[Harry Potter/Hellsing] Harry Potter and the Endless Night

Hey there, Sufficient Velocity! It's me, The Ero-Sennin (as if that's not obvious).

I want to talk to you about a curious inconsistency that I have just noticed:

Here we have Chapter 3 of this very story. As you may notice there's a notice stating this chapter was in "Violation of Community Compact III.5.1.: No romantic implications between children under the age of 14."

Surprisingly, this isn't my issue at all, I've already contacted the mods and this is being sorted out. They were even polite enough to inform me of the Infraction and that it was possible to protest the motion. As of last night it's being investigated (as I was informed).

This morning, in the spirit of organizing the chapters into an accessible index, I find this.

Oh look, more.


= = =


This material is in no way appropriate, and has been deleted with extreme prejudice. -Eukie


= = =


Oops.

This was Chapter 1 of Harry Potter and the Endless night, but as you can see there ain't much going on there now. Just a notice about how it's gone for being no way appropriate for this board.

Now there, my friends, is this curious inconsistency. I received an infraction and explanation for what is conceivably a minor offense but the offending post is not taken down. On the other hand, I receive no warning nor explanation for a post considered so offensive that it is completely deleted from the thread.

Can someone help me out with this?
 
Hey there, Sufficient Velocity! It's me, The Ero-Sennin (as if that's not obvious).

I want to talk to you about a curious inconsistency that I have just noticed:

Here we have Chapter 3 of this very story. As you may notice there's a notice stating this chapter was in "Violation of Community Compact III.5.1.: No romantic implications between children under the age of 14."

Surprisingly, this isn't my issue at all, I've already contacted the mods and this is being sorted out. They were even polite enough to inform me of the Infraction and that it was possible to protest the motion. As of last night it's being investigated (as I was informed).

This morning, in the spirit of organizing the chapters into an accessible index, I find this.



This was Chapter 1 of Harry Potter and the Endless night, but as you can see there ain't much going on there now. Just a notice about how it's gone for being no way appropriate for this board.

Now there, my friends, is this curious inconsistency. I received an infraction and explanation for what is conceivably a minor offense but the offending post is not taken down. On the other hand, I receive no warning nor explanation for a post considered so offensive that it is completely deleted from the thread.

Can someone help me out with this?
I guess it was 'cause of Heinkel's accidental exposure?
Not sure and I don't think her age was ever stated.
Could also be Arthur's racism? I dunno.

The "Oops" at the end seems oddly fitting though.
 
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Hey there, Sufficient Velocity! It's me, The Ero-Sennin (as if that's not obvious).

I want to talk to you about a curious inconsistency that I have just noticed:

Here we have Chapter 3 of this very story. As you may notice there's a notice stating this chapter was in "Violation of Community Compact III.5.1.: No romantic implications between children under the age of 14."

Surprisingly, this isn't my issue at all, I've already contacted the mods and this is being sorted out. They were even polite enough to inform me of the Infraction and that it was possible to protest the motion. As of last night it's being investigated (as I was informed).

This morning, in the spirit of organizing the chapters into an accessible index, I find this.



This was Chapter 1 of Harry Potter and the Endless night, but as you can see there ain't much going on there now. Just a notice about how it's gone for being no way appropriate for this board.

Now there, my friends, is this curious inconsistency. I received an infraction and explanation for what is conceivably a minor offense but the offending post is not taken down. On the other hand, I receive no warning nor explanation for a post considered so offensive that it is completely deleted from the thread.

Can someone help me out with this?
I believe the issue is related to the 'no kiddie porn' rules.

Basically thous shalt have no story with any implied relationship containing individuals under 18 years of age. You are not allowed to even hint about a relationship whatsoever.

Contact the moderator and find out what part they found offending and discuss ways to bring it into compliance as well as guidelines for avoiding it in the future.
 
Um... well you had Alucard in that post, so maybe they don't like the violence in it? I mean I don't remember anything specific but it is Alucard, who does things like tear peoples legs of and feed them to hellhounds, stab people in the chest with their own guns, ect, ect.... So maybe that post was removed due to the violence. It's probably the scene where Alucard mentions putting someone inside a cow.
 
Um... well you had Alucard in that post, so maybe they don't like the violence in it? I mean I don't remember anything specific but it is Alucard, who does things like tear peoples legs of and feed them to hellhounds, stab people in the chest with their own guns, ect, ect.... So maybe that post was removed due to the violence. It's probably the scene where Alucard mentions putting someone inside a cow.
I dont believe excessive violence is against the rules...
 
Hey there, Sufficient Velocity! It's me, The Ero-Sennin (as if that's not obvious).

I want to talk to you about a curious inconsistency that I have just noticed:

Here we have Chapter 3 of this very story. As you may notice there's a notice stating this chapter was in "Violation of Community Compact III.5.1.: No romantic implications between children under the age of 14."

Surprisingly, this isn't my issue at all, I've already contacted the mods and this is being sorted out. They were even polite enough to inform me of the Infraction and that it was possible to protest the motion. As of last night it's being investigated (as I was informed).

This morning, in the spirit of organizing the chapters into an accessible index, I find this.



This was Chapter 1 of Harry Potter and the Endless night, but as you can see there ain't much going on there now. Just a notice about how it's gone for being no way appropriate for this board.

Now there, my friends, is this curious inconsistency. I received an infraction and explanation for what is conceivably a minor offense but the offending post is not taken down. On the other hand, I receive no warning nor explanation for a post considered so offensive that it is completely deleted from the thread.

Can someone help me out with this?

Odd. Are there any issues on SB?
 
I dont believe excessive violence is against the rules...
It kinda is.
Under Unacceptable Content:
Section 5 under the rules.
You agree not to post any written material that is intended to appeal to the prurient interest, including, but not limited to:
  1. Describes, or appears to describe, children in a sexual fashion;
  2. Explicitly describes adults engaged in sexual acts;
  3. Explicitly describes extreme violence or physical trauma.

Number 3 but I don't really think it applies to what is being questioned. Again, author should deal with it via moderators.
 
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Meh, if the story is messing with the mods delicate sensibilities it's also being posted on nTFF and Sb so just go there, it's what I do. I just hope Ero doesn't start altering the story due to censorship, cause that would suck.
 

For reference, everyone:

There's lots of ways you can ask about, or argue with, a moderator decision, but posting about it in the thread where it was made is not one of them. Section III.17.2 of the rules, in case you're wondering.

Normally, this is an infractable offense. I am letting it slide this time because I understand why it happened.

In the future, if you have questions of this nature please either message one of the Supervisor Moderators-- myself, @Isil`Zha, or @Athene-- or post a thread in News and Management.

Thank you!
 
4. Big Dog on Campus
Oh look, I'm back here again.


= = =


Richard: *Whimpering* Th-the following is a fan-written p-parody. Harry Potter is property of J.K Rowling and is published by Bloomsbury Publishing a-and Arthur A. Levine Books. H-Hellsing Ultimate is property of K-Kouta Hirano and S-Studio Madhouse, and licensed by Geneon, Madman Entertainment, M-Manga Entertainment, and Funimation. H-Hellsing Ultimate Abridged is the collaborative effort of T-TeamFourStar. P-p-please support the Official Release.

Richard: There I said it, now tell me what is going to… wait… what are you going to do with that cow?! N-no! NO NOOOOO! *Shlorp*


"Welcome home, Harry, how was your first week of school?" Integra greeted Harry from behind the heavy oak desk in what was now her office in Hellsing Manor, overlooking the distant London Skyline from the second floor.

In front of the desk, Harry bowed his head. "Largely uneventful."

Tuesday

Professor McGonagall smashed open the door to Dumbledore's office, wild-eyed with fright. "Harry Potter has gotten into a fight with Peeves! There are knives everywhere!"

Dumbledore spat out his tea. Behind him, his phoenix Fawkes squawked loudly in surprise.

"The classes aren't very difficult in the least, much easier than the primary education I've received from Grandfather and Ms. Pinkstone."

Wednesday

Professor Slughorn swung open the door and marched in. "Professor Dumbledore, Harry's somehow made an Essence of Insanity Potion! Half of my students are rioting in the halls, and the other half think they're trees!"

Dumbledore jumped from the sudden arrival, startling Fawkes–who flapped his wings rapidly.

"Much harder to deal with are the teachers, honestly."

Thursday

Pansy Parkinson opened the door to Dumbledore's office, terrified. "Professor Quirrell's stuck to the ceiling! And on fire!"

Dumbledore nearly choked on a lemon drop. Fawkes exploded.

"But I think the next week will be much better."

Friday

An almost giddy Professor McGonagall swept into Dumbledore's office. "Professor! Potter has exorcised Peeves! Ah, after one thousand years, we're free!"

Dumbledore, halfway to signing a letter of expulsion, looked up and smiled before crumpling up the letter and tossing it at the pile of ashes that was once Fawkes, who incinerated it when he flared back to life.

"I'm glad it's gone so well for you, Harry. It's been better than my week," Integra said with a weary sigh.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Richard attempted to kill me so he could gain control of The Organization. He almost succeeded, except that Father told me of the Unstoppable Vampire God we keep locked in the basement. Suffice it to say, Richard is now stuffed up the bum of a cow on a farm off the A10."

Harry processed that for a moment. "We have a vampire?"

Alucard passed through the wall holding a stack of CDs, causing Harry to jump a bit. "God damn it, Freddie's dead, Jerry's dead, Kurt's dead, Bradley's dead, all of Metallica is dead."

Integra looked up at him. "Metallica isn't dead-"

Alucard held up a copy of the "I Disappear" single.

Integra winced in sympathy before looking to Harry. "This is Alucard, Alucard this is Harry, my personal butler."

"Sup, Mini-Walter," Alucard said in greeting.

"Charmed," Harry replied.

"You certainly are," Alucard hinted.

Harry lifted an eyebrow. "Hm?"

"What?" Alucard immediately answered.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, there is much work to be done," Integra declared. "While my Uncle is out of the way, he has supporters in the MOD and in MI6–turning or terminating them will be a top priority in the immediate-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Chocolate Milk."

Harry wondered what he meant by Chocolate Milk and then remembered how inexplicably brown Integra was.

"What is it, Alucard?"

"Well, while we were making some Stuffed Tenderloin a la Hellsing, I read some of Dick's mind to acquire the nouns necessary for dealing with the supporter problem and then went for a little walk."

Integra was about to ask what he meant by that, when Walter, looking rather shaken, stepped in. "Miss Integra, Sir Irons has called and while I could hardly understand his incoherent yelling, I was able to make out something about a cow pasture and several department heads within the MOD and MI6."

"Completely unrelated, but I learned that you can stuff at least three guys up a cow's butt before you got problems," Alucard said.

Harry and Walter stared at Alucard, silent, while Integra just reached up and adjusted her glasses.

"Well done, Alucard. You should go on more walks."

She would come to regret saying this.


Harry Potter and the Endless Night
Chapter 4: Big Dog on Campus


"… And then I spent the entire weekend helping him update his media collection," Harry finished explaining to Ron and Draco in the Great Hall. The Hufflepuff had come to join the two upstanding young men at the Slytherin Table despite the glares of disapproval from the Prefect of the Gryffindor Table.

Ron blinked owlishly. "A vampire that likes Muggle entertainment, that's bloody weird Harry."

"That's your concern, not him shoving people up cows arses?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Well he is an Unstoppable Vampire God."

Draco was practically seething with jealousy. All his family had was a ruddy House Elf. The Hellsings had a Witch, a Vampire Hunter, The-Boy-Who-In-Fact-Lived, and an actual Vampire as servants!

He was being a good sport about it at least. "How does one become a Hellsing Butler?"

Harry lifted his right hand and began counting off the requirements. "To make the cut, one must undergo strict training in Cooking, cleaning, groundskeeping, chauffeuring, serving…"

Draco nodded with Harry.

Harry moved over to the left hand. "… Unarmed combat, armed combat, firearms, poisons, improvised weapons…"

Draco stopped nodding as Harry went back to his right hand.

"… Sailing, driving, piloting, stealth, infiltration…"

Now Ron was staring blankly, as several other Slytherins looked over to Harry, who'd gone back to his left again.

"… Assassination, body disposal, and first aid. And that's just to start."

Draco stared at Harry, who then smiled brightly. "But before you can start training in that you have to swear unfailing loyalty to the Hellsing Organization and to its head." The smile became colder as Harry leveled an icy gaze on Draco. "Which includes keeping any and all personal feelings you may have about the head of the Organization to yourself and never acting on them. Ever. Even if the opportunity presented itself to you perfectly."

Ron looked back and forth between the two boys, and expected Draco to drop dead on the spot. However, the young Malfoy took Harry's intimidation as a challenge. "… That doesn't sound too difficult."

"The organization has a term for men who answer like that, Malfoy." Harry said after a brief moment.

"And that would be?"

"Employed."

Draco did his level best not to be all smug about the praise. Before he could fail at it, however, Hermione calmly strode over from the Ravenclaw table. Harry, Draco, and Ron looked over to her, and found that she was in fact calm in the same sense the ocean was calm as it retreated from shore before a massive tsunami.

Across the table from them, sitting between a pretty blonde-haired girl building a tower from her potatoes and a brunette more enthralled with the book on her lap than her lunch, a raven-haired, hard-faced girl with a bobbed hairstyle glanced up and smirked at Hermione–who folded her arms as she looked down upon her three male friends.

"Is everything okay, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Hermione tightened her jaw for a moment before she answered. "No it is not, Harry. Someone took my copy of Hogwarts: A History and wrote 'Filthy-faced Mudblood' on the inside with ink that won't come out."

She took a deep, fury staying breath. "I'm understandably upset about the slur–and irrationally furious that my book was defaced in such a manner. That said, with the exception of you, Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle, I am going to question every Slytherin at this table as to the identity of the book defacer. Depending on how you answer, I might have to kick your arse."

To emphasize her threat, the table the Slytherin children and Ron were sitting at shook violently, loudly rattling the silver and flatware atop it..

The raven-haired girl stopped smirking at Hermione and looked at her food. The blonde devouring her tower of mashed potatoes, and the brunette more interested in her book than her food both immediately edged away from her without diverting attention away from their preoccupation.

Hermione looked over at the incriminating move, and sighed. "Pansy Parkinson, was it you?"

Had anyone gotten a proper look at Pansy's face at that moment, they would've seen the fear a child cornered by a very large predator. It was fleeting, however, because in that fleeting moment she rationalized that she was a Parkinson and a Pureblood, and as such, she could easily hold her own against an egg-headed, bushy-haired, buck-toothed, mud-blooded Ravenclaw.

"It was me, Granger, what of it?" she challenged.

The egg-headed, bushy-haired, buck-toothed, mud-blooded Ravenclaw pitched herself into a diving leap across the table and tackled Pansy off her bench and onto the floor.

"Bloody wicked!" Ron exclaimed as he stood up on the bench to get a good look of the beatdown before the inevitable swooping in of the Professors.

"Punch her gob in!" Goyle cheered.

"Knock her teeth out!" Crabbe added.

Harry took a sip of his pumpkin juice before looking to Draco, who had begun cutting into the steak on his plate. "I'm thinking of asking Miss Integra to hire her up as well, you don't have any problem working alongside a Muggleborn, do you?"

"Oh no, not at all," Draco replied before resident Keeper of the Keys and half-giant Rubeus Hagrid finally intervened, picking the two girls up by the backs of their robes and holding them out of reach of one another's viciously flailing limbs.

