Chapter 3- Confrontations
A/N: This chapter might read a bit bizarre, because I'll be changing points of view without changing scenes, just to reflect what every character is thinking at the moment. You've been warned.
It wasn't as quick as Integra had intended, once Walter told her what the private detective had uncovered about young Harry Potter. All three of them wanted to take a direct and final approach to the situation, they even had the Crown's approval if they so desired, it was in the charter the Royal Protestant Knights upheld. However, dead people learned nothing, and they figured that in this case an object lesson was important. So, after the murdering rage simmered down to cold vengeance, the trio formulated a plan to deal with the situation. Alucard, surprisingly, remained utterly calm and silent after the decision of not terminating the Dursleys was taken, which bothered both Integra and Walter, to a certain degree.
Now, nearly a month later, a month where the Dursleys were silently investigated and enough evidence was collected so they would have a solid case to deliver to the proper authorities if they so desired, the plan was put in motion. During the course of said investigation, they discovered that Dursley senior had a `thing' about royalty and the Royal Family in particular, so it was a simple case of sending a polite letter to Grunnings asking for a specific sales representative to be sent to Hellsing Manor, and that the Crown would be very thankful for their prompt action.
A date and time was set, and Integra was now waiting for the waste of space to show up.
Her intercom beeped, and Walter's voice came through. "Sir, Mr. Vernon Dursley from Grunnings is here," he said politely.
"Send him in, Walter," she said, and the murdering rage that she had felt when first told came back, full force. She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath, squashing it for the time being.
The door to her office opened up, and the fat man waddled in. Integra registered his surprise when he noticed that the `Sir' wasn't, in fact, male. Using an extra ounce of her fabulous will, she once again squashed her want to draw her Walter 9mm out and use him as target practice.
"Mr. Dursley?" she asked, trying to sound as polite as possible.
"Y-yes, V-Vernon Dursley, at your service," he said, his brain still trying to understand why he was talking to a `Sir' who looked like, and sounded like a woman. Would he…she be one of those transgender freaks he heard about? However, he offered his hand to be shaken, which was summarily ignored. He noticed, however, that her - he would go with her until said otherwise - eyebrows rose almost to her hairline, and her face looked enraged for a moment, until it went back to cold indifference.
"Have a seat, Mr. Dursley," Integra said, her voice even colder than usual, especially after what Alucard had transmitted what Vernon Dursley thought about her. Summary execution sounded better by each passing moment. The whale sat at the offered chair and started to fumble with his case. "No need to show me anything right now, Mr. Dursley, let's talk first."
"S-sure, Sir," he said, uncertain about the title, but since it was what Mr. Dornenz had called her, it would be how he would address her. Not a smart move to upset a possible client with ties to the Crown.
"Tell me, Mr. Dursley, are you married?" Integra asked.
Vernon calmed down a bit. He had his parcel of chatty clients, and while they were sometimes annoying, they often proved to be good and very profitable clients. "Yes, Sir. Going on to almost twelve years now."
"Any children?"
"My boy Dudley. Smart lad, he is, takes to his father. Almost ten now," he said, proudly.
"Good, good. So, I imagine you like children," Integra said, and picked the folder resting to a side.
"Oh, yes, yes," Vernon lied. He liked his Dudders, but children in general irked him.
"That's good to know. You see, I'm an only child, and I lost my father when I was nine years old, but I learned since early on that family is very important. I don't have any living blood relatives, but I made a family for myself. The man that introduced you outside, Walter? He's the closest thing I have to a father now, and while he might sound a little cold and impersonal, I know for a fact that in his heart I'm the closest thing he has to a daughter. We have no blood between us, but what we have is a family," Integra said, now perusing the contents of the folder.
Vernon nodded automatically, but to be honest this conversation was bothering him.
"Did you ever want to have any more children?" Integra asked.
Vernon shook his head. "No, Ma…Sir. My wife Petunia and I are content with just our boy," he replied, almost slipping and calling her madam.
