Harry Potter and the Berserker

Chapter 3

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

A faint ghost of a smile moved across Griffith's pale face. "Very well. The first choice I offer you is this; since you are clearly away from your home I'd be able to spare you a horse so that you may travel back to where you are from."

"I... don't know how to ride," Harry confessed. The Dursley's had gone horseback riding one time over the summer, but they had left him with Ms. Figg and her litter of cats. He had seen the pictures later on and it looked like the pony Dudley had been riding could hardly support his weight. The same could even be said for his uncle.

Griffith looked as if he had been expecting that response. "Not everyone does. But, that does lead to your second choice. To have a few riders take you back to your village."

"My ho-," Harry paused and corrected himself, "-village, it-it isn't around anymore."

Casca blinked in recognition. "Your an orphan of war, aren't you?"

"My parents died in an accident when I was a baby," Harry told her, recalling the story Aunt Petunia had told him when he had once asked where his parents were. "I had to live with my aunt and uncle after. And after... some things happened, I ended up here." It wasn't a lie, not really. His parents had died in an accident, he had lived with his relatives, and he could not go back to where they were now.

"Hm. I see." Griffith contemplated Harry's words. "Then that leaves you with the third option, doesn't it?" Strangely enough, both Casca and Guts seemed a bit curious as to what Griffith was going to offer next."

"Griffith," Casca said. "You aren't actually going to offer him-,"

"A chance to travel with us back to the capital." Griffith settled on. Casca visibly relaxed and seemed satisfied with the option, and Guts remained stoic and impassive. "We ride out at first light tomorrow. And seeing as how you can't ride on your own, you'd have to either ride in a wagon or with one of our men."

It certainly seemed the best choice out of all of them, but there was the question of, "What would I do in the capital?" Harry asked. He doubted that it would be anything like London, not that he had ever been, but still.

"Since you've said you don't have a family, you'd probably end up in an orphanage," Guts bluntly stated. Harry inwardly cringed. Uncle Vernon's sister, Aunt Marge, would always say that if he had ended up on her doorstep she would have sent him to an orphanage. And if that was the worst thing Aunt Marge could think up then it couldn't be good news.

"That, or try and become an apprentice," Casca offered. "There are smith's there that could use an extra pair of hands."

"Couldn't have said it better," Griffith smiled to the both of them. "They may not be much, but those are your choices."

It didn't even really feel like a choice at the moment. The third one was his best bet seeing as he had nothing else, but then what? Become another face in an orphanage? Or maybe a child of the street seeking to survive by any means? Being an apprentice could be alright. At least that way there would be someone to look out for him.

"I... guess I have to pick the last one." Griffith nodded.

"I understand. I can't guarantee you that it will be ideal, but it will be better than surviving out here I wager." Griffith turned to Casca. "Would you be willing to offer our guest a spot in your tent? He'll need an extra bedroll of course."

Casca seemed hesitant."...Of course, Griffith. Follow me then." She turned him back to the way he had entered and led him back out. Guts watched her depart and turned to Griffith.