"I WILL END THE CONCEPT OF YOUR EXISTENCE, GRANGER!" a bloody-nosed Pansy yelled.

"I WILL CARVE 'SCUM-EATING TROLLOP' ON THE INSIDE OF THE BACK OF YOUR SKULL!" Hermione, bloody scratches raked across her face, shrieked back.

Harry felt that burning in his scar again, and glanced towards the High Table. There was Quirrell again, avoiding his gaze.


"For someone as brilliant as you are, you are frighteningly quick to violence," Ron said to Hermione later that afternoon in the library.

"Well it's like I've said before, Ron, I was bullied a lot in primary school. It's completely eroded my ability to suffer harassment from anyone. I would've had to change schools repeatedly if I didn't keep my grades up so high."

Neville, who had been studying with Hermione, wanted to express more alarm about her violent tendencies–but he was more concerned about the acceptance of said violent tendencies by the school staff. Sure, Hermione was wonderfully kind to him, but she got into a fist fight in the middle of lunch in front of nearly every teacher and got away with it without even any points being taken from Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Wasn't Gryffindor supposed to be the violent maniac house? It had three Weasleys!

"No one told me that Wizarding School would be this terrifying," he said aloud.

"It's not that bad," Harry said as he looked up, he was sitting across the table piled with (mostly Hermione's) books, reading a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

Neville grimaced. "It's easy for your to say, you hunt vampires and werewolves, and leprechauns for a living!"

"I've never actually seen a leprechaun before," Harry admitted. "What are they like?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "I heard when you catch them, they give you muggle breakfast cereal instead of gold. What's up with that?"

Harry and Hermione shared a look, and silently agreed it'd be funnier if they just said nothing.

Neville sighed and hung his head. "I'm barely above a squib. Why couldn't I have smashed my head open when Great Uncle Algie pushed me out the window?"

Harry wanted to punch Neville's Great Uncle Algie so very badly. "Neville, don't be so hard on yourself. You'll do fine, it's only the start of the first school year."

Hermione agreed. "That's right, you're going to be a great wizard."

"Gryffindors always turn out all right," Ron said. "My brothers Bill and Charlie were terrors, and they came out great. Bill works for Gringotts as a Curse Breaker, and Charlie punches dragons."

And while they were on the subject of punchable things, up walked Pansy. "Granger."

Hermione looked up at her. "Please tell me you're here to give me an excuse."

"As a matter of fact, yes," Pansy replied as she folded her arms and looked down her nose at Hermione. "You're such a smart girl, how are you with a wand?"

"Splendid," Hermione replied sharply. "Professor Flitwick even says I have potential as a duelist."

"Good to hear. I challenge you to a Wizard's duel. Wands only, no contact–which means you're forbidden to lay your mannish hands on your opponent."

Hermione looked down at her hands, and then back up at Pansy with even hotter contempt. "Where and when?"

"Midnight, the cordoned off corridor. No one will interrupt what I'm going to do to you." With that, Pansy smirked and left, Hermione glaring after her.

"Oh no, Hermione don't do it! You'll get expelled for sure!" Neville quickly pleaded.

"Bollocks to that, I'm kicking her arse," she seethed back.

"But dueling is forbidden!"

"I know that, Neville."

"If you get caught past, you'll definitely get in trouble."

"I know that, Ron."

"You could always tell a Professor that Pansy plans to be out past curfew."

"I know that, Harry. But I am going to duel her." Hermione lifted her right hand, balling it into a fist. "The bitch said I had 'Man Hands'."

The three boys looked away from the great aura of anger that radiated from Hermione and silently agreed that while they conceded that girls were becoming increasingly interesting to them, they were still super weird.


So it came to be that later that evening, that Hermione crept out of Ravenclaw Tower, her robe flowing behind her as she made her way down the spiral staircase with fire in her eyes and attempted murder on her mind. EgyptAir Flight 990 just took off and it was on its bloody date with oblivion.

At the bottom of the steps, she scanned the corridor for any sign of the Gray Lady, or any of the school's ghosts, and after seeing none stepped out into the hallway.

Harry was standing atop the arch of the doorway, looking down at her. "In Wizard Duels you usually have a Second to pick up where the duel left off in the event you die."

Hermione jumped and looked up at him. "Oh, hello Harry." She looked away again as Harry dropped down and landed next to her. "I highly doubt that I'm going to be killed by Pansy Parkinson, but thank you for the consideration."

Together, they began walking for the forbidden third floor corridor, Harry sliding his hands into his pockets as he strode shoulder to shoulder with Hermione to her left. "So, do you have a strategy for Pansy?"

"I'm going snap her wand like a twig and punch her in the face repeatedly with my man hands."

Wow, she was really bitter about that. "Well, I'll be there to prevent any cheating."

"Me too, the more witnesses the better, right?" Ron said as he emerged from around the corner as they entered Hogwarts' Trophy Room and joined Hermione at her right.

Harry and Hermione looked to him in surprise. "Ron, you didn't have to," the former said.

"I want to. Besides, I want to know what they're hiding back there."

Harry hummed. "Well, I hadn't even consider that."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they reached the door. "Now, now… it's likely some manner of renovations."

"Renowhat?" Ron asked.

"Renovations, you know, modernizing the building?" Hermione said as they stepped beyond the threshold and into the half-circle of dim light that illuminated the otherwise dark corridor.

Harry was quick realized how odd that sounded. "Hermione, why would they need to close down a part of a magical school to renovate it?"

Hermione stopped, and palmed her face in embarrassment as Harry and Ron shared a light laugh. "Oh, I can't believe I forgot. Someone please kill me now."

The heavy door suddenly slammed shut behind them and when the three whirled around they heard Pansy's voice from the other side. "Gladly, Granger. Colloportus!"

Hermione quickly rushed to the door and grabbed the handle. "Parkinson you twat!"

Harry pulled out his wand. "Don't worry, I've got it." He waved his wand and pointed it at the door. "Alohomora."

The door unlocked with a click, but when Hermione opened it, there was a solid stone wall beyond it instead of the third floor trophy room.

Harry lowered the wand. "Well, that's not right."

Hermione had her wand out and pointed it at the wall. "I've learned a spell for this."

Before she could cast it, however, all three students heard a low, angry growling from behind them. Harry looked back, adjusting his glasses as he peered into the dark. His eyes widened when he saw three sets of glowing eyes glaring at the three students.

Harry lifted his wand aloft. "Lumos…"

A light grew from his wand, before the rest of the room's lighting came to life and revealed the form of the beast.

They were dogs, but their size implied they were gigantic, easily as big as a double decker bus. As the lights grew brighter and revealed their absurd body plan, Harry remembered Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

"Why is there a giant three headed dog in this corridor?" he asked even as he pulled on his gloves.

Barking viciously, the cerberus launched into a full gallop straight for them.

Hermione and Ron promptly panicked as they fled the doorway for the nearest corner of the hallway.

Far more composed, Harry threw knives into the faces and mouths of all three heads, the sting of blessed silver causing the polycephalic dog to rear on its hind legs and howl in pain. Tossing a single knife into the air, Harry caught it as dozens more appeared in the air around him. When he threw the knife, the others followed, embedding themselves into the beast's chest, forelegs, and necks.

"The Church of England sends its regards to your master, hound of Hell," Harry muttered, before the dog slammed its forepaws down and began to tense up. Then, like a shower of steel, the knives dislodged themselves its body and fell to the floor before the bloodied beast lunged for Harry with all three sets of teeth bared.

Harry jumped and kicked off the wall over the dog's heads and ran down its back before springing to the floor. Landing behind it, he turned to face it as it rounded and charged for him. The middle head of the dog attacked, Harry sliding under it and throwing two knives into its neck before rolling out of the way of the paw it attempted to crush his head with.

Getting up, he jumped back from the gnashing jaws of the leftmost head, and dodged them right into a lunge from the middle head. Palming its nose, Harry vaulted over its snout and landed on its crown. Throwing a knife into the dead center of its skull, he only had a moment to reflect on the knife bouncing off before he was tossed off by a rapid shake of its head.

"What the hell do you do to stop this thing?!" Harry asked after he rolled back on the floor. He jumped to avoid the right head's jaws and threw more knives into it, causing it to rear back again. As he hopped back to open the distance between him and the dog, his heel struck against an unexpected ledge, and he fell onto his back atop a wooden trap door.

"What the…?" Harry stopped before looking up at the dog bearing down on him.

"Bloody hell it's going to kill him! And then it's going to kill us!" Ron yelped. "Oh my Go-!"

Hermione, who had managed to calm down from a terrified panic, grabbed him by his collar. "Ron! Ron! Keep calm!"

She looked at the large dog, as it continued to try to get Harry into its belly in as many pieces as possible. "We have to help Harry!"

Ron looked at Hermione, at the dog, and then back at Hermione. "HOW?!"

Hermione looked back at the three headed dog, then back at Ron. "I have a plan, but you have to absolutely trust me."

Hesitant for a moment, Ron took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. What's your plan?"

Hermione waved her wand and pointed it at the three-headed dog's rightmost head. "Incendio!"

A fireball shot from the tip of her wand, smacked right head of the polycephalic dog and exploded, causing it to howl loudly with pain. All three heads then turned to look at the two of them.

Ron let out a squeal of fear before Hermione grabbed his shoulders and leaned close. "Now we use our legs and run like hell."

The dog, mid-charge, pounced on the two other students, who quickly scrambled out of the way and ran for their lives towards Harry.

"Hermione I thought you had the door!" Harry called.

"I have a better idea!" Hermione shouted as she threw another Incendio at the dog's right head. "Harry! Focus all your attacks on the middle head!"

Harry looked up at the dog, and threw a single knife at its nose, nailing it clean in the right nostril causing it to yelp in pain. Enraged, it only sped up trying to run down Hermione and Ron so it could get to Harry.

Hermione grabbed Ron and dove to the dog's left, its gnashing teeth barely missing her bushy hair as it barreled past for Harry.

Harry waited and rolled under the middle head's lunge. Scrambling underneath its body and back onto its feet, he got up and ran to join Ron and Hermione, who were running towards the blocked door.

"This is bloody mental!" Ron yelped as the beast gained on them.

"It's exciting, though!" Harry replied.

Hermione looked back at the charging dog, then at Ron, before she shoved him to the left and dove to the right.

Stumbling across the floor, and scrambling into a corner, Ron looked up at the dog as it went from a gallop to a slow stalk, glaring at all three of them.

Harry backed against the doorway, and looked over at Hermione. "Okay, now what? We still don't have the firepower to take this thing down."

"You're right, we don't!" Hermione said as the three heads growled loudly.

"Then what do we do?!" Ron yelled, before the dog lunged…

… And fell flat on its chins.

Ron, uncomprehending, stared at the three-headed dog as it lay sprawled out in front of them. "What the…?"

Harry tilted his head. "Okay?"

The dog got back up, snarling. Its left head gashed its teeth at Ron, the right head barked at Hermione, while the middle head growled at Harry. Once again it lunged and fell flat on all three chins. Each head wanting a particular child, but none agreeing on a particular order.

"You were reading Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, weren't you?" Hermione asked Harry. "Like the Runespoor, each head has an independent mind, and when those minds can't agree on something, this happens."

The dog reared up again, the heads shaking out the cobwebs before the left head growled at the right and middle head. The middle head, taking offense, growled loudly back the left, before snapping at it with its teeth. The left head, grossly offended, actually bit the middle head, which was also bitten by the right head and it cascaded magnificently from there, the three headed dog prancing around the broad corridor, its heads locked in combat.

Harry looked to Hermione, and smiled.

"You're going to say: 'You're bloody dangerous, Hermione Granger'," Hermione stated with a smirk.

"You're bloody dangerous, Hermione Granger," Harry said, before he laughed.

At that moment, Harry was bowled over by the stone wall blocking the doorway tumbling onto him as a pile of dust. Through the dust cloud, the towering form Rubeus Hagrid emerged, with umbrella in hand.

"FLUFFY! 'EEL!" the half-giant bellowed, prompting the now-named Fluffy to stop fighting and obediently lay flat before his master.

Hermione, seeing Harry getting up from the pile of dust left by the transformed door, looked to Ron and mouthed "Fluffy?", earning a confused shake of the redhaired boy's head.

"Merlin's balls, if yeh've eaten-" he stopped and looked down at Harry, and then side to side at Hermione and Ron. "You're alive?!"

"Yes, but not for lack of trying on Fluffy's part," Hermione answered.

Hagrid gawked at all three children, and let out a boisterous, relieved laugh. "Not a scratch on yeh!"

He helped Harry up to his feet and dusted him off, as Professor McGonagall and Flich came in next. Seeing the bloodied state of the hellhound, Filch laughed. "I told you the kid could hold his own against your mutt, Rubeus."

"It's a draw, Argus," Hagrid muttered back as McGonagall took over.

"You three! Do you have any idea how many rules you've broken?!" the head of Gryffindor House demanded.

"A fair amount?" Harry asked.

"Yes. One hundred points from Slytherin, fifty points from Ravenclaw, and fifty points from Hufflepuff for these infractions," McGonagall sternly declared.

Harry recoiled some. "A hundred? Why?"

"Because Pansy Parkinson is the reason that you're all out here." McGonagall looked over to Neville, who looked relieved to see the three other students alive, and morose that they were probably going to hate him forever for snitching.

Harry, seeing Neville's look, smiled. "Thanks Neville, we probably wouldn't have made it out if you hadn't gotten help."

"Pansy's shot Slytherin in the foot for the House Cup, so I feel better," Hermione said.

Her expression then darkened as she muttered, "Another sacrifice is required, however…"

Clearly to whatever profane Muggle God she worshipped to have her evil Muggle mental powers, Ron thought.

"Well then off to bed, all of you!" McGonagall barked. "Argus, see Potter to Slytherin, Hagrid, take Wesley to Hufflepuff. I'll see these two to their towers."

"Yeah, of course," Filch said as he prodded Harry with his broom. "On with ye!"

As staff and students went their separate ways, Harry slipped his hands into his pockets and hummed. "Mr. Filch?"

Filch snorted and looked towards Harry. "Yeah, boyo?"

"What is Fluffy supposed to be guarding in there?"

"Yer mum, boyo," Filch hissed.

"... My mum's dead," Harry said slowly.

"I know! So 'e's got an easy job, don't he?" Filch asked.

"... You're an arse," Harry said plainly. Filch huffed. "And that didn't make me less curious about it, either."

"Damn," Filch grumbled. "All right, look… Fluffy ain't the only thing waitin' to spring on whatever goes down that hall. There's a big to-do with wha'ever's up there, but God forbid they tell me what it is. I'm just the hired help, hrff… Ya find out, tell me will ya? I wanna know what's gonna get me killed, or mangled, or me soul ripped out of my chest."

"Will do," Harry replied. "If you die, can I have Mrs. Norris?"

"You already got a pet!" Filch grunted. "She's goin' to my niece!"

"You have a niece?" Harry asked.

"I got lotsa things," Filch ground out. "And she's cute, too, so don't think about makin' any moves on her!"

"I'm eleven," Harry said.

"So? I'm lettin' you know now so ya don't get ideas later, you lousy Potter men are all the same way with women…"

Harry nodded and kept pace with Filch. He actually had something interesting to bring home to Miss Integra this weekend. What on Earth could they be hiding below that trap door?


"One hundred points! We're one hundred points in the hole and it's only been a week!" Blonde, mashed potatoes-obsessed Slytherin First Year Tracey Davis bemoaned as she, Pansy, and fellow roommate–book-obsessed Slytherin Daphne Greengrass–made their way to breakfast.

