A/N: So I'll Try my best to respond to reviews, but if it gets too much I might not do it as much

Guest: Thank you. Glad to see that you're enjoying it so far.

AltenativeFutureFan27: We were PMing before so believe me when I say it's coming along. Slowly, but it's coming along. It might even be finished later this month.

Greer123: Thank you, Updates may be at random, but I don't plan on going on hiatus.

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?"

"Us, of course," the one answered. "With Captain Guts, Big Sis Casca, and Griffith on our side we'd show those Black Dogs that they're just puppies at heart."

Once Harry was sure that they hadn't seen him, he clung to the side of the tent tightly and moved along. When he reached the flap he hazarded a peek inside. It was empty of people but full of barrels. Just a quick sniff told Harry that there was no food inside. Instead it smelled like some of the drinks Aunt Petunia had served to the neighbors. Wine. He closed the tent flap and quietly made his way over to the next tent.

This tent had a light coming from inside, and because of that Harry was able to discern the shape of a person inside from their silhouette. Not this one, Harry easily decided moving once again to the next tent over.

Before he got the chance to peek inside this one, a loud cheer was coming from around another tent. Acting fast, Harry ducked around another corner to avoid being spotted. A group of guys walked past. Some wore armor, but some had changed into basic clothing consisting of torn shirts and worn breeches. The man walking in front of the rest was one of the largest Harry had ever seen. It looked as if he possessed the upper body strength of a rhinoceros. Some gauze was tied around his bicep and around his head of short spiky black hair. He carried an over large great sword which he currently now rested across his shoulder. If Harry had to guess, this man could probably lift Uncle Vernon up by his neck with one hand!

"Let's hear it again for Captain Guts!" One of the men cheered. "Fiercest raider in all of the Band of Hawk!"

"Save it for the toast, Gaston!" another man lightly jested. "Tonight we drink to a job well done!" That earned another cheer from the group of men. Harry watched as they went inside the tent he had been at previously. Talk about timing.

With those men out of sight, Harry took a quick peek inside the next tent. Much to his delight this one was also full of barrels, and none smelled of wine or alcohol this time. Like a cat, Harry tiptoed inside and opened one of the barrels. Tomatoes. He opened another. Potatoes. Another. Cucumbers, garlic, apples, food. He found it!

He grabbed two apples, as well as a tomato. It wasn't much by any means, but it was more than the leftover scraps he would get from the Dursley's, and he knew it would certainly be enough to satisfy his stomach for the rest of the night and in to morning. Or maybe even midday if he saved some for later.

Harry pulled the tent flap open, and then shut it just as fast as someone came walking past. They kept walking, so Harry assumed that they hadn't seen him about to exit just then, something he was thankful for. That didn't mean it still hadn't given him a heart attack though. "It's okay," Harry assured him. "Just make it back. That's it." Making his way out of the tent, more cheering filled the air.

"Hey, Judeau! Show us that knife trick of yours!"

"Again, Corkus?"

"Not all the boys got a chance to see it last time! C'mon, y'know ya want to."

"...Alright, alright. Which trick was it?"

"Y'know, the one where you stab it between your finger without getting cut."

"Mm. Alright, now watch closely."

Whatever they were doing, the cheering began to intensify, as well as the sound of a knife poking a wooden table over and over again. That actually spelled good news for Harry. With the men distracted he could slip out nice and easy- "Oof!" Harry looked up at what he had walked into, or rather who.

It was the large muscle man from before, and as he stared down at Harry, he was able to take in the sight of all the scars that lined the man's exposed arms as well as a rather distinct scar that lay horizontal on the bridge of his nose. He looked even bigger and imposing than before, and the sword only added to that image.

"So, just what the hell are you doing here?"

Headmasters office, Hogwarts, Midnight-

The night had been going perfectly well. Albus Dumbledore had enjoyed the Halloween feast along with his staff and students. The House Elves had seemed to take on the challenge of one upping their meal from last year. The students, as well as the Wizarding World as a whole had been looking forward to Halloween considering it was one of the most magical times of the year. He however could not help but feel that despite all of the celebrations going on, that there was something off.

