Anything you recognize belongs to JKR. All hail the queen.

They always knew they were outnumbered by the muggles. It was the reason for the Statute of Secrecy. One magical person for every four thousand muggles. At least, that's the statistic that was given in her muggle studies class. At the time, Hermione had really had no frame of reference for just how many muggles that was. She didn't comprehend just how outnumbered they were. Not until the muggles succumbed to the virus.

The Statute was gone now. No reason to keep themselves hidden when there was no one left to see. It was everywhere. At least, that's what the news was saying before the last of the muggles fell. Reports were coming in all over the world of people attacking each other in the streets. The first scientists were attributing it to a virus, but then they were infected, too. Unlike the viruses in popular science fiction, this disease had spread through airborne particles as well as bites. No one had been safe. No cure had been found. A few magical folk were investigating here and there, but it didn't look good. Truthfully, most didn't know much about muggle scientific techniques and the inherent magic in their bodies made it difficult to work with electricity, and potions didn't work on non-magical people.

The virus didn't affect those of magical blood. Not through inhalation, not through saliva or blood. No one knew why. Witches and wizards simply didn't become zombies. Not like them. Their bites were, however, resistant to magical healing. Magic and zombie, it seemed, just didn't mix.

There were so many.Being magical didn't give much advantage when the enemy was faster, stronger, and hungrier. Fire didn't stop them, merely, well, set them on fire. Slicing and blasting hexes slowed them down. Only a direct hit to the brain stem killed them, just like the movies Hermione had grown up watching on Halloween when her parents had let her stay up late. At least they didn't have to worry about running out of ammunition like in the movies.

Hermione had joined forces with Severus's little band of survivors three days into the change. The man wasn't picky with who joined the group, just as long as they didn't drag the rest of them down. It was they who had led the raid on Azkaban a month after the world had gone to hell. Most of the prisoners of Azkaban were trained killers. In those times, it was valuable and needed experience. They had been counting on them being hungry enough for as much muggle blood as they could spill that they would overlook the fact that it was Severus who had put them into the prison. They were correct. While most hadn't stuck around with the group, they were just glad to have more capable people out fighting the fight.

Lucius Malfoy was among the few who had chosen to stay with them. Narcissa hadn't survived the first wave of zombie infections. None of them knew where Draco was, or if he was still alive. She'd been surprised the first time he tried to hold a conversation with her.

"Can we really not get better food than this shite?" he asked, falling onto the couch cushion beside her. He had a can of beans open in one hand. "We're magic, for fuck's sake."

She raised one brow at him. "Oh, am I really a magical person now?" she answered sarcastically. He'd cut his hair just below his ears. He almost looked like a different person without the cascades of hair falling around his shoulders.

"I don't see you shrieking and trying to eat my face off."

Fair enough. "I am perfectly content with my tin of, er, beef," she assured him, but looked dubiously at the can. It claimed to be beef. She wasn't sure she believed it.

"Surprising," he snorted, "as it looks like shit."

She looked at him sideways. "I didn't think you knew how to swear. Much too improper."

"Look around, Granger," he said, sweeping his can of beans grandly in front of him. "The world has gone to hell. Life is much too short to observe propriety. Besides, who is going to judge me? You?"

"Fuck no," she returned. She speared a chunk of supposed beef on her fork, eyeing it warily before taking a bite. She chewed thoughtfully. Not as bad as she expected. "Wizardry or no, cooking still takes time and energy. If you would like to cook dinner for us all after we've been out exploding heads all day, be my guest." It seemed like no matter how many they dropped, there were still a hundred more behind it, then another hundred behind each of those.

He barked a laugh. "No, thank you. I have never cooked a meal in my life. I'd likely poison us all." He tipped his can up, pouring directly into his mouth. He watched the witch beside him while he chewed the unfortunately tasteless mouthful. She had definitely grown into herself while he'd been in prison. She was steady and self-assured. He supposed an apocalypse could do that to a person. "What about the house elves?"

