. "That's her saying she likes you in girl-speak," he informs Sam with a mischievous grin.

Sam rolls his eyes. "If that's what you think, then it's finally clear to me why you've never had a girlfriend."

"Hey!"

Harry laughs at Henry's betrayed expression.

The light-hearted moment is interrupted by Joel, who brings the conversation back on track:

"Henry, I'm assumin' you'll be taking first watch?"

Henry's grin disappears and he nods. "Yeah. How long will I be doing this?"

"You'll be watching over Sam for three hours," Joel explains. "We'll bring some food in for you guys in a few minutes. When you're done you can have Harry replace you." Then, adressing Harry: "You'll be here until 'round five. Then you get me up and I'll cover the evening."

Left unsaid was the fact that if Sam turned, it would be during Joel's shift. It took six hours for a bite to take.

"As long as the food you bring ain't canned peaches," says Henry with a smile. "I feel like there was nothing but that 'round Pittsburgh. Damn near sick of it."

Joel inclines his head. "Noted."

-x-x-x-

The next six hours are tense. Henry spends his shift talking with Sam, trying to make use of what time they have left. In the meanwhile, Harry Joel and Ellie patrol the surrounding area, occasionally stopping to loot abandoned homes.

There are no signs of Infected or hunters.

In the middle of the afternoon, Henry's shift is over and it's Harry's turn to watch over Sam. The time is spent impressing Sam with various feats of magic and telling him about adventures at Hogwarts. All the stories are nostalgic, with hints of sorrow. Harry still has no idea how he came to this world or how to get back.

Not even thirty minutes after Harry's shift begins, Henry shows up to keep them company and refuses to leave. Despite Joel having made it clear that there should be no more than one person in the room with Sam, Harry says nothing. Sam might be gone soon and Henry should be allowed to spend the time Sam has left with him.

When it's finally time for Joel to take over as the sun is making its way down, the tension is at an all-time high.

Sam has yet to turn.

The boy's bite has been regularly checked and though it is oozing pus, it doesn't appear to as bad it should be, according the Henry. His gruesome descriptions of the state of a bite after a few hours left to fester have little to do with Sam's wound, and that gives everyone hope.

When Joel takes over, Henry and Harry are too anxious to leave the room and continue patrols, so they stay. Joel doesn't seem happy about it, but says nothing. He doesn't even protest when Ellie joins them after realizing she'd been left alone and no one was coming out of the room.

Times passes.

The conversation grows stilted, and when the sun is gone and the sky darkening to an inky blue, the silence is absolute.

Everyone is focused on Sam, who is breathing a bit too loudly and gripping the chair so tightly it creaks. Nothing appears wrong with him, yet.

The six hour mark passes, then the seventh, and the eighth. Sam still shows no sign of violence or mindlessness.

It usually takes six hours for a bit to take but it's only when the ninth has passed and the moon is high in the sky that Joel admits defeat.

"Congratulations, Harry. Looks like you made something mighty special." The man's gaze is warm and soft, so utterly different from the tough and gruff person he usually is.

Ellie is still uncertain. "Maybe it just slowed down the infection instead of curing him. We can't know for sure without looking at him with an x-ray to search for the Cordyceps."

Henry, Harry notices, doesn't seem to care about Ellie's pessimism at all. For the past few hours he has steadily been gaining in optimism and now he is smiling so hard it looks painful, tears of relief running down his cheeks.

"What did I tell you?" exclaims Henry, giddy with joy. "What did I tell you, huh, Sam? I told you you'd make it!"

The poor boy clearly doesn't know how to react. He's just blinking at Henry blankly.

"Good to know you're okay, kid," Joel tells Sam.

The bound boy gives Joel a polite smile.

"Thank you, sir. I'm..." He hesitates on the word. "... fortunate."

-x-x-x-

There is still a bit of the miraculous cure left, so it is swiftly bottled up and set in Ellie's backpack. At first Joel insisted to carry it himself, but Harry pointed out that since the adults would be fighting against any foes they encounter, there is a higher risk of the bottle breaking. Ellie and Sam are better protected and have more space in their backpacks, so Harry hands the bottle over to Ellie. He knows her better and trusts her to guard the potion well.