The first thing that came to memory was the fact that this was the anniversary of that night. The night when Voldemort murdered James and Lily Potter just to get at their infant son. Everyone in the magical community knew that story, it was one of the most infamous since Grindlewalds fall from power decades ago. It was the night Harry Potter became The-Boy-Who-Lived.

This feeling was different than mourning the loss of friends. No one at Hogwarts had said anything, but that did not mean that something was amiss. And Dumbledore could honestly say that he was stumped as to what it could be. It was just like some invisible veil in the air, like it had always been there, but was just now showing its presence. For as many positions Dumbledore held within the magical community, a religious seat was not among them; but if he did, he would have compared the feeling to being watched by some god from above.

It had him on edge. And rightfully so when some of the many ornate instruments that lined his office started to zip, twirl, flip, and fizz in many a bizarre manner. Checking to see which instruments were going off, the Hogwarts Headmaster was startled to see they were the ones that monitored the wards around Number 4 Privet Drive.

Harry! Dumbledore frantically thought as he rushed over to Fawkes' perch. The phoenix perked up at his approach and flew over to his outstretched arm. "Fetch Minerva and Severus at once!" He instructed. With a nod of his head, Fawkes flew straight into the fireplace and disappeared in a ball of flame.

In the short time that it would take both professors to floo to his office, Dumbledore began to pace back and forth, scenario after scenario playing in his mind's eye. He thought about remaining Death Eaters looking to exact revenge for their fallen master, but he countered that with the fact that the blood wards would have prevented an attack such as that. But the ward detector had been one of his instruments going off not a minute ago. Had Lucius Malfoy somehow used his influence to track down Harry's location and have a curse breaker remove the wards? No. Until Harry attended Hogwarts his address would be kept secret on the Hogwarts ledger. Had Harry perhaps run away from the home? Granted he knew firsthand from Minerva's report that the Dursley family was less than idea, but they were still the only family Harry had left. The treatment couldn't have been that drastic. Could it?

Dumbledore silently berated himself. For all of his wisdom, he was still as prone to hindsight as anyone else. The headmaster was broken from his ruminations by a green glow from within his fireplace to reveal his Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall wearing her trademark green robe. Another flash of green flame and his Potions Master, Severus Snape emerged. Dressed in all black robes and wearing a face of indifference.

"The hour is awfully late, Albus," McGonagall was quick to point out. "What was of such great importance?"

"I am curious as well, Headmaster," Snape said with a drawl. "Surely there was no late night prank by one of our students. My Slytherin's are all accounted for. But I wouldn't put it past those Weasley twins."

"This is far more concerning than a prank, Severus." Dumbledore dismissed the assumption. "We are to floo to Arabella Figg's home. A situation has arisen."

McGonagall looked flabbergasted for a split second, before changing to determination. She was the first to grab a handful of floo powder and toss it into the soot filled fireplace. Dumbledore followed quickly after and allowed the green flames to consume him. The floor felt as if it gave out beneath him, but he kept his expression as neutral as he could as he felt his feet touch solid ground once more as he now stood in a living room where cats of all different breeds lounged about.

"Albus?" Figg asked as she saw him materialize inside of her home. "What's this all about? Your headmistress was already out my front door before I could ask what was-," the fireplace sprouted green flames once more, and the Potions Master stepped out. "Three of you?!" Figg began again. "Albus, what in heaven is going on?"

"I will explain in good time, Arabella," Dumbledore assured her as he headed out of her door. "Something is not right tonight." With a pace that was surprising for a man his age, Dumbledore strode across the street to where the Dursley's resided. Minerva was already at the front door and had begun to knock.

"The holiday is over!" a man's voice called from the other side of the door. "We've no more candy!" Minerva persisted and knocked even harder. "Do you have any bloody idea what hour it is!" the man shouted once more, he sounded closer this time. Dumbledore heard a lock being undone. "If you keep banging on my door I'll call the-," Vernon Dursely stopped his would be rant when he saw the three Wizards standing on his doorstep. So the Dursley's were unharmed; that was good. It cut the chance that Death Eaters had taken Harry.

"Good night to you, Vernon," Dumbledore said keeping a good job at keeping the panic out of his voice. "May we come in?"

Vernon stood there with his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he began to sputter. "Wha… you… any idea… bloody… no! No! No! No! No! NO! You've come for him haven't you?!" Vernon pointed an accusing finger between the three of them. "You've come to take him off that-that school for freaks, haven't you?!"

