Harry Potter and the Bird of Hermes

Obscurum_Venator

Rating: R
Genres: Action & Adventure, Horror
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 18/12/2009
Last Updated: 20/03/2010
Status: in_progress

In the name of God, impure souls of the living dead shall be banished into eternal damnation. Amen... HellsingxHP crossover

Chapters

1. A Fledgling's Fledgling

2. Aftermath, Training, and New Info

3. New Toys & New Threats

4. Vengeance and Millennium

5. Tragedy and Reunions

1. A Fledgling's Fledgling

A/N: After a full weekend of watching Hellsing: Ultimate, and rereading the entire manga, this idea has grabbed my mind and won't fucking let go, so here I go with my own vampire Harry story. One difference, though, he's a vampire under the control of the Royal Order of Protestant Knights. Two notes: 1. Imagine the Hellsing characters with their OVA actors' voices. 2. I might base a little of Harry's character on Zack Fair from Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, as both part homage and because he and Harry are similar in their heroic qualities. Oh, and, by the way, I know the “In the name of God...” prayer isn't in the manga, but it is badass, so I'll use it.

Time period: After Harry's fifth year and between Alucard and Seras's encounter with Anderson in Northern Ireland and the attack on Hellsing HQ.

Disclaimer (For the whole story): I own neither Hellsing, Harry Potter, or anything you recognize that I didn't create. Any lawyers who show up will be fed to Alucard.

Harry Potter & the Bird of Hermes

Chapter 1: A Fledgling's Fledgling

Harry Potter sat moping in the smallest room of Number 4 Privet Drive, his godfather had just been killed and it was all his bloody fault. He sighed and looked at his clock on the bedside table.

3:00 A.M. I can't sleep because of the nightmares, and I have no energy 'cause I can't sleep. Somehow, I don't think this is how Voldemort planned to kill me, but it's working, he thought bitterly. A sudden noise from down the hallway broke him out of his depressing thoughts, a muffled shout from his Uncle and Aunt's room. He retrieved his wand and crept to the door, cracking it just enough that he could see outside. He saw a half a dozen figures cloaked in black, and through the door of the master bedroom, he could see two of them latched onto the elder Dursleys' throats and covering their mouths, with another creeping towards Dudley's room. What the hell? he thought, as he quietly shut the door. He immediately went to his window and opened it. There's only one thing that would be that quiet and attack their necks like that... he left that disturbing thought unfinished as he dropped out of his window and landed in the shrubs.

---

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk with his head in his hands, thinking about all the things he'd done wrong with Harry. Placing him with Dursleys, not pushing for Sirius's trial, holding back the Prophecy. It was times like this that he thought was better off back in WWII where all he had to do was beat a Dark Lord and help Walter and Alucard take out that crazy SS Major. Trying to prepare a child for war was a hundred times harder than that, and it seemed that he'd done a poor job so far, letting his concern override the pressing need for Harry's training. Hell, even Walter, Alucard, and little Integra had been lecturing him over his bad judgment for years. His train of thought was derailed as the alarm for the wards around the Dursleys' house went off.

“No, they can't have broken in, unless...” Dumbledore rushed over to the alarm and breathed a sigh of relief. He'd programmed the thing to glow a different color for different threats, with an immediate warning for Tom's presence, and it confirmed that Voldemort was not present, but the relief was short lived, as the alarm switched from the general alert color to a deep blood red. “Vampires...” With that, he rushed to his fire place, threw some floo powder in, and said in a slightly anxious voice, “Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing.”

“Oh, Albus, to what do I owe the surprise?” the leader of the Royal Order of Protestant Knights asked as he put his head through the fireplace and it appeared in her office.

“Ah, hello, old man,” the Hellsing family vampire greeted as he, too, appeared in the room.

“No time for that, there are vampires at Harry's home, and I don't have any agents in the area right now. There was an attack last night and we are still cleaning up the mess,” Dumbledore told them. “Can you send Alucard?”

“Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, correct?” the vampire asked, remembering a conversation between his and Walter's former partner and his master.

“Yes, the alarm says six real vampires, not these Freaks you have been having trouble with. I can only imagine that Voldemort sent them. Turns out that vampires were not included in the original wards.”

“Very well, Albus. You've done so much for my family that I can hardly refuse, not to mention that I remember that boy and his parents. Good people cut down before their time. Alucard, take Seras and wipe them out.”

“As you wish, master,” the elder Nosferatu said as he vanished through a wall.

“Thank you, Integra.”

“Don't mention it, I'll even house Harry here until one of your men can pick him up.”

---

Harry hit the shrub and grunted in pain as the branches gave him more than a few scratches. “Not one of my better ideas,” Harry scolded himself as he disentangled himself from the brambles and took off running down the street. He looked around for an Order member, but remembered Dumbledore's warning that they were taking care of a recent attack and to be extra careful from today until they could spare the personnel to keep watch on his house. Great...alone against six vampires, after a solid week with no sleep.

At this point, the vamps seemed to have realized that he was no longer in the house because he heard several soft footfalls as they leapt out his open window and began to pursue him. “Shit,” he muttered as he ducked between two houses and dove into a bush for cover. He pointed his wand at the grass and muttered, “Glacius,” causing the grass to freeze over. He took off running again, and heard two of the vampires slip on his little trap, but a look over his shoulder revealed that the other four simply jumped over them and increased their pursuit speed. Remembering that no other form of light but sunlight could hurt or at least irritate them, but that their eyesight was very sensitive, he spun around and cried, “Lumos,” pouring as much power into the spell as he could manage, and produced a flood of light aimed for their eyes. They all recoiled and tried desperately to get the spots out of their vision before continuing after him, joined by their now recovered brothers.

“Just stop running, boy, there is no way you can escape,” the lead vampire growled.

“Sod off,” Harry called over his shoulder, looking around the adjacent street they'd come out on. “Shit,” he whispered as he saw nothing left to trip them up with. So, he did what he did best, he ran to one house's fence, put his back up against it, and raised his wand to face them.

“Where's that defiance now, boy,” the same vampire snarled, stopping just a few feet from Harry and pulling out a dagger. “Voldemort commanded us not to drink from you, so we'll just have to cut you to pieces, instead.”

---

“Master, what exactly are we doing?” Seras asked the elder Nosferatu as their helicopter took them to their target.

“A favor for an old friend. During WWII, Walter and I took down the SS's occult operations, and an old wizard who'd already defeated a powerful Dark Lord helping Hitler joined us in that operation. His name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of a school for young wizards and witches up in Scotland. Tonight, a group of vampires attacked a young boy, who happens to be very important in their world. Our orders are to go wipe them out, and bring the boy back to the Hellsing mansion. I met his parents once, they seemed like good people, and they certainly didn't deserve the end they met,” Alucard replied, his usual maniacal grin slipping a bit at the end.

“Wizards?” the police girl asked.

“You are a bloodsucking creature of the night, and the fact that there may be people out their to whom magic is as normal as water is surprising?” Alucard asked, his grin widening.

“When you put it that way...,” Seras said, looking a little sheepish. “So, what happened to his parents?”

“Murdered, cut down in their prime because of a coward's fear of death. Too bad I wasn't allowed to introduce him to the Reaper.”

“I can relate...”

“Try not to dwell on it, police girl,” Alucard said, “your past can destroy you as well as any weapon.”

“Yes, Master,” Seras replied as the chopper touched down on a residential street in Surrey.

“This is his house, but where is he?” Alucard asked, talking more to himself than Seras. He caught a whiff of blood and led his fledgling through a small path between two houses and onto an adjacent street. “Smell that, police girl?”

“Blood,” she replied simply, raising her rifle and aiming around the street.

“Don't bother, they fled when they heard the chopper, but not without doing some damage,” Alucard said, walking towards an unmoving body in the side yard of a house.

---

Harry had to admit that he'd had better days, those vampires had just shrugged his spells off, stolen his wand, and snapped it before he could really register what was going on. Then, they had begun stabbing and slashing at him, saying that Voldemort wanted him to suffer before he died. The lead vampire had been about to finish him with a stab to the heart, when the whirring of helicopter blades had scared them off, muttering something about “Hellsing”. Then, he heard voices, one deep and male, the other light and female, and after a while two figures stepped into view. The first was a very tall man dressed Victorian style with a large, wide-brimmed hat and a pair of yellow-lensed sunglasses that seemed to shine even with his face covered in shadow. The other was a younger, blonde girl dressed in a yellow uniform and carrying one of the biggest rifles he'd ever seen like it was made of plastic.

“Oh, no. We were too late,” the girl cried, dropping the gun and kneeling next to him.

“It appears so, police girl.”

“Is he too far gone, master? Is there anything we can do?”

“No medicine or spell can repair the damage done.”

“Can't you turn him? At least he'll still be around, if even as a vampire.”

“I cannot, police girl, but you can. A vampire and virgin of the opposite sex, remember?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Remember that it's his choice, maybe he wants to die. To get away from his fame, to see his parents. I offered you the choice and you accepted, police girl, but not everyone is you.”