"What about them?" she asked, quirking a brow.

"Are they still around?"

She shrugged. "I've no idea, honestly."

"Mitsy," Lucius called into thin air. "Alfie, Smudge?" Nothing happened for a long minute and he shrugged too. "I guess they're gone." A small pop sounded, and a bedraggled little elf appeared in the sitting room. "Smudge!"

"Holy shit," Hermione muttered beside him.

The elf's large eyes widened. "Master Lucius! You was in prisons, sir."

"I was, but I am not any longer." He eyed the elf. "Are you the only elf left at the manor?"

Smudge hung his head. "We is having to abandon the manor, sir. Too many munchies for the elves to fight there."

Lucius blinked blankly at the elf. "Munchies?"

He nodded emphatically. "Yes, Master Lucius, munchies. The dead ones that is eating the living."

Hermione laughed. "He isn't wrong."

Lucius ignored her. "Smudge, I want you to gather everyone that is left and bring them here. You'll be safe here."

Smudge's eyes widened further, and he nodded again, his large ears flapping around his head, before popping out of sight.

"There," Lucius said smugly, "now we'll have a cook."

She was well beyond the point of arguing elf rights. In all honesty, she was just looking forward to finding out what the elves would be able to do in the kitchen. And Lucius was right – they would be safe there.

Grimmauld Place had turned out to be a wonderful hideout for their merry band. There was no shortage of rooms available for their growing number. While it was possible that one day they may grow too large to fit into the aging townhome, there was an empty one on either side of them. It would be a simple matter to knock down a wall or two and build a connection. Being in the heart of London wouldn't have been ideal, if not for the magical barrier in place around their home. The zombies – mugbies is what Rowle called them, being that they were muggle zombies, and the name was starting to catch on – were unable to come closer than a quarter kilometer in any direction of the house. It was, however, convenient for knocking down the population, which was Severus's main goal, and for recovery missions. Their band had to eat.

The chickens helped – fresh eggs were always a morale booster. The look on the faces of new band members when they found out that they kept a small farm on the roof was always worth a laugh. There were enough of them now that they didn't even have a work schedule for upkeep. It was their food source and they were each happy to wander up to check on everything a few times a week. Their little flock was growing large enough now that they could even butcher one or two every so often for a real treat. God, did those house elves know how to roast a chicken.

When Severus's first priority after the change was a raid of a farm and feed store just outside of London, his handful of followers had looked at him like he was nuts. Chicks had been his priority with the world falling to pieces around them. It turned out there was a damn good reason that he was their leader. The man had known what he was doing, and they were grateful for that now. They had standing orders to bring back any farm animals they might happen to encounter anywhere. Of any kind. If they didn't need them, it was at least fresh meat. It was surprising how many goats they had found in London. They had a small herd of those, too. She had been frustrated time and again by trying to keep the damn things out of the vegetable patches.

Hermione had been the one to make the first move. It had been a long damn time since she'd gotten any, and she'd been scoping out her prospects for months. Thorfinn Rowle was a solid enough man, but she doubted he'd be a very considerate fuck. There was Severus, of course, but she had no desire to distract him from his purpose of keeping them all alive. Anyway, she suspected that he may be sneaking around with Helena. No reason to keep a secret, she thought. It wasn't as though societal standards were what they once were. George was a bit too… goofy. Even after the death of his brother, he was still a Weasley twin. She would have had a hard time taking him seriously. Ben was nice to look at, but maybe a bit too emotional for her taste. She was only looking for sex. Eventually she had settled on Lucius as her target. He had a pretty face, a good body – they all did these days – and he was surprisingly bearable now that he had an outlet for every little bit of aggression.

Hermione walked up the stairs with Lucius after dinner, as she did most nights. His room was on the second landing, while hers was on the third. She'd been making an effort to get close to the man, get him comfortable with her presence. He didn't seem to mind it, and always kept up steady stream of conversation. Tonight was the night, she had decided.