When the topic of sleeping is brought up, Joel's paranoia makes an appearance.

"We need to keep Sam tied up and have someone watch him during the night," says the man. "Six hours is how long it takes to turn, but officially it's considered two days."

Henry, of course, protests. "It worked! Sam's perfectly fine and—"

"Why two days?" asks Harry, looking at Joel with his arms crossed. "Why is there such a big difference between the six-hour limit and the two days one?"

Joel sighs. "That's because people have tried to avoid bein' turned before. Sometimes the bite is on the arm or the leg, so they amputate the limb to stop the CBI. All that does is delay the infection, usually by a few hours. There's also the fact that spores take longer to infect someone than a bite. So it's standard policy for every Quarantine Zone to hold someone at least two days if there's a chance they inhaled a small enough amount of spores that CBI scanners can't detect."

"Sam was bitten," Henry snaps. "We didn't cut off his leg, so the six-hour rule applies. He's still alive now, so he's cured."

Ellie scoffs, stepping in to glare at Henry. "Well then if he's cured, there shouldn't be a problem with some extra safety, should there? If Joel's wrong, then you can say 'I told you so' tomorrow morning."

"But—"

"It makes sense," Harry intterupts, "and you have nothing to lose."

And that is enough to sway Henry.

They set up a watch that has Joel first, then Harry and finally Henry. Harry suspects that Joel thinks Henry wouldn't bother to do his job properly or wake the next one up if he is set as the first shift, so he approves of Henry being last, even if that means Harry's sleep schedule will suffer the most as the one in the middle.

The night passes uneventfully and Henry doesn't bother with an 'I told you so' when Sam is still fine the next morning.

They set off early towards the radio tower. Despite the fact that the deadline for Henry and Sam's rendez-vous with the rest of their group was yesterday, they want to verify no one is there. The chances are slim they'll find anyone, but it's done more for Henry's peace of mind than anything else. Sam doesn't seem to care when they ask for his opinion, but at least he's no longer just proclaiming the rest of his group must be dead. The boy is surprisingly neutral about the situation and defers to Henry when it comes to deciding whether or not they should head to the radio tower.

Unsurprisingly, they find no one there.

-x-x-x-

Before they can leave the suburbs of Pittsburgh, there is a decision to be made.

"So where will we be headin', then?" asks Henry. He's looking at the horizon, arms crossed over his chest. "I was aiming to join up with the Fireflies so me and my brother will have some sort of security. I figured it was better than living out in the wild. But now that you guys have a cure, you're a valuable commodity. Everyone will be wanting to get their hands on you, so you can pretty much get a guaranteed place to stay for life with food and protection. And since me and Sam helped you out against hunters and Infected, I figure you could add us in on the whole 'free housing' deal."

If we say no and go our separate ways, Harry realizes, there's nothing stopping those two from telling everyone about the cure.

And if people knew, they might decide to just steal the last remnants of the potion Harry brewed earlier, or go as far as to abduct him and Ellie. There wouldn't be any possibility for a negotiation.

Henry and Sam know enough about Harry's abilities to make it dangerous to let them go.

For the first time, Harry regrets having revealed his abilities to so many people. He might have been too trusting.

"... Sure," is what he finally says. "It wouldn't be very nice to leave you to fend for yourselves."

Joel doesn't seem to agree, ever mistrustful of others, but he says nothing.

Henry smiles. "Great." He wipes his forehead with an exagerated sigh. "That's a relief. One less thing to worry about. Right, Sam?"

The boy blinks. "Oh? Yes, right."

Henry frowns, but dismisses the lack of enthousiasm in favour of turning back to Harry and Joel.

"Sooo... where will we be headin'?"

Joel taps the side of his leg, thoughful. His gaze goes over Harry, Ellie, Henry and finally, standing a bit further away, Sam. "There are some people who will try to kill us and destroy any trace of this 'cure'. We need to find some form of protection under a group that's strong enough to fight of attackers and that has the ressources to analyze Harry's mumbo jumbo and find a way to recreate the cure. The Fireflies seem like our best bet. They have the means to distribute the cure—"

"Wait a second," says Ellie, perplexed. "What do you mean by, 'some people are gonna shank us and destroy the cure'? Won't they try to steal it, instead? Or maybe threaten us into making enough of it for them to use for themselves and those they care about?"

