Harry Potter and the Berserker

Chapter 37

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

The old woman sitting in front of Guts looked nothing like how he would expect a witch to look. Her apprentice – Schierke, looked the part more than she did; the younger girl dressed in purple robes and her outfit came complete with a wide-brimmed pointed purple hat, all she was missing was a broom and she would have looked like children's stories of how a genuine witch would look. This woman – Flora, looked and dressed just like any other elderly woman Guts could find in Windham or outlying village. A blouse, long shirt, and bonnet were hardly what anyone who dreamed of witches would have considered an appropriate attire. The more Guts studied the woman, the more he noticed the dead giveaway was in her eyes.

Those eyes of hers were filled with a curious intelligence that exceeded her time on this earth. There was an odd sort of twinkle that shone as well, making Guts feel like she knew everything about him already; like she could look inside of him to further evaluate his self-worth. It was off-putting, but her almost grandmotherly smile helped to put that anxiety away. Harry had spent the better part of two years studying under this woman, and if he trusted her apprentice enough to let her into his head, that had to say something about this woman's character.

"How may I be of assistance?" asked Flora, her almost twinkling eyes passed over each of them, seemingly looking into all of them to gain a better understanding.

"So you're the witch then," Guts didn't bother phrasing it as a question.

"Did Harry not tell you about me?" Flora asked in a teasing tone.

"He told me some," Guts answered. "And with your apprentice over there watching our travels, I would think that you would know why we came here."

"Schierke has told me much, that is true," Flora gave a gentle nod of her head. "You seek to cure this young woman of the damage inflicted upon her mind." Her gaze drifted over to Casca, who was curiously eyeing all the decorations across the room. "And along the way you've managed to secure a few more traveling companions. Isidro, a young boy from a mountain village who seeks to become a legendary swordsman."

Isidro had begun to revert out of his transfigured monkey-state and back to normal but still had a tail protruding from the base of his spine. Puck sat on top of his head. "Your legend has already begun, my pupil."

Flora looked to the two blondes. "Farnese de Vandimion and her attendant, Serpico. Once members of the Holy Iron Chain Knights, this young woman seeks a truth beyond what she was taught, and he follows her faithfully."

Farnese avoided the old woman's gaze, looking ashamed almost. "You... are a true witch then?"

"You feel guilty." Flora did not say it as a question, and her tone had shifted to a more understanding one. "During your tenure with the Holy See, you participated in a number of witch burnings." Farnese's silence was more than enough of an answer. "You wish to atone for your prior actions?"

"Those people who I burned... I thought I was doing good, doing good by God..."

"You did what was expected of you, what you were told. Perhaps you enjoyed watching the fire consume, but you are not beyond redeeming yourself. When you live as long as I have, you realize that there have been far worse done by far worse people."

Farnese looked quite surprised, to say the least. "T-then you are not angry with me? I thought for sure that..."

"You might have enjoyed watching those flames, they might have ignited a passion inside of you, but even now those internal fires burn away at what you once perceived as truth; your mind, Lady Farnese, is as open to change as anyone as young as yourself. If you continue to dwell on the past and all the wrongs that could have been avoided, you'll become old before your time." The old witch said that without as much as a twinge of displeasure.