“O-okay,” Seras stammered, and looked down at the boy. “How bad do you want to live?”

It would be nice to see Mum, Dad, and Sirius again, but could I really abandon all my friends? An image of all his friends at school came to mind, then the Weasleys, and, finally, Hermione, and then he remembered the Prophecy. Dying was tantamount to killing all of them. “I can't a-abandon them, I-I can't abandon h-her. I d-don't care if I'm a v-vampire or not, if y-you can make it so I w-won't have to just leave them t-to die, do it,” Harry struggled to say, staring straight into the woman's blue eyes.

“You're a virgin, then?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, his vision starting to black out. Seras, reluctantly, leaned over the boy's neck, hovering her fangs over the pale flesh there for a second before her vampiric bloodlust took over, turning her eyes red and removing any hesitation from her. Harry winced as he felt her fangs pierce his neck, and he could all but feel his blood flowing out of his body. Soon after lapsed into unconsciousness.

Alucard grinned, satisfied that his fledgling would be a little stronger for the blood she'd consumed and that he boy would turn successfully. Integra and the old man might not be thrilled, but at least he wasn't the bury-in-the-ground kind of dead. He looked towards the moon, “Reminds me of that night in Cheddar, and just like then, it truly is a beautiful night.”

---

A/N: Please leave some feedback, hope you liked it. There's a deeper reason why Dumbledore couldn't rescue Harry, but I won't spoil it.

-Sypher Kyaeon

2. Aftermath, Training, and New Info

A/N:I'm glad you guys enjoy it so far. Also, there's a poll up on my profile over Hermione's fate. By the way, there's no dark motives to Dumbledore in this one, no manipulations, just a regretful old man who's going to start making it up to Harry. I mean, do you really think Dumbledore the master manipulator from the books could actually maintain a friendship with Integra, Alucard, and Walter? Get ready for more polls, too, regarding characters like Snape and Draco. I've already formed ideas and opinions, but input from the people reading is one of the wonderful things about Fanfiction, it can be nigh-instantaneous. Sorry if I overuse the word “master”, but you Hellsing fans are used to it, I'm sure.

Thoughts

Master/Fledgling Mindspeak

Harry Potter and the Bird of Hermes

Chapter 2: Aftermath, Training, and New Info

Harry awoke feeling better than he had in weeks. Finally, dreamless sleep, he thought, glad that all the damn nightmares had fled for at least one night. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, but froze when the heel of his palm ran over where his scar should be. He didn't feel the usual slight protrusion of scar tissue, just a plane of smooth skin. He looked around the unfamiliar, stone room frantically, not willing to believe that his scar was truly gone. He saw a full length mirror on one wall and rushed over to it, barely noticing the fact that he was clothed only in a pair of pajama pants until he got his first look at himself in the mirror.

“What the bloody hell?” he questioned his own sanity as he stared at his reflection. Without a shirt, he could clearly see that he'd gone through some changes. His torso, while it had had some light definition from playing Quidditch, was now clearly defined showing some definite muscle, his shoulders had broadened a bit and he'd grown a few inches. The biggest change he noted, however, was that he had indeed lost the scar. His forehead was completely blank. “It's really gone...”

“A connection like that cannot be maintained between a wizard and a vampire. It requires a living wizard on both sides. Your new vampiric nature explains the change in your body, as well, fixing years of malnutrition and abuse,” Harry heard a deep, male voice speak from behind him, and saw the tall man dressed in red from the night before reflected in the mirror The guy from last night? Last thing I remember is that girl biting me... Harry thought, then caught a glimpse of an elongated canine in the mirror. “Oh, shit, I really am a vampire.”

“Yeah, you are, Harry. Sorry...it was the only way to save you,” another, female, voice spoke, sounding ashamed of herself. He turned and saw the woman from the night before, her head down to match the shame in her voice.

“It's not your fault, I mean, I'm still here, right, master?” Harry said, a reassuring grin upon his face, which turned to confusion after a moment. “Did I just call you 'master'?”

“Yes, and you will continue to do so until you drink the police girl's blood. It is only natural for a vampire to acknowledge his or her sire as 'master' until they are powerful enough to stand on their own, and, as her sire, you will afford me the same courtesy,” Alucard replied for her, his voice commanding and leaving no room for argument.

“Yes, master,” Harry said.

“Now, get dressed and follow the police girl up to Integra's office. She and your Headmaster wish to speak with you,” Alucard said, vanishing through a nearby wall and leaving Harry to gawk at the blank expanse of stone that showed no sign of his passage.

“You get used to it, Harry. It's not like it's the weirdest thing to ever happen to you,” Seras said, a grin on her face. “I think that huge snake beats a vampire walking through a wall.”

“How do you know about the basilisk?” Harry asked, walking over to a pile of clothes left out for him, a simple pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of sneakers.

“I have all of your memories. Master said that it's because memories are contained in your blood, and I drank your blood, so...” she replied, turning around to let Harry dress.

“All my memories?”

“Yes, and I plan on laying into your headmaster for leaving you with those terrible people when we see him.”

“You don't have to do that, I've made my peace.”

“That's hard to believe.”

“Yeah, well I had plenty of time to think while those vampires were trying their best to slice me to pieces. Dumbledore made a mistake that he's already apologized for, and holding a grudge will just make life harder for everyone involved.”

“That's very mature for a fifteen year old.”

“Well, I've never been normal.”

“And...Sirius?”

“He wouldn't have wanted me to mope around forever,” Harry said. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah.”

---

“So, you really don't mind?” Integra asked Dumbledore, not really willing to believe that he had no problems with Harry's “situation.” She'd certainly let Alucard have it for not being faster and for letting Seras turn him, but Alucard had merely laughed and asked if she'd rather he'd left Harry there to bleed out. It had been hours since then, and she still hadn't thought of anything to say to that.

“I can't say that I'm thrilled with it, but I've always sought to protect Harry. Is there any place safer than under the protection of Alucard?” Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling a bit. “I was going to have him come here later in the summer, anyways, to see if you'd train him in the sword, this just cuts out the magical training before that.”

“Sword training?” Integra asked. “Why on Earth would you want a wizard trained with a blade?”

“If you knew more about our world, you'd know that a woefully large number of wizards have little to no experience in close range combat, and that's just instinctual at best. While this may be an advantage against his Death Eaters, Voldemort himself is an accomplished swordsman, and I've already explained to you Harry's role in our world at present. Any other contacts I have with better swordsman are pretty much useless now, as most would be unwilling to teach a vampire. Will you do it, Integra?”

“Of course, Albus,” Integra assured him as the door opened and her new vampire/student walked in, accompanied by Seras.

“Hello, Headmaster, and you must be Sir Integra,” Harry greeted.

“Good to meet you, Harry. Welcome to the Hellsing Organization,” she replied.

“Good to see you in one piece, my boy,” Dumbledore said, a warm smile upon his face. “You are Seras Victoria, I presume?”

“Yes,” Seras replied, wondering what he was going to do to her for turning Harry.

“While I'm not exactly happy that one of my favorite students is now technically dead, I'm glad that, thanks to you, I won't have to bury him or tell his friends that they'll never see him again. Thank you, Seras.”

“Uh...you're welcome,” she said awkwardly. She hadn't expected gratitude.

“Well, I guess I won't be staying with the Order or going to Hogwarts anymore?” Harry asked.

“No, you will reside here in the manor, and, since, as a vampire, you have no magic, further schooling will not be required. I will, at Albus's request, be training you in the use of a sword and, in addition, you shall go through the same required firearms and physical training as every other member of Hellsing. We'll make a vampire hunter out of you, or kill you trying, any questions?” Integra replied, a sarcastic grin on her face daring him to question her.

“No, ma'am,” Harry said.

“Good, and if you're a nice little pet vampire, then I'll let you go visit your friends.”

“Until then,” Dumbledore said, rolling his eyes a little at Integra, “I'll tell them I've taken you somewhere to train. Miss Granger, of course, shall question me at every turn, so you'll have that to deal with when you see them again.”

“Great, a pissed off Hermione,” Harry said, trying to block out images of the unpleasant things his best female friend would do to him when she found out he was letting Dumbledore lie to her.

“Well then, shall we get started?” Integra asked, grinning as she rose from her chair and drew the rapier that she always kept near her desk.

Three Weeks Later (A/N: about a week before Harry's birthday)

Just outside a graveyard in rural England, Harry was leaning against a tree, waiting for the signal from his master. In just a few short weeks under Integra's tutelage, more like she'd given him a blade and told him to defend himself, he'd become much stronger and faster, and had even beat her a few times. The blade he used now was a large claymore, which he wielded easily in one hand and whose size he was able to use to his advantage, crushing any enemies' defenses with strong blows. He'd let his hair grow out a bit, just brushing the tops of his shoulder blades, and now had an X-shaped scar just above the left side of his jaw. He was wearing a jacket made of dark, blood red leather, the lining and collar were coated with black fur, and it had the Hellsing Organization shield outlined on the back in white. Said jacket also served as his sword's “sheath”, with a weave of superstrong, flat magnets activated by a small button in the left sleeve, holding the blade to his back. Under that he wore a black, long sleeved shirt and a pair of black, leather gloves. A pair of baggy, black pants, which instead of a top button had a pair of belts, and black boots completed the outfit. Also, on each thigh was strapped a holster containing a .45 pistol. Alucard and Seras had taught him how to use those, well, mostly Seras with a few sarcastic comments here and there by her master.

