Harry Potter and the Berserker

Chapter 2

Also Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Berserk is owned by Kentaro Miura. I own nothing.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to what felt like hours. And Harry still remained on his knees, looking down at the camp below. More fires had been lit, the laughing and cheering had enhanced to new heights, and the smell of what he thought to be alcohol drafted to where he remained. Harry's eyes were never really good to begin with, hence his large glasses, but if he squinted the outlines of a few men standing vigil on the perimeter would be visible to him.

The sensation of being in a new environment coupled with the knowledge that Privet Drive was long gone caused a whirlwind of motion to swirl around within his head. On one hand, there were no more Dursley's. They were not around to degrade him, to make him their whipping boy, no more confining him to a small cupboard every day. But the only place he had to live was gone as well. Living in the cupboard was horrid, sure, but it still held a small comfort to Harry. Out of everything in Privet Drive, the cupboard was the one place that had been his own.

And then there was-this place. Harry didn't even know what to call it yet. All he knew was that it made no sense. A skeleton knight, disembodied voices, all this talk of fate and destiny, and now a scene that looked like it was plucked from one of the stories of King Arthur and Camelot. The absolute one thing he knew for certain was that he was alone. "Heh," Harry let out a scratchy half laugh as his throat and eyes suddenly felt very hot. Alone. Maybe this wasn't all that different from Privet Drive.

Running a hand through his already messy black hair, Harry closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He took another. And another. He kept that up until he felt his eyes and throat begin to relax. There was no point in crying over this, was there? It wasn't really even up to him to begin with. It was that Skull Knight. Where had he gone off to anyways? Looking over his shoulder, Harry saw no trace that the mysterious figure had left behind, other than his rather cryptic message.

Sighing Harry hung his head low with disappointment. rrrroow. Harry's stomach rumbled. Not surprising, he hadn't eaten all day; not at all like Dudley who was back at Privet Drive, probably stuffing his face full of candy this very minute. Harry spared another glace down at the encampment. Would they give him food if he asked for it? The people down there had been drinking, that much was obvious. And if they had been drinking they might act like Uncle Vernon, and even sober the man was a pain to be around.

Should he-steal some?

No! What was he thinking? If they were friendly and he stole from them, then that would make him a thief, plain and simple. Besides, he's been hungrier than this before, no need to try and steal food. As if to disagree, his stomach rumbled again.

"Quiet," Harry said to his stomach. Another rumble. He sighed once more. As he waited for the rumbling to recede. "Alright," Harry relented. He didn't like it, but what other choice did he have? He didn't know how to hunt for food, and he didn't have the faintest idea what direction the nearest town was in. "But only a little food." He didn't need a lot, just a little. Once he had that he would come back up here. After that he would probably have to follow the camp back to a town. And maybe then he could find out more about where he was.

As silently as he could, Harry made his way down the hill and towards the camp perimeter. The lack of light proved to be bit of a curse as Harry found himself hugging the side of a tent to avoid two hidden sentries. Both of them were dressed in medieval armor, and half helms upon their heads and they carried pikes but had crossbows hanging from their backs. They seemed to be having a conversation with each other.

"Huh? Just what kind of question is that?" One asked.

"Just curious, is all. Now c'mon who do you think would win; our soldiers, or the Black Dog Knights?"