Harry Potter and the Berserker

Chapter 40

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

Vernon Dursley was having a good day – scratch that – he was having a great day! He didn't even know where to begin; it could be due to Dudley being accepted into the Boxing Finals for his school – Smeltings, or it could even be due to his recent promotion and subsequent raise at his drill company of Grunnings, because of that he would be able to put down a payment on the new model car he had been eying for quite some time now. Or it could be the smell of a fresh cooked meal prepared by his wife, Petunia. Ham with pineapple and a side of buttered rolls. Thank God, Petunia had quit that ridiculous practice of trying to get him and Dudley on a diet; that school nurse didn't know what she was talking about, Dudley was a perfectly healthy boy.

Indeed, there was no finer boy than Dudley, not one. He was the model every boy should strive to be; assertive, caring toward his mother, a prime athlete, and all around normal; perfectly Dursleyish.

Nothing at all like that freak nephew of Petunia's. That boys abnormality had been a black plague over the Dursley household, and despite getting paid a visit by some of those freaks those years ago, not one freakish thing had occurred since then. That boy pulling a Houdini was the single greatest freakish thing he had ever done. No longer would he be a financial burden on Vernon and his family. They gave that boy a roof over his head, gave him Dudley's old clothes and took him in when none of those freaks would. Vernon hardly though of the boy anymore, but when he did, he remembered how great their lives were now that he was out of the picture.

"How do you like it, Vernon?" Petunia asked. She had just delivered Dudley's plate up to his room for him to eat. A teenage boy needs his privacy after all.

"It's lovely, Petunia dear." His plate was practically already clean; she had outdone herself for this meal. "You should make it with that cake the next time the Mason's come over to follow up on that deal we had made."

"Oh, that wife of his is a gold-digger," Petunia wrinkled her nose like she had smelt something foul. "She was practically flaunting that bracelet that time we treated them to dinner. A complete air-head of a woman, not a thought in that shapely head of hers."

"I got that impression as well," Vernon agreed with his wife. "But Mr. Mason is a prominent business of the company, so we must stomach their tendencies when we have to."

"Oh, I know you're right, Vernon. I'm just on edge because I overheard the neighbors talking about me. I have no idea where she gets off saying the hedge under our window is in need of a trim. Her husband didn't cut their grass for a week over the summer. And her garden has weeds." A true disgrace if there ever was one on Privet Drive.

A knock sounded at the door. "Are we expecting company, Petunia?" Vernon asked. Everyone on Privet Drive knew what time they usually ate dinner, who would stop by now?

"Not that I'm aware of, Vernon."

He rose from his chair, waddling out of the kitchen and passing through the hall to the front door. "Yes?" Vernon asked as he opened the door. "What is we can do for-?" his jaw hung slack as he took in the sight of the two men – the two freaks standing on his doorstep.

The first one he recognized as being on the police report the previous year, the wanted criminal Sirius Black. The second was shabby looking dressed in dirty and ragged robes – robes of all things!

"Vernon!" Black's face broke into a wide grin. He spread his arms and tried to wrap his arms around him in an embrace. He couldn't do it. "I've heard the most wonderful things about you from James and Lily, how's it going, Mr. Bigshot?"