Work Text:
It had been a hard lesson to learn, but he’d learned it and learned it well.
Once the initial relief over the end of the war had been over and Harry had made things right with the Goblins he’d started organising. He’d spread his purchase out so people didn’t realise how…. Not right… he was. It made him feel better, having his plans.
He’d taken inspiration from Hermione of course. Then he’d discovered doomsday prepping and with magic he made what they did look like amateur hour. He’d thought he was insane but he hadn’t stopped. Medicine, food, drinks, clothes. Once the immediate essentials were taken care of he thought about what he wished he’d on had that long year on the run. He’d hit the muggle camping community. Sleeping bags, roll mats, stoves… after all it might not be safe to use magic.
Thinking of not being able to use magic sent him hunting through his vaults, then knock turn alley. He bought every wand he could find.
Then he got thinking about how he would survive once his supplies had ran out. He started adding seeds, gardening equipment, animals.
He really did think he was crazy. But having his plan B, his utility belt full of miniature trunks filled to the brim with essentials made him able to live normally. He knew it was a coping mechanism but it wasn’t hurting anyone and so he continued.
He worked out how to make the communication mirrors. He chased up every whisper of technomancy he came across and eventually he had several sets of short range walkie talkies charmed to work without batteries.
For 10 years he added to his supplies. After the initial spending spree it trickled to just a few things a month, every time he felt a bit antsy, or he heard rumours of a new dark lord, or a free death eater was sighted.
And then a new rumour. Inferi.
Harry mentioned to his friends that they might want to think about getting a go bag organised but he was shrugged off.
The rumours became confirmed, if downplayed, stories.
Harry spoke to Hermione. She listened, nodded then suggested he saw a mind healer.
He bought out an entire warehouse. Then another. And another.
He was walking down Diagon Alley about 2 weeks later, stocking up on potions and buying a (third? Fourth? He’d honestly lost count) tent when he heard screaming. He ran towards the commotion.
It was worse then he’d feared.
The dead walked.