"From the sound of it, Potter and the Weasleypuff snuck out to be Granger's partner in the duel and they all got caught by Filch. Every house but Gryffindor lost points," Daphne said without looking up from her own copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

"Ugh! We're going to lose the House Cup to Gryffindor because you had to go after a Ravenclaw!" Tracey whined to Pansy.

"Hmph, the Mudblood put her hands on me." Pansy clenched her fists. "She was supposed-"

"To get mauled by a giant three-headed dog."

"Mauled by a giant three-headed dog!" Pansy's eyes flew wide. "Huh?!"

Hermione reached over her shoulder and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt before turning her around to face her. Marching her, she drove her back up against the wall and glared at Pansy as she clenched her free hand into a fist and lifted it.

"My friends and I nearly died you twat!" Hermione hissed at her as she easily held Pansy down despite her resistance.

"You'd save me a lot of trouble if you did," Pansy sneered, "Mudblood."

Pansy shut her eyes and flinched when Hermione cocked back her fist to drive it flat into her nose. However, the blow didn't come.

Opening her eyes, she blinked when she saw that Professor Quirrell was holding Hermione's fist back. The turbaned teacher was looking down upon her with an uncharacteristic gravity in his expression, like he was actually succeeding at being intimidating

"Miss Granger, while other t-teachers will excuse your deplorable, brazen behavior on account of your prodigious intellect, I will not. If I catch wind that you've continued to bully Miss Parkinson, I will give you detention. Do you understand?"

He let go of Hermione's arm, and she lowered her hand. Taking a deep breath, and nodded to Professor Quirrell. "Sorry, Professor Quirrell."

"And to Miss P-Parkinson?" Professor Quirrell suggested.

Hermione looked to Pansy, who was smirking rather proudly that she'd been saved from having her face rearranged in alphabetical order, and released her grip. "I'm sorry, Pansy."

"There we are," Quirrell said, pleased to see the situation resolved. "Now head along to breakfast now, Granger."

Hermione turned and walked away briskly, her hands clenching to fists and shaking as she departed. As Stacey and Daphne continued on without her, leaving Pansy with Quirrell, she turned her head and looked up at him with grateful adoration.

Quirrell smiled coldly down at her, before speaking in a low voice. "You did very well, Pansy."

"Thank you, My Lord," she said softly, eagerly back to him as her eyes glazed.

"Now then," he said in a raspy, powerful voice not quite his. "… There is still much work to be done."


= = =


OHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
 
5. The Saint Nick Versus
It's Christmas in April!


= = =


Filch: The following is a fan-written parody. Harry Potter is property of J.K Rowling and is published by Bloomsbury Publishing and Arthur A. Levine Books. Hellsing Ultimate is property of Kouta Hirano and Studio Madhouse, and licensed by Geneon, Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, and Funimation. Hellsing Ultimate Abridged is the collaborative effort of TeamFourStar. Please support the Official Release.

Filch: Now I'd best be on my way, the torture chambers don't run themselves.


"I gotta say, Mini-Walter, I like the knife throwing, but you'll never be able to really appreciate watching someone's head explode," Alucard said to Harry as the two walked through a forest around the midnight hour. "We need to get you a gun."

Harry scanned the trees around them, then looked up to Alucard. "I have several guns, actually."

"You do not have guns, you have Glocks," Alucard corrected, "The key difference being that one is used to kill things, and the other is used to make Americans feel more secure about brown people looking at them funny."

Harry looked down the path ahead. "Well I still prefer knives to guns." Harry's tone became menacing as he stared into oblivion. "There's nothing more satisfying than the rush I get stabbing deeply into someone and watching their life drain from them."

Alucard grinned. "Ah, the intimate killer. I can appreciate that; I myself like to indulge in a little impalement when the mood is right."

"Careful, you'll burn my ears off with such bawdy talk."

Harry looked around for any of those annoying little busybodies following him around since he began going to Wizarding School.

"Still," Alucard said, "There's something to be said of a gun."

"And that is?" Harry asked.

Before Alucard could answer, there was a cracking and splintering of branches, before a young woman dressed in a red mini skirt, purple fishnets, combat boots, and black leather corset fell from the trees and landed in front of them in an excessively sexy three-point crouch. She had beautiful pale skin (sans the self-inflicted cutting scars up and down her arms), long ebony hair with purple streaks and red tips that reached her mid-back, and icy blue eyes like limpid tears.

The painfully goth woman stood up. She seemed to recognize Harry and bared her surprisingly straight fangs. She then spoke.

"My name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way and I've been sent here from the future to-"

Unceremoniously, Alucard drew his titanium nitride-finished Hellsing ARMS Casull, took aim, and fired at the goff. The explosive .454 round blew much of her head off in messy chunks of bloody meat, bone, and purple highlighted black hair.

Alucard looked to Harry. "That."

Harry, impressed, nodded. "Well said."


Harry Potter and the Endless Night
Chapter 5: The Saint Nick Versus

"Ah, Christmas, my favorite time of the year. A chance to sit by the fire, enjoy some fine wine, and spend time with those you hate a little less than everyone else," Alucard said as he indulged in some wine with two youngsters in his basement.

"Quite," Walter said over his own glass.

"Indeed," Carlotta agreed.

"It won't be quite the same without Arthur around, damn his soul," Walter said over his glass.

Carlotta stirred the wine in her glass with the slightest movement of her wrist. "We can't expect Sir Integra to throw a Christmas Party like he did."

Alucard smiled fondly. "Good times, those. I remember the last party I before I was locked up."

"Yes, and so does the South of London," said Walter, who wanted to forget as much as the South of London.

"Well we need to do something. Much as I enjoy reminiscing about all the Krauts we killed," he said to Walter, "and staring at your fascinatingly resilient tits," he said to Carlotta, "It just won't be Christmas without a proper party."

Walter hummed. "Well, Sir Integra and Harry won't be in for the next several days. I can't see why a party isn't out of the question."

Alucard would throw one even if it was. And on that note, Alucard emptied the wine glass and tossed it aside. "Walter, you call up some hookers. Witch tits? Find me a Challenger Tank. We're having a Christmas Party that'll have Ol' Artie crawling out of Hell to get in on!"

"Cruiser Mark Eight, Challenger 1, or 2?" she asked.

"Whichever you think will be harder to wrap around a telephone pole, I wanna work for it this year!"


A long, chilling shiver ran through Integra as she sat in the back seat of her car.

"Are you cold, Sir Integra?" Harry, who was sitting next to her and conspicuously dressed in more pedestrian attire, asked.

"No… I just had a bad feeling about Alucard," Integra said.

"I think Alucard is the last person you should worry about," Harry assured her.

"I know," Integra gravely replied.

"Everyone else though…" their driver said with a chuckle.

His attempt at lightening the mood was missed somewhat by Integra and dismissed outright by Harry's eye roll.

As Walter was vampire-sitting, the two children were being driven through the snow-covered streets of Surrey, England by one of the Hellsing Organization's military arm–Captain Gareth Henderson.

Harry wasn't particularly fond of any of Hellsing's regular soldiers. While they were fantastic at their job, they had a very poor tendency of forgetting that Harry was well and capable of doing his. Still, Integra admired them and even knew all their names so he kept his poor opinion of them to himself.

Integra looked meaningfully at her butler. "Are you nervous, Harry?"

"A little," Harry admitted.

"We can leave at any time. Just say the word and we'll be back at Buckingham Palace with the Queen and the Family in an instant," Integra reassured him.

Harry looked out the window at the Christmas-lit houses they slowly passed on their way to their destination. "No, it's fine. I mean this is my family. I didn't think I had one of my own, well… other than Grandfather and Miss Pinkstone and Sir Arthur and you. I want to make a good impression on all of them, and maybe even learn a little more about my parents through them."

Several Days Ago…

Sir Integra Hellsing was leader of a paramilitary organization dedicated to eradicating evil creatures that threatened crown and country, noble by birth, and somewhere in the top 50 in line to the throne itself. However, at the end of the day she was still a twelve year old girl who liked twelve year old girl things and that's why Dumbledore and Harry apparated into her office to find her dancing to N*Sync.

"Sir Integra?" Harry asked as he tried to repress his smile as she danced in time with the chorus of the catchy pop tune from over the pond.

Somehow hearing Harry's voice over the very loud music, Integra froze mid step and whirled around to face her Butler and the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"H-HARRY!" she shrieked, her face a brilliant shade of red.

"Oh, I rather like this music," Dumbledore said cheerfully before Integra slammed down her finger on the stop button of the CD player.

Taking a deep breath to regain her composure, she quietly pretended the embarrassment never occurred. "Professor Dumbledore, to what do I owe the pleasure of you arriving to my home… which is supposed to be warded against Apparition."

"Ah yes, I noticed that. You may want to have those looked at," Dumbledore suggested, "But I brought Harry back here personally for Christmas Holiday because I wanted to bring to your attention something that could benefit not only Harry but your organization as well."

Integra sat down at her desk. "I'm listening."

"Well, there's an ancient ritual called sacrificial protection wherein if one willingly chooses to be killed to protect someone that they love, then the loved one will be protected from any and all dark magic cast upon them from the killer and those connected to him," Dumbledore explained.

Integra furrowed her brow. "But wait, wouldn't that mean that someone Harry loves would have to die for him?"

"Someone already did. The scar on Harry's forehead is the very point that he was struck by the Killing Curse. Unless such a protection was cast on him, he would have certainly be killed."

Integra blinked and then reasoned it out. "So Harry is immune to Dark Magic."

"For the most part. There is is a secondary ritual that will bolster the original protection. This could be of great use to you, specifically against Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters… of which there are many."

Integra stopped. "Wait, isn't Lord Voldemort dead?"

"Everyone seems to think so, sir," Harry replied.

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to inquire about this one myself," Alucard said as he materialized through the wall, "If I remember correctly, I saw Voldie blow up into chunks from a Killing Curse coming back at him and unless you're me you don't come back from that."

He stopped and considered the implications… before a great and terrible grin spread across his lips. "Oh please tell me he came back from that."

Dumbledore stared at Alucard. "Beg your pardon… but you would be…?"

"Oh, this is Alucard, the most powerful weapon in the Hellsing Organization's arsenal. When there are things I want especially dead and to know that I want them dead, I send him."

Alucard grinned. "But you might know me as…"

"The Crimson Fucker," Dumbledore said in awe.

The Crimson Fucker, who faced Voldemort and killed him was also Dracula, a vampire so powerful at his height that no wizard worth his salt could lay so much as a cantrip on him.

It'd been so long since Dumbledore had been so erect.

Alucard hummed. "And you… you're Albus Dumbledore! I've heard about you during the war!"

Dumbledore breathed out a humble sigh, but was inside giddy as a schoolgirl to be recognized by the Crimson Fucker. "Oh, I didn't do much-"

"Mini-Walter, I want you to get a good look at this son of a bitch, he killed almost as many Nazis as Walter and Me… purely through collateral damage."

Integra was almost hesitant to ask. "… What were you trying to kill?"

"Not so much kill as forcibly restrain," Dumbledore replied with a small hint of embarrassment. Alas, Gellert had to involve his followers… and those two SS Battalions, and that Panzer Battalion, and that Bomber wing… and all of those werewolves–he still felt a little awful about incinerating that one Captain's entire unit.

With a somewhat raised respect for the old Headmaster, Integra sat up a little straighter. "You can tell me more of it later. Now then, how exactly can Harry gain invulnerability from Voldemort and his followers?"

"It's rather simple, I can cast a charm on Harry that strengthens the Sacrificial Protection for as long as he is allowed into the home of a blood relative," Dumbledore replied.

Integra grew surprised. "He has living blood relatives?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "A muggle aunt, Petunia Dursley."

The Present

"You needn't worry, Harry," Captain Henderson said. "At the end of the day, no matter how different or awful they are, family will always be who you've always called it. And it's like you said, the Hellsing Organization will always be there for you, even us regular blokes"

Harry looked over at the soldier. "Thank you for the platitude, but I didn't ask for your opinion on the matter. Please just focus on driving and dying when we need you to."

Integra pinched his cheek, indicating that he had gone outside the acceptable limit of backsass in her company.

"Ow!"

Chuckling, Henderson pulled into the driveway. "Here we are, 4 Privet Drive."

"Thank you, Captain," Integra said as Harry immediately moved to get out of the car so he could let her out. Much to his chagrin, she chose to let herself out.

"Sir…" he tried to say.

"You're not serving as my butler this evening, Harry. Just worry about getting to know your family and having a fine time with them. It's Christmas after all," Integra ordered him.

"Of course, sir," Harry said while reflexively bowing.

Captain Henderson then offered a bit of advice. "Even if you don't have a fine time, remember that they're family and whatever happens try to enjoy the spectacle."

Harry gave Henderson a dry look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means no family is perfect, and no Christmas Dinner is perfect without a disaster."

"You've been to too many Hellsing Christmas parties," Harry criticized.

With Captain Henderson behind them, the two children walked up to the front door. After a moment of hesitation, Harry reached up and rang the doorbell and waited. Soon enough they heard heavy footsteps from the other side, and the door opened to reveal a great mountain of a man with a large face and a bushy mustache.

Vernon Dursley looked down upon the two children on his doorstep, and immediately became drawn to the familiar face the boy had. It took him back, immediately, to a cocky cock who rode on a broom and claimed to have an income of pure gold.

The temptation to slam the door in the faces of the lot of them sang in his ear loudly, but he ignored it.

"Ah, you're Lily's boy," he said gruffly.

Harry quickly nodded. "Yes, er… Harry."

"VERNON WHO'S AT THE DOOR?!" a loud voice bellowed from further in the house, causing both the children, their escort, and their greeter to jump.

Vernon paled slightly and looked back. "It's Harry, he's arrived."

Heavier footsteps, approached the doorway. "Well, let him in out of the cold then!"

Vernon stepped back and allowed for the three to enter. Unzipping his coat as he crossed the threshold, Harry found himself face to face with another mountainous person. This time it was a woman, or a man who preferred the comforts of crossdressing and openly dared anyone to criticize his taste while emphatically cracking his knuckles.

"… A-Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked in a quiet, hesitant voice.

The woman(?) snorted loudly. "I'm your Aunt Marge, Petunia's in the kitchen."

She looked past him to see who else had come along with him, and spotted Integra. Seeing the otherwise impeccably dressed and superbly poised pretty young lady, Marjorie Dursley's demeanor flipped on its head.

"Oh and who would you be, dearie?" she greeted Integra in a sweet voice.

"I am Harry's benefactor, Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing." She curtseyed accordingly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dursley, Ms. Dursley."

"Take her coat, Vernon!" Marge demanded before she noticed Captain Henderson, and her face lit up even more at the sight of the handsome soldier "… And you would be, good sir?"

The Hellsing Soldier quickly fell upon his years of training and dealing with grotesque horrors to muffle his internal scream. "I'm the chaperone for the evening. Gareth Henderson."

Having taken Integra's coat, Vernon went to offer to take Captain Henderson's as well. But Marge quickly muscled past and managed to get around him.

"Please allow me to take your coat!" she insisted as she placed her hands upon his broad shoulders and squeezed.

Captain Henderson didn't muffle the scream this time.

The party from House Hellsing were ushered directly into the sitting room of House Dursley after being relieved of their coats. Sitting there on the floor was a blonde-haired boy who was as big around as two Harrys side by side, playing an excessively violent video game on the living room television.

