48 BCE, Scotland
: Harry Potter, Angel, and True Blood all belong to people who are not me...the title is also a Tacitus quote referring to the aftermath of Pict raids/attacks.
Once again, Harry awoke to the surreal awareness of lying on the ground, naked.
At first he thought Death had come back to claim him—that his second chance at life had only been a temporary, goal-oriented reprieve, and so, having killed Voldemort, he was returned to limbo.
Except he smelled the forest around him and could sense he was not alone; he heard shouts, soft footsteps, the howl of a dog...
His eyes opened to the sight of bodies, most tattooed and as naked as he was, strewn across the hills...with a sick feeling, he realized they were corpses...