Okay, there is a small horde of ghouls protecting three vampires at the center of the graveyard, next to that large angel statue, Seras's voice sounded in Harry's mind. Harry looked towards the graveyard and saw the statue in question. I'll clear you a path through the zombies.

Gotcha, master, Harry sent back, drawing his blade, deactivating the magnets and quickly grabbing the hilt, and getting ready to run as high-powered rifle shots began to rain down on the graveyard.

Now! Seras called. Harry shot forward, leaping over the graveyard's fence and straight through the ghouls. The first vampire had barely turned his way before he'd skewered it through the heart on his blessed, silver blade. He shifted his hand around the hilt and tore it out through the vampire's head, pivoting and drawing a pistol as the body fell. He turned the second bloodsucker into Swiss cheese, making sure at least two shots hit both heart and head. Holstering his pistol, he flicked his blade to the side, sending blood flying from it. He nearly dropped it, though, as he locked eyes with the last vampire. It was the one who'd lead the attack on Privet Drive.

“Heh, do you really think I'll be as easy?” he growled, drawing the same dagger that had nearly killed Harry.

“Yeah, actually,” Harry shot back, a maniacal grin splitting his face, as his eyes turned red, bloodlust overcoming him at the thought of being able to decapitate this particular vampire. He seemed slightly taken aback by Harry's sudden change, but brushed it off as best he could and charged. Harry simply caught the dagger in one hand and stabbed him through the stomach with the other. This guy was probably ordered to attack me by Voldemort personally. You think he might know something useful, master?

Maybe.

Should I 'extract' it?

Only if you're okay with it, I'm not going to make you drink from anyone you don't want to.

“Alright, say 'good night',” Harry told his prey, grinning before slamming his fangs into the vampire's throat. The rush of memories nearly made him keel over, but then he saw the vampire bowing before Voldemort and knew that he'd gotten something good. He pulled away from his neck, and pulled his sword from his gut. The vampire fell to his knees, and Harry sent his head flying with another swing. Okay, master, all done here, got the ghouls taken care of?

Yep, join me up here and the chopper will take us back to the manor.

Okay, Harry replied, sheathing his blade and running towards the church. A few minutes later, they were well on their way back towards London, and Harry was reviewing the memories he'd acquired with Seras's help. He got to the meeting after his attack, but didn't see anything unusual or out of the ordinary except the group of vampires. That is, not until the vamp had been leaving. Another group of people had entered the room then, a short, fat man wearing all white with more insanity showing in his eyes that Harry thought humanly possible, a strange blonde-haired man with multi-lensed glasses and a bloodstained lab coat, and, finally, a tall man wearing a brown coat with the collar covering half his face.

“Ah, Herr Voldemort, how nice to finally meet you,” the fat man had said, a disturbing smile on his face, as the light reflected off his glasses.

---

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. Sorry if it was rushed or sucked, I promise the Valentine brothers' attack will be much better.

Poll: (for Portkey users) Should Hermione be turned and how?

1. No, keep her human.

2. Yes, have her nearly die like Seras and Harry, then have Harry turn her.

3. Yes, have her nearly die while no one but Alucard is nearby and have him turn her.

4. Yes, have Hermione ask Harry to turn her after they get together.

5. Yes, have Harry ask Hermione to become a vampire to protect her.

6. Yes, have Harry drink her blood during the final battle in a situation like Seras and Pip.

-Sypher Kyaeon

3. New Toys & New Threats

A/N: I'm glad you guys have enjoyed so far. For those of you who are going to inform me that I'm ignoring the Wizarding World: I'll have Harry visit while Integra's meeting with Enrico “Shithead” Maxwell. I'll even give you some HHr that hopefully won't suck. In addition, I'll try to address some of the inconsistencies you guys find with Harry and Dumbledore. Also, I must do some shameless plugging for one of my favorite bands. Go listen to Eyeshine, they are an awesome band with Johnny Yong Bosch (Nero in DMC4, Ichigo Kurosaki in Bleach, Kiba in Wolf's Rain, etc...) as their frontman, and they fucking rock! Just so you guys know, even though both Harry and Seras have consumed blood, neither does it on a regular basis, so all of the plot points about Seras clinging to her humanity still apply.

Disclaimer corollary: I don't own the basic design of either Ebony & Ivory or Rebellion (Dante's sword and guns from Devil May Cry). If you're wondering about their inclusion, I have no imagination when it comes to weapons and they fit with Harry's fighting style, which is based on Dante's: quick, brutal, stylish, and involving timing that would make a physicist go cross-eyed. If you're wondering about how I define the other characters in a fight. Alucard: toys with opponents, finishes in gory yet stylish manner, usually with a one-liner. Seras: sniper and when in close range, brawler. Walter: his nickname, Angel of Death, says it all, quick, violent, and efficient.

Pics of Rebellion and Ebony & Ivory: picasaweb(dot)google(dot)com(slash)SypherKyaeon

Info on Ebony & Ivory: devilmaycry(dot)wikia(dot)com(slash)wiki(slash)Ebony_%26_Ivory (Note that I left out the women's pictures on the grips)

If you want pics of Alucard's pistols or the Harkonnen, feel free to ask.

Harry Potter and the Bird of Hermes

Chapter 3: New Toys & New Threats

At the top level of Hellsing HQ, the Convention of Twelve met. They were the nobles, military leaders, and powerful politicians that ran England in secret. Their decisions affected every life in the country, and Integra wasn't looking forward to telling her fellow members that someone had been flooding their land with vampires.

“Sir Integral, why have we been called here? Have you finally found something?” Sir Hugh Islands, sitting opposite Integra at the other end of the large, rectangular table, asked.

“Please tell me you've found a way to stop these vampire attacks, there's a limit to the amount of information we can suppress and sooner or later the press is going to find something out,” another member of the Round Table said.

“After researching this recent surge in vampiric attacks, this is what we've found,” Integra replied, holding up a small microchip.

“W-What is that?” Admiral Shelby Penwood, an old friend of Integra and her father before her, asked.

“A small chip that we found implanted in a few of the vampires' bodies. It monitors their condition, movements, mental status, and combat readiness,” Integra answered.

“W-WHAT!?” Penwood shouted, he'd always been a bit of a...fearful man.

“Furthermore, all the recent attacks, save two, have involved implanted vampires like these and none has been an accident. Someone is pulling the strings.”

“What were the other two?” Sir Islands asked, always a man to pick up on subtleties like that and never one to get riled up.

“The attack on one Harry James Potter three weeks prior, and a gathering of ghouls in a graveyard two nights ago. We believe that the the vampires involved were gathering the ghouls to attack a nearby town. The one leading that was the very same vampire who attacked the boy. Harry was able to 'extract' some information, but it's not much. Just that a group of three unusual people were meeting with the wizards' so called Dark Lord, and that the only one he heard speak did so with a thick German accent, going so far as to refer to the snake as Herr Voldemort.”

“German? Interesting, but not important at the moment, it's their problem,” another member of the Round Table spoke, obvious disdain for the magical folk present in his voice. “How are things going with the boy, anyway? I heard your pet vampire's fledgling turned him.”

“That is true, but of no consequence at the moment,” Integra replied, glaring at the man. “There's is something else about these vampires. Normally, ghouls are only created when the unchaste are fed upon, but every victim, even small children, has been transformed into a ghoul. In addition, these ghouls do not die when their master has fallen, as is usually the case. Take that incident in Northern Ireland with Father Anderson, he'd already arrived and slain the vampire long before we got there, but there were still more than a few ghouls lingering.”

---

“WALTER!” Seras screamed, probably waking every dead person within a few miles.

“Yes, Miss Victoria?” the aging butler asked, curious as to what was wrong.

“What the hell is that?!” Seras asked, pointing to a hexagonal wooden coffin sitting where her bed used to.

“That's a coffin,” Walter replied, a smile on his face.

“I know it's a coffin, but why the hell is my bed gone!?” Seras all but growled at his fake innocence.

“Sir Integra's orders, I believe she said something like 'how can a vampire not sleep in a coffin'?” Walter replied, that smile still in place. Seras very much wanted to punt it off.

“Where's my bed?”

“It's been disposed of, of course.”

“WHAT!?”

“Furthermore, and this is from Alucard, since you refuse to drink blood on a regular basis, you must sleep in a coffin filled with the soil of your birthplace or continue to get weaker and weaker. Why will you not simply drink the blood? If you prefer not to kill, we have plenty of medical blood.”