"Dudley, get off the telly, our guests are here," Vernon demanded.

"I've almost beaten the boss Daddy!" his son, Dudley, whined back as said boss began kicking him around like it were an afterthought. "No! NO!"

He threw down his controller with a great yell of anger, breaking it in half. He quickly got up. "Daddy! I want a new game, this one's rubbish!"

Harry and Integra looked to one another.

Vernon was quick to try to head off his son's incoming screaming fit. "Dudley, I'll get you one soon. We have company-"

He failed. "I WANT IT NOW!"

Harry and Integra looked to one another again.

"Now Vernon, what kind of father are you to deprive your son?!" Marge demanded before she walked over to the Christmas Tree and pulled from under it a large box addressed to the boy addressed as Dudley. "Dudders, I've got you something better than a new controller."

Vernon protested this at the very first instant. "Marge, presents aren't for until tomorrow-"

"Nonsense, one present isn't going to hurt the lad," she said before she handed the boy the box, and with the speed of a ravenous wolf on a deer carcass, he tore away the wrapping.

"A PLAYSTATION TWO?! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Dudley shrieked as he held up the box in question.

Integra, horrified but making no show of it, leaned aside to Harry and whispered. "So this is how the middle class lives."

"How wretched," whispered back Harry.

"Yes, yes Dudley you can play it all you want after dinner, but it's time to meet your cousin," Vernon said in a desperate attempt to wrangle his spoiled rotten son.

He was a little more successful this time, as Dudley turned from his father towards the indicated cousin. "You're Harry?"

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"My Mummy and Daddy said you're a butler, where's your tuxedo?" he sneered derisively.

Harry was taken aback somewhat by the question, but took it with grace. "I don't wear a tuxedo. It's a three piece suit but without the-"

"Go get me some juice from the kitchen, butler!" Dudley immediately ordered him as though he were the hottest shit lording it over the lowest toad.

A sudden stillness followed, as Harry was struck bemused by the sudden nastiness from the boy.

The sound of the sharp breath Integra drew in through her teeth that broke the silence would haunt Harry's nightmares for the rest of his life.

"Harry is off duty at the moment," Integra said with a calm reminiscent of a mirror-smooth pond with a very large, hungry crocodile lying in wait just below the surface. "He is here to meet and spend time with you, his family, not work."

Dudley stared at Integra. "Are you his girlfriend?"

Harry blanched in disgust at the very idea, as did Integra.

"No, I'm his master," said the latter, "He grew up under the same roof as I, and has been trained expressly to serve me before anyone else."

She looked over to him meaningfully. "I couldn't ask for anyone else to be at my side."

Harry stood straighter, his tumultuous thoughts about this awful cretin soothed by the pride with which his master spoke of him.

Dudley, being a mean-spirited twit, missed the importance and feeling in Integra's words. "So does it mean he has to do everything you say? Can you make him hop on one leg and bark like a dog?"

Before Integra could reply, Dudley's eyes seemed to glimmer at the possibility. "No! Make him act like a monkey! And sing Bye Bye Bye!"

Integra was about ready to happily demonstrate to Dudley how her beloved butler was also trained to dismember rude, entitled twats, but Harry was quick to intercede on her before her rage broke.

"Sir Integra, Dudley did request a drink did he not? Perhaps I should get it for him? From the kitchen?" he pleaded with her.

Integra misinterpreted his saying that as less wishing to meet his actual blood-related aunt, and more poisoning Dudley's food. "… Of course Harry, go get Dudley some juice."

Happy to be in full butler mode again, if out of uniform for the duty, Harry smartly stood at attention and bowed. "At once, sir."

As he left the living room and walked towards the hallway towards the kitchen, he muttered aloud to himself. "So these are the people my Aunt chose to spend the rest of her life with?"

Honestly, he was well past the point of wondering if the enhanced blood protection was worth it. He opened the kitchen door and stepped in, where he found the usual organized chaos that a kitchen tended to be when food prep was going at full tilt.

At the center of the maelstrom, watching a pot full of potatoes boil furiously with a glass of wine in one hand, was a reddish blonde-haired woman who bore a striking resemblance to his mother.

Hearing the door open, Petunia Dursley nee Evans looked to her nephew and was initially struck–as Vernon was–by the boy's striking resemblance to his father. The wide green eyes, however, were definitely those of his mother's.

Frozen briefly he shuffled his feet a bit and bowed politely. "Oh… hello Aunt Petunia," he said awkwardly as she scrutinized him.

She was silent long enough for her to blink twice as she stared at him. "Harry?"

"Y-yes. I just came in and…" Harry stopped when Petunia set down the glass, wiped her hands on the apron she wore over her dress, and walked over to him. Harry braced himself when she reached him, her steely gaze seeming to bore through him.

There was something to be said about having low expectations of people, Harry pondered, because Petunia suddenly grabbing him up in a very tight hug was the most satisfying surprise he'd gotten this Christmas so far.


Harry wasn't the only person having a less than ideal Christmas. In London town proper, at the Surrey Quays Shopping Center, Draco Malfoy was suffering an excruciating and humiliating punishment for crossing his father. It had all started the very night after he returned home for Holiday from Hogwarts…

Several Days Ago

"Absolutely not!" a furious Lucius Malfoy decreed to his son at the table of the large, dark, and drafty dining hall of the Malfoy Manor. "No son of mine, no Malfoy, will be a… a… servant to a blood traitor!"

"It's not any servant, it's a prestigious and honorable duty!" Draco said. "Only the very best can be a Hellsing Butler!"

At her side of the table, her dinner interrupted by the shouting match between spoiled son and bratty father, Narcissa Malfoy, the somewhat aged if still beautifully elegant head of the homestead, regarded her Draco with concern as he stood up to his father for once.

"The best at what, polishing shoes? Serving tea? Kissing taint?!"

"No! I-" Draco stopped on that last one. "What?"

"You're not going to become a butler!" Lucius hissed again.

"But I can do it!" Draco said.

"Dobby can do it! That is what Dobby was born for! Do you want to be seen as equal to Dobby?!"

The Malfoy family's house elf then popped in. "Did Master call for Dobby?"

Lucius punted him across the room. "No!"

The projectile house-elf bounced off the wall.

"Lucy, dear, could you not kick him?" The wretched thing was already brain-damaged enough as it was.

"Not now, Sissy!" Lucius said before he whirled dramatically back upon his son. "You want to be a servant? Fine then! Why don't we get you a taste of what to expect?!"

Today

And that's why Draco was at the Surrey Quays Shopping Center, "volunteering" as a Christmas Elf for the Shopping Center Santa who entertained muggle children while their parents desperately shopped for those precious last minute holiday gifts.

All this punishment was doing so far, though, was giving him a sense of empathy that his father sorely lacked. None of the other volunteers, for all their cheery smiles and eagerness to assist the jolly old red man, were terribly excited about the job either and he couldn't blame them. Those who were usually lost their love for it after the third or fourth time a child screamed for something called a PlayStation 2 and then punched them.

The day shift Santa still had an awful black eye from the disgustingly fat boy who punched him over one of those stations of play, but Draco was more concerned about the actor's legs. The filthy pig of a boy was as wide as two Potters side by side and probably weighed more than his father.

He looked towards the line of impatient children and their parents. The evening shift Santa hadn't quite arrived yet, so until then it was the job of the elves to keep the kids calm and reassure them that Santa was very busy getting ready to deliver presents and rubbish like that.

"MUMMY WHERE'S SANTA?!" a little girl at the front of the line shrieked to her mother.

"Santa will be along soon, poppet. Please don't make a scene…" her mother pleaded with her.

"BUT I WANT SANTA NOW! I WANT A DOLLHOUSE MUMMY!" the girl screamed. "WHERE IS SANTA?! WHERE IS SANTA?!"

The other kids joined in, growing more hostile with every chant.

"Bloody hell…" Draco moaned under his breath.

One of the elves, an older muggle teenaged boy who was doing the volunteer job as part of a juvenile hall punishment, looked to Draco and sighed. "Aye Drake, you're a good kid. You don't deserve this."

Draco thanked the teenager with a nod. That was another way that his father's punishment was backfiring. Turned out that the other volunteers liked having Draco around and treated him like a comrade in arms against the waves and waves of muggle commercialism. As such, Draco was holding muggles in much higher esteem as he came to understand them.

Another elf, a young woman with a terrible height deficiency, just shook her head. "I would give for anything to happen and just end this," she said.

"Yes, as would I," Draco commiserated.

"HO! HO! HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS!" boomed a familiar voice, and the children went from riotous to rapturous. The evening shift Santa, by far the more popular and enthusiastic of the Santas who worked the Surrey Quays, had finally arrived.

He was a jolly old man who fit the Father Christmas archetype perfectly. Tall, large, sporting a majestic white beard, a twinkle in his eye, and excess jolliness. He reminded Draco of Professor Dumbledore in most respects, and sometimes wondered if he in fact was, but was hesitant to confront him.

"Sorry for being late, I had to wrangle the reindeer some, but now I'm here and I have a very special present for all of you good little boys and girls. Ho, ho!" Santa's promise brought more cheers to the children, and some confusion to Draco.

He looked to the older teen from Juvie. "Are we giving things away?"

"Don't know, roll with it," the teen replied.

Santa took a seat and patted on his lap. "Now then," he said jollily to the little girl who screamed for a dollhouse, "I bet there's a sweet little girl who wants something extra nice this year. Come tell Santa all about it!"

With a happy squeal, the girl ran over to Santa and hopped onto his lap. "Santa! Santa! Santa! Santa! Santa! I want a Barbie Dollhouse! And a Bratz sports car! And a Pink Gameboy with Pokemon and…"

As the girl eagerly ran through her list of Christmas wishes, Santa smiled warmly, then grinned wide… unnaturally wide. Noticing the size of his smile, and those unusually white and sharp teeth, Draco tilted his head slightly.

"Huh…?" He then remembered what Harry had told him about the job that he was so eager to have, and went paler than he already was.

"Oh no."

And with a geyser of blood that got all over Draco's face and front, Santa ruined Christmas.


At the Dursley home, Harry had momentarily forgotten about the juice he had been tasked to get Dudley as his Aunt Petunia held him tightly, like he was the most precious thing in the world. After meeting the Dursleys, he'd come to expect every other reaction in the world.

"A-Aunt Petunia…?" he spoke hesitantly.

Petunia squeezed him a little tighter, before pulling back and looking him over. It surprised him to see her on the verge of tears despite smiling–especially given how awful her husband, child, and sister-in-law in the other room were. "Of course Lily and James would have a handsome son."

Harry was taken aback by the praise. "Th-thank you."

"Did you want a snack or something before dinner? It's done, it just needs to be set out."

"Oh, no. I actually came to get Dudley some juice," Harry replied.

Petunia scowled for a moment. "You don't need to get him anything; he can wait until dinner."

She smiled again to Harry. "It's so wonderful to see you, Severus said that you'd been lost with your parents."

"Severus?" Harry asked.

"A wizard I know," Petunia replied with a noticeable curtness, before continuing, "I was certainly surprised when Dumbledore told me… I don't think I've ever been happier."

"Really?" a surprised Harry asked.

At that moment, Dudley barged into the kitchen.

"Where is my juice, butler?!" he screeched practically in Harry's ear.

Before Harry could properly eviscerate the boy on reflex, Petunia stepped in angrily. "Dudley Dursley! You do not speak to your cousin like that!"

The prat wasn't having any of it. "I told him to get me a juice and he hasn't gotten me it! I want a juice, NOW!"

Harry had quickly composed himself and, right before Petunia could give the bratty child a proper slap across his fat face, quickly went into the fridge and produced a can of juice for Dudley.

"Your juice, sir."

Dudley stared at the juice, and then at Harry. "Open it!"

Harry popped the tab without protest and offered the can to him. Satisfied, Dudley snatched the can from him and began drinking it as he left the kitchen for the dining room.

As the door swung shut behind the larger child, Harry turned to face Petunia, who was draining the last of the wine she had in her glass.

Her not being happier suddenly didn't sound like giddy hyperbole.

Lowering the glass, Petunia sighed as the sweet, soul-deadening effect of alcohol suppressed her urge to truly and viciously rail at her vile offspring. She tiredly apologized to her nephew. "I'm so dreadfully sorry for him, my Dudley must have everything his way. Since he found out about you he's been demanding a butler a his own."

And Harry rightly surmised that Dudley expected Harry to be his butler now. He would have to disabuse him of the notion before dinner's end. "I don't mind it Aunt Petunia, I can suffer a prat for a Christmas dinner with family."

"PETUNIAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Marge suddenly bellowed. "YOUR SON IS GROWING HUNGRY! DINNER BETTER BE READY SOON!"

Petunia began to fill the wine glass again. "I'm going to mash the potatoes now, Marjorie. Have a little patience!"

"BE QUICK ABOUT IT, YOU LAYABOUT!"

Petunia looked down at her near overfilled wine glass, then at Harry, and then back at the wine glass.

She then lifted the bottle to her lips and proceeded to chug it for several moments until it was drained.

"There is nothing healthy about that, Aunt Petunia," Harry advised.

Petunia smiled to Harry. "It keeps me down just enough so I don't murder that oaf of a woman."

Well, that just made everything worse? "I see…"

Petunia, despite her threateningly high blood alcohol content, skillfully went back to dinner preparation. "Would you like to help me set the table while I finish this, dear?"

Harry forced a smile. Was this how Christmas Dinners went down for normal families?

"I'd love to."


Meanwhile, with Draco, Christmas was still ruined. In fact, it was becoming ruinous as he fled through the shopping center, screaming at the muggle shoppers to run. Behind him, a shuffling, groaning wave of pale purple-eyed ex-persons known to wizard and Hellsing alike as ghouls surged over shoppers too confused by the screaming boy dressed as an elf to run.

Fortunately panic set in quickly enough, and soon much faster people were leaving the evolutionary out-of-luck to be dragged down and feasted upon by the ravenous mob of undead.

"FOR ALL THAT'S BLOODY GOOD IN THE WORLD RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" he screamed again during his fleet-footed flight for the front door.

"HO! HO! HO!" he heard the Mall Santa bellow from behind to above him as the terrifically nimble freak vampire leaped from level to level. "DON'T POUT! DON'T CRY! SANTA CLAUS IS HANDING OUT ETERNAL LIFE!"

Draco glanced up ahead fast enough to catch a glimpse of Santa slam into a gawking woman fangs-first and smash her into a wall with tremendous force.

Oh if he only had his wand he would… Oh what the bloody hell would he do?! He was a first year! He could barely levitate a feather, what was he going to do against Insane Vampire Santa?!

He looked back again to the carnage and wished he hadn't. The crush of ghouls had slowed–because dozens of people who had run for other exits in the shopping center had inexplicably doubled back right into the many arms of walking death. Why were they running back into the ghouls?!

"HO! HO! HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" And there was Mall Santa, laughing like a loon as he powerbombed some poor bloke from the second level of the shopping center into the mosh pit of death and depravity on the ground level.

"This is insane," he muttered, "H-how does Potter fight this?!"

Draco looked towards the doors he'd been running to. A large crowd of people yet to be set upon by monsters was trying to squeeze out and in their panic it wasn't happening fast enough. He looked back at the ghouls and the mist of blood that seemed to hang over them, and swallowed hard.

These people were doomed if something didn't happen, if someone didn't do anything, and he was doomed with them! How could Draco hope to impress the Lady Hellsing and become her Butler if he could truly be no better than Dobby?!