Rather than leaving him at his door, as she usually did, instead she pushed past him into his bedroom. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he entered behind her and closed the door. He flicked his wand at the wood, locking and silencing it. Lucius Malfoy was no idiot.

She smiled at him. "A bit presumptuous, Malfoy."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, feigning ignorance. "Was there some other reason you barged into my bedroom so late in the evening?"

"I thought we might have an… intimate chat," she answered coyly, moving backwards toward the bed. She perched on the edge and leaned back, crossing her legs.

"By all means," he agreed. His hands went to the hem of his muggle t-shirt. They had all found them to be much more practical for life as it was now. He pulled the garment over his head and smirked at her open staring. "I hope you don't mind if I get just a bit more comfortable. It is nearly time for bed, after all."

"Not at all. Don't let me stop you." Jesus, the man was fit. They did spend most of their days running all over the city or working the rooftop, but Merlin. She was nearly drooling just looking at him. She very much wanted to touch him.

He dropped his shirt onto the floor and moved toward her. He stopped just in front of her knees and reached out for her hand. She took it with a smirk. He pulled her to her feet, yanking her against his chest. Her hands went flat against him, and she whimpered softly. One of his large hands wrapped around the back of her neck. When she looked up into his face, he was waiting for her. His lips were warm. One of her hands moved around his back, sliding over his skin. She felt his hiss against her lips, and she smiled.

It didn't take long before his hands began to roam. It was like an electric shock when his fingertips slid beneath her shirt to caress her skin. Merlin, it had been an age since she had been touched in any way but to receive medical attention. She moaned into his mouth at the contact. Her sounds of encouragement seemed to spur him onward. He clutched the hem of her shirt and pulled it upward. They had to move apart for him to slide the shirt over her head, and they stood apart from each other for a moment, staring at the other's exposed skin.

Without warning, the man swooped and lifted her over his shoulder. She squealed and clutched at his back, laughing. He climbed onto the bed on his knees, then slung her down onto it on her back. She bounced once and then he was back on her, his body hovering over her. She could only just feel his weight, and it was a delicious sensation. She grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him back down for another searing kiss. He refused to stay focused on her lips for long, his mouth moving across the side of her jaw and down her neck. His tongue laved at the hollow below her clavicle, and she squirmed beneath him, whimpering.

"My," he chuckled, "so eager."

"Please," she begged, "it's been so long. Please just fuck me."

His jaw clenched, and she worried for a moment that she had said the wrong thing. Then he was pulling her up to get at the clasp of her bra. He ripped it from her frame and grabbed her breasts in his hands roughly. She gasped in surprise when he twisted her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, the gasp quickly turning into a deep moan of pleasure. When his hands left her breasts, she reached for the clasp of his jeans – which Severus insisted they all wear for safety. Some of the purebloods had protested, but when he'd rolled his eyes at them and invited them to try to bite through jeans, they had changed their tune quickly. As soon as he was divested of the garment, her eyes sprang to the tent in his briefs. He did not miss the way she licked her lips at the sight of him. He took his turn removing her pants, giving her underwear only a passing glance before removing it, too.

"Please," she murmured again, eyes glittering in anticipation.

Lucius removed his briefs slowly, allowing his erection to spring free and enjoying the hungry look in her eyes at its appearance. She spread her legs eagerly and he settled between them, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer to him. The head of his cock grazed against her entrance, and she threw her head back, panting. Gods, she was so wet. He slid completely into her with a groan, feeling just how tight and slick she was.

He was not going to last long this time. She wasn't the only one who hadn't had a good fuck in ages. His hand kept him satiated, but far from satisfied. "If you want to come," he growled, "you had better do what you need to do. Quickly."

She quickly followed his instruction and the sight of her doing so nearly ended things then and there. He ground his teeth and concentrated on holding back from pounding her into the mattress. He could feel the slight quivering of her walls as she came closer to completion and he moved slower, pulling himself out further and sliding himself in deeper with every stroke.

