Flurry [Ben Parish]

Harry Potter and the Idiot

Things run as usual for another three months or so. Wake up, inspection, three laps around the yard, breakfast, training, lunch, training, dinner, Q&A, free time, lights out, repeat.

Before Zombie joined we had an odd number and I was always the one who took the one man jobs, trained with punching bags, those sort of things. Flintstone has Tank to bitch and snicker with, Oompa and Teacup are around the same age (and he's the only one that can work with the spitfire of a girl without wanting to rip her head off), and Poundcake doesn't talk whereas Dumbo never shuts up, so they're a good match. I didn't mind working alone, it gave me some time to myself, which is quite necessary when you spend literally every hour of the day with the same group of people. All this to say that by circumstance alone, Zombie had become my unofficial partner in pretty much everything.

It makes sense, really. We're around the same age and capability, though I'm almost positive that when he fully recovers from what the plague did to him he'll surpass me. It was an easy connection, the kind of friendship that you just fall into with no awkward 'get-to-know-you' phase ("what's your favorite color?", "how was your day?", "do you like Taylor Swift, personally I'm not a fan of her earlier work?", you know what I'm talking about). Zombie's a sarcastic little shit, but a good soldier. He knows when I'm up to talk and banter and he knows when to stay silent, which I can appreciate, and he's effortlessly funny. We spar in hand to hand, stand next to each other on the shooting range, help each other on the obstacle course, etc.

Currently, it's washing dishes while Squad 53 is on kitchen duty. We had established a system during his first week, I wash and he dries, and stuck to it. I don't hate kitchen duty, it's better than P&D and it's the nice kind of monotony that gives you time to unwind.

"Did you have a restaurant job before all this?" Zombie asks.

"What?" It takes me a second to process his words, and he almost repeats himself but I answer before he can. "No."

"You're just good at this, efficient."

"I'm good at a lot of things."

"I've noticed."

I roll my eyes and splash some water on him for being cheeky. The truth is, I practically raised two little girls, which included a lot of dishes to be done, but I can't say that. So I go for a different truth. "I worked at a roller rink, before."

Before. The word holds so much weight now. Before the Arrival, before the Others, before Camp Haven. Before Snowflake.

Zombie stares at me for a second so I go back turn my attention back to the dishes. "You- you worked at a roller rink?"

"That's what I just said, yes." It's quiet for a minute, maybe two, just the sound of the running water and him stacking trays.

"I didn't have a job, wanted one for the summer though." I don't doubt it. I didn't peg Zombie as having the kind of family that needed the extra help, and tell him as such. "So you think you've got me all figured out then?"