The way Joel looks at Ellie is not condescending, exactly, but it's clear he has just been reminded of her age and lack of experience.

"You gotta remember that while most people would do anything to get their hands on a cure," he explains, "others would get scared. Before the CBI, before the Quarantine Zones and before the martial laws, things were different. When Cordyceps appeared, a lot of people started lootin' and killing. You could get away with just about anything, and you still can, now. If the cure ever gets mass produced to the point that Cordyceps is no longer a problem, what do you think will happen to places like Pittsburgh? The goverments will be reforming and trying to get the country back in order. Hunters like those we saw won't be tolerated. They'd probably go to jail for life or just get executed. Those hunters know it, too. They know that if a cure appears, their way of living will be threatened."

Ellie seems disturbed by the thought of people actively against a cure.

Sam, who has been quiet until now, finally speaks up: "They'll be clinging on to power by any means necessary."

Joel nods. "Exactly."

"So where will we be going?" asks Harry.

It takes a second for Joel to remember what he'd been saying earlier. "Right. Well, as I mentionned, it's best if we go to the Fireflies. Finding a cure is part of their goals so we can be sure they won't stop us like hunters might. They also have guns and a lot of people working for them and, if my intel isn't too dated, their labs might come in handy. Anyone against that?"

Silence.

"Perfect." Joel claps his hands together. "The Fireflies it is."

"Do you have any way of contacting the Fireflies?" asks Henry. "Or do you know where they are? They don't tend to advertise their location, so me and Sam had planned on visiting settlements to ask for info on how to get recruited, and maybe put in a few weeks' worth of work in exchange for supplies."

Joel shakes his head. "I don't know where they are exactly. I do know someone who used to run with them and still has some connections. He'd know where they are."

"Who is this guy?" asks Henry. "How far away is he?"

Joel hesitates, looking at Henry and Sam, and then he sighs. "It's my brother Tommy. He lives in Wyoming."

"WYOMING?!" Henry exclaims, wide-eyed. "How the hell are we supposed to get there?! It would take an eternity to walk there! No, we should stick to my plan of visiting settlements and asking around to see if the Fireflies are recruiting or at least nearby."

"You're forgetting about one thing," Joel replies, tone flat, "and that's Sam. The boy has a bite mark and any scanner will reveal him as Infected."

"He's cured!" Henry snaps.

Sam just looks uninterested, at the same time ignoring Ellie who appears to be trying to engage him in conversation while the adults argue.

"Even if he doesn't turn, the scanners will think he's Infected!" Joel answers, volume rising.

"And how would you know that?" asks Henry. "Sam hasn't been scanned since he was cured. There's no way you can be sure he'd come up as Infected if anyone decides to scan him."

Joel glances at Ellie, and his jaw clenches. He says nothing.

Ellie has stopped pestering Sam and is now looking at Henry and Joel warily. She knows what Joel can't bring himself to say.

When Joel doesn't say anything more, Henry allows himself a satisfied smile. "So I guess we'll be going with my plan, then."

"No," says Ellie.

She's looking at Henry, but darts a quick glance at Joel.

"He knows Sam won't show up as healthy under a scanner because I didn't, either."

Eyes wide with horror, Henry steps back. "You're Infected?!"

"I'm immune," Ellie corrects. There is a stubborn tilt to her jaw. "I was bitten over a month ago and I never turned. My blood was one of the ingredients of Harry's cure and the reason Sam is still alive. He's probably just like me, now, and that means scanners will think he's Infected when he's fine."

"I..." Henry rubs his face, blinking in disbelief. "That's..."

"Hard to believe?" Ellie proposes.

"Shocking, mostly."

She shrugs. "Most people react that way when I tell them."

Henry bits his cheek, looking at Ellie with indecision, and then... "Can I see your bite? If you weren't Infected by spores, I mean."

Ellie doesn't hesitate to pull her sleeve up and reveal the bite. While Henry inspects it, Harry takes a closer look out of curiosity. It's hard to believe this bite mark is what has led to the creation of a cure that, for all intents and purposes, works.