"Fuck," she swore as she tipped over the precipice. Her series of moans and cries pushed him over, too, and he spilled himself into her with a deep groan.

Panting, he rested his forehead against her shoulder. "Jesus, Granger, warn a guy next time."

She laughed and pushed at his head. "You wanted it as much as I did."

He shrugged and pulled out of her with a wince. "You're not wrong." He summoned his wand wordlessly and performed the contraceptive spell over her abdomen.

"Thanks," she murmured. She summoned her own wand and cleaned herself up a bit, then rolled off the bed to dress.

Lucius lounged naked on his bed, watching her. "If you'd like to go again sometime, let me know. I'm always good for a lay."

Hermione snorted. "I'm aware. Why do you think I chose you in the first place?" She quirked one brow at him and left him staring at his closed door after her.

One fuck turned into two, which turned into a handful, which in turn led to them being walked in on in the library and being reprimanded by their fearless leader. Keep it in the bedroom, he had snarled at them. So they did. Repeatedly. After their seventeenth such encounter, they had fallen asleep in his bed together. He had woken to find himself wrapped around and intertwined with her body. After a thoroughly rousing round of morning sex, they had accepted the fact that they would have to have the conversation. It turned out even the end of the world didn't ease the awkwardness of an accidental relationship.

"Granger, what are we? Fuck buddies don't sleep together." At her snort, he clarified, "Fuck buddies don't spend the night together."

She rolled, pressing her still-bare breasts against his chest as she pulled herself on top of him. "People who are together don't call each other by their last names, Malfoy."

He moved his hands to grasp her arms, rubbing them gently. "Hermione," he sounded out slowly.

Her eyes snapped to his face. "Do you want to be together – Lucius?" She felt the shiver that ran through him when she said his name.

"This was supposed to be just sex," he rumbled.

"That was the initial agreement, yes."

He sighed, his hands tightening on her arms. "I want more," he admitted.

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Alright then. Does that mean I get to sleep over and have more morning sex?"

Lucius grinned. "I like morning sex."

"Me too," she agreed, laughing, as he rolled them over for a second round.

The resulting exuberance from their renewed status ended with another reprimand from Severus for having sex in the vegetable patch – where they had been very careful not to damage anything. Apparently, it was unsanitary. Severus clearly had decided that they needed more to occupy their time and had taken to sending them out every single day for reconnaissance and gathering.

It was George Weasley who had originally had the idea to get around with brooms, rather than hoofing it. If things got sticky, at least the mugbies couldn't jump higher than a meter or so off the ground. Hermione had wanted to argue, but she had been unable to find a leg to stand on. Even she knew it was a safer option. Apparition was no longer viable, as there was no way to know what awaited at the destination. So, she had learned to fly. After a few months of getting around by broom, she had wondered why she'd ever been so afraid. It had been on a kill mission that they'd found him. The goal of their mission that day was simple: kill as many mugbies as possible. Severus was concerned by the growing number of them wandering into the city in search of fresh food and wanted their numbers thinned down.

The four of them fanned out over a large group of them below and began to hurl spells down at them. It wouldn't work forever, of course. From this height, accuracy was difficult. After they thinned the crowd, they would have to land and finish off the rest on foot. The mugbies didn't have much brain function left, but even they knew to look up when they couldn't find the source of the chaos around them. They screeched and reached into the air. Some tried to jump at them, while others tried to climb on their comrades. One managed to pull itself halfway up the side of a building toward Ben. He pulled his broom higher to get away from the creature and aimed his wand at its head, sending it crashing down into the mass of bodies below.

Hermione caught a glimpse of the one on the roof out of the corner of her eye and called out a warning to Ben, but it came too late. The mugbie threw himself down at the wizard on the broom, sending them careening downward. Ben screamed and desperately tried to get control of the broom, but the creature had a hold of the end and was waving its arms and legs wildly, spinning them out of control. Her breath caught in her throat when the broom went down into the writhing mass of mugbies. Ben's screaming was barely audible over the roars of the zombies vying for a piece of him, but they all heard when it abruptly stopped.

