Harry Potter and the Berserker

Chapter 17

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

They weren't followed, not with Harry holding his sword to Charlotte's neck. Slowly, they had made their way back to Windham Castle presumably to where they snuck in, to begin with. A secret tunnel in an art gallery provided them with their means of an exit to the graveyard beyond.

He felt useless as Pippin carried him the entire distance. All of them had risked their lives to try and save his, or what was left of it. It was a terrible truth for him to admit to himself, but he could do nothing. He could just stay still and be cradled in Pippin's arms and watch the rescue party that had come to his aid.

There was Casca, no surprise there. She had always been one of his top commanders and felt deeply indebted to him for saving her life those years back. Of course, she would be the one leading this mission, she was probably hoping that she wouldn't have to play at being the leader anymore. As capable as he knew her to be, she never desired power for herself, just to help him and remain by his side. And as his blue eyes took her in he felt there was something different about her, but he could not put a finger to it.

Then there was Pippin and Judeau. Pippin had the brawn where Judeau had the stealth. Both would be handy if a brawl erupted or a lock needed picking.

Never would have expected to see the princess or a handmaiden-who was probably just dragged along into all of this. That night he had shared with Charlotte, she seemed to have taken it deep within her heart, so much so she was now willing to give up a pampered lifestyle of a princess to aid them. She was even allowing herself to be taken, hostage.

Harry, the one holding her hostage, had grown in the near year of his imprisonment. He-like Rickert was tall for his age, and within a year or two he might not have to look up to meet Casca's eyes. Aside from his physical growth, he seemed to have matured in his mentality as well. Of course, his holding Charlotte at sword point was an act. There was no way that Harry would have actually harmed the naïve girl, which she seemed to know, unlike her handmaiden.

"What were you thinking, you young ruffian!" The handmaiden-whose name he believed to be Anna, berated Harry once they were out of the graveyard and heading to where the horses were hidden.

"Holding the princess captive after she aided you, how dishon-!"

"It is alright, Anna," Charlotte attempted to assure her servant. "I volunteered to be taken, remember?"

Anna took a second to compose herself. "Be that as it may, you could have gotten hurt." Harry had the decency to look remorseful.

"I am sorry about that, Charlotte."

"Princess Charlotte," Anna corrected.

"Yeah, that. I could have given a better warning than just, 'play along.'"

Casca mounted her house and offered a hand for Charlotte to climb on back. "It doesn't matter," she said. "Lord Griffith is safe, that is what matters."

Strange. With the bout of courage she went through to assist in his rescue, she still held traces of her naivety. Could she not see his body? All the scars and missing nails, were they just paper cuts in her eyes? Or perhaps, was the love she felt for him blinding? Being the only one to have made love to her, had her love for him been so strong that she simply does not care about his appearance?

More likely she just believes that love can heal him, heal everything that had been done and that when he was whole again that they would one day wed one another. If that was true, and he had a suspicion it was, she was living in a dream. And he of all people knew how dangerous that could be.