Joel has already seen the wound in the past and doesn't feel inclined to stare, while Sam takes a quick look with a clinical, almost assessing stare before turning away, having seen enough.

"Are you sure the scanners won't be safe?" Henry finally asks, turning Ellie's arm to see the bite from all angles.

Ellie nods gravely. "I wouldn't have told you about this if I wasn't."

Henry sighs, staring fixedly at Elloe's forearm. "This means we can't stop at most settlements to resupply, or get some jobs in exchange for ammo or medecine. We'll have to hunt animals for food and scavenge for supplies. We're... cut off from most places that could help us."

Harry decides to interfere. "I would think it's a small price to pay for Sam's life. The cure isn't perfect."

Henry snorts. "Guess not. I just didn't expect scanners turning red to be a negative side-effect of your magic tea."

"I could wait outside," Sam proposes, "and you could go inside the community to work and gather supplies."

Shaking his head, Henry waves dismissively. "That would mean you and Ellie would be waiting outside, with probably one of us as protection, for how many weeks it would take me to do enough grunt work to pay for ammo and clothes. You'd have to be far away to avoid being seen by sentries, and I wouldn't be able to see you until I'm done without making whoever's guarding the settlement curious. You'd be shot on sight if you don't submit to scanning or a search."

"And most settlements ain't friendly," adds Joel. "In many cases you'll get something like Pittsburgh, or even worse, the people will pretend to allow you in and kill you as soon as you sleep to steal your things. If we do go somewhere for supplies, then it should be because we have no other choice. We can't risk being killed when we're carrying something as valuable as a cure."

Sam shrugs. "Then I presume we'll be seeing your brother in Wyoming, then?"

Joel nods. "For now. If we go to him, we'll be sure to at least have shelter, food and protection. It's less risky than accepting help from strangers. As soon as Tommy hears what we have, he'll do everything in his power to help."

"How far away is Wyoming?" asks Harry.

His only knowledge of geography comes from what he was taught up until his eleventh birthday, and while he's able to name most of the world's countries and place them on a map, he knows very little about the US and where specific states are.

"By car it would take a day and a half of driving without stopping," says Joel. "But if we assume we'll go the whole way on foot, that we need eight hours of sleep every night and at least a third of the day to scavenge or hunt animals for food... then with the time left and if we walk in a straigh' line..." He calcultes in his head for a few seconds. "It would take us a little less than two months to get there."

Harry winces at the number.

"... Are you sure it's best to head there?" asks Sam. "Being constantly on the move for such a long time would be... difficult."

Weary, Joel rubbed his temple with one hand. "Since you know Ellie is immune to Cordyceps, I might as well tell you that the Fireflies hired me to bring her to their facility so they can invent a cure by finding what gave her a natural immunity."

"Her immunity is natural?" asks Henry, eyebrows high. "I thought Harry cured her with that tea of his."

"It's not tea."

Joel ignores Harry's words in favour of answering Henry: "She wasn't cured. She just never turned. But now that we have a cure there are few people we can trust with this information and my brother's one of them. He'll give us food and shelter and we can trust that with him we won't be treated like we were in the city."

"Damn hunters."

"Exactly. Those kinda people are everywhere in the country."

Ellie clears her throat. Everyone turns to her.

"So... Wyoming?"

Henry sighs. "That's the plan. Though I'm warnin' you all that if we find a better solution on the way then we should take it. He shakes his head, incredulous. "Fucking Wyoming. Why the hell does it have to be so far...?" he mutters under his breath.

Joel claps his hands loudly and straightens. "Time to go then. If we talk any longer I might die of old age."

Ellie snorts. "You're already most of the way there, old man."

He ruffles her hair in response, using enough strength to make her knees buckle. She squawks in outrage.

"Don't call me old man, little girl."

"Don't call me little girl, fossil."

"Ouch. Your words hurt me, right here." He motions at his heart.

"I'm becoming a real heartbreaker all right."

Joel snorts at that one.

"... It's still early," says Harry, hesitant to interrupt Ellie and Joel. "Let's walk until midday and then take a break to eat. Does that sound right?"