And with that question, something galvanized within him. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the distracted horde of ghouls. He wasn't out yet! His nerve had impressed Harry Potter, the most dangerous Hogwarts student since Lord Voldemort! If nothing else, that raw nerve would get him through this! He was a Malfoy, not some freak's food!

"Ho, Ho, Ho?" Santa slowly stood from the mass of his undead thralls, his jolly red attire now stained crimson. He stared at Draco.

"Ah! My little helper who ran away! There's much work to do! We need to spread the spirit of Christmas and I need everyone aboard!" as he spoke the other Volunteer Elves, now thoroughly ghoulified, shambled forward to his flanks and moaned hungrily.

Draco merely closed his eyes and huffed, before he shot mightily venomous glare that actually stayed vampire Santa for a moment.

"How dare you speak to me like that, you trash?" he demanded, "Do you even have the faintest idea who I am?!"

Draco tore off the ridiculous hat and fake ears. "Of course you wouldn't, a rat in a gutter would only know sewage."

He posed fabulously and hooked a thumb to himself. "My name is Draco Malfoy! One thousand years of the finest elite in the world lies in the blood that courses through me, distilled and purified to true perfection! If you think that for a moment that you will get to taste a single drop, you are fatally mistaken!"

Insane Vampire Santa blinked several times, actually taken aback by the sheer nerve of the kid in front of him, before he grinned. "Elite blood, hm? HO! HO! HO!"

He then leaped for Draco. "YOU MUST BE DELICIOUS!"

At the last moment, Draco smirked. "Dobby! Protect your Master!"

Santa smashed face-first into an instantly conjured barrier, created by the tiny big-eared, bug-eyed house elf that stepped from behind Draco. With a thrust of his hand, the House Elf sent Santa flying into one of the shopping center's supports with enough force to shatter part of it.

"Young master is in danger!" Dobby quickly said. "You must escape with Dobby!"

Draco swept his arm dramatically. "No, not until we've gotten the people behind us to safety!"

Dobby looked back at the muggles too panicked to notice the hope flickering behind them, and then back to him. "Young Master is helping muggles? But that is not allowed, young master will get punished."

"Are you questioning me, Dobby?" Draco asked calmly, but angrily.

Dobby's ears drooped, before he quickly looked ahead at the advancing ghouls. "Dobby will do as Young Master commands."

Draco nodded. "Very well. Dobby, prevent these monsters from getting past where I stand!"

The small House Elf conjured forth a great deal of magic before erecting a barrier directly in front of himself and his master. The white-glowing barrier extended across the ground level and all the way up to the first and second levels above. The ghouls attempting to advance crashed against it, and futilely beat against it–unable to advance a step further.

"Excellent work Dobby, maintain this!" Draco commanded before turning to the survivors behind him. The light of the barrier cast him in an imperious silhouette, and drew the attention of the muggles who had previously been nearly killing each other to escape.

Draco took a deep breath, and then shouted at the top of his lungs.

"DO AS I COMMAND OR DIE! THE MONSTERS CANNOT ADVANCE SO LONG AS THIS LIGHT SHINES! YOU WILL REGAIN WHAT ENGLISH DIGNITY YOU HAVE AND LEAVE THROUGH THESE DOORS IN AN ORDERLY FASHION, GIVING PRIORITY IN QUEUE TO INJURED, YOUNG, AND ELDERLY! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!"

Panic receded at Draco's instruction, and the crowds began exiting the shopping center in a more orderly fashion. Breathing heavily from relief and the rush that he had managed to achieve something, Draco looked back through the glowing barrier, and at the ghouls beyond it. Insane Vampire Santa had fled, and Draco hoped he hadn't gone far.

"Dobby, as soon as we're finished here, we're going to go vampire hunting," Draco said bravely.

"Yes, Young Master," Dobby obeyed with noticeable reluctance.


The Christmas Dinner spread at the Dursley table was splendid, roast turkey, potatoes, stuffing, brussels sprouts, and so many other delicious staples. The places were set with finest china, excellent glassware, and the silverware looked like it came from at least three generations. It all looked and smelled wonderful. The only thing at the Dursley table that could take away from it were the Dursleys themselves.

And they were doing their ardent best.

"The Special Air Service you say, Captain? My, my… but you're so wonderful with children as well! Mrs. Henderson must be so lucky to have a great man like you," Aunt Marge cooed to the young Captain–who would much rather go for a stroll in South Armagh in full uniform while singing God Save the Queen than suffer the desperate woman's obvious advances.

Eager as he was to throw off said advances, Captain Henderson did not catch the intent of that heavily loaded statement until It was too late. "Oh there is no Mrs. Henderson."

Harry would've had a bit of amusement at the subsequent look of dread on the Captain's face if not for the large and dangerous looking dog that was sitting between himself and Marge.

Harry loved dogs, he even had nothing against Fluffy once all wounds were healed. However he took issue with poorly raised, antisocial kill-engines who were perpetually one careless movement away from maiming someone. Ripper was a pitbull terrier crossed with a PCP-abusing pro wrestler and had about as pleasant a disposition, given his teeth baring at anyone who wasn't Marge.

Petunia openly opposed Ripper's place at the table, it was supposed to be her house after all, and released an agitated sigh. "Marge could you please put Ripper outside while we eat?"

Marge condescendingly laughed off the very idea. "Nonsense, Petunia. My sweet Ripper is a member of this family too." She speared a piece of turkey with her fork and fed it to the dog, before taking another piece with the same fork and eating it.

This won a particularly disgusted grimace from Harry and Henderson. Integra had missed it, because she was stuck in a corner between Vernon and Dudley, the latter boasting over his impressive collection of material possessions like it mattered to a girl who owned an abomination against creation.

"… And for my birthday I got 37 presents more than the year before! I even got two gameboys so I could trade Pokemon with myself," he said proudly. "I was even able to get a Mew."

"That's nice I suppose," Integra said with a well-acted smile.

Vernon was doing his best to hype up whatever nobler qualities Dudley possessed. "Ah yes, he's quite the genius at telly games. They say in the magazines that one day they will become a professional sport, and at his rate Dudders will be a world champion."

Integra wanted to commend Vernon attempting to see the bright side of the horrid mess that he sired, but optimism was easily mistaken for delusion.

"What kind of stuff do you have? You're rich, right?" Dudley asked her.

Integra smiled at the opportunity to backhand these oafs and see if they could realize it. "I don't nearly own as many… things. I have a CD player with a modest collection of my favorite music, I busy myself with more active pursuits than toys and video games."

She wasn't disappointed. An embarrassed Petunia glared subtly at her son and husband for bringing their weak game to the table. Vernon wore the sting of the criticism as well, and Marge… well she just barged on through.

"Don't own many things? My dear, you should be proud of your wealth! Boast it to the world, why… you should've come through that door wearing a ten thousand dollar dress, showing us lesser folk what true success is."

Marge nodded in agreement with herself then looked to Petunia. "It's what I'd do."

Captain Henderson had been relieved that Marge's attention had gone somewhere else–for all of three seconds before she placed it back on him. Much like with Vernon and Dudley, she tried to put herself out there again.

"I'm no nobility, but I've made quite a wealth for myself with my dog breeding. Why, I have so much money I don't think I'll ever be able to spend it all myself." She batted her eyes at him.

South Armagh. In broad daylight. With targets tattooed on his shaved head.

Integra's innocent smile hid well her contempt. "Oh I could never; why my dear late father would come from his grave and scold me badly."

Petunia gave Integra a sympathetic look. "You poor dear, you have my condolences."

"Thank you, but I've gotten along well without him thanks to Harry." Integra smiled warmly again to Harry.

Marge leaned over. "What about your mother, dear?"

Integra grew mildly panicked. "Oh, she's… not around…"

According to Walter, the subject of her mother was better not discussed lest the accidental mention of her name summoned her from beyond where even the Old Ones feared to tread. And that was the impartial account of the marriage between her and Sir Arthur.

Captain Henderson remembered the Lady Hellsing. He also remembered fearing for his life every second he was alone with her.

He would still prefer that to the amorous looks from Marge.

Marge let out a snort. "Honestly, some women are just unfit to be mothers if they are to be like that."

Her eyes darted to Petunia accusingly as she said this. The only person at the table who didn't notice it was Dudley.

Petunia Dursley née Evans was a thin, slight woman who had drank an entire bottle of wine within the last two hours.

That said, even if she was stone cold sober she wouldn't have taken that from her sister-in-law.

Without missing a beat, Petunia agreed. "Yes, some of them thankfully don't have children at least."

Marge almost choked on her wine. "Pft…"

Integra and Harry both exchanged looks.

Captain Henderson used his glass of water to hide his smile as a true Christmas Dinner began.

Vernon's face flushed a deep red in embarrassment as his wife attacked his sister. Not now, he thought in dread, not in front of their wealthy dinner guests. Dudley was too busy stuffing his face and thinking about what he'd play on his new PS2 to care what the adults were on about.

Next to them, Integra watched the scene closely, paying close mind to how Harry reacted to the back and forth.

Petunia's venom stung, but it wasn't enough to take down the beast that was Marjorie Dursley. In fact, it just pissed her off enough to drop the subtext–no alcohol required. "I hope you're not inferring that I would be as awful a parent as you, Tunie," she said with domineering arrogance behind a condescending smile.

That set something off in Petunia and she stood up. "Yes I am!" she snapped, causing the entire table to go silent. She pointed accusingly at her. "How dare you say that I am a horrid parent, when you take every opportunity to undermine me?!"

Dudley again paid the outburst no mind, content with stuffing his face.

Harry grimaced.

Marge stood up, towering over the table. "Undermine?! I'm only treating my darling nephew as he ought to be treated! You're the one who always shrieks and punishes him over the smallest thing! Someone needs to act like a proper parent in this household!"

"Says the woman who raises dogs because no man can conceive the notion of marrying her!" Petunia shouted back.

Captain Henderson tore off a turkey leg and held it up in salute to Mrs. Dursley. It just wasn't Christmas dinner without a fight, and this one was not disappointing in the least.

Vernon rose, gesturing to placate both women. "Petunia, my love… Marjorie… can we just…?"

"At the very least I can raise something!" Marge shot back. "I practically live here because you need all the help you can get!"

"Your help is as welcomed as a back-alley stabbing!" Petunia snarled. "It is all the time with you! If I had bloody known I'd be married to YOU as well when I met Vernon, I would've gone off and tossed myself into a river!" Petunia leaned across the table, pointing at her. "You miserable, controlling, lonely sow! You couldn't get a man to love you for your money!"

Captain Henderson laughed into his palm and poorly disguised it as a cough. Vernon was ashen, stuck between backing up his wife, and deferring to his sister… whose face had gone purple with rage. Reflecting her mental state, Ripper began growling at Petunia, loudly.

Dudley continued to stuff his face.

Integra was fascinated.

Marge was agape. "Did you just…?"

Petunia leaned across the table towards her. "I. Bloody. Well. Said it."

Mount Marjorie exploded. "Well, I never! I always knew you were no good! Vernon thought he had a good egg after meeting you but you really are a disgusting Cokeworth trollop just like your sister!"

Petunia froze, and both Harry and Captain Henderson realized that she was about to spring across the table to attack Marge and subsequently get mauled by a very vicious dog… and her pitbull.

It was at that moment, that Integra had quite enough. She rose up and tapped a knife to her glass, getting everyone's attention. "Well! This has been an enlightening experience, but I'm afraid that I simply cannot stomach anymore of it."

Petunia snapped out of her rage blackout, and Marge turned to Integra with a look of embarrassment that she just made a scene in front of a rich noble. Vernon, Dudley, Harry, and the Henderson looked to her as well.

She set the glass and knife down and looked to Harry. "Harry, I have a question."

"Yes, sir?" Harry asked.

"Is the Ms. Dursley related to you by blood?"

"No sir, only Petunia and technically Dudley."

Integra nodded. "Yes, quite."

She looked to Henderson. "Captain?"

"Aye sir?" Henderson asked.

"Please take Ms. Dursley out to the backyard and do with her as you would do to a particularly bothersome troublemaker back during your time in Ireland."

Henderson was on his feet in a quick instant, a brilliant smile on his face. "Aye, aye, sir!"

He took Marge by her arm. "Please, right this way, Miss. This won't take long."

Against the Hellsing soldier's strength, even the mountainous Marge found difficulty pulling away. "What are you doing? What is the meaning of this?!"

Vernon stood up. "Yes, what are you doing?!"

"Mr. Dursley, I would suggest that you sit down or you'll be next," Integra advised in a cheerful yet deadly tone.

"Let me go," Marge demanded, before she called to her dog, "Ripper, come here boy! Help your mummy!"

Henderson was all smiles as he looked back to the dog now up and padding towards him threateningly. "Aye, that's a good dog, you're more than welcome to come along too."

He swung open the curtained backyard door and forcefully shuffled Marge out, all while ignoring the dog nipping at his leg. As soon as all three were out, Henderson slammed the door.

Not two seconds later, all three remaining Dursleys jumped when they heard one gunshot, the beginning of Marge's horrified scream, and then another gunshot followed by complete silence.

Henderson smoothly strolled back in, slipping his service pistol inside his jacket. "Deed's done, sir. Thank you for the pleasure."

"It's Christmas," Integra simply said.

Vernon was utterly pale. "Did you just…?!"

"Have your sister murdered?" Integra asked. "Yes. I can do that, for you see I am one of the thirteen most powerful people in all of England. The police will come, certainly because of the noise complaint."

"I didn't bring my suppressor, sorry for that," Henderson piped in.

"When they ask me, I will tell them what happened, who I am, and they will clean up the scene and make this all go away as if nothing happened."

She looked to Petunia, and smiled warmly. "Happy Christmas, Mrs. Dursley."

It was at that moment that Harry realized that Sir Arthur was smiling up at his daughter from the pits of Hell.

Vernon just kind of stood there for a moment, his expression reflecting the tumult of emotions going through his head, before he settled on the one that felt right and began to cry.

"Ten years… ten years of her badgery… and it's over…" he wept joyfully. "Bless you, Lady-"

"Sir."

"Bless you, Sir Hellsing," he wept correctly.

Dudley… well he already got his PS2 so he didn't really care. He didn't like Ripper slobbering all over his stuff, anyway.

Petunia was still kind of standing there, shocked. She wondered, for a moment, if this was all a very pleasant dream now and if she should be waking up any moment now? She pinched herself, and when she found she could very much feel pain (dulled as it was by the wine), she smiled pleasantly and sat right back down.

"Yes, bless you indeed, Sir Hellsing," she said to Integra, "Now then. Shall we continue with Christmas Dinner?"

"We do have some time before the police arrive," Integra said, "Harry, please pass the potatoes."

"Of course, sir."

"Nonsense, Harry," Petunia said as she took the bowl. "Allow me."

"Splendid, there's still a turkey leg, Marge usually nicked those for herself and that awful dog," Vernon said, "Hey there, Captain, could you?"

"One turkey leg, coming right up," Henderson said as he began to cut off the turkey leg.

It was as the spirit of Christmas returned to the Dursley Table, that a cellphone rang. Surprised by the sudden intrusion Integra reached into a pocket and produced her phone and checked the caller ID. "It's Commander Fargason, I wonder what he could want."

She answered it. "Hello, Commander."

Five seconds later, her eyes widened. "How many?"

All eyes at the table were on her again.