"Interesting. But what if someone dropped a bundle at your doorstep, say, a young baby and asked you to take care of him from the goodness of your heart, would you do it?" Integra asked, sounding perfectly casual.
Vernon froze. The woman had…no, it wasn't possible. How? He had to answer her… "O-of c-course we would, Sir. It's the r-right thing to do," he lied.
"I see," she answered, and removed one photo from the folder. "Then I'd like you to explain him to me, Mr. Dursley," she said, and slid the photo of Harry over the table, and it stopped right in front of him. It was a blown up image of Harry working on their front lawn.
Vernon stood up, enraged and affronted. "What sort of…"
Integra was faster than he was. "Sit down, Dursley, or I'll go along with my baser impulses and kill you right now," she said, slamming her hand hard at the table. It sounded like a pistol shot in the closed office.
"You c-can't…" he tried, not believing what he had just been told.
"I can and I will. Now sit down and listen," she said. He dropped like a sack of potatoes back in the chair. "I am Sir Integral Wingates Fairbrooks Hellsing, Head of the Hellsing Organization and the Royal Protestant Knights. It is my job to keep England safe against threats, and I have the authority, granted upon me by Her Majesty and the Crown, to kill whoever I deem necessary to do so. In the grand scheme of things, Vernon Dursley, I wouldn't consider you worthy of anyone's attention, especially mine. However, Fate decided to intervene in our lives, and it called my attention upon you. Now, I want you to tell me everything about your nephew. Spare no words."
Vernon tried to lie, but to lie he would have to be thinking right now, but he was too scared to have any real chance of lying convincingly, so he decided to go with the truth. Steeling himself, he started to talk.
"We never wanted him, he comes from the freak side of my wife's family. She and her freakish husband died and left him at our doorstep. Can you imagine having a baby forced upon you, and an unnatural…thing like himself to top it off? I am always afraid he'll…contaminate us, or that someone will come and finish the job they started, and me and my family would pay the price? I don't want him, I never wanted him, but I must suffer him anyway. I tried to…" he said, but stopped himself.
"You tried to what, Dursley?" she asked, icily.
"I tried to remove the freakishness…"he replied, but saying it seemed to embolden him. "You have no right to ask how I deal with him, he was left at my doorstep so I shall deal with him as I see fit, not as some proclaimed whore…"
This time, the sound of the gunshot was all too real, and Vernon screamed in pain, his left knee destroyed by the bullet.
"You'll listen to me, you worm," she said, moving around her desk after holstering her pistol, "James Potter was my godfather, and Fate was not kind enough to let him be alive so I could meet him. However I have much more of a relationship than that. I have a debt of honor to the Potter family, a debt I will fulfill to the best of my abilities. What you are going to do now is, you're going to sign those papers, transferring Harry's guardianship to me, and then you're going to disappear. I don't care where you will go or how you'll get there, but if I ever see or hear your name again, I'll send someone after you that will make this look like a lover's tap. Do you understand me?" she asked, coming closer to the man. When he didn't answer, she pressed the heel of her shoe against the destroyed knee. "I said, do you understand me?"
Between wails of pain, Vernon screamed "yes" several times.
"Good. Now, sign."
*****
Petunia was waiting for Vernon's return with a great deal of anticipation. He had mentioned about the letter Grunnings had received asking for his very own presence at a new client, and his supervisor's hints that if the deal was concluded, he'd certainly get a promotion out of it. She barely had left the window during the day, only to give young Dudders his meals. It was mid-afternoon when the usual quaint status quo of Little Whinging was dramatically changed. A motorcade of three vehicles came from down the street, two smaller vehicles providing security for a limousine. Petunia's eyes almost fell down from her face when the vehicles stopped right in front of her house. She yelled for Dudley to come down, while outside several men disembarked from the two small vehicles and cordoned off the area. The entire situation called every neighbor outside, and Petunia promptly walked outside.