“I-I'm not sure, I just feel like...if I do that I'll lose some part of myself forever,” Seras muttered, and Walter sighed.

“Idiot,” Alucard said, walking in through the room's door for once.

“M-Master.”

“If that's how you feel, why did you let me drink from you in the first place? You could've died human. Listen, once you're a vampire, there is no reclaiming your humanity. The night is your home now, police girl,” Alucard said, sighing, “but there's always a vampire like you every now and then. I'm not really that concerned, they all come around eventually. Where's the mage boy, by the way? I heard he found out something interesting.”

“Mr. Potter is still asleep, but might I suggest we adjourn to his room? I was going to wake him up when Miss Victoria started ranting,” Walter replied, earning a glare from Seras that he ignored. He grinned, “I've got gifts.”

They entered Harry's room a few moments later; it was the same room he'd been placed in just after his turning, with a full-length mirror on one wall, a dresser on another, and a large bed that Seras wanted very much to set on fire. If she couldn't have a bed, neither could he, and she made a note to tell Walter just that later. For the time being she'd just have to make due with a rude awakening, which was easily accomplished by going into his bathroom, filling a cup with ice-cold water, and throwing it in his face, “WAKE UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!”

Harry didn't react quite like she'd expected. He snatched one of his .45s from underneath his pillow, and rolled out of the bed on the opposite side from her, landing in a crouch and bracing his arm on the mattress, lining up a shot at her forehead. “Master?”

“Nice reaction time, mage boy,” Alucard said, chuckling at the dumbstruck expression on his fledgling's face. “Were you always this paranoid, or did the police girl mess up your change somehow?”

“Uh...lingering influence from an even more paranoid old wizard. So, what brings you all to my room besides my master wanting to torment me because Walter torched her bed?”

“Did everyone know about this before me?” Seras cried, exasperated.

“Pretty much,” Walter replied. He walked over to the dresser and walked back with a small attache case, which he handed to Alucard. Alucard opened it and, upon catching sight of the contents, let a wide grin split his face. “May I present the Jackal, a custom 13 mm. Anti-Freak combat pistol,” Walter said as Alucard drew the gun from the case, revealing a large, black pistol with the words 'Jesus Christ is in Heaven now' written across the side in a flowing, cursive style script. As Alucard handed the case back to Walter and slammed the magazine that had been in it home, Walter continued, “39 cm. (almost 1' 4”) long, 16 kg. (35.2 lbs.) in weight, 6 round magazine. More firepower than any human could hope to handle.”

“The rounds?” Alucard asked, admiring Walter's workmanship as Harry and Seras both stared open-mouthed at the firearm.

“13mm explosive shells.”

“Casings?”

“Pure Macedonian silver.”

“And the tips? Explosive or mercury?”

“Mercury, and already blessed.”

“Perfection, Walter. Pure perfection.”

“I'm pleased that you're pleased, sir.”

“I bet this baby could stop even that Judas priest,” Alucard said, as Harry and Seras both began circling him, trying to take in the gun in from every angle while shouting things like 'That's amazing'.

“I have something special for you as well, Miss Victoria,” Walter said, retrieving a much larger case from next to the dresser. He opened it and Harry and Seras's eyes both nearly popped out of their heads.

He was holding what looked like a bloody MASSIVE anti-tank rifle. “The Harkonnen, a 30mm Anti-Freak cannon. Designed to be used with both depleted uranium shells and exploding incendiary rounds, this weapon will destroy all but the most heavily armored of targets.”

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?” Seras screamed.

“Holy shit, that thing could probably drill a hole straight through the armor on our APCs,” Harry said, staring at the rifle and imagining one of said APCs rocking the 'Swiss cheese' look.

“Miss Victoria, before you go on another rant, might I remind you that you are a vampire and could probably shoulder fire a Howitzer if you so desired.”

“Wha...oh, right. Well, I guess I'll at least try it before I decide I hate it,” she replied, trying to ignore the vampiric side of her mind that was filling with images of enemies being blown apart and set on fire.

“I have an upgrade for you, too, Mr. Potter,” with that he retrieved a third case and placed it on Harry's bed. Harry opened it and had a similar reaction to Alucard, total adoration. Inside was a large claymore, flanked on either side by a pistol. He decided to take it one at a time. He first lifted the white pistol, admiring the gold plated magazine release, hammer, safety switch, and trigger, and noticing that, by the ejection port's position, it was meant for use in his right hand. Engraved on one side in gold was 'Hellsing Arms .45 ACP E&I', and on the other side 'Ebony & Ivory'. The black pistol was identical except for the color and a few minor technical differences (A/N: See the DMC Wiki article I listed at the top for a full list), and settled into his hand more firmly. “Ebony & Ivory, a heavily customized pair of your favored Colt M1911s. Ivory is specially designed to allow for a faster draw and rapid fire, Ebony, to allow for a tighter, more comfortable grip for longer range shots. Double stacked, slam-pad magazines and pre-blessed silver bullets complete the package.”

“Walter, I could hug you right now. What about the sword?” Harry asked, turning his gaze towards the large blade, sporting a ribcage crossguard with a roaring skull resting atop it and two hexagonal, pillar like 'arms'. The handle had the same design as the arms, and formed into a 'flower' of spikes at the pommel.

“Our blacksmith has dubbed it Rebellion, and it features the usual accoutrements: blade made from melted down silver crosses and reinforced to the point of being almost indestructible, handle designed to sit comfortably in the hand and balanced to deliver maximum leverage for your swings, and, last but not least, the spikes on the pommel are also made of blessed silver.”

“Forget hugging you, I'm starting a religion with you as the figurehead,” Harry said, taking a few test swings and loving the sound of the blade slicing through the air.

---

Antonin Dolohov, while not happy with his current whereabouts walking towards Hellsing HQ with Jan (pronounced Yan) Valentine incessantly babbling on about some man with a plexiglass plate in his head and cussing more than any one person had a right to, was very pleased with his lot in life at the moment. When Voldemort had announced his partnership with the Major and asked for volunteers from his Inner Circle to become the Doctor's first wizard test subjects, he had willingly stepped forward with the mindset that he was helping his old friend cement his deal with a new ally, and that he was just as afraid of dying as said friend. Now he was a vampire, his body restored to a more youthful and far more powerful form; forget magic, the power the Doctor had conferred upon him was amazing.

“Hey, you're not allowed here,” a guard bellowed as they came to a stop in front of the manor's gates.

“Oh, I'm terribly sorry, we're on a sightseeing tour of famous English estates,” Luke replied, ever poised and in control.

“Are you saying this place isn't open to the public?” Jan asked sarcastically.

“This is private property, leave...NOW!” the other guard said, his tone commanding.

“Sorry to bother you,” Dolohov said and all three stepped to the side as Luke snapped his fingers. Moments later, the guard that had just yelled spontaneously developed a new hole in his head and dropped to the ground in a pool of his own blood. The other guard looked over confused, then horrified, and then caught sight of a very large amount of gun barrels pointed out the sides of the buses just down the road.

“He looks kinda queasy,” Jan said and his dark sense of humor brought a sick smile to both his brother's and the Death Eater's faces.

“Yes, maybe he should lie down for a bit,” Luke replied, staring straight into the very frightened guard's eyes as he continued the joke.

“Alright, then,” Jan said and repeated his brother's finger snap. All the ghouls on both buses instantly opened fire, shredding the guard nearly to pieces as submachine gun rounds poured downrange. “Hold your fire,” they didn't stop. “I said, 'HOLD YOUR FUCKING FIRE!'” Jan yelled, finally getting the glorified zombies to halt their lead rain. “Jesus Christ, bro, these guys are completely fucking stupid, are you sure about this shit?”

Luke laughed, “This is just a test, a completely ordinary, insignificant test. We are but one small part of the grand masterpiece the Major is painting.”

“Fine, whatever.”

“Let's say we have some fun, eh?” Dolohov asked, earning grins from both brothers as he snapped. The ghouls began to march out of the buses. They were clad in tactical armor and carrying SMGs and metal riot shields emblazoned with the same eye that was on Jan's cap along with the nonsense phrase 'Boodoo people, murder people'. They came to a halt in front of the three vampires and snapped to attention.

“Alright, maggots, you know the drill. Kill everything that moves, and then eat it for good measure. If you run into Alucard or the queen bitch of Hellsing, do not stop until they are dead, dead, DEAD!” Jan shouted to make sure all the ghouls heard and understood. He then pulled out his twin, customized FN P90s and they all began their march on the Royal Order of Protestant Knights.