"… What do you mean an entire shopping centre?!" she shouted. "WHERE'S ALUCARD?!"

Her expression went blank. "He's taken a Challenger 2 and is joyriding around London with a dozen what."

She brought her fingers up to her nose and pushed up her glasses off the bridge to pinch it. "Of course. Walter and Miss Pinkstone are with him? Of course."

She took a deep breath. "We will be there momentarily."

She ended the call and rose from her seat. "Harry, I hate to put you to work this Christmas, but it would appear that there is Shopping Center full of ghouls that need to be dealt with."

Harry smiled, somewhat gratefully. "It's a pleasure, sir."

"Ghouls?" Vernon suddenly said, startled.

"What?" Petunia asked, before it dawned on her. "Oh dear, you're mixed up in that lot as well, aren't you?"

"Yes, but unlike those silly wizards we are ordained by God, Queen, and Country to hunt down and murder that nonsense wherever it may appear to offend British sensibility," Integra said as she got up. "Harry?"

Harry rose, and adjusted his glasses.

"At once, sir."


When the first call came in that Santa Claus was going on a rampage at Surrey Quays and killing everyone in his path, the dispatcher rightfully dismissed it as a crank call from someone who'd watched a bit too much Futurama. After the twenty-third call in as many seconds, the dispatcher professionally handed the situation over to the Police, who referred it immediately to the Hellsing Organization.

About twenty-five minutes after that, Armored Personnel Carriers and Helicopters bearing the Hellsing Coat of Arms were on the scene, cordoning off the shopping center and coming face to face with a rather puzzling situation.

"What do you mean the doors won't open?" Captain Peter Fargason demanded after hearing the call from a Rover parked at the main the entrance of the shopping center. The old squaddie had been out enjoying some brandy at the Officer's Pub when he got the call to muster and save the bloody day and as such was not drunk enough to deal with what was going on.

"We found a number of survivors who'd made it out the North rear entrance, when we attempted to move in to find more, the doors locked and we couldn't get in. "

"Drive a bloody carrier through the doors!" he ordered the men who called him from the rear entrance of the center.

"We tried that, sir, the doors wouldn't budge," came the reply.

The Captain Picard-looking motherfucker (save for a +3 Moustache of Badassery) stroked the parenthesed moustache. "Did you try shooting the glass?"

"Expended half our ammo, sir."

Another soldier looked over from the radio handset he held. "All other entrances are similarly sealed, sir! Nothing we can do can get them open!"

Yet another soldier called out. "Men attempting to breach service entrances and emergency exits cannot approach them. They get close and then forget whatever the hell they were doing!"

Fargason's suspicion that a Wizard had did it was not so much sneaking as clumsily groping in the dark, knocking over everything it touched and making an intolerable racket. "Bloody Wizard shit, well then attempt to breach a wall. We need to get in there and secure any survivors and make sure we can control when and where those ghouls can get out."

"Aye sir."

Somewhere near, somewhere uncomfortably close to all of this action, a complete lizard bitch of a wizard or witch held aloft their wand and gave it a wave. On their unspoken command, every door leading into the shopping centre and the hordes of ghouls inside were flung open, and with them, the undead masses began surging out.

Fargason looked up and gaped at the doors crashing open, and the ghoulish horde that came staggering towards his Rover and the two APCs worth of men that were waiting outside. "Bloody hell, open fire!"

The well-trained men of the Hellsing Organization really didn't need the order. The cannons on the APCs and the rifles and machine guns of the boots on the ground came to life. Blessed silver by the bucket load did not come out of the barrels however. Instead it was frogs.

Frogs being fired at a considerable velocity, but nevertheless frogs.

Fargason recoiled when he saw ghouls getting battered and dismembered by Armor Piercing Amphibians but not being put down. He quickly pulled out his sidearm and fired a few shots. His dead on marksmanship put a frog in the mouth of every ghoul he targeted.

"… Someone is having me on," he said calmly, "And I don't like it."

At that moment, a much more effective barrage than various species of frog fell upon the ghouls advancing heedless to the Hellsing men. Harry's silver knives were like an acid rain, destroying the undead with a speed and efficiency that had the men with Fargason cheering.

Flipping gracefully through the air, Harry turned his descent to a triple axle to right himself and stuck the landing. "Tally-ho!"

"Harry, my boy!" Fargason greeted. "There seems to be a wizard about helping these ghouls. Could you?"

Harry looked over, surprised. "A wizard? Unexpected."

Henderson quickly brought his car up behind the Rover, and both he and Integra disembarked.

"What's the situation?!" Integra ordered.

Fargason stood at attention and saluted. "Sir, the ghouls have completely overrun the mall. It would also appear that a Wizard is assisting the vampire behind this while impeding our efforts in destroying the monsters."

"A wizard? Unexpected," Integra unwittingly repeated.

She looked to Harry. "Harry-"

"Already on it, sir!" Harry declared before he sprang off onto one of the nearby street lamps, and then shot off into the night.

Fargason's radio suddenly screamed to life. "Commander this is north entrance team! we're being pushed back! Our ammunition's coming out as badgers and crows, and they're attacking us!"

Fargason, Integra, and Henderson looked north… and saw sure enough that in addition to the advancing ghouls, large badgers clawing at the legs of the Hellsing Soldiers and crows swooping them from above.

Integra could feel the blood vessel that would one day burst and kill her throbbing. "Where the bloody hell is Alucard?!"

I can't stand fake ass bitches!
Lying-ass niggas and you punk-ass snitches!

That question was answered much sooner than she'd ever imagine it were, as a Challenger 2 Main Battle Tank, precariously ridden by attractive women scantily clad in skimpy winter clothes at best, lingerie at worst, suddenly came drifting around the corner behind them, the music of the esteemed late Tupac Shakur blaring loudly from the speakers strapped haphazardly to the turret.

I can't stand fake-ass bitches!
Lying-ass niggas and you punk-ass snitches!

The tank hadn't even stopped its skid when its barrel–being straddled by a particularly bold young woman carrying an RPG-7–oriented itself and fired with a roar. The canister round from the tank immediately shredded the horde of advancing ghouls in addition to the ammunition-turned-animals that had turned on their shooters.

"Ah, there he is," Fargason said.

From the hatch of the Challenger 2's turret, Alucard popped up with one arm wrapped around a lovely black-haired young woman and a glass of wine in his free hand. "Heeeeey Chocolate Milk, Merry Christmas~"

Integra stared at Alucard and the hot mess that he brought with him. "This is exactly what I signed up for, isn't it?"

Alucard did not sugarcoat it. "Yyyup."

Integra heaved a sigh. "Where's Walter and Carlotta?"

"I dropped them off 'round back, they are having the time of their lives."

He snapped her fingers and pointed in the hooker he held, and the hooker in his embrace snapped her fingers and pointed at Fargason's radio as she winked.

"South Rear team here, Carlotta's mopping up!"

The helpful report was immediately followed by:

"North Rear team reporting, Walter's taking out the trash!"

Hearing that, Henderson looked towards the doors Fargason's men had been stationed at. "Strange… where are all the other ghouls?"

Alucard noticed it too. "You know, I came all the way from the north end when I heard there were hundreds of these things and I'm feeling kinda gypped."

He gestured to his ladies of the night. "I had the girls kitted out and everything. I didn't even have to pay extra for it!"

He stopped and grinned. "But I did."

"And that's why you're our favorite~" the prostitute he held said as she squeezed him.

Fargason looked to Henderson. "Captain, gear up and take a team in to find out what's going on."

Henderson saluted. "Aye, sir."

Integra looked to Alucard. "Take a small break from your fun and games and go hunt the vampire responsible for this. They say he's dressed like Santa Claus."

"Ooh, a chance to finally get off the naughty list," Alucard said before he extricated himself from the tank hatch. "Girls, take five."

Standing atop the turret and letting his red coat unfurl behind him, Alucard looked down and then around. "Where's Mini-Walter?"

"He's taking care of the other problem."


If there was one helpful thing that Wizarding School taught, it was that Dark Wizards tended to bask in their treachery. A Wizard cursing and charming muggles was likely to stick around and watch them suffer from the best vantage possible. Just north of the shopping center were two high rise apartment buildings, where Harry easily found and got the jump upon the robed figure with wearing a golden skull mask and a tall conical hat.

His knives, whipping down upon the robed wizard, narrowly missed thanks in part to the wizard noticing the movement out the corner of their eye. Landing on the snow covered rooftop, Harry produced several more knives and stared at his opponent.

"Well now, who might you be?" Harry asked.

The wizard responded by hissing "Avada Kedavra" they raised and slashed their wand towards Harry, loosing off a green ray of light that the Wizard Butler narrowly avoided.

"You know," Harry said as he avoided another of the deadly bolts, "The Killing Curse…"

He dodged yet another of the spells. "Isn't nearly as difficult to avoid as many who fear it believe!"

He quickly whipped a knife at his attacker, who cast a different spell, turning the knife right back at Harry. The boy wizard let the blade vanish into his right hand's glove while throwing another off the hip with his left.

The knife glanced off the wizard's mask, even as they fired another killing curse at Harry.

Harry slid underneath it, using the snow to give him the momentum he needed to sweep the wizard off their feet. "Tally-ho!"

Rolling up onto his feet as the Wizard flailed about, Harry drew a knife and swung down to put the blade into the wizard's neck, but to his surprise the Wizard blocked it with a cane held in their free hand.

"Oh?" Harry quickly backed away, avoiding the wizard's wand as they both got up onto their feet.

The kicked up snow whirled around him as he watched the wizard rise, their hat lost to reveal platinum blonde hair that cascaded downward past their shoulders.

"Harry Potter…" the wizard snarled at him.

"Wizard arse," Harry replied to his opponent.

The wizard suddenly apparated, much to Harry's surprise, and became a cloudy black streamer that shot past him. Harry wasn't dumbstruck for long, quickly turning around and throwing two knives as the wizard exited apparition at the very edge of the roof and spun around to fire a killing curse at him. The curse struck home, but appeared to instantly disperse before even actually touching Harry, to the Wizard's disbelief.

Harry's two of the knives were much more effective. One struck the mask, shattering it, while the other struck the raised arm of the wizard, which spared his heart the blow.

As Harry summoned a third knife to put into the wizard, they apparated away, this time leaving no streamer at all. Like a human body being sucked violently into a straw, they vanished with a lingering pop.

"Haa… haa… haa…" A panting Harry blinked several times and looked down at his chest, when he realized what just happened. "Bloody wicked… it worked!"

He then heard an explosion, and looked back towards the shopping center. "Ah, oh my."


Insane Vampire Santa had in fact gotten far, having escaped onto the ice-covered waters by the Greenland Dock through the waterways that ran underneath the shopping center. The moment he caught sight of the APCs and soldiers with many guns surrounding the place, he decided it was his best opportunity to mosey on out. It would do him no good to be caught up against all of those army guns.

As he walked onto the thick ice, towards the narrow channel that connected the docks to the River Thames, he let out an ecstatic laugh when he heard nothing but gunfire coming from the shopping centre. The army would be preoccupied with his thralls, and he would be free to spread his gift throughout London. It wouldn't take long at all for him to have more than enough ghouls to tip the balance against such a naughty city.

"Ahem, forgetting something, are we not?" Draco called out to the Vampire.

Insane Vampire Santa whirled around, and found Draco standing on the ice behind him. Dobby stood at his side, coming up to the young wizard's knee.

Draco gestured to his neck. "There's still a one thousand year pedigree that you have yet to properly sample."

Insane Vampire Santa grabbed his round belly and let out a great jolly laugh. "HO HO HO! You're quite the brave little man!"

In an instant, he was glaring with murderous intent at the blonde boy wizard. "I will tear you in half and drink from your ruined entrails as you beg for death."

Draco sniffed. "Riiiight."

The Santa was a blur, his footsteps shattering the thick ice all the way to Draco. It was Dobby who acted as Draco stood still, smugly staring at what by all accounts would be his horrible death racing towards him. Holding out his hand, Dobby's House-Elf Magic grabbed Vampire Santa out of the air, stopping him cold.

"W-what?!" Insane Vampire Santa demanded.

"Up," Draco ordered.

On Draco's command, Dobby lifted Insane Vampire Santa up into the air.

"Let me go, you little shit-"

"Down."

Dobby levitated him downward, at high enough a speed to crack the ice under Insane Vampire Santa's chin. "URK!"

Draco held out his hand. "Up, down, left, right, down, down, down, left, then right again."

Dobby obeyed and Santa went up then down onto the ice. Then he went left, into the wall of the channel, before being slammed into the opposite wall. As he bounced off the wall, he was slammed down again, then again, then again, before violently whipped back and forth once more.

Insane Vampire Santa rolled across the ice, and tried to get up again, the impact having put him under the street that crossed the channel. Draco smirked.

"Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right."

Insane Vampire went up twice into the underpass, then downward into the ice twice with enough force to shatter it the second time. He went into the walls again with greater force.

Dobby held aloft the maniacal bloodsucker, who was looking quite bloodied for his troubles. "What shall I do with the nasty creature, Master?"

Draco folded his arms. "Hmm… I suppose I'm done amusing myself with it."

His smirk became a nasty grin. "Tear it in half."

As Dobby held up his other hand to do just that, Insane Vampire Santa suddenly grinned, and with a mighty throw whipped a chunk of ice he had gripped in his hand straight at Dobby. The House Elf barely had time to react, and was struck flying backward past his master.

Draco grew wide eyed and looked back. "Dobby!"

He turned back, and there was the viciously grinning Santa Vampire, hands raised to wring his pure-blooded neck. "Ho! Ho! Ho! Not so much without your pet, now are you?"

Draco dropped onto his rear on the ice, and began to scramble back from Insane Vampire Santa.

"Now, it's time for a naughty little boy to get what's coming to him~"

"I couldn't agree more."

Insane Vampire Santa stopped and looked up to see Alucard standing on the ice, wearing his own smile. "Ho, Ho?"

Draco turned to face Alucard, and stared. Who the bloody hell was this?

"You know, some people would pay an arm and a leg for a chance to be Santa Claus," Alucard informed Insane Vampire Santa.

Before Insane Vampire Santa could form a response, gunfire roared from Alucard's titanium nitride-finished piece, the explosive .454 rounds hitting and blasting off his right arm and left leg.

As Insane Vampire Santa collapsed, howling in pain, Alucard lowered the gun just a little. "That should about cover the cost… but let's be sure…"

Two more shots took off the other arm and leg, leaving Insane Vampire Santa more Insane With Pain Vampire Santa.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?!" he bellowed. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Draco stared in amazement at the gruesome result of Alucard's accurate shooting, then looked up at Alucard as he walked by and towards his eviscerated prey.

Insane Vampire Santa looked at his ruined limbs, and then back up at Alucard, who stood over him, still grinning. "Wha… what the…? Huh?"

"You know, I have this whole schtick where I let a guy beat on me a bit, tear me apart to messy chunks… and then I pull myself together and brutally kill them when they realize how fucked they are." Alucard looked back at Draco, and then back at him. "But I literally just watched you get your ass handed to you by a ten year old wizard and his House-Elf."

He then removed his hat and tossed it casually over his shoulder for it to land upon Draco's head, before taking Insane Vampire Santa's hat and placing it upon his black-as-the-void hair. He then grabbed him by his suspenders "So instead, I'm gonna do this!"

Over on the shore, the Challenger 2's barrel angled skyward, and the hookers inside and standing atop it all shouted as one. "PULL!"