Henry nods. "Sure. Do we know the right direction? I can't tell what road to take."

"Lemme take care of that," says Joel. "I know this country like the back of my hand. I'll get us walking on the straightest line possible to Wyoming."

"Let's go."

-x-x-x-

Henry is the one who gets the idea — if Harry knows a spell that can repair things, why not use it on a mode of transportation? It wouldn't work on a car or motorcycle, of course, since a simple Reparo would not magically create gas or recharge an automobile's batteries. However, it could work on smaller vehicles, such as bicycles or roller-boards.

They explore the surrounding houses in the suburbs, getting further and further away from the city, and in between fighting off small groups of Infected, they find what they're looking for — four large cross-country bikes and an adult scooter.

Most of them are rusted or broken beyond repair. The only exception is the scooter, which still works, though it creaks awfully and looks like it needs to be oiled.

Harry sits with the vehicles for over half an hour, chanting Reparo again and again and again. He's still bloody awful at wandless magic, and while it takes quite a few tries, he manages to succeed given enough time.

Everyone watches him work with fascinated gazes. Sam seems the most interested, staring at Harry with a quiet kind of intensity that makes Harry uncomfortable. It is reminiscent of his time at Hogwarts, when people would gawk at the famous 'Boy-Who-Lived'.

It takes around forty minutes for the vehicles to be back in pristine condition, and it's worth the effort if only because of the looks the others are giving him. The sheer incredulity in their gazes makes Harry want to laugh.

"So," he asks when they are done marvelling at the repaired bikes (and scooter). "How long would it take to get to Wyoming now?"

Joel has a growing smirk on his face as he gazes at the vehicles in satisfaction. "With these? We could get to Wyoming within the week."

"And we won't arrive there in fuckin' Fall," grumbles Ellie.

"Jesus, Harry," says Henry, petting a bike as though it were alive. "Where have you been all my life? I can think of so many times when this sort of thing would've been hella useful. Do you have any idea how many ration cards you could make just with your fixing ability?"

"I'd prefer the exploding trick, personally," adds Ellie. "That thing where you can just blow up enemies? Genius."

Harry rolls his eyes. "And here I thought you guys like me for my personality."

"Mostly for your bullshit magic," Henry admits shamelessly, "but the personality is a welcome bonus."

Joel clears his throat. "Ladies, I love you all equally. Now if you could pick a bike? I'd like to leave Pittsburgh some time this century."

Joel, Harry and Henry all get their hands on a bike, and there is a short argument between Sam and Ellie over who gets the remaining bicycle. No one wants the scooter.

"It's undignified!" Sam protests, trying to wrestle the bike from Ellie's grip.

"I'm a girl!" she retorts. "Haven't you been taught to be nice to girls?"

"I was wounded not that long ago! Haven't you been taught to be nice to the injured?"

"My blood is one of the reasons you didn't turn! So I get the bike!"

"SHUT UP!" Joel roars. "We'll all take turns riding that damn scooter. It's big enough to allow anyone to ride on it. Ellie, you'll go first."

"But—"

"No 'buts'!"

Ellie stomps over to the scooter with a glower, and frowns when she sees the smug look on Sam's face. As soon as Joel's back is turned, she sticks her tongue out at the boy. She then snickers when she sees his look of affrontement.

Henry shakes his head with a sigh. "Kids."

.

END ARC THREE - SUBURBS

.

A/N: I have never been to the United States, so all information about how long it would take from Pittsburgh to Wyoming comes from the internet.

I looked at the distance in kilometers, calculated how many hours in a day the group would have (by taking out the hours spent sleeping, eating, gathering food, taking care of hygiene, and fighting eventual foes they might meet) and rounded the numbers.

Some sources said that driving from Pittsburgh to Wyoming would take under 6 hours, while other said it would take 24 hours. Looking up how long it would take to walk such a distance gave me no results, so I had to get creative.

I have no idea how flat the terrain is, so if the area has mountains or huge obstacles then my numbers are probably way off. If anyone knows more I'd love to receive advice.

I aim to post the next chapter before January, but if we reach the 100 reviews mark, then I'll work extra hard and post the chapter at the end of this month. So please help me reach this milestone!