"That isn't how our acceptance system works," Dumbledore replied evenly. "We were stopping by to check up on Harry. To make sure that he is well and-,"

"I won't allow it!" Vernon bellowed. "It was enough that we took the boy in when we did; we've given him a roof over his head and have lived our lives as best we can without any of your people interfering!"

"Vernon, who is it?" a woman's voice asked. When her husband did not answer within a few seconds, Petunia Dursley came into view holding a glass of warm milk. As soon as she saw who was there her glass shattered on the floor. Her eyes instantly locked onto Severus. "YOU!"

Hello, Petunia," Snape greeted with a sneer. "You look…," he took in her horse like appearance, "…the same as ever."

"They've come for him, Petunia!" Vernon told his wife. "They've come to teach the boy magic!"

"We only wish to speak to young Harry," Dumbledore tried his best to assure the couple. "And I don't personally believe it would bode well if your neighbors were to see individuals such as ourselves visiting at this late an hour." Dumbledore knew he had struck a cord with that one. Petunia's eyes instantly widened as she poked her head out the threshold to see if anyone she knew was watching.

"…You just want to check on the boy?" Petunia hesitantly asked. Dumbledore nodded.

"Petunia!" Vernon hissed.

"They won't leave until they do, Vernon." Petunia admitted allowing them entry. "Wait in the living room. I'll… fetch him for you."

"No need," Dumbledore told her. "I just need to make sure that Harry is here is all. If he is asleep there is no need to wake him. May we go upstairs?" The two Dursley's paled.

"…he, doesn't sleep upstairs," Petunia said. She opened the cupboard that was under the stairs. Pushing down the feelings of anger that was starting to bubble up, Dumbledore strode forward and looked inside. Cobwebs adorned the space that was large enough only for a small mattress, which contained no sleeping child.

Minerva saw the site as well and rounded on the couple ready to release her ire upon them. "WHY YOU VINDICTIVE CUN-!"

"Minerva!" Dumbledore kept his voice clear, yet firm. As angry as she was at the two now terrified Dursley's, she could not be blinded by rage. "If you would, go outside and make sure the wards are still in place." He didn't leave that as a suggestion.

Fuming, McGonagall turned on her heels and stormed outside. "Severus, would you please keep an eye on our hosts?"

"Of course," Severus drawled once again ushering the two in the living room where he had them sit. Vernon did not appear being told to sit in his own home. Dumbledore meanwhile focused his attention back to the cupboard. How could this have happened? He should have paid a visit here much sooner than tonight. Minerva had been right all along. He drew his wand. There was no erasing what was already done, but he could still do his best to find Harry.

He muttered a string on incantations, moving his wand all over the cupboard space. Magic, no matter what kind always leaves traces. If this happened to be a case of accidental apparition, then it would be easy to pick up. The challenge in that was figuring out where he had gone, or if he had gotten spliced along the way. Getting no response from apparition, Dumbledore shifted focus with his incantations to more outside forces. This time the result was much more responsive. A faint green glow appeared for only a second before fading as quickly as it had come.

Whatever had happened to Harry, he was a long ways away now. The question now, was where?

Harry walked silently in front of the muscular man, who guided him through the camp. They passed by many different men, some wearing armor, some not, but they all appeared to be drinking something or other. It looked like they were celebrating a great victory or something.

"This way," the man said pointing to their left where a larger than average tent was pitched. It was easily two or three times larger than the others, and two banners hung on poled from either side of the flap. It was the design of a sword with wings coming out of the side. Harry's eyes widened. He had seen that same design before. It had been while he was having that dream.

"Hey!" The man all but snapped at him. "Quit staring already, c'mon." Swallowing a lump in his throat, Harry wordlessly followed behind. The swordsman pulled the flap open and made sure Harry went through first before following him in.

Inside was lit by two braziers as well as some candles that rested on a table in the center of the tent. Two people currently stood around the table looking over a map. The first was a woman with mocha skin and silky black hair that she kept short, just above her ears and wearing an armor breastplate and men's breeches. The second person was someone Harry wasn't even sure was real.