With great ease, Alucard yanked Insane Vampire Santa and threw him straight up into the air, right into the sights of the Challenger 2. The tank's gun roared, and a high explosive round struck Insane Vampire Santa and blew him into a rapidly incinerating mist.

As the freaky vampire became a rapidly expanding ball of flame, Alucard hummed in satisfaction. "That one was for you Arthur, you son of a bitch, Merry fucking Christmas."

He then looked back at Draco, who was staring in silent awe up at him from under the brim of his hat.

"I'm gonna need that back." He looked up at his newly acquired Santa hat. "… In a few hours."

With that he strolled back over to the shore where the tank was. "Well that about wraps things up here, girls. What say we get this party going again?!"

"Okay, Santa-baby~!" the vivacious and voluptuous crew of the tank sang back.

The dope rhymes of the great, late Tupac Shakur blaring from the tank's speaker system soon started up, and the Main Battle Tank was off like a rocket, overturning cars and causing mayhem as it drove back off to do whatever its driver damn well pleased.

Draco just sat there, still gaping at where Alucard had been standing.

Luckily, Carlotta was along to get him and Dobby out of there moments before the cracked ice completely fractured and they could fall in.


Draco was still in a trance of awe as he sat in the back seat of Integra's car. Integra, Carlotta, Harry, and Commander Fargason were standing outside, the whole lot of them now sipping tea to fend off the cold winter night while Harry was debriefed.

"A gold mask and a pointed hat," Carlotta said with a grimace. "A Death Eater, one of Voldemort's followers."

Harry nodded. "It definitely was. I took a Killing Curse to the chest and the blood protection worked like Professor Dumbledore said it would."

Integra spat out her tea and looked to him in horror. "Harry!"

"Well I couldn't help it, he had me quite good with that apparate trick of his. At least I think it was a him… he apparated away before I could get a good look."

"What did he look like?" Carlotta asked.

"Long blonde hair, rather feminine… had a wand and a cane."

Carlotta narrowed her eyes. "Sounds like Lucius Malfoy. Oh this will be a treat."

Harry glanced towards Draco, and then returned his attention to Integra and Carlotta. "What should we do about this? If it was Draco's father, that's going to make our friendship a bit of the rough sort."

Integra looked to Draco. He had acquitted himself well against a vampire, albeit with help from his House Elf, but what he lacked in practical skills of his own he made up for with raw nerve. Raw nerve that a Hellsing could not only respect, but employ…

A smile graced Integra's lips. "Miss Pinkstone."

"Ah, yes sir?" the old but vibrant witch answered.

"Send an owl to Professor Dumbledore, tell him that I wish to meet him in the morning regarding what happened here tonight. And, ah… who is the current head of your Aurors?"

"That would be Amelia Bones, sir. She and I go way back, and she is quite the pleasant person. Makes excellent cake for tea."

"Contact her as well," Integra ordered, "I believe I have found myself yet another dependable butler."


Inside the eerily quiet Surrey Quays Slaughterhouse, Captain Henderson had found the answer to his dilemma, but it was the sort of answer that left more questions. The unaccounted for ghouls were all present inside, and they all had been butchered with violence that would have Alucard proud. They were everywhere, pieces of them were at least, and for all intents and purposes, not another living thing could be seen or found.

Except for one, and that gave Henderson an uncomfortable clue as to what was responsible.

At the very center of the shopping center, he found a bushy-haired and blood-splattered girl sitting with her knees drawn to her chest in the only open space of clean floor in the entire (literally) bloody mess. Just outside of the circle, numerous ghouls hacked to pieces or pulverized with explosives lay in heaps around her.

"Oh, bloody hell," Henderson muttered, more to himself than the girl, when he saw that the circle itself was made up of pages from the Catholic Bible.

He looked over to the girl, who looked slowly looked up at him with the sort of stare a serviceman would have after days of non-stop combat.

"Hey, did you see who did this?" he asked.

Hermione Granger looked around at the mess around her, and then back up at the man. She was rather grateful he didn't ask if she was all right, because seeing your parents turned into meat paste by Insane Vampire Father Christmas was not something you were all right after. "… It was a girl… a nun… with a sword…"

She blinked, and looked at her blood covered hands, before looking up at him again.

"And… an angel…"


= = =


Yep.
 
6. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Kill Them
The best chapter.

= = =


Henderson: The following is a fan-written parody. Harry Potter is property of J.K Rowling and is published by Bloomsbury Publishing and Arthur A. Levine Books. Hellsing Ultimate is property of Kouta Hirano and Studio Madhouse, and licensed by Geneon, Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, and Funimation. Hellsing Ultimate Abridged is the collaborative effort of TeamFourStar. Please support the Official Release.

Fargason: Well disclaimed, Captain.

Henderson: Thank you, sir!


When the Wizarding War ended abruptly in 1990, the forces of good had triumphed over the forces of evil thanks in no small part to Crimson Fuckery. However, while most Death Eaters who weren't killed by Dumbledore, Moody, or various Potters, Prewetts, Weasleys, and Longbottoms went to jail for their crimes, the smarter ones managed to weasel their way out thanks to such things as wealth, prestige, and snitching.

Some of these smart Death Eaters were so successful in their Houdini-esque escape of karma, that they actually found themselves in the very positions of power they tried to take by force. Many found comfortable jobs in the Ministry of Magic, while some held onto their vast wealth and influence. Others even gained fame and fortune for telling of their experiences as Death Eaters.

Almost all, however convinced they were of Lord Voldemort's demise, at the very least still believed in the cause they championed: the elimination of muggle-born wizards and the subjugation/extermination of all muggles everywhere.

Avery was a second generation Death Eater, the son of one of the original founding Death Eaters back when they were known by the much cooler name, "The Knights of Walpurgis". Back during the war he had a modest showing, didn't die, and got out of jail with a "I was Mind Controlled" defense. After that, he went to work in the Ministry as a license maker, and made life for many a mudblood a living hell by making them jump extra hoops for certifications.

All-in-all, he made it out quite well, he had no complaints about his life now. But as with Houdini and death, karma caught up with him in the form of a very scary masked man dressed in black, who was currently holding his head under a barrel full of rainwater.

Had Avery a wand, or his hands not tied behind his back, he probably would've been able to cast a charm to protect himself from this, but he didn't. Instead, he had to wait for the masked man to pull him out of the water before he aspirated too much of it.

"You know, Mr. Avery, this is every bit as unpleasant for me as it is for you," he said in a droll-sounding voice.

The masked man was a young-looking one in his late twenties or early thirties dressed in a slim black jacket, pants, and a black scarf that hung loosely around his neck. He had slick, shoulder-length black hair that framed his face well. The mask that covered his eyes, nose–with long tear-like streaks that ran down his cheeks–made him look intimidating enough.

"My jacket's sleeves are getting wet and it's rather cold in this barn."

"What… what in Merlin's name… is wrong with you?!" the assaulted and confused wizard demanded. He had every right to be the latter, he'd been walking from his office to the floo so he could get home from a long day of sticking it to the muddies, when this arsehole suddenly had him in a full nelson.

And now he was being steadily drowned, and it was not pleasant.

"Word on the cobblestone streets, is that you and a few of your Death Eater friends have been meeting up in secret when you've long claimed to have been under Imperius during that particularly unpleasant time and should have no desire to do it again," the masked man said. "Tell me, what's all that about?"

"I-I don't have to explain myself to you-!"

"Explain it to the barrel, then." With that, Avery was dunked face-first into the water again. After about seven seconds, he was yanked back out.

"Sorry if the barrel's not much of a conversationalist, it is an amazing listener, though."

"Y-you're mad!" the former Death Eater screamed through a mouthful of water.

"Not particularly. A madman would be using Cruciatus to get what he wants out of you. Do you want me to be a madman?"

That seemed to change Avery's tune just a little bit. "W-we meet, yes… j-just outside Hogsmeade… near the school!"

"How many of you?" the masked man asked.

"There are ten of us!"

"That's quite the number, who would've thought that so many of you would meet as Death Eaters after being under Imperio? Is it something you do to cope? Because I can understand."

The masked man pulled back the drenched jacket sleeve of his left arm, revealing a brand of a snake protruding from a skull's mouth. "All this is how I deal with my time in."

Seeing it, Avery grew wide-eyed and tried to look back at his assailant. "What the devil…?!"

The sleeve was yanked down, and the masked man grabbed Avery again in preparation to dunk him back in the bucket. "Why Hogsmeade, Avery? And don't try to lie."

"B-because one of our own is on the inside at Hogwarts! He's seen the Dark Lord! He knows that he still lives!"

"How often do you meet?" he asked.

"Once every full moon, s-since October!" Avery yelped.

"Why haven't the Dark Marks been activated?"

"B-because it's too close to the school!"

The masked man stopped, and rested his head against the side of Avery's. After a moment, he seemed to tense up. "Bollocks… you're telling the truth."

Avery looked towards the masked man in disbelief. "L-Legilimency?! What was the point of the barrel?!"

"Because it's hard to do Occlumency when you're busy being drowned you pillock," the masked man said.

He then looked to the barrel. "And on that specific note, it's time we end our association, Mr. Avery."

Avery began to struggle. "Y-you can't do this! I'm an employee of the Ministry! Who… who do you think you are?!"

The masked man suddenly shoved Avery forward, stopping with his head just inches above the surface of the rain barrel's filthy water, and leaned close.

"I'm the Half-Blood Prince," he quietly replied, before shoving his head under the water.

As Avery began to kick and struggle, the masked man pulled back and waved his hand, freezing the water solid and trapping his head underneath. Producing a single lily, he tossed it upon the struggling man's back as his struggles began to cease.

After casting a charm to dry out his jacket, the Half-Blood Prince ran his fingers through his slick hair and hummed. "The next meeting's a few weeks away. Well, at least it will give me time to prepare treats for everyone."


Harry Potter and the Endless Night
Chapter 6: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Kill Them


Since the dust up with Fluffy, Harry, Hermione, and Ron had taken to spending time with Hogwarts' resident half-giant and gamekeeper Hagrid after all bygones were made bygones. On days where they didn't have class at tea time, the could be invariably found at his homely little shack either by themselves, in pairs, or all together, enjoying excellent tea brewed by a proper British butler and cakes that may or may not have been made out of rock.

In all honesty, Harry and Hermione were a tad wary to try them–Ron enjoyed them plenty enough, though.

On this particularly nice day in early May, all three students were joined by Neville in their daily ceremony. The young Gryffindor had only recently found out of the tea meetings, and at Ron's insistence he shyly joined them.

"Good ter see yeh in high spirits again, Hermione!" Hagrid said cheerfully to the young witch as Harry served the two of them some tea. "Yeh bin so quiet an' sad these last few months."

Hermione smiled. "Well, it took some adjusting, but everyone has been wonderfully supportive in Ravenclaw. And during Easter Break I began volunteering."

Hagrid grinned. "Joined th' Muggle Guides, eh?"

Hermione let out a small giggle. "Oh no, something a little more involved…"

During Easter Break

A hail of bullets tore apart a target at the end of a firing range. On the other end of the range, dressed as a Victorian Maid as Carlotta tended to be, Hermione released the trigger of the empty P90 submachine gun she clutched properly in both hands.

Just behind her, Harry and Integra broke into light applause.

"W-wow," Hermione said as she looked down at the gun, "This… this has quite the kick."

"But you held on marvelously," Integra said, "So what do you think? Your style?"

Hermione hummed as she considered how she handled the gun. "Can I try the Stechkin again?"

And now the present

"… And it has proven extremely effective in helping me recover from what happened."

Her gaze kind of darkened. "Though there is still a need."

She took a sip of tea and brightened. "Excellent tea as usual, Harry!"

Harry had finished pouring Neville's cup, and returned to his seat. "Thank you."

"That's me girl, yeh're strong as yeh're smart!" Hagrid congratulated, to which Hermione beamed.

Neville, who kinda, sorta, passive-aggressively blamed the tragedy on Harry due to the fact that violence seemed to follow him everywhere, had a foreboding suspicion that Hermione's post-trauma therapy involved being mixed up with whatever Harry was. Still, it seemed to really help put her back towards being the girl she was at the beginning of the year instead of the quiet recluse she was between Christmas and Easter Break, so he wasn't going to complain about it.

Now, Ron on the other hand, had been completely morose for the last three days as if someone had murdered his parents. Even now, as he nursed his cup of tea, he appeared ready to cry.

The reason? Well, it was so relatively mundane that Neville found it a cherished breather from all the other intensity.

"What 'bout yeh, Ron? Why the long face?" Hagrid asked as he too noticed that Ron seemed very little interest in anything, not even the rock cake he tore into like a challenge to all dentists everywhere.

Ron looked up. "Oh, it's just… I can't find Scabbers anywhere. He's completely vanished."

"That's no good!" Hagrid said. "I know a thing 'bout losin' a pet."

He sighed lamentably. "I 'ad me a Norwegian Ridgeback. Named 'im Norbert… then word got out, Slughorn 'ad me ship 'im off not a week after 'e hatched!"

"A dragon?" Hermione asked, aghast. "But owning one is illegal!"

"Don' be a narc, Hermione," Hagrid said.

"I'm not being a narc, I'm just saying they're illegal." Hermione crossed her arms. "Even I know that snitches get stitches."

Hagrid shook his head. "Wish I knew who ratted me out." He stopped when he saw Ron's head droop low again. "Oh, sorry there, Ron."

"You're fine," Ron said.

"We looked all over for him," Harry said, "Not even his older brothers in Gryffindor could help."

And the twins Fred and George could get anywhere in the school, an ability that vexed Harry even now. He needed to know their secret…

"Perhaps you could offer us some insight, Hagrid?" Harry continued.

"Aye, I know a bit 'bout Scabbers, a clever, old rat. Bin 'round since Bill an' Charlie were startin'. Hard to say what goes on in those beady eyes."

Hermione made a face. "That long? That rat must be beyond ancient!"

"Venerable, even," Neville said.

"Nuttin' strange 'bout it, magic creatures live lots longer o'er muggle sorts." He gestured to the extremely large Great Dane that had laid his head in Neville's lap the moment he sat down. "Ol' Fang 'ere, I 'ad 'im since the 70s."

The dog yawned, revealing vicious-looking teeth, before settling back to snore softly.

"Now if yeh wanna talk mys'try, I gots one fer yeh," Hagrid said. "Summat be killin' unicorns out 'ere in the Forest. Found 'nother one dead this morning, I did. Blood drained outta 'em."

Hermione, who liked Unicorns, gasped.

Neville, who loved Unicorns, nearly fainted.

Ron, who dreamed of being a Unicorn in his younger years because his sister loved them, nearly crushed the teacup in his hand.

Harry, who shared Ron's dream to this day, was mutedly aghast. "You would have to be awful evil to do that."

"Who… or what would do such a thing?!" Hermione demanded.

"I dunno, but would be nice if I 'ad some 'elp in findin' who," Hagrid said, before leaning in closer to Harry, "'int-'int."

Harry paused. "Oh, you want me to help you find the Unicorn Killer? Su-"

Ron slammed his fist on the table, and the whole shack shook. "BLOODY COUNT ME IN!"

Neville, who was now cradling a startled Fang in his lap as though he were another, more popular Great Dane, gaped at Ron after looking around at the shaking rafters of Hagrid's home.

Hermione was similarly startled… but now oddly fascinated by Ron.

Harry adjusted his tie, and nodded. "Of course, Hagrid, I'd love to assist you."