One of the security men, dressed in an impeccable suit, opened the back door to the limo, and that's when Petunia's world was once again turned upside down. Vernon came out of the large luxury vehicle tumbling down, as if kicked out. He was in severe pain, that much was clear from both his looks and the wail he gave as soon as he hit the hard pavement. His wife came running to his aid but was stopped by one of the security men. Another one held Dudley in check.
From the limo disembarked a distinguished, albeit young, woman, with silvery blond hair, ice blue eyes clearly visible behind large glasses, dressed impeccably in a forest green suit cut perfectly for her tall frame. Petunia tried to force herself free of the security's hands, until the woman stopped right in front of her.
"Where is Harry?" she asked, in a chilling voice.
That brought Petunia up short. "What did you do to my husband, you…" she started.
The blonde ignored her. "I asked where is Harry?"
Having no other option, she nodded towards the open door. "I-inside. Let me go, you oaf," she demanded of the security.
"Let her go, but keep them nearby," the other woman said, and the guard promptly released Petunia, who ran towards her hurt husband.
*****
Integra walked on in, taking the place all at once. It wasn't big and it seemed rather normal, if one didn't care much for taste. If not for the file she'd gotten from the investigators, she would never believe what the boy suffered with those people.
"Harry?" she called, her voice quite warm. "Harry Potter? I didn't come to harm you, my name is Integra…" she said, and she heard some banging and a voice calling. It came from nearby, and she soon found where from. There was a small door under the stairs, probably a cupboard of some sort. "Harry?" she called, not believing what her eyes were seeing. A tiny voice came from inside.
"Yes," he said.
Integra promptly unlatched the door, throwing it open. The small boy flinched with the sudden action, and her eyes hardened. Seeing her reaction, he backed up as much as possible in the cramped space. A small cot was the only furniture, if it could be called that, and it shared space with some odds and ends from the Dursleys.
The young woman realized that her actions were frightening him, so she controlled her highly volatile temper and tried to extract a smile, a rare action on her part, to give him.
"Hello, Harry," she said, kneeling on the floor. If anyone outside had seen either action, they'd probably be deemed mad. "I'm Integra," she said, extending her hand.
Harry flinched again, eyeing the hand with distrust.
"I know you don't know me," she continued, lowering the hand a bit, "but our fathers were friends."
That served to perk him up, and his eyes grew. "You knew my father?" he asked, his voice fearful, probably fearing this to be a lie.
"No, I did not, I was too young back then, but I know he was my godfather. Look, we have a lot of things to talk, but first I want to ask you something. Do you like it here?" she asked.
Harry's face traveled from fear through surprise until it settled on shame. He shook his head.
"What if I said I came to pick you up, that you'll never have to live with your relatives again?" Integra continued.
"You can do this?" he asked, eyes growing wide.
"I already did. All you have to do is come with me," she said, starting to stand up.
"No more Dudley o-or Uncle Vernon o-or Aunt Petunia?" he asked, hope growing in a heart with very little of it.
"No more," she said, hand once again stretched. While the conversation had a surreal touch to her, she couldn't do any different.
"You promise?" he pleaded.
"I promise," she said, and he finally grabbed her hand. "Anything you want to take with you?"
He shook his head once again.
"Ok, let's go."
*****
Petunia had Vernon in her arms, and the man was sweating buckets. His knee had been bandaged but they did nothing for the pain He'd have to go to a hospital immediately, but the men around them didn't seem inclined to let them go, not until that …woman released them.
A few moments later she came out of the house, holding hands with the freak, her face a cold mask of fury. She turned to the boy for a moment, and whispered something in his ear. The boy nodded and walked to the limo, giving one final look towards them. Petunia noticed that he looked…sad. A bodyguard opened the door and he walked on in, while the blonde came closer to them.
"I'm giving you until tomorrow to get out of my sight. After that, if you're still around, I'm sending my agent to deal with you."
Petunia didn't understand a thing, but seeing Vernon's condition, she simply nodded.
With that, the blonde entered the limo, and after a few moments, the motorcade was rolling down the street, leaving a broken man and his family behind.
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