The three of them who were left exchanged glances, edging nervously away from the buildings toward the center of the square. Hermione locked eyes with Lucius, urging him to be careful. She'd caught feelings and she'd be damned if she would let him kill himself now. Samantha seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack, staring down at the writhing corpses feasting on what had previously been their bandmate. Hermione gestured to them to rise higher, but she caught movement in one of the buildings and stopped. She nearly fell off her broom in shock at the platinum blond head looking out from a fourth floor window. Draco Malfoy grinned at the sight of them and took off running from the window. Her head whipped toward Lucius, but she knew that he had already seen. He was speeding toward the roof of the building inhabited by his son.

She indicated for Samantha to follow and directed her broom after him. There was only a single mugbie on the roof, which Lucius quickly dispatched with a well-placed blasting hex. The rooftop door was flung open, banging loudly against the metal entry. Hermione winced at the sound. If the hoard of mugbies below hadn't known where they went before, they certainly did now. Draco stood in the doorway staring at their little group.

"Draco," called Lucius. It seemed to snap the man out of his trance, and he lurched forward, embracing his father tightly. Over Draco's shoulder, Hermione smiled at her lover and pretended not to see the tears in his eyes.

They had, of course, brought him back with them. It was standard procedure to bring a spare broom shrunk in each of their pockets in case they ran into strays. There had been a lot of explaining to do, both to him, then to the band when they got back to the house. Ben had been well-liked, and he would be missed. Hermione was secretly relieved that she'd not chosen Ben to be a fuck buddy, as she would probably be mourning him much more now than she was.

Draco had been searching for food in the building they'd happened upon. He had spent most of the apocalypse alone. He had paired up with Rabastan Lestrange for a while, he'd said, but the man was still just as insane and bloodthirsty as he'd ever been and Draco had decided that he was too much of a liability. "Kept mentioning using some poor sucker as bait, and I just knew if I stuck around it'd end up being me," Draco had told them. The man had looked beyond relieved to be with a group that was at least mostly mentally there. Particularly one that contained what was left of his family.

"Unfortunately," Severus said to his godson, "Henry took the last available room last week. We are working on the connection to the next house over, but until it's finished you'll have to find a roommate."

Draco looked to his father across the dining room table. The house elves had made a nice sandwich platter for them and Draco had already devoured three. "I'm sure my dear father will let me bunk with him."

Lucius smirked. "I already have a roommate, Draco. She does, ah, rather more for me than you can."

Malfoy Junior looked surprised, but a slow smile spread over his face. "I see. And who is she?" he asked, looking up and down the table.

Hermione took a bite of her sandwich and chewed slowly as she raised one hand in the air. Severus glared at her. "What?" she demanded through a mouthful. "It's hardly a secret."

There were guffaws from the others at the table. "Not since the library," George provided.

"Or the garden," supplied Helena.

Rowle snorted. "I'm in the room next to them. Imagine how I feel when they forget silencing spells."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Really, father, you chose the mud-"

There were shouts of protest around the kitchen.

"There is no such thing as a mudblood," Lucius said firmly. That particular prejudice had died with the rest of the world. "There are only two statuses now, son. People and the ones trying to kill us and eat us. There is no in between. Anyone not trying to kill us all is just fine by me."

The young man looked from his father's serious face to those of the band members to Hermione herself, still calmly eating her sandwich, and nodded. "Right then, who wants to put me up for a bit?"

Draco ended up rooming with the newest recruit, Henry until the bridgeway was completed a few weeks later. Thank Merlin Lucius had declined to room with him. Hermione didn't think she could go that long anymore without getting any.

A/N: This was originally written to be a one-shot. There may or may not be more, so if you've enjoyed and want more, I recommend hitting that lovely little follow button even though it's marked as complete.