---

A/N: Harry drank blood just two days ago. He's good for another few days without a coffin, and Harry knowing about Seras's bed was purely for comedic purposes, if you were wondering. Hope you like it, and I'm sorry if you were expecting more action. The next chapter will be nothing but. As for my absence, nothing more than my gaming habit taking over for awhile. First it was Mass Effect, which I played through again to make sure everything was how I wanted it for ME2. Then it was a strange and massive obsession with killing zombies in Left 4 Dead 2, and then I rented Bayonetta. That is an amazing game from the same guy who did Devil May Cry, which I'm obviously a big fan of, and Viewtiful Joe. The main character is, quite frankly, one of the sexiest game babes on the planet. It's a good thing I did, too, because I know now what weapons I want to give Hermione. Those of you who've played it or go look it up, Scarborough Fair is all I'm going to use, nothing else. Those of you who have played it, should I use the full set of 4 or just stick with the handguns?

- Sypher Kyaeon

4. Vengeance and Millennium

A/N: How's everyone doing? Ready for some blood, gore, and grey matter to get splattered? Yes, then LET'S GET THINGS STARTED! GUNDAM FIGHT ALL SET! READY? GO! Wait, wrong anime. Sorry, couldn't resist. I know some of you may be asking yourselves how exactly a bunch of vampires were able to nearly stab Harry to death with the Prophecy hanging over his head, but the Prophecy isn't as airtight as you might think. First, those vampires were acting as Voldemort's “hand”. Second, Harry would have just bled out on his own, and the Prophecy doesn't really restrict Harry from dying cause his body can't get the oxygen it needs due to his blood all being on the outside. Finally, I've never bought into the idea that the Prophecy makes either of them invincible. If that were the case, then why doesn't Voldemort just put Harry in stasis or something, preserving his invincibility while getting Harry out of the way? Anyone who thinks Harry is a bit vicious in this chapter, he's part of Alucard's twisted little “family” now, remember how crazy Seras can get while under the influence of the bloodlust.

Warning: I'm assuming a decent knowledge of the Hellsing manga/OVA from this point on. I'm going to skip around a little to highlight what is different instead of focusing on what is the same.

Harry Potter and the Bird of Hermes

Chapter 4: Vengeance and Millennium

As Integra was about to finish her report, just a few details, the lights suddenly flickered for a moment and the intercom at her end of the table began to crackle. It took a few seconds before a voice finally broke through the static.

“Sir Integra, we're under attack at the front entrance. Enemy is well equipped and...” he broke off, presumably to fire his weapon since rifle fire echoed throughout the room a moment later.

“Officer, who are we fighting? I need details,” Integra shouted through the intercom.

“Oh, God...ghouls, the enemy are ghouls, ma'am. They have armor and riot shields,” the Officer reported, fear strangling his voice. Every member of the Convention stared at the intercom with differing degrees of horror etched on their faces.

“Hold out as long as you can,” Integra said, her voice clearly indicating that she didn't want to have to doom her men, but that she had to make a choice.

“Yes, ma'am,” the soldier replied, his voice resigned but determined.

“First priority is our evacuation, ghoul army or not. Sir Integral, can your men clear a path to the heliport?” Sir Islands asked, his unflappable expression remaining firmly in place. His question was answered a moment later by a large explosion.

“What was that?” Sir Penwood asked, looking like he was on the verge of shitting himself.

“I'm afraid that was the heliport, Admiral,” the soldier replied.

“Our enemies have planned this attack very well. Damn,” Integra growled.

“Ma'am, I'm afraid we can't hold this position for much longer,” there was the sound of gunfire and crashing over the intercom. “We're being overrun,” after that, more gunfire and the Officer's voice devolved into hysterical screaming that was cut off a second later.

“Officer? Officer, report!” Integra yelled.

“Hello, this thing on? Alright, this is message is going out to the Round Table conference, with a very special shout out to the queen bitch herself, Miss Hellsing. Your ass is currently being hand-delivered on a silver platter by the Valentine brothers,” a slightly manic voice sounded from the table's speaker.

“What the hell am I, minced guard?” Another voice asked, deeper than the first.

“No, that's lunch. Allow me to correct myself, the Valentine brothers featuring a special guest from Voldemort's little private army. My name is Jan Valentine, and I'm so looking forward to meeting all of you. We'll get acquainted after me and the men finish up lunch. Thanks for the meal, by the way,” Jan said, a manic grin that the Round Table couldn't see splitting his face. Integra growled and her hand involuntarily clenched around her cigar, snapping it in two. “I'm really looking forward to seeing you all dead, I wanna hear you cry and beg for mercy. In the meantime, I highly recommend pissing yourselves, followed by a course of praying to your impotent God, but, hey, there's always time to man-up and kill yourselves. Thank you London, good night!” This was followed by a pair of bone-chilling laughs echoing from the small speaker as Integra bit her lip in anger so hard she drew blood.

---

Harry growled as he let loose a hail of bullets from Ebony & Ivory, shredding ghouls to pieces as they fed on the corpses of men he'd become friends with. Assholes. What gives you the right to fucking invade our home and start killing people? He thought furiously as he pulled Rebellion from his back and deflected a round of SMG fire. Moving quicker than these ghouls could hope to, he sped forward and cut them down. After Jan's demented little speech, Integra had contacted the vampires and Walter down in his room. Walter had come up with the plan they were now executing, he and Alucard would mop up the ghouls on their way to the conference room from the sub-basement, and Walter and his master would go directly there through the ventilation system. Alucard had, of course, gone off on his own as soon as they'd left, grinning at him and saying, “It's just a few ghouls, mage boy, you can handle it. I've got bigger fish to fry.” Pffht...typical. Go off and leave me with all the nitty-gritty work.

Harry had soon made his way to the second floor, easily picking off the small groups of stragglers that had been between him and killing the prick who'd spoken over the intercom. Turning a corner, he met with the strange sight of a man dressed in a black robe standing amidst a pile of corpses, casually drinking blood from a decapitated head. “Ever heard of a glass?” Harry asked sarcastically, lining up Ebony for a good shot at his head.

“I prefer it fresh,” the man said, an insane look in his eyes.

“Right, just for that, I'm skipping the banter and moving on to the part where I put a hole in your forehead,” Harry said, squeezing off a shot only to be surprised when the man dodged it. “Hmm, not just any old Freak, then.”

“Right you are, Mr. Potter,” He replied and Harry gave him a strange look. “Wondering how I know who you are? I'm very knowledgeable about you and your magical friends, after all, it pays to know one's enemy,” he said, rolling up his left sleeve and showing Harry the Dark Mark still burned into the skin there.

“So, you're a Death Eater turned vampire. Anyone important?”

“Maybe just to you and that little mudblood bitch of yours.”

Harry took a good, long look at the Death Eater's face, suddenly his eyes widened in realization. He looked a little younger, but it was definitely...“Dolohov.”

“Right you are,” he replied, a grin on his face as Harry growled and his eyes burned red. “Aw, still mad over that little curse I threw at her?”

“Die!” Harry roared, holstering his guns, drawing his blade, and charging the Death Eater. He feinted left before sweeping around to the right, aiming a wide, horizontal slash at the man's midsection. It was blocked by a short sword as its twin was directed towards Harry's neck. Holding back the first with one hand, Harry drew Ebony and blocked the slash.

“Very good, seems you've had some practice,” Dolohov said and, with a grunt of exertion, pushed Harry back.

“I had a good teacher,” Harry said as he and the older man locked blades again. Harry let his knees buckle a bit before backflipping and delivering a vicious kick to Dolohov's chin. As he landed, Harry whipped out Ivory and popped of a quick volley of shots, which nailed the Death eater in the stomach. Blood spurted and Harry grinned. His little celebration was short-lived, however, as Dolohov recovered quickly and let fly a flurry of attacks coming from all directions and throwing Harry off guard. With a quick feint, Dolohov slipped past Harry's guard and sliced him across the chest. Harry hissed in pain and used his blades superior reach to make Dolohov back off.

“Sloppy,” the Death Eater mockingly admonished as he once again closed in on Harry. Thinking fast, Harry threw his blade as hard as he could right at Dolohov, or so the other man thought. It sailed right past, just barely grazing the left side of Dolohov's chest before implanting in the wall. Dolohov just stood and laughed at Harry's terrible aim for a second, but that was all Harry needed. He charged forward and delivered a mighty thrust kick to his chest, throwing him backwards. Dolohov felt the sharp, blessed tips of Rebellion's pommel enter his back and a moment later watched in horror as it emerged from his chest. Not skipping beat, Harry was on him in a second, pinning his wrists to the wall with the barrels of Ebony & Ivory.

“How's that feel? Not very good, I imagine. Now, I'll ask you a simple question, since when does Voldemort have vampire Death Eaters?” Harry asked, his red eyes boring into Dolohov's.

“All I'll say is that we have powerful friends now.”

“Really? No details that might keep me from killing you in the most painful manner I can imagine?” Harry punctuated his question by squeezing both guns' triggers at the same time, blowing Dolohov's wrists apart. He then moved them up to his elbows.

“Even if I wanted to tell you anything, do you really think they'd let me? The second I start running my mouth, I'm dead.”

“Wrong answer,” two trigger pulls, two obliterated elbows. Harry moved Ebony & Ivory level with his shoulders this time.

