Disclaimer- Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling and Berserk is owned by Kentaro Miura
Kentaro Miura 1966-2021
More than a one-shot?
Reviews:
MorphCross: Haha, thanks! I've toyed with that idea of a Berserk in HP verse since the other story first began. Glad that you enjoyed it!
Darkscythe Drake: May he rest in peace, indeed. He was taken far before his time.
Quatermass: Thank you, it may not have been much, but it was something that I couldn't not do.
MrSir17: Well, it isn't just a one-shot anymore (maybe a three or four-shot?) But here is a little bit more. I just couldn't resist.
"So, is this everyone?"
Sirius asked the question after everyone had settled down and rejoined back in the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley had put an extension charm on the table to better accommodate the eight additional guests that Grimmauld Place was now hosting. Or rather, the six humans and the two pixies that accompanied them. Sitting across from one of them, Harry could admit to himself with full confidence that he had never seen a group mainly consisting of muggles to look so... odd.
Harry wasn't really sure what he had been expecting when he thought of people versed in a different aspect of the magical world, but it certainly wouldn't be this.
The Vandimion girl - Farnese, and her manservant, Serpico, could pass for twins (he had known Fred and George enough to know the traits.) And despite claiming to be a witch, Farnese could pass for a perfect muggle that not even Uncle Vernon could tell the difference. Then again, she also apparently came from a wealthy upbringing and was a first-generation witch in an otherwise all-muggle family.
Serpico himself seemed polite enough, if not a little on the quiet side. He stayed close to Farnese, perhaps concerned for her safety around still potential strangers. He kept his eyes closed for the most part, or maybe just squinted enough to the point he could see between his lids. Either that or his eyesight was worse than Harry's own.
The two youngest members were perhaps of age with Ginny. The rusty-haired youth who could pass for being a long-lost Weasley cousin was named Isidro. He had a sly look in his eye that Harry had seen plenty of times on the twins to know that whatever he was thinking, it probably wasn't innocent. He even seemed to share an appetite with Ron, eyeing the food as Mrs. Weasly prepared it.
The other youth, the one with green hair, looked every bit a witch as possible. Her robes and pointed hat were a fine violet shade that Dumbledore could wear at any given time. Her eyes were owl-like and a deep shade of teal. In place of a wand, she instead had a staff. It was around these two that the pink and blue pixie seemed to gravitate towards the most.
Then there was the woman who seemed the most personable out of all of them named Casca. She was probably in her early to mid-twenties, dark hair, and eyes, naturally tan skin, and who seemed to have an aura of authority about her, but perhaps not as much as McGonagall. Upon closer inspection, she actually seemed a bit jittery and on edge. Her fingers would tap against the table and her leg would start to shake, forcing her to better adjust.
Finally, the most imposing of them all was a man the likes of which Harry would never have expected to see in his lifetime. Dressed completely in black, from his tattered cloak, to the armor he wore. It was as if he had stepped straight out of a gothic fairy tale, further completing the image with the massive sword he had strapped to his back which seemed too massive for any one man to wield alone.
This man could only be Guts.
He was tall, perhaps more than six-and-a-half feet, and he filled his build nicely with his muscle mass. He seemed an age with Casca but looked far older than someone in his twenties. His dark, spiky hair was marred by a tuff of white above his right eye; an eye that he kept shut at all times. His one good eye was a fierce brown, worn with determined exhaustion. His left arm was missing just below the elbow, replaced by a metal prosthetic. What flesh was visible on his body told stories from the scars he carried, the most prominent one ran across the bridge of his nose.
"Quite the group you've got here," Sirius further spoke. "Have any of you met Dumbledore before? He sure seemed to know of your existence."
"Mainly through reputation," Farnese answered. "I received my magical tutelage from an outside source, but I did receive a letter from his school after I declined Beauxbatons, but I declined as well."
"I haven't heard of Hogwarts offering admission to people outside the UK," Hermione seemed intrigued. "Where did you study?"
"It probably isn't mentioned in any official registry," Farnese seemed a bit bashful. "But I actually studied with Miss Schierke here, who learned from a witch named Flora."
"Flora? An independent establishment?" Hermione intrigued. "I know they were popular back in medieval times and before Hogwarts was founded, but I didn't know they were still around."
The greenette cast a slow nod. "I can only speak on behalf of Mistress Flora, I can't say for certain there are more on the mainland here. Her's was more of a haven than anything."
"Was?" Hermione picked up the past tense. "Is her establishment no longer around?"
Schierke ran her thumb over her staff. "I suppose you could say so."
"Erm," Sirius cleared his throat. "How about we all hold off on questions a bit longer? Molly, you have the food ready?"
"Coming!" Mrs. Weasley called as she levitated the meal over to the table for everyone to feast.
Both Ron and Isidro wasted no time in filling their plates. The witches adjoining them couldn't stop a deadpan expression from forming.
"The trip wasn't too bothersome, was it?" Lupin asked as the meal progressed. "With everything going on right now, I hope Dumbledore didn't inconvenience anyone."