After all, with Alucard around and Hermione to train, it had been since Christmas since he hunted something with a pulse that needed to be stopped.

"I… I would like to come as well," Hermione said after finally tearing her eyes from the fist-shaped indent in the table left by Ron's punch.

She looked to Harry. "It's the sort of thing I've trained for, after all."

Neville knew it, Hermione was caught up in that mess! "Can I come, t-too?"

Everyone else in the shack, including Fang, looked at Neville in disbelief.

"Er…" Hagrid was looking for words to say, but saying the boy ought to not go because he was as soft as butter left to sit out for a few hours would've been unprofessional even for him.

Hermione was gentle with him. "Neville, I think this sort of thing might be dangerous."

"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed.

Neville bowed his head, quickly defeated. "I suppose you're right."

Hagrid, relieved that he didn't have to tell him no, reached over and patted Neville's small shoulder with his giant hand. "I know yeh worried 'bout yeh friends, but don' be. Harry an' Hermione are strong, and Ron's a got tha' Prewett Madness like 'is brothers, Uncles, and Mum."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Prewett Madness?"

"I promise, though," Harry said, "Whatever I kill out there, I'll have it stuffed and mounted for you, what do you say, Neville?"

Neville, who loved Unicorns but was still very concerned for his friends, nodded. "I… I suppose. You will be careful, right?"

Harry nodded. "I swear upon my magic, I will, and so will Hermione and Ron."

"You're bloody well right!" Ron said.

"Of course," Hermione said before she looked to Ron. "What's this about Prewett Madness?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders.

Neville, reassured, managed to smile and nod. Inside though, he had his still very valid concerns.

Outside the shack at that very moment, her ear close to the open window, Pansy Parkinson wore a beatific smile, before she discreetly pushed away from the side of the cabin and began skipping off towards the Forbidden Forest.

Down the path of the forest she trotted, heedless of the overwhelming danger that lurked within it, until she came onto a solitary figure that stood in a dark clearing with the light completely blocked by the trees. Hands folded behind her back, she bowed politely to the figure, that had its back to her.

"Ickle Harry is coming out tonight, Hagrid finally has had himself enough of cleaning up dead unicorns, my lord," she reported.

"Finally," the dark figure hissed back at her. "What perfect timing, as well…"

Pansy smiled. "Will we be destroying them?"

The figure raised a finger, "Of course! It will happen this very night."

Pansy nodded. "If I may, my lord, I have an idea to ensure it."

"Go on?" the raspy voice replied.

Pansy brought her hands up in front of her and clapped them together. "A hostage and meat shield. A foolish toad who can be easily tricked to coming here out of dire concern for his ickle friends."

"Longbottom?"

"Longbottom."

The raised finger quickly turned into a thumb's up. "Good shit. Get on that."

As Pansy was about to leave, the voice called out. "Oh, don't leave quite yet. I have a few gifts for you."

Pansy beamed. "A gift, for me?!"

The dark figure then tossed a flask over its shoulder to Pansy, who caught it. "When you're in mortal trouble, drink this."

Pansy caught it, and bowed again. "Thank you, my lord!"

"But that's not the best thing," the dark, awful figured declared.

"What could be better than this reassurance, my lord?"

"Why, a new pet."

A large object dropped from the trees and landed in front of Pansy, who did not jump back in fear or flinch. As she stared at the creature that appeared before her, she slowly looked up and grinned as many, many more creatures began to slowly descend towards her.

"Oh… my favorite," she purred happily.


Later in that afternoon, Dumbledore returned to his office after his usual afternoon of patrolling the school to mess around with student and staff alike in his usual cheery old manner. He shot the breeze with Minerva, watched the Hufflepuffs practice their quidditch (that new substitute seeker of theirs, Cedric Diggory, what a guy!), sat in on a potions class transfigured as a statue, broke up a fight between Percy Weasley and nine Slytherins (for the latter's sake), and nicked off to Hogsmeade for a pint with Carlotta while they reminisced about the war. All in all, his day was quite wonderful.

"Lemon drop?" The Half-Blood Prince offered the wizened old wizard the second he walked in.

And then it wasn't.

"Oh dear," Dumbledore said upon seeing the smartly dressed masked man seated at his desk. "Hello, Severus, I didn't think it would take you so long to get back."

"Well, it did take until about Christmas for certain news to reach me. Fancy that."

Dumbledore nodded. "Petunia told you, didn't she?"

"The very first owl I got from her, yes."

"Oh dear," Dumbledore repeated.

"After that it became readily apparent why I was wasting my time in Albania. He who I was looking for was most certainly not there anymore. When I return, I find out of more news that somehow took a great deal longer to reach me than it should have."

Dumbledore nodded. "I suppose you blame me for withholding that information."

"I could, but it wouldn't matter much, now would it?" The Half-Blood Prince asked.

"Not really; there is nothing you could do to me unless I let you."

The Half-Blood Prince agreed. "Yes, I'm most certainly not into that sort."

Dumbledore nodded, sadly.

He popped a lemon drop into his mouth before standing up. "All I really want to know is why."

"Severus… how many bodies have you left between here and Albania and back?" Dumbledore asked.

The Half-Blood Prince patted Fawkes on the head, before looking over. "Not enough."

"Exactly; the last thing Wizarding Britain needs is another mass-murdering Dark Wizard running around doing as he pleased."

The Half-Blood Prince seemed hurt by that. "Honestly, Professor, what do you take me for?"

"A revenge-driven maniac who will kill anyone in his way without hesitation."

"… True, but what do you know me as?"

"A revenge-driven maniac who will kill anyone evil in his way without hesitation. The problem is, my dear Severus, is that the war is ten years over and the people you're murdering left and right are either renounced or reformed," Dumbledore replied. "At least in the eyes of the general public."

"Yes, but as I'm sure you've divined in your old age… the general public are pillocks," The Half-Blood Prince argued.

Dumbledore let out a sigh. "You're much like a young Alastor, you know."

"Yes, and speaking of I visited him several weeks ago. He was quite happy to see me. We had tea, he gave me the whereabouts of Mr. Avery."

Who had been found face-down in a frozen barrel in a barn outside of London. Due to the proximity of the spate of human enemas given to cows, it had been written off as more of the same.

"This is what I was concerned over," Dumbledore said. There was quite the outcry over the death of the ex-Death Eater, particularly among other ex-Death Eaters.

"Worried that my mere presence will start another war with the Death Eaters? Well you'll be relieved to know that no such thing will happen." The Half-Blood Prince patted Fawkes again. "Young Mr. Potter's return to the Wizarding World did that all on its own."

He plucked a feather from the phoenix, who consented to the procedure. "I have simply rushed to join it."

As Dumbledore watched, The Half-Blood Prince tucked the feather into his jacket… before giving him a wry look. "And the battlefield is closer than you think."

With that, he disapparated, vanishing with a pop.

Staring at the empty spot, Dumbledore sighed. Severus Snape was always a brilliant lad, so much so that he offered him the position of Potions Master back in the day. Of course, with all of the torture and murder of other Dark Wizards creating a schedule conflict, he had to reluctantly decline.

Now he was back, performing his murderous trade in Britain again.

Dumbledore would be adjusting his robes awkwardly whenever he thought about it.

"Oh my dear Fawkes, if I were only fifty years younger," he lamented to his phoenix companion.


Later that evening, as the scattered clouds pulled back to reveal an ominously full moon, Argus Filch and Mrs. Norris left Hogwarts with three small robed figures following behind them in a straight line. It was Harry, Ron, and Hermione, being led to Hagrid's shack for their night patrol.

Under normal circumstances, Filch would be happy to be leading students off to the Forbidden Forest to leave them with Hagrid. Any child doing this sort of duty was being punished for some infraction of the rules and rightfully deserved the extremely high risk of dismemberment and death that came with setting foot in such an aptly named place. That these three were volunteering for this didn't sit right with him.

Not that he'd admit it. Appearances to uphold, and all.

"Night like this, with the moon full and the air so clear–good night for werewolves," Filch gruffly said.

"I've never actually killed a werewolf before," Harry admitted, "Hope they're not anything like the one my Grandfather fought."

"Oh, I'm sure they're worse," Filch warned.

Somewhere hidden off in Brazil, the sudden maniacal laughing of a Waffen-SS Captain who had been otherwise perfectly silent for the last 55 years sent his subordinates (and, surprisingly, his superiors) running for their very non-standard lives.

"What're yeh fillin' their heads with, Argus? Ain't werewolves in the forest!" Hagrid called over to the approaching group. "Not since Albus was through back in '93."

The very christmas after that incident, Hagrid got a new fur coat that was extraordinarily warm and comfortable. Filch too received such fine werewolf wares, but he gave them to his niece as a gift.

"Just telling them what sort of nonsense they might get into. That forest is full of evil things, wrong things. 'Specially if they're killing Unicorns." Flich sneered. "World's gone mad if something would kill something so pure–my niece loves those things."

He then scowled at Harry. "So you'd better find it and kill it so she'll have some to look forward to when she starts next year, boyo."

Harry wondered why Filch kept mentioning his niece to him. She loved Unicorns, Mrs. Norris, and was allegedly cute, so she couldn't be that bad.

"I certainly will," Harry assured him.

"Good lad," Filch said before nodding to Hagrid. "I'll be back for 'em in the morning, what's left anyway."

With that, the caretaker and his cat left, and a bemused Hagrid looked down at Harry. "Nicest I've ever seen him bin ter a student."

Ron scratched his ruddy hair. "That was nice?"

"Well, enough o' that. We 'ave work ter do," Hagrid then said before bringing up the lead with Fang on it. "Come now, I wanna show yeh summat."

Hagrid turned and walked into the forest, with Harry, Ron, and Hermione sticking much closer. It didn't feel like very long, but before they knew it they were in near pitch darkness–the dense leaves overhead all but blocking out the light of the moon. Shadows loomed around them, made longer and by the white light that shone from the tip of the umbrella that concealed Hagrid's wand, carried in the half-giant's free hand.

Ron swallowed nervously, as he scanned the darkness around him. He felt safe knowing Hagrid, Harry, and Hermione were close… but he was still just a normal student surrounded by monstrous people.

The group soon came upon something that glittered in the light cast by Hagrid's umbrella, a puddle of silvery liquid at the food of a tree.

"This here," Hagrid said, "Is Unicorn's blood. Fairly fresh, found lots of it spread 'round."

Harry knelt down close to it, before looking around. There were many such splotches of blood. "So it's wounded… walking…"

"Aye," Hagrid said. "The plan is we find it, an' if there be summat after it, we kill the beasty and be done with it. Not ter hard, aye?"

Harry nodded. "No, not at all."

He stood up again. "This isn't my first enthusiastic walk through the woods."

Hagrid felt that sounded more ominous that really should have. "Harry, Hermione, yeh take Fang and go down the path that way."

He pointed off into the forest to his right. "Ron an' I will go o'er ter the lake. If yeh get inter trouble, send up red sparks, and if yeh find the unicorn, send up green."

Harry took the lead from Hagrid, and smiled to the oversized dog. Fang, who smelled blood and horror but also a gentle fondness for dogs off from Harry, licked his face.

"Hehe, thank you Hagrid," Harry said after scratching Fang behind the ear. "Come along, Hermione."

Hermione nodded and then looked to Ron. "Be careful, Ron, and good luck!"

Ron nodded back. "You too," he wished while wondering why those two would need such well-wishings.

He looked over to Hagrid. "Why'd I even say that? It's not like there's something those two couldn't handle out there."

Right as he said that, Ron wondered why it suddenly seemed so ominous.


With Fang trotting between them, Harry and Hermione searched further into the foreboding darkness of the forbidden forest. A light charm off the tips of their wands illuminated the path and the glittery blood of the injured unicorn. The brilliance of its luster meant that this was fresher, giving them hopes that it was close.

"Say, Harry, what does Sir Integra think of unicorns?" Hermione asked.

Harry hummed. "Well, for her eleventh birthday she wanted to ride a unicorn, so Professor Pinkstone, Grandfather, and I attempted to find one for her."

Hermione stared. "Somehow I can't imagine a unicorn approaching any of you on peaceful terms."

"Actually, unicorns are very appreciative of people who destroy monsters," Harry said. "So we were able to find one."

Hermione was surprised. "Really! What happened?"

"Well, we brought it to the property and introduced it to Integra," Harry said, "And it let her ride on its back around the mansion's grounds."

"I can't help but feel that a second shoe is about to fall," Hermione aptly observed.

"Almost immediately after, Sir Penwood showed up with his gift… and the unicorn abandoned Sir Integra on the spot for him."

Hermione gaped at Harry. "You mean… Vice-Admiral Penwood…"

"Owns a unicorn, and they are the dearest of friends."

Hermione blinked slowly, several times, as she processed that. "… Huh. I expected a more violent outcome."

Harry nodded in agreement. "So did I."

Fang suddenly lunged ahead, tugging Harry behind after him, as his sniffing caught him on to something. "Whoa!"

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as she pursued the dragged along young butler, who was pulled along by the Boarhound until it leaped upon and tackled to the ground its quarry, who it began licking enthusiastically.

Harry peered down at Neville, who was squirming under the slobbery affection of the Boarhound. "Neville?"

"Harry!" Neville said, but Fang was licking his face. "I came… to warn… you…!"

Harry tugged on Fang's lead. "Yes, yes, you love him. Could you please let him speak?"

Fang, tail wagging hurriedly, withdrew and Neville sat up to wipe his face of drool. "Harry, I came to warn you of something terrible. I know who's attacking the unicorns!"

Harry and Hermione shared a look, before the latter urged Neville to continue silently.

Neville nodded. "It's Pansy Parkinson."

"Oh please tell me this is true," Hermione said, desiring an excuse.

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

"She told me," Neville said.

Wait. "Why would Pansy tell you that she-"

Neville pointed his wand at Harry's chest. "Avada Keda-"

A swift kick to Neville's solar plexus from Harry knocked the wind out of him and sent him to his knees. As Neville crumpled to the ground coughing and wheezing, both Harry and Hermione found Pansy standing on the other side of the clearing, leaning back against a tree, wearing a black long-sleeved leotard and skirt. In her hand, she held her wand, and around her waist was a simple black cord from which a silver flask hung. She had a mildly disappointed look on her face.

"Hello Potter, Granger," she greeted them.

Hermione was happy–she had an excuse.

"Well," Harry said as he produced a few knives. "I'm sure you came here with every intention of being clever and intimidating and the sort, but I'm only going to go straight to inflicting extraordinary amounts of harm upon your person."

"The bloody hell you are, Potter," Hermione said as she readied her wand. "Respect the queue."

"Then by all means, ladies first," Harry insisted. He needed to keep his eyes on the clearly imperiused Neville after all.

Pansy giggled. "Ahuhuhuhu… if you're concerned about queue do not worry. There will be plenty to go around for the two of you."

Harry suddenly became very aware of the fact that the shadows beyond the clearing were moving. Oh, and Fang had slipped his lead and was running in the other direction as fast as a Great Dane could reasonably run.

Hermione stopped, and recoiled when a spider the size of a football slowly crawled up from Pansy's back to her shoulder, and then onto the side of her face. When she glanced to Harry she saw he was looking up, and when she followed his gaze her mouth fell open when she saw more spiders–gigantic Acromantulas the size of draft horses–descending from the leaf canopy overhead.

As more of the spiders, ranging from the size of a rat to that of a small car, began to emerge from the trees that ringed the clearing, Pansy giggled again as she brought a hand up