“Fuck you, Potter. Tell me, did that little whore of yours ever recover? Does she still scream at night thinking of the big, bad Death Eater who almost killed her?”

Harry growled and did away with his shoulders. “Give me something useful, goddammit.”

“I have nothing more to say to you,” Dolohov spat. Harry snarled and twisted Rebellion around until the blade was vertical. Then, with a grunt of exertion, swung the blade out through the Death Eater's head.

“Worthless piece of shit,” he shot back, spitting on the corpse that was now split in half from just below the middle of its chest to the top of its head. Harry swung his blade to the side, throwing blood off it, and put it on his back before moving on, At least I'll have some good news for Mione when I see her again.

---

Alucard let out a deep laugh, this was actually getting fun. He and the elder Valentine brother, Luke, had been exchanging fire for a few moments and he'd actually been able to dodge most of Alucard's shots. He felt his own blood pour from where Luke had hit him, then again...he hadn't even been trying to move, it was only a few gunshot wounds, nothing he couldn't handle. “Yes, excellent, I haven't had this much fun in ages. It's obvious that your powers are beyond even the highest category of vampire. Releasing Control Art Restriction Systems 3...2...1...approval of Situation A recognized. Commencing the Cromwell Invocation, ability restrictions lifted for limited use until the enemy has been rendered silent,” Alucard chanted, the pentagrams on the backs of his gloves beginning to glow red as he moved his fingers to form a rectangle. Within this rectangle was a bright, red eye in the middle of Alucard's face. All details of his body faded until he was nothing more than a shadowy wraith with a pulsing red aura. From Luke's perspective, a million of the glowing, red eyes seemed to open everywhere around him. Alucard's voice drifted once more from the darkness, “Now, Luke Valentine, it's time to educate you on how a REAL VAMPIRE DOES BATTLE!” His body began to contort and morph forming into the head of a massive hellhound, then the full beast, charging towards the horrified Luke. He just barely dodged the first bite, turning and running as fast as he could, screaming in fear as he did so. As the hound gave chase, Alucard's arm, complete with Jackal emerged from its mouth, firing off a shot and completely severing Luke's left leg. Luke, his fear overcoming the pain, ignored this and continued on, trying his best to hop away until stopped by Alucard removing his other leg. He screamed and fell to the ground at the base of the stairs that led out of Alucard's chamber.

“What are you? What in the hell are you?” Luke shouted at the formless, shadowy blob that slowly formed into Alucard, standing taller than ever, wearing the same leather outfit Integra had found him in, his lower body still consumed by darkness, that unblinking, red eye still staring at Luke, this time from Alucard's chest.

“Come on, get up. Attack me! You've only suffered the loss of your legs. Summon your familiars, transform your body, heal your severed limbs. The evening's still so young. Come on hurry, hurry, hurry, pull yourself together, the fun's just beginning. Come on, HURRY!”

Luke, whether out of pain, fear, or just horror, simply yelled, “Monster!”

Alucard's grin faded, his shadows retreated into his body and he growled, “So, I see you for what you really are. You're pathetic.”

“Shut up, you're not even fit to call yourself a vampire, all you do is get yanked around on your leash by Hellsing and the Church of England like the dog you are. You're-”

“Silence! I'm a dog, am I? Then you're dog food,” Alucard said, his hellhound forming at his shoulder. With a growl, it charged forward, and Luke Valentine was now no more than a splatter of blood across the stairs. “Such a shame I overestimated you. After all, as a vampire you were nothing but a pathetic piece of shit,” Alucard chuckled, “and now, you're dog shit.” He stretched out his senses for a second, feeling Harry moving up the staircase that led to the top floor, and Seras...running from something. “Hmm...that one didn't seem like much, I wonder what's drawing the fight out?”

---

Seras recoiled in horror from the sight of these ghouls Jan had summoned so he could make a break for the Round Table, they were Hellsing troops that had died defending these halls. She screamed as one grabbed her ankle and tripped her, images of their faces in life stopping her from summoning the appropriate killer instinct to defend herself. They swarmed her, touching and grabbing everywhere...until they drove her past her breaking point. Her eyes glowed red and she began to tear them to pieces with her bare hands.

Integra, watched all this through the conference chamber's open door, through which she and the other members of the Round Table had greeted Jan at muzzle velocity, and could barely believe the sight of sweet, naïve, little Seras Victoria ripping what had once been her men to shreds. The smile on her face as she did it would certainly haunt her dreams for weeks. “SERAS!”

“MASTER!” Harry and Integra seemed to be on the same wavelength, both calling and running towards the Draculina from opposite sides.

Integra threw her arms around the girl from behind, “Seras, that's enough. Please...stop.”

Harry had, meanwhile, grabbed hold of both her shoulders and watched as her eyes faded back to blue, a confused, then horrified look overcoming her features.

Walter kicked Jan as hard as he could manage, right in the biggest hole he could find. “You're going to tell me who put you up to this, and you are going to tell me now,” Walter said simply, bringing his glove up to his mouth and stretching out a length of his wire.

“Really, now? Pussy,” Jan shot back, a grin on his face. Three shots rang out that left him doubled over in pain.

“That's enough of that, you've pissed me off,” Integra growled as she and the two resident fledglings walked up. Seras was still staring at her bloodstained hands while Harry had thrown a comforting arm around her shoulder and was giving Jan a look that said 'If Integra weren't talking to you right now, I'd fucking end you.' “Who's responsible for this? Start talking.”

Jan simply laughed, and didn't stop til Integra shot him again. He slowly hauled himself to his feet, “Come on, bitch, I'm sure you can figure it out. It's the same guys who put the fucking chip in me. You know, the chip that's telling them everything that happens, the chip that means there's no way they'll let me just sit here, dying and ready to spill everything,” he chuckled again as bright, blue fire began to consume him. “See, fucking told you so. So, since I'm well and truly fucked, why don't you take this little tidbit and shove it up your asses. Beware...the...Millennium.” The fire burned even hotter, reducing the cackling moron to a streak of ash on Integra's carpet.

---

The next morning, Integra sat at her desk, countless faces staring back at her whenever she closed her eyes. Sir Islands had insisted she take responsibility and put the men out of their misery herself, after declaring the entire fiasco her fault and receiving very vocal protests from both Walter and Harry. She'd done as ordered, and she wasn't sure if the faces would ever begone from her mind. Seras had just stood there, and Integra couldn't blame her, no doubt she'd be seeing some phantoms as well.

Walter walked in a moment later, banishing the bad memories for the time being. He pulled out a set of files, “Out of the 96 agents of Hellsing stationed here in London, only 10 are still alive. 8 of whom are only living because they were away during the attack. Excluding them, we are the only survivors.”

“What about Seras, Alucard, and Harry?”

“I didn't count them, they're already dead, Sir Integra.”

“Yes, of course,” Integra replied, she really needed to clear her head, this whole thing was disrupting her thinking. “Any word yet on Millennium?”

“We've secured the help of the Office of British Intelligence as well as the National Public Safety Commission. We even went through the unsorted stacks of books at the British Museum. Internationally, we've discovered 7 occult and military enthusiast organizations throughout Japan, France, and the U.S., but nothing concrete so far.”

“Really? Not a single solid lead?”

“My apologies, Sir Integra. As of now, they only thing we really know is the definition of the word itself, the span of one thousand years.”

“That could be it.”

“I'm all ears, ma'am.”

“Don't you remember, Walter? There was once a man who aimed to have his empire last a thousand years. So consumed by this dream was he that started a war that spanned the globe. Hitler's Germany, the so-called Thousand Year Reich.”

---

A/N: We'll get back to the Wizarding World next chapter, and maybe Dumbledore will reveal a few secrets. Hope you enjoyed. Drop a review and check out my other story, Harry Potter and the Power of the Void. It's a cross between a highly AU Potterverse and Final Fantasy.

Small warning: Poll over Hermione's fate closes when I begin writing the new chapter.

-Sypher Kyaeon

5. Tragedy and Reunions

A/N: Sorry, you guys lost me to my video games again. This time it was Resident Evil REmake, 4, 5, Metroid Prime 3 and FFXIII, and I wholeheartedly recommend all of them. I think I know what I'm gonna write after this and PoV, as well. It'll be an AU of RE2 and 4 in which Leon finds a sample of the experimental “Wesker virus” in one of Birkin's labs and ends up having to use it when the final boss delivers a killing blow, gaining the same strength and speed as Wesker. The story will then skip ahead to Leon in Spain on his mission to save Ashley. Things will obviously be very AU, and, a fair warning, I hate that stupid, manipulative bitch Ada and love Ashley, so it'll most likely end up LeonxAsh. I'll probably continue it on into 5 as well. As for the chapter, I'm using a common mangaka's tool (mangaka is the proper term for a manga author/artist, for those of you who didn't know): the converging story, as in I've gone ahead into Harry's story, but now I'm gonna go a little bit backwards to tell you what's been going on with Mione before they meet up. I apologize to all girls in the audience in advance, I know you hate the “C” word, but I needed something stronger than bitch. You'll know why when you read further. I also apologize for my cruelty in this chapter, but sadism and cruelty are common in Hellsing and I believe both are inherent traits of one Bellatrix Lestrange. I guarantee you that she will get what's coming to her before the first part is over. Also, I know that Hermione get's a little OOC, but you'll forgive the extenuating circumstances. Voldemort does know that Harry's not dead, by the way, his vampires weren't able to confirm the kill, so Voldemort is taking no chances.

Harry Potter and the Bird of Hermes

Chapter 5: Tragedy and Reunions

Two weeks before the attack on Hellsing:

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*

Hermione looked up as someone pounded on the front door of her house. Putting down her book, she looked out the window and saw Ron. What the hell is he doing here? She thought to herself; she'd gotten no notice of a visit and he wasn't accompanied by any Order members. She walked toward the door and braced her arm against the frame, her wand in her hand and out of sight. She opened it just a crack and called out, “What was your last move in the chess match our first year?”

There was a slight pause that she wrote off as Ron's slight tendency to be a little slow, “Sacrificing myself and telling Harry to checkmate the king.”

“How did you and Harry find out about the basilisk in second year?”

“You had a book page clutched in your hand that Harry found.”

“What did Harry do when you and he first saw the troll in first year?”

“Jumped on its back and shoved his wand up its nose,” came the reply, accompanied by a snort.

Hermione opened the door fully, but still looked at Ron quizzically, “No offense, but what are you doing here?”

“Dumbledore said Snape reported that Voldemort was coming after you to try and flush out Harry. Remus and Tonks are covering the yard, now go get your stuff and we'll leave,” Ron replied, his face displaying the urgency in his voice.

“Alright,” Hermione said, turning towards the stairs. After she'd completely turned, she heard 'Stupefy' and all went black.

---

“Wakey, wakey, bitch,” Hermione heard as she woke, desperately trying to clear the fog from her vision. What she saw surprised her. Draco Malfoy was sitting on her living room couch, absentmindedly twirling his wand between two fingers, and she was bound at the ankles and wrists. “Surprised to see me? I'm an official Death Eater now, and my Lord let me pick my first target. Naturally, I picked the stupid, stuck-up mudblood bitch who'd humiliated me on more than one occasion. It's only a bonus that killing you will bring Potter running.”

“So you've moved on from school bully to callous murderer, I take it. Somehow, I doubt that; deep down, you're still the same chicken-hearted, arrogant, little prick,” Hermione shot back, glaring.

“Shut it,” Draco responded, throwing himself forward before delivering a vicious backhand.

“Very eloquent,” she growled, spitting out some blood as she pulled her head back up and smirked at him.

“Calm down, boy. If you kill her now, you'll miss out on that sweet, pained expression as we torture her parents,” a calm, albeit fucking insane, voice said from behind Hermione. She looked and saw Bellatrix Lestrange, a large, sadistic smile on her face as she imagined the very scene she'd described. She shuddered with pleasure for a second before grinning madly and reaching forward to grab a handful of Hermione's hair, “You and your parents are going to suffer and die. It'll be a nice prelude to presenting your body to that Potter brat before our Master kills him.”

Great, she actually seems to get off on this. I need to find some way out of here, Hermione thought. “How in the hell did you manage to pull off the Ron disguise?” she asked Draco, trying to keep them talking while her brain continued to work overtime. She felt something digging into her calf and remembered her backup wand, a little something she'd picked up on the way home from King's Cross. Yes! The morons forgot to search me.

“It was ingenious, actually. We waited for that Weasley idiot to leave his house for a visit to that crazy Luna girl, and snatched him. Voldemort dug every secret possible from his mind, and then used a variant of the Imperius Curse on me that allowed him to speak into my mind without directly controlling me and causing the telltale symptoms. Polyjuice took care of the rest, and, may I say, Weasley tastes like shit.”

“Really? I expected Quaffle. I'd always assumed you were the shit-flavored one,” she quipped, and when Draco smacked her again, she kept her head down so they couldn't see her face contorted in concentration. She touched the wand's handle and focused on both a message and the happiest memory she could muster. 'Expecto Patronum', she said in her mind, a barely noticeable flash accompanying her otter's appearance under the floorboards before it raced away towards her parents' practice. Remus had called Tonks and said he'd apprehended a suspicious character there and sent the Grangers home. She now knew that it was probably just a ruse to draw her guards away and get her parents home sooner; apparently it had worked, because she heard her parents' car pull into the driveway.

“Showtime, mudblood,” Draco said, his voice dripping with malevolent intent. Bellatrix magically shut off the lights, the light outside was only just getting dim but the inside of her house was dark due to the curtains, before hiding near the door so that it would conceal her when opened.

“Hermione, dear, did you go to bed early?” Hermione's mother, Jane, called as she walked in, her husband, Alex, just behind her. As soon as they cleared the door, Bellatrix pressed both her own wand and Hermione's to the backs of their necks.

“Don't move,” she hissed before kicking the door shut. “Draco, the lights, please.”

Draco did as he was told and the elder Grangers saw their daughter tied-up, with a few large bruises blossoming on her face and blood leaking from the corner of her mouth. “HERMIONE!” her father shouted and made to move towards her, but Bellatrix just jabbed the wand into his neck harder.

“Don't move,” she repeated, more forcefully. She jabbed their necks at a downward angle, “On your knees.” The Grangers reluctantly complied as Bellatrix quickly used her wand to seal the door. “Now comes the fun part,” she let out a cackle, “Crucio”

“Mum, Dad!” Hermione called out as her parents began to scream and writhe on the floor. She wasn't sure what was worse, the looks on her parents faces, the feelings of helplessness, or the look of sadistic glee on Bellatrix's face as she enjoyed herself a little too much.

“How does it feel, you filthy mudblood? Knowing that there is no way to avoid their deaths, that your own will lead your precious Harry to slaughter,” Draco whispered in her ear, rage coloring his voice as he remembered all her perceived slights against him.

“Come along, Draco, enjoy yourself,” Bellatrix invited, and moved her wand to cover the daughter as Draco moved onto the parents.

Dammit, dammit, dammit, there's no way I can cut these bonds and take out both of them before they get me. Mum...Dad... Hermione thought as she silently pleaded for Remus and Tonks to show up soon.

Draco, it turned out, was fast developing a sadistic streak of his own, alternating between Cutting Curses and the Cruciatus. Hermione was trying to work her wand out of the thin holster under her sock, ignoring her earlier conclusion that she'd get killed before being able to do anything. She nearly keeled over with relief when the door suddenly began to bend inwards, a sign that the two Order members were currently trying their best to breach Bellatrix's seal.

“Damn, how'd they know? You must be far more clever than I give you credit for, little one,” Bellatrix growled, leaving the parents to Draco as she stalked towards Hermione. “Managed to call in the cavalry. Well, I'll have to punish you for that. Draco, move.” Draco complied and Bellatrix leveled her wand at Alex, “Avada Kedavra.”

“NO!” Hermione roared as the jet of green light hit her father and he slumped to the ground. Jane let out a sob and weakly tried to reach him.

“Did I say you could move?” Draco snarled, letting fly a Cutting Curse that severed her right arm just below the elbow before casting Cruciatus again. Amid her mother's screams, Hermione finally got her wand free and sliced the rope around her feet before freeing her hands. Just then, the door was blasted off its hinges and Draco, all confidence lost when he saw a former DADA Professor and an Auror charging in the door, bolted through the kitchen and into the backyard. Tonks, ignoring her instincts to chase him down, immediately dropped to Mrs. Granger's side and began to render aid.

Bellatrix didn't fare so well. She'd been distracted and didn't see Hermione free herself, but she certainly felt it when Hermione tackled her, grabbed her wand, tossed it away, and then began to beat the ever loving shit out of the woman who'd taken so much from Neville, Harry, and, now, her.

“YOU CRAZY BITCH! I'LL KILL YOU, YOU STUPID CUNT!” Hermione screamed, primal rage and grief overriding her logical mind. Hermione ignored Remus when he said to calm down, and, in a burst of anger-fueled accidental magic, summoned Bellatrix's wand and shoved it through her eye and into her brain. She died instantly, but Hermione continued to pound her corpse, images of her dead father and screaming mother coming to her mind as the anger began to ebb and she began to sob.

“Hermione, HERMIONE!” Remus called, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around her. “She's dead, she'll never hurt anyone again, calm down.” Hermione stopped and then just seemed to shut down, sobbing and unmoving. Remus picked her up and carried her towards her parents. Tonks had manged to stop most of Jane's bleeding and the injured woman promptly embraced her daughter and broke down crying.

---

Hermione awoke to a sterile smell and a bright, white ceiling. Oh, God, please tell me it was just a nightmare. My Dad's fine and Mum isn't missing an arm, Hermione thought frantically, only to have that fantasy shattered as she felt the pain in her face and her split lip. She looked around, in the process noting that she was in the Hospital Wing, and saw her mum lying on the bed next to her with a body covered by a sheet on the bed beyond her. Dad...