They had pale skin, with long snow white hair and piercing blue eyes. The armor they wore was white and silver, slender and elegant. The helm rested on the table, it was circular and designed in the shape of a bird of prey. A hawk. Harry thought them to be a girl at first, until they turned to acknowledge the two new presences and he saw that although the features were soft and feminine, there was an underlying masculinity to be found as well. But looking at all three of them together, Harry were surprised by how young they were. They had to be in their late teens at least, maybe no more than nineteen at the most.

"Ah, Guts," the white haired one greeted the swordsman. His voice was soft, but still had a firmness to it that gave it authority.

The swordsman, Guts, replied. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Harry saw the woman looked a bit annoyed with the addition of Guts.

"Actually, Griffith and I were just going over the strategy." She told Guts. "Seeing as you got injured, again, we decided to revise it. If you keep acting reckless then you'll… who is that?" she stopped her verbal berating to take in Harry's presence.

"That's why I'm here," Guts told her. "Found him sneaking out of our storage. With these." He placed the food Harry took on the table. Three sets of eyes now stared at him. Whenever this had happened with the Dursely's he knew exactly what to expect from them. Petunia would berate him with verbal assault, Uncle Vernon was more hands on discipline, and Dudley was a mix of the two of them. But for these people, Harry really had no idea what to expect.

"I'm sorry!" Harry shouted. "I didn't want to steal your food, I was just hungry. I… I was lost and didn't know where to go and… I'm sorry." His apology probably wouldn't mean anything to them. And the anxiety of what was going to happen to him took hold, when the one clad in white armor, Griffith, came and knelt down so he was at eye level.

"You snuck into our camp to steal this?" Griffith held up one of the apples.

Harry averted his eyes. "…Yes."

Griffith wore a mask of pure indifference as he studied Harry, and then did something none of them were expecting. He chuckled. It wasn't a sarcastic or condescending chuckle. No it was a pure, innocent, childlike chuckle. It was so unexpected Harry looked at him in surprise.

Chuckling some more Griffith said, "It looks like we have the making of a master thief before our eyes. Right, Casca?" The girl composed herself.

"Griffith, he could be-," Griffith stopped her with a smile. A childlike smile that seemed impossible for a knight like him.

"I think if he were a Chuder spy, he would have looked to stealing information or lives instead of food." Griffith smiled at Harry. "It's a little rude that we keep talking about you without even knowing your name, don't you think?"

"Um…" Harry had not been expecting this. Screaming, yes. Threatening, yes. Torture, maybe. But not to be dismissed as just being a kid.

"Would you e more at ease if we introduced ourselves first?" Griffith asked. "My name is Griffith, leader of the Bank of the Hawk. This here is Casca," he gestured to the girl, "my second in command. And Guts." The swordsman briefly glanced at Harry.

"…I'm Harry." Griffith took the second apple from the table.

"And I take it you're also hungry?" He handed Harry an apple. Harry accepted it, but did not bite into it. "Something wrong?" Griffith asked, taking a bite out of the other apple. "They really are in season."

Putting it to his mouth, Harry took a bite. The faint rumble of his stomach somewhat receded as he swallowed, but soon demanded more sustenance. He took another bite. And then another. Griffith chuckled again.

"I don't think I've seen horses eat apples that fast. You really were hungry." Harry bashfully nodded.

"I really am sorry," Harry apologized once more. "I shouldn't have stolen from you."

"So what are we going to do with him?" Guts asked looking at Harry from the corner of his eye causing the boy to pale once more.

"Hm," Griffith stood up and put a finger to his chin. "I have a few ideas in mind." He looked down to Harry. "Nothing bad I assure you. But you have to choose one. Would you like to hear them?" He could actually feel his heartbeat against his ribcage. Griffith said he wasn't going to do anything bad, but was going to let him choose what was going to happen. "Three choices for three pieces of food. Does that sound fair?"

Griffith was a complete stranger. Harry's school teachers had always hammered it into his head that you shouldn't trust strangers no matter what. But Griffith also seemed so… childlike. From the way he smiled and the way he laughed, it was like a child was made taller and put into a suit of armor. But when Griffith stood up it was like he had matured. He was giving Harry a choice, talking to him almost as if they had known each other from some time before.

Harry nodded. "…alright."

A/N: So that is the second chapter. What do you think the three choices will be? Thank you for reading.