"Hm? Oh, no, it wasn't that much of a bother," Casca responded. "We had actually docked back in Denmark from a trip to an island off the coast of Iceland. Perhaps it was good fortune that a companion of ours owns a boat when we got word."
"Should we be expecting more visitors then?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "We should still have room to accommodate."
"Not for the time being," Casca replied. "Roderick agreed to watch over some of the others with his ship in case we need them for anything."
"Wait, you said you came over from Denmark?" Hermione seemed to wrack her brain. "Roderick... Denmark... that wouldn't happen to be Roderick of Schtauffen, would it?"
"Who?" both Harry and Ron asked.
"Roderick of Schtauffen," Hermione repeated as if they were crazy. "He's a famed naval captain and third in line for the throne of his country. Honestly!"
"Hm. It would appear our good captain's reputation has preceded him," Serpico offered a small smile.
"Yes, coming here with a figure as well known as Roderick would have perhaps drawn too much attention," Farnese surmised.
"How do you know him, if you don't mind me asking?" Hermione furthered.
"Through my brother, Magnifico, mainly," Farnese supplied. "The two of them met in university and have been close acquaintances since. My brother is another of our companions and who mainly supplies us with some needed funds."
"Ah, a little brotherly love." "Goes a long way these days." The twins shared a snickered grin, no doubt referring to Percy. Farnese seemed a bit confused.
"Perhaps, but that isn't how I would choose to describe it."
Isidro swallowed down a gulp of water. "He's just afraid of what would happen if he didn't."
"Is your brother afraid of magic?" Mr. Weasley inquired. "Being a first-generation witch must have come as a bit of a surprise to the rest of your family."
"Magnifico is scared of just about anything outside of his control," Farnese shook her head. "I suppose you can say I was a bit of a late bloomer when it came to magic, but when I did, no one was too terribly surprised given a few prior... incidents."
Harry couldn't help but think back to the time he had suddenly appeared on the roof of his old school based on the manner in which she spoke.
"Right, right," Moody's gruff voice spoke up. "But if we're all done exchanging pleasantries, perhaps we can get down to discussing what we're all thinking."
Mrs. Weasley gave an affirmative nod. "I'll take care of your plates, off you go kids."
"C'mon, mum!" the twins protested. "We're both of age!"
"You two may be, but the others aren't," their mother argued. "Ron, take your sister upstairs. Harry, Hermione, you two as well."
Not wanting to further upset the Weasley matriarch, Harry made a move to rise from his seat before the sarcastically disinterested voice of Guts spoke out.
"You're going to send him away? Doesn't a lot of this stuff have to do with him?"
Harry froze midway through his action. His eyes found the singular brown gaze before it shifted away. Sirius barely concealed a rising smirk.
"Just because something may concern him, doesn't mean that he has to get involved," Mrs. Weasley countered. "He's just a boy."
"So?" Guts rhetorically asked. "Boys have to grow up eventually."
"He has a point, Molly," Sirius joined with the larger man.
"You're one to talk, Sirius Black!" she scolded. "A grown man still acting like a reckless teenager. Besides, Dumbledore left us instructions."
"That's news to me," Guts continued. "From what we were told, he made it sound like a war was going to break out at any moment. I say let the kid choose for himself if it's this concerning, but that's just my thoughts. Besides, it'd be a waste of everyone's time to bring in people for help and not listen to what they have to say."
Casca hit his arm. "Knock it off," she scolded. "Sorry about him. Meeting new people isn't his forte."
"Perhaps not, but he does raise a fair point," Sirius vocalized. He looked over towards Harry.
"Then I want to stay. I want to know what's going on." Sirius smiled at him.
"But-," Mrs. Weasley began.
"He has a right to know, Molly," Sirius enforced.
"Ugh! Fine!" she relented. "Ron, Hermione, Ginny, upstairs."
Ron looked over at Harry. "You're gonna tell us anyway, right?"
"Of course."
"Just stay, the both of you!" Mrs. Wealsey declared. "Ginny, off you go!"
"How is that fair?!" Ginny argued. She pointed over to the two other youngest members. "They're both around my age and you're not making them leave!"
"Because I can't speak for them, that's why," her mother argued. "Don't make me have to tell you again."
Ginny uncrossed her arms and looked over at Harry and her brother. "You'll tell me, too?"
"Sure."
Ginny's frustration quickly turned to triumph.
"That's-!"
"Enough with the yelling," Guts interjected. "That portrait upstairs was bad enough earlier." He rubbed the side of his head. "If there is a mole here, I doubt that it'd be a teenager."
And with a great deal of reluctance, the youngest Weasley was permitted to stay.
"So," Sirius began, "what is it you can tell us?"
"Preferably a bit more subdued," Mrs. Weasley grumbled, not looking the least bit pleased.
Guts seemed ready to answer with a sarcastic reply, but Casca gave him a wry glance and answered in his stead. "That entirely depends on what you want to know."
"How about anything you might know about You-Know-Who," Lupin suggested.
"Who?" the blue pixie tilted his head.
"Voldemort," Harry said his name, earning a flinch from a vast majority.
The short witch looked in his direction. "I have heard that name mentioned a few times before, enough to know a basic background, but none of us have really encountered him or his followers on our travels."
"You've seriously never learned about You-Know-Who?" Ron asked, baffled. "Blimey!"
"That isn't polite, Ronald!" Hermione swatted his arm.
Schierke fiddled some more with her staff. "Mistress Flora believed more in technique than gossip. It was a benefit of being isolated in the Forest of Dean."
"Forest of Dean...?" Harry felt his intrigue spike. "That's where we'll be," Rosine's voice played in his head.
"Yes," Schierke nodded. "Have you ever visited? Even if you couldn't discover our location, the forest itself was lovely to explore."
"Visit? No. No, I just... didn't know that another magical school existed that close to Hogwarts."
"Harry, you don't think that Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are the only other schools out there, do you?" Hermione questioned, sounding a bit more like McGonagall than she should've.
"No!" Harry defended. "I figured there were more out there, but I haven't memorized them like you probably did." Ron gave a small laugh. "And besides, she mentioned that it wasn't that well known and isolated."
The hat on Schierke's head dipped as she nodded. Seeing an opening, Harry had to ask.
"But, Schierke," she tilted her head. "You said that the forest was lovely. Has something happened to it?"
Her expressive eyes visibly darkened. "You'd be correct in assuming so."
"What do you mean?" Moody's magical eye fixated on the young girl.
It was Guts who answered in her place. "Because the things that I've hunted decided to pay a visit one day."
"Some sort of magical creature?" Mr. Wealsey guessed.
"Like a dragon?" Ron then asked.
"Maybe one of them," Guts grumbled, his eye swimming in a memory. "But it's all the same. Just monsters in human skin."
"Do you mean vampires and werewolves?" Lupin inquired.
"Not all werewolves are monsters," Tonks then stated.
"He didn't mean like that," Casca solemnly clarified.
"Then what exactly?" Moody pressed.
"Oh! Can I answer this one?" the blue pixie excitedly fluttered before the pink one intercepted. "Guess again, chestnut."
Guts eyed them with annoyance before he continued. "They probably have a lot of names like shape-shifters, demons, hellspawn; but the name they officially have are Apostles."
A nail of ice seemed to have pierced his heart as Guts uttered that title. You'd be surprised who else might be." So she really wasn't just alone in this. And if an insignificant girl from Surrey could be one, who else?
"Apostles?" Lupin repeated. "Religious?"
Guts actually gave the dryest laugh possible. "They're anything but holy." His already gloomy demeanor seemed to darken. "Still, they have a hierarchy about them. They owe that much to how they got the power they have."
"Power... from something like an angel?" Harry couldn't stop himself once he began.
There wasn't an immediate answer. Guts, and even the up-to-then calm Casca were giving him a look that was impossible to pinpoint exactly what emotion he was supposed to derive from it. He saw confusion, surprise, subdued anger, and something beyond just standard fear. There was terror.
"...Yeah," Guts eventually said. "I guess to them they would be."
No one responded to that at first. The ominous tone Guts delivered lingered before Moody decided to press the other one-eyed man.
"I can't claim to have ever witnessed a person turning into a monster all of a sudden," the ex-auror proclaimed. "Nothing ever showed up on any Ministry file either."
"Then they've been lucky," Guts casually stated. "Besides, they aren't a race that can just be documented from birth. In order to obtain their power, they have to give up something that they deeply value."
"You're talking about a ritual sacrifice?" Sirius surmised.
"Basically," Guts darkly replied.
Hermione seemed torn between listening and instantly inquiring about this sect of humanity. Curiosity seemed to win. "But... surely if there were people like this, there would be some evidence of them existing... right?"
Guts lazily blinked his eye before it drifted over to the copy of the prophet on the table, something about it catching his interest. "Pass that over here, will ya?"
It levitated over to him as he examined one of the articles. "Proof, huh?" He laid it down where everyone could see it. "There you go."
Hermione closely examined the article in question. It wasn't long before a bewildered expression formed on her face. "This is..."
Harry moved to get a closer look, too. The article was the one he had been shown when he had first arrived; the one about a man called Nosferatu.
"Zodd?" Ron said aloud. "Nosferatu Zodd!"
"Picture's a little blurry, but that's him alright," Guts confirmed. "At least when he's human."
"You've seen him?!" the twins exclaimed. "Like, actually seen him?"
"Seen and fought," Guts dryly admitted. "He was the first one I ever came across before I even knew what the hell an Apostle was."
"Then he'd have to be over 300-years-old - or more!" Hermione deduced.
"Probably," Guts casually replied. "Becoming an Apostle does come with some added benefits like advanced longevity and immunity. Basically, the only way for them to die is if you kill them directly."
This only further confirmed his encounter with Rosine. She looked no older than when she had vanished. While no one said anything directly, Harry knew that they were thinking of Voldemort and his own quest of immortality. Perhaps he was seeking these Apostles as well.
"And when you say you've fought and killed them, do you mean with that sword?" Ron drew attention to the slab slung across Guts' back. "I don't really know a lot about muggles, but I'm pretty sure they don't fight with swords or armor anymore."
"Dragonslayer's special." Guts' hand brushed the hilt. "Made by a talented old hermit to slay the impossible."
"And big enough to have to have a notice-me-not charm placed on it when walking about," Schierke piqued. "Not the easiest thing when it has its own od."
"Od?" Hermione asked.
Schierke nodded. "Yes, od. The energy of lifeforce." She received a fair amount of stares in her direction. Her cheeks dusted red. "Y-you know, that's also how magic operates."
"I've never seen that word mentioned in A History of Magic," Hermione stated. "I know magic has roots to a realm far from physical, does that apply?"
"Very much in fact!" Schierke nodded. "In fact, I saved some texts from Mistress Flora about od and layers of reality. If you think it might be of some use, I could lend them if you wish."
Ron nudged him. "Looks like she has her night planned out," he remarked at Hermione's instant acceptance.
"It wouldn't kill you to read something besides a Quidditch magazine, Ronald," Hermione shot at him.
Ignoring the bickering of his two friends, Harry asked, "What about your armor?" Guts' eye landed on him. "Is that special, too?"
The swordsman pondered his question. "In more ways than one."
"He means that it was a relic Mistress Flora had been keeping safe," Schierke again supplied. "The previous owner died wearing it long ago. It allows the wearer to surpass human limitations when fully activated, but at a great price to their own body."
"That sounds a lot like the stories of Emperor Gaiseric," Hermione remarked. "He was said to be unparalleled in combat."
"I don't know," the blue pixie fluttered over. "Guts here could probably surpass that ruler if he ever bothered to learn Elf style combat." He was an elf? He looked nothing like Dobby or Kreacher. "Besides, he's good enough to catch ol' skully's attention."
Guts battered him away. "Don't start boasting, bug. Besides, that bonehead was watching me even before all of this."
"Hmmph!" the apparent elf crossed his arms. "Well it's true. And my name's Puck! Puck! How can you forget the name of your best friend?"
Bonehead? Skully? Could they mean...?
"Hey," Harry suddenly said. "This might sound a bit mad but, you've never come across a skeleton knight, have you?"
That piercing eye found him once more. "Why? Have you met him, too?"
"I guess that depends if we're talking about the same person," Harry implied.
Both Hermione and Mrs. Weasley seemed ready to scold him for being impolite, but Guts actually elicited a dry chuckle. "No straight answer. So you have met him."
Harry nodded. "Why didn't you say so before, Potter?" Moody instantly questioned.
"I wasn't sure anyone would believe me," Harry defended. "Besides, I didn't want to seem the loon the Prophet is making me out to be. That knight killed one of the dementors that night before taking Dudley and I back to Privet Drive. He just disappeared after that." He looked back to Guts. "How do you know him?"
"Kinda like you," Guts said. "Bonehead pops in and out every now and again, never really much sense when he does. But he is the reason why most of us are still alive. It was through him that that headmaster learned of us, I wager."
"Dumbledore knows, too?" Sirius asked. "He never told the Order."
"Don't go jumping to conclusions, Padfoot," Lupin advised. "Dumbledore has reasons for everything he does."
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Been a while since I heard that one."
"Perhaps we could continue this at a later time?" Casca suggested. "There's quite a lot to take in."
"Absolutely right!" Mrs. Weasley agreed as she cleared the table. "Hermione, Ginny, you wouldn't mind Schierke and Farnese joining your room?"
They agreed easily enough, if for nothing else Hermione was eager to discuss further magical practices with the green-haired witch. Isidro would be with him and Ron and Harry made note to keep anything of value out of the boy's reach while Serpico would go with the twins.
"I can show you to your room, if you'd like," Sirius offered Guts.
"Sure," the larger man gruffed as he and Casca followed him up the stairs. The latter's inclusion made Harry question if the two of them were perhaps an item.
...
"This house isn't stirring any old memories, is it?" Sirius asked as they ascended the stairs.
"Should it?" Guts asked.
"Not particularly," Sirius replied. "You would have only been a baby when it happened and I wasn't even off to Hogwarts yet. I was telling them yesterday about my uncle - Gambino Black."
"What about him?" Guts then asked.
"Just the basics. He brought you here once with his woman that one year. That was the angriest I had seen my mother in ages before I became the resident black sheep." He smiled at his own joke. "But I never really knew what happened to you after he passed. Once I had moved out, I thought about trying to reach out and find you, but I didn't exactly know where to start."
Guts hadn't been expecting that. "Don't worry about that," he told the man. "I made do well enough on my own." He could feel Casca's stare on the back of his neck. "Mostly on my own."
"From what you said downstairs, it sure sounds like you've hardly had a dull moment."
"Not everything can be sunshine and rainbows."
"That's what you say," Puck landed on his head before Guts biffed him off. "What was that for?!"
"Go and play with the kids," Guts told him.
"You really want him and Isidro together?" Casca questioned.
She had a point there. "Fine. Maybe go socialize with that thing sulking off by itself and cleaning."
"You mean Krecher, the House Elf?" Sirius asked.
"There you go," Guts feigned enthusiasm. "It was meant to be."
"Another elf you say?" Puck's bright face illuminated in a radiant smile. "My brethren awaits!"
As he flew off, Sirius shook his head. "He's in for a rude awakening. Krecher isn't the friendliest thing around."
"That's never stopped him before," Guts nearly sighed.
Sirius stopped on one of the floors and opened one of the doors for them.
"This might not be the master room, but it should be big enough for that sword and armor of yours."
"I'm sure it'll be fine," Casa assured. "Thank you for accommodating for us, Mr. Black."
"Ha!" Sirius outright laughed at that. "'Mr.' Black. Good thing Moony wasn't around to hear that one." He reached out to give her a pat on the shoulder, an action she instantly shied away from. Sirius' smile dropped.
"Er, sorry," he apologized. "Not a touchy-feely type?"
Casca straightened. "Hard to remember a time when I was."
Guts bit his tongue hard enough to elicit a hint of an iron taste. Hard as he wanted to believe otherwise, even after returning from that island, things had not instantly returned to normal. But one day... maybe.
Somewhere out there right now, the man who had brought this all about was out there.
Aren't you, Griffith?
...
He was in a forest of some sort, that much was clear. Slivers of moonlight would shine through the canopy above, barely illuminating what could constitute as a path. On either side, he was flanked by an escort. Neither said much, too concerned with keeping pace with the center.
One step and-
Fheeeww!
"Gah!" a delayed cry rang out from the one on his left.
What appeared to be some altered version of an arrow had hit the man directly in his hand, breaking his wand clean in half.
A jet of green light fired from his own wand into the darkness ahead. "Show yourself if you're not already dead!" his cold voice rang out.
Fheeeww!
Another arrow landed right where he was about to step. His wand raised once more.
And then, the voice.
"Stand down, Irvine."
"Show yourself!" his voice commanded once more. "I know you to be there."
The voice spoke again. "Just as I know where you to be. Except I can see you." The voice was almost, playful; a child's voice coming from an adult.
"I have not come to be made a fool of," the cold voice called again. "I know you are here. I've had that dream. Who are you to make demands of me? To summon me here?!"
From the dark, a light began to grow. serene as the moon above, but with the intensity of a neutron star. At first, it almost seemed to be in the form of a hawk of some kind, before a more defined outline became visible through the light.
A man. The light was coming off of a body. Long hair trailed in his wake.
The voice called again. "One who can make an offer."
The light began to dim enough for the surrounding woods to shine with the lights of various eyes in attendance. As the light began to fade, the encroaching darkness crept forward with sinister intent.
Light radiated once more, a ward between them and what lay beyond. Outlines of figures moved to stand behind the body of light. Two gigantic figures, another tall and proud, one of average height, and one smaller, twisted, and cloaked in shadow.
"Would you hear what I have to say?"
And the light was blinding.
When Harry opened his eyes, he felt a pain in his head so hot that he opened his mouth to scream. And when he did... a mere sigh escaped from his lips. He felt... rested? He actually felt he had just gotten a full night's sleep. In fact, he was feeling as though he could fly without a broom! He was... what was he feeling? Elated? Relieved? Reinvigorated? He didn't really know. He felt his heart to find the warm pulse underneath.
But if it felt in such a way, what else could it be but real.
...
Harry felt the days passed with relative swiftness as the date of his scheduled hearing before the Crown dawned nearer. It hadn't helped that the dream he had had previously was beginning to fade from memory, but not before confiding in both Ron and Hermione about it. They both recommended reaching out to Dumbledore about it, but Harry couldn't bring himself to agree, not when he had been left in the dark for so long.
"I've talked to Schierke," Hermione had said. "She says that some dreams can often be messages or visions from the astral plane." Her discovery of these so-called "planes" had consumed her time in summer reading. Harry really wasn't sure what to make of that.
Unlike some of his previous nightmares, this had none of the lasting effects of the previous ones. When he normally had a dream pertaining to Voldemort, they always felt a warning. This was more of... a calling?
Either way, it felt more akin to some lucid fever dream than anything else.
And still so real.
When he wasn't pondering over that cryptic scene, he was kept busy enough trying to study and practice what he would say when his summons approached. Hermione and Farnese, surprisingly, agreed to educate him a bit more on mundane legality, while Sirius gave some insight as to what to expect from the Ministry side.
"Is your brother also a lawyer?" Harry asked the blonde girl after flipping through what felt like useless text.
"I have more than just one brother," Farnese informed. "But as all of them are involved in the family business in one way or another, they've all had tutelage in the art. Myself is no exception. Besides, from the sound of it, all you really need to do is attend and present your side of the story."
"Don't worry too much about it," Sirius patted his shoulder. "Even the Ministry has to abide by a crown authority. Just don't let the Ministry official talk all over you. If they're sending who I think, then things won't go smoothly."
"And you tell me not to worry?" Harry rhetorically asked.
Sirius snorted. "Not smooth for them. I can't imagine that the royal family will fancy being talked down to."
And before he knew it, the fated day had arrived.
...
Waiting for him by the door was both Mr. Weasley and Guts, surprisingly.
"You're coming, too?" Harry asked the large man.
"Is that a problem?" Guts asked.
"No!" Harry said. "I just didn't think a hearing would be up your alley." Even with the notice-me-not charms on his armor and sword, a man like Guts would be horribly out of place at Wyndham Palace any day of the week.
"He agreed to come along as additional security," Mr. Weasley gave an assuring smile.
"Yeah, that," Guts seemingly agreed. "Besides, there was something I wanted to look into myself."
Deciding he wouldn't get much more if he asked, Harry nodded along and followed them outside where Mr. Weasley had borrowed a Ministry car for the day. It proved handy as Guts had to lay Dragonslayer down on the backseat, leaving room for Mr. Weasley to drive and Harry to take the passenger side.
Harry had seen fleeting glimpses of the palace on the telly and a few times while being dropped off for the Hogwarts Express, but seeing it up close made him realize just how massive it truly was. They were stopped at the first gate and told to turn around before Mr. Weasley told them they were there on official business in Harry's name.
The guard didn't seem to believe them and called up to affirm. When he got his response, he apologized and allowed them entry through to a private road that led up to the palace.
They were greeted outside by two official-looking men, one blonde and the other a bearded brunette. They introduced themselves as Sir's Owen and Laban respectively.
"Welcome to Wyndham Palace, Mr. Potter," Owen greeted. He seemed to await a response.
"Oh, um, thank you for having me." It sounded weak, and he knew it. Both men seemed to smile good-heartedly.
"A pleasure indeed, but I'm sure you wish the circumstances were drastically different," Laban suggested. Harry nodded.
"These are your escorts?" Owen questioned.
"Erm, yes," Harry answered. Mr. Wealsey looked around the exterior, wondering how such a structure had been built without magic. Guts stood there, ever vigilant.
Laban nodded. "They may escort you inside, but will have to wait outside of the court chamber until the session has concluded."
"That sounds quite reasonable," Mr. Weasley agreed.
"Sounds good," Guts simply affirmed.
Allowing the trio entry the two men led them through the palace, to a large let of doors. Owen opened one for him. "Here you are, Mr. Potter."
Steeling his nerves, Harry walked through to the chamber beyond.
Three major benches were arranged inside. One played host to a man Harry recognized as Minister Fudge, looking none too happy to see him. And the woman next to him reminded Harry of a squat, pink toad. Especially with her mousy-brown hair and wide smile at seeing him enter. Knowing that he wouldn't be seated amongst them, Harry sat at the lone table, pulling an ornate chair up to sit down. Both of their tables face the third which rested on an elevated platform where an array of people were seated.
There was a short, bald man, Minister Foss. Another with rich, auburn hair and a permanent scowl on his face; Prince Julius, the King's brother. In the center sat a man with brown hair and a beard, a crown resting heavily on his head, the King. To his left was a girl a few years Harry's senior with brown hair and doe-blue eyes and the one responsible for this hearing even taking place; Princess Charlotte. And next to her was a large, fat, and bald man whom Harry could only assume was some other noble, perhaps one who had jurisdiction over Surrey.
"Mr. Harry Potter has arrived, Your Majesty," Laban announced behind him.
"Very well." The King arose, as did everyone else in the room. Harry clumsily stood up, having just gotten comfortable in his seat. "Let us be seated." Seriously? Harry thought. He caught looks of amusement from the toad lady and the sluggish man. Prince Julius seemed ready to snap at him, and Princess Charlotte seemed genuinely upset on his behalf.
"Now, it has come to royal attention of a disturbance within the magical aspect of our society that has directly interfered with that of the mundane," the King began. "You, Harry James Potter are the primary character of this incident."
Does he nod? Stand up and speak? What?! He stayed silent. The King continued.
"Under normal circumstances, you would be left to Wizarding law. But considering the uncertain nature of this incident, my daughter has had pity upon you and called for this hearing to proceed. Do both parties understand that the Crown has the final say in this verdict, as proclaimed by the Great Emperor of Old: Gaiseric."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Fudge said. Harry repeated after him.
"Then let us proceed." The King said. "Count Wormstrom, will you read the statement of events that was presented to Minister Foss from his counterpart?"
"Certainly, Your Majesty," the large man with the title of Count stood. "On the evening of July 2nd, Mr. Harry Potter produced a Patronus charm in the presence of a muggle. Fully aware that he was underage and forbidden to use magic outside of school, Mr. Potter was issued an exclusionary notice. This all pertained before the scheduled hearing."
"Thank you, Count," the King said. "Minister Fudge, has your account of prosecution still stand as before?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Myself and the Ministry of Magic demand that Mr. Potter be expelled and have his wand snapped to prevent any future retaliation on his behalf."
"Very well," the King dryly spoke. "Mr. Potter."
He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Y-yes, Your Majesty?"
"Is it true that you performed this spell outside of your school?"
All eyes were on him now. "...Yes," he admitted.
The King's eyes seemed entirely unbothered as he asked the next question. "And by performing said spell, is it true that you exposed your world to someone of the mundane?"
There was really no getting around it. He had done so in front of Dudley."Y-," and then, done so in front of Dudley.
"No, Your Majesty. I did not."
"Hem-hem!"
Eyes now shifted over to the woman in pink. "I'm terribly sorry. But Mr. Potter is lying." Her smile widened. "A muggle was present when Mr. Potter performed his spell."
The King seemed largely unamused. "Minister, it is not your assistant's turn to speak."
"I apologize, Your Majesty," Fudge actually offered a bow. "Madam Umbridge here is my Undersecretary but does speak the truth. All underage wizards have a trace on them which alerts our Ministry when and around who they perform a spell around."
"Duly noted," the King said. "Care to revise your statement, Mr. Potter?"
"No, Your Majesty. I performed the spell, but I didn't expose anything."
"Hem-hem! That is-,"
"Explain yourself," the King ordered.
"The muggle I did the spell in front of was my cousin, Dudley Dursley."
"Ah, yes, we have records here of him being admitted to a local hospital following that event," the King was handed a set of papers. "And it is the Crown's understanding that direct family are permitted to know of magic's existence, are they not, Minister?"
"Well, er, that is uh," Fudge blustered. The King grew impatient.
"A yes or no will suffice, Minister."
"Er... yes, yes direct family is permitted to know."
Umbridge wasn't deterred so easily. "But the fact still remains as to why Mr. Potter committed such an act. His cousin was hospitalized by an action he caused in an effort to show off."
"That isn't-!"
"Stay your tongue, boy!" Prince Julius snapped at him. "The King is speaking."
"What was your reasoning for such an action?" the King inquired.
"I only did it because we were being attacked by dementors," Harry calmed himself.
"Dementors?"
"Erm, yes, Your Majesty," Fudge replied. "They are a species of creature who feed off of people's happiness, instilling only dread. Our Ministry has them under control and they act as guards to our Azkaban Prison. They are invisible to muggles, of course."
"Invisible to muggles... convenient," the King said. "Count? What were the symptoms listed for Mr. Dursley's arrival to the hospital?"
The Count's sausage fingers held up a paper. "Ah, yes, a severe cold, shivering, occasional vomiting, unfocused eyes, severe drowsiness, and constant mumbling."
"Tell me, Minister, do any of those sound like symptoms of a dementor encounter?"
"They certainly sound... quite accurate, yes," Fudge began to sweat. "But there is no proof that any dementors were there at all."
"Well, Mr. Potter?"
"Proof?" He didn't have any proof! There was the dead dementor, but... that was it! "I don't have any proof on me, Sire. But in the alley between Privet Drive and Magnolia Crescent, the body of a dead dementor should still be there."
"Hem-hem-hem!" Umbridge madly coughed. "Please pardon my interruption, but-,"
"But you will not be reminded again," the King let his impatience be shown. "What do you speak of, Mr. Potter?"
"During the attack, one of the dementors was killed. Its body should still be in the alley."
"Your Majesty, it would be pointless to send an inquiry," Fudge said. "Besides, dementors decay much faster than human bodies, and all are accounted for at Azkaban."
"There are documents on that?" the King asked. Fudge nodded.
"Besides, the chances of two dementors straying from Azkaban and stumbling upon a wizard... the chances are astronomical!"
"Pardon. But, if that were true, wouldn't it be the opposite?" eyes now landed on the once quiet princess.
"My daughter, of what do you speak?"
"It's just... the Minister claims that it wouldn't make sense for these creatures to seek out a wizard, but if both are magical, and these... dementors guard a magical prison, doesn't it make more sense for them to be around a wizard?"
"Well, Minister," the King followed his daughter's thought. "Are they not conditioned to do so?"
"Conditioned? Oh, no, it is impossible to condition a dementor. They are driven by instinct alone and a need to feed to survive."
"Minister Fudge," Minister Foss spoke up. "Earlier you said your Ministry has them under control, and yet you can't condition them?"
"Placated, is a better term," Fudge corrected. "By supplying them with prisoners, we keep their hunger at bay."
"And if two were starving, they would not seek food elsewhere?" the King questioned.
"That would be unheard of, Your Majesty," he said. "As I said, all are accounted for."
Charlotte seemed puzzled. "Then, Minister... would it be possible for you to get a count of how many are at your prison?" Umbridge lost her smile entirely. "You said there were documents."
"Er... that would take some time to properly organize and-,"
"Organize?" Prince Julius scoffed. "You just said they were all accounted for. What is there to organize?"
"The Minister has methods to how he operates," Umbridge defended. "To question him is to question our Ministry as a whole."
"Is that not what this is about?" Julius remarked. "And watch your tone, lest Gaiseric's spirit cast its vengeance."
"Enough, all of you!" the King ordered. "The Crown has decided. Given the testimony by Mr. Potter and its alignment with the facts presented and lack of substantial evidence, the Crown rules in his favor."
A weight Harry didn't fully realize was pressing on him was removed. He very well could have grown wings and soared at that very moment.
"The Crown reinstates him back in attendance of Hogwarts and finds him cleared of all charges."
The King stood and exited the room, followed by most of his entourage. Fudge and Umbridge, looked none too pleased but filed out just the same. Harry was about to exit to find Mr. Weasley and Guts when a voice called out to him.
"Pardon!"
It was the Princess. Owen and Laban followed her as she approached the now acquitted Harry. Did she want to talk to him? Does he bow?
"Your Highness?" he offered a formal greeting, or as formal as he could.
"Yes, I merely wanted to request a moment of your time before you were off and to offer my congratulations."
"Oh, well, uh, thank you, Princess. I really should be the one thanking you for arranging this, to begin with."
She shook her head. "I merely offered a suggestion. My father and Count Wormstrom were the ones to formally organize it."
"The Count?" Harry seemed perplexed.
"Yes," Charlotte nodded. "He is also a judge in the Surrey region, hence why he was present today. I'm honestly surprised he agreed to it." She whispered the next bit, "Initially he seemed untroubled and unconcerned of your situation. It seems he had a change of heart."
Harry just nodded, not sure what to make of that. "It seemed to work out well enough. But, can I ask you something, Your Highness?"
"Certainly."
"Why did you help me out with this? None of this concerned you or your father."
"Why?" Charlotte didn't ponder long. "I've heard about you before. Whenever Minister Foss got a report from Minister Fudge, your name was usually associated with it. It always seemed that you were doing far more than a boy your age should. I'm but a few years older and I can hardly think of one truly productive thing that I've done. If you were able to do all that good, then it was the least that could be done for you. Or so I believe."
"Erhum, I'm not interrupting you, am I, Your Highness?"
Staying behind was the man who was the topic of discussion a mere moment ago.
"Oh, Count Wormstrom!" Charlotte greeted. "Not at all. I was merely discussing with Mr. Potter. Was there something you needed?"
"Merely to do the same," the Count stepped forward.
Up close, Harry could better see the large figure of the Count. His skin wasn't just pale, it had almost a greyish tint to it, almost resembling a corpse. His ears had a slight point to them, and his heavy brow almost mirrored his various chins with how it covered his eyes. The Count extended a ringed hand.
"A pleasure to meet a distinguished individual such as yourself, Mr. Potter."
Hesitantly, Harry reached out to shake. The Count's grip was deceptively strong and his cold flesh made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He made a mental note to sanitize his hand when he got back to headquarters.
"You kept your composure well... for the most part," the Count released his hand. "You defended yourself quite well. Had you not been acquitted, I would have suggested a career in law."
"Oh, that's uh, thoughtful of you, Count."
"Mr. Potter, are those your escorts?" Charlotte diverted his attention away from the Count as Mr. Weasley and Guts came in. As they did, a point of interest occurred.
The Count's heavy brows seemed to lift, giving Harry at his... orange-colored eyes? In turn, Guts focused his single eye on the Count, never blinking once as he approached. The shared stare between them did not go unnoticed.
"Count, do you know this man?" Laban asked as Guts stopped a convenient Dragonslayer length away from the Count.
He didn't respond at first, staring intently at Guts with a smile that that did not match the malice in his gaze. He eventually folded his hands and laughed. "Oh-ho! It seems I was mistaken! My apologies. I thought this man to be my head of security, Mr. Zondark. They do share many physical traits. Or... most physical traits."
Guts' hand moved up, seemingly ready to grab Dragonslayer and cut this man in two. Instead, he paused. His hand went to rub a spot near the back of his neck.
"My bad, too. You look like some associate of someone I once knew. Then again, it's hard to mistake with that smell."
"Oh, my!" Charlotte covered her mouth and both Owen and Laban made a move to step between both men.
"Sirs, this type of behavior is not to be accepted in front of the Princess."
"Apologies," the Count said without breaking the stare. "I shan't overstay my business here. I'll be on my way." He slowly made a move to pass by Guts. "And do see to that injury of yours. The neck is such a delicate structure." His eyes briefly shone with sadistic benevolence before he lowered his heavy brow and exited the room.
"Um, pardon me, sir, but are you hurt?" Charlotte asked as Guts eventually faced them after the Count had left. Sure enough, from a spot near the back of his neck, a trail of blood was visible. "I can have a medical staff attend to you?"
"Not necessary," Guts dismissed without much thought. "But what would really be a huge help, is telling me that guy's name."
A/N: So I decided to write a second chapter for this, it was on my mind since Miura's last chapter came out. Once again, this story is up for anyone who wants to continue it themselves, I'd be more than happy to supply input on it since I am busy with my AOt/HP story and an entirely original story I'm working on publishing over on my Wattpad account and I've been pretty busy with that. Anyway, thanks for reading.