“You cannot allow grief to consume you, Ms. Granger. All that does is let Bellatrix torment you from beyond the grave and make you weaker,” the voice of Albus Dumbledore said from beside her.

“Headmaster, where's Harry?” she asked, trying desperately to think of something other than the two beds beside her. A detail she caught last night seemed a good topic to latch onto. “They said they attacked me to flush him out.”

“I sent him somewhere to get some much needed training.”

“Then please, don't tell him what's happened. He'll go charging right for Voldemort and with that training unfinished. Please...I can't lose him, too,” she begged, tears coming to her eyes.

Dumbledore leaned over and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “He'll be angry when he comes back, but I agree. He...loves you far to much to ignore this. I guarantee that, while it may be a little dangerous, there is no safer place than where he is right now.”

“What do you mean, he loves me?” Hermione asked, unwilling to believe that the feelings she'd harbored since third year might be returned.

“It's not my place to say, ask Harry when you see him.”

“Professor...”

“Yes, Ms. Granger?”

“Train me, too. Bellatrix may be gone, but there are still plenty of Death Eaters out there who will take away more peoples' fathers, mothers, siblings, kids. I want to help stop them.”

“Very well. I'll have Remus and Tonks start as soon as you're recovered.”

With that out of the way and her mind calming a little, the memories of last night became more lucid, and one long-winded explanation by Draco stood out, “RON! Professor, they have Ron!”

“Mr. Weasley?”

“Yes, that's how they caught me off guard, Draco Malfoy showed up disguised as Ron and answered all my questions about him with Voldemort's help. He said Snape had reported that Voldemort was coming after me and he was there to evacuate me. He stunned me when I turned to go upstairs. Did you catch him?”

“I'm afraid not, he escaped out the back when Tonks stopped to help your mother.”

“Oh, well remind me to thank her.”

“You're welcome,” the clumsy, pink-haired Auror said as she and Remus walked in. Both walked over and took turns hugging her and apologizing for getting there too late. “How did you manage that Patronus message?”

“Backup wand. I cast the charm silently after Draco hit me the second time. I had my Patronus materialize under the floorboards so they couldn't see it.”

“You conjured a silent, corporeal Patronus while bound after getting smacked? We may not have to train you very much.”

“Indeed, Ms. Granger seems to have the skills to match her immense intellect,” Dumbledore said, a bright smile on his face.

Hermione blushed a bit, but all mirth was banished from the room by the anguished cry of Jane Granger as she woke up, calling for her husband and daughter. Hermione, nothing damaged but her face, immediately rushed to her, gripping her remaining hand. This will never happen to another family if I can help it.

---

Two days after the attack on Hellsing:

“Hermione, dear, Albus wants to see you in his office,” Jane Granger, looking much better than she had two weeks ago, though not without sadness in her eyes, told her daughter, who'd been at a table in the library doing what she'd been doing for those same two weeks. She was looking up every single spell she could find that would be remotely useful, and she only stopped to eat, sleep, and train with Remus and Tonks.

“Thanks, Mum,” Hermione replied, getting up from her chair and stretching. “How you doing?”

“I'm fine, I still miss your father...but, I'm surviving.”

“Good to hear. You still adjusting to being a leftie?”

“I've had no problems lately, and, to tell you the truth, I've had more trouble adjusting to not having most of my right arm.”

“There are ways of taking care of that magically.”

“So you've told me, quite a few times since I first woke up, but those are all made of inanimate objects and I really don't want a silver or wooden limb.”

“So you've told me. Anyways, see you later, Mum,” Hermione said, giving her mother a quick hug before leaving the library. As she headed towards the Headmaster's office, she reflected on the past two weeks. Her mother had been hysterical while they planned a small funeral, and she still cried herself to sleep when she thought Hermione wouldn't notice. She, on the other hand, had thrown herself into her training, absorbing all of the knowledge Remus and Tonks had presented in record time. After that, she'd all but ordered them to start training her reflexes, still bothered by the fact that Draco had practically shouted the spell and she'd still been hit. She'd gotten to the point that the world seemed to run a little slower in combat now, improving her aim and dodging capability. She wasn't exactly sure what had enabled her to learn a skill like that so fast, but it probably had something to do with her magic, it was reacting to her frenzied emotions somehow. She walked right past the gargoyle, it not being active during the summer, and up the stairs to Dumbledore's office. As she opened the door, she saw someone standing in the middle of the room. As her eyes met his, she instantly knew who it was, despite his appearance change, “HARRY!”

“Hey, Mione,” he greeted, lopsided grin splitting his face. Hermione ran forward to embrace him, but, just as she got her arms around him, she let out an 'ow!' and drew back. “Mione, what's wr-” Harry was cut off as he saw her inner arm...and the gash she'd gotten because he'd forgotten to take off Rebellion. The blood seemed to run from it in slow motion and Harry's eyes became red as he slowly followed a drop across her flesh.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, her voice shaky as she watched his eyes change. Ignoring her, Harry gently grabbed her arm and guided it towards his face, then let his tongue loll out of his mouth before running it along her arm, savoring the sweet taste of 100% pure, virgin blood. The fact that it was Hermione's seemed to make it all the sweeter. “Harry, what are you-” It was Hermione's turn to get cut off, as Harry, any uncertainty stripped away by the bloodlust, kissed her. Hermione stiffened at first, not willing to believe that Harry was actually kissing her, but very soon relaxed and reciprocated. They stayed like that for awhile, their kiss progressively deepening, their tongues dueling, their bodies pressed tightly together as Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and Hermione threw hers around his neck, carefully avoiding anymore nicks on his sword. It was only need for air that separated them. They pulled back just enough to look at each other, but, at that moment, several things connected in Hermione's mind: red eyes, drinking blood, and elongated canines. They all pointed to one thing and that conclusion made her jerk away from Harry. “You're a vampire.”

“Yes, does this mean that was the last kiss we share and I'm supposed to go mope in a castle somewhere in Romania?”

She chuckled at that, “No, but you owe me one hell of an explanation.”

Harry recounted his story from that fateful night, three weeks ago. She just stared at him for most of it, the knowledge that there was a group of non-magicals who not only knew about, but hunted, vampires and other supernatural creatures fascinated her, and the attack on said organization made her shudder a bit, reminding her too much of the sneak attack on her family. Integra, Alucard, Seras, and Walter all seemed like people she wanted to meet and Harry promised that she would. The fact that Harry had killed Dolohov didn't go unnoticed to her, either, and she thought it only appropriate, considering she'd killed a Death Eater who'd caused him pain as well.

It was Hermione's turn next, telling Harry about the attack on her house, Ron's abduction, her father's death, her mother's injuries, Bellatrix's death, Draco's escape, and her training. “That's about it, I'm sorry you didn't get a shot at that bitch yourself, but I guess we're even.”

“Seems so,” Harry replied, grinning. “Listen, Hermione, I'm sorry I just forced myself on you like that, but you cut yourself and, well...the bloodlust can make us vampires do crazy things...and well, maybe I should tell you what I was going to tell you before that happened,” he said, his voice getting a little nervous, despite the fact that everything was already out in the open. Voicing his love for his best friend just seemed so much harder. She looked at Harry and nodded to indicate he should continue. “Look, I've been thinking about a lot of things over the past three weeks, but one thing has stuck in my head, a thought I had before I made my decision to let my master turn me. When I considered what would happen should I die, the first thing that came to mind is that I'd be leaving you, that you'd die. Even dead, I wouldn't be comfortable with that. Truth is, you've been the one constant in my life since I arrived at Hogwarts, you've always been there for me, even when you had every right to call me an ass and leave. I don't know when it happened, but somewhere along the line I seem to have fallen in love with you.”

Hermione, for her part, didn't say anything. She felt a few tears of joy leak out, and then leapt at Harry, kissing him for all she was worth once again. When they pulled back, she smiled, “I love you, too.”

“Ah, young love, is there anything on Earth sweeter?” the voice of Albus Dumbledore echoed from behind them. Harry reacted in an instant, pushing Hermione behind him and pointing Ivory in the old man's direction. “Nice reflexes, I see Alucard has taught you well.”

“My master was more help than that walking fountain of sarcastic commentary.”

“He does take some getting used to. Now, Harry, I assume you have some questions for me?”

“Now that you mention it, old man...”

---

A/N: I feel kinda bad about what I did to Hermione, it makes me want to find Emma Watson, give her a big hug and say sorry, but I don't feel like getting attacked by security, so I'll let that thought go. Sorry if the end seemed a little rushed and the HHr sucked, romance is not my forte, though for those of you who comment, Harry's confession at the end was supposed to sound kinda nervous and rambling. Hermione's “heightened reflexes” are a reference to Bayonetta, a few elements of which I'm using. This particular ability is based on the concept of Witch Time. See you next chapter...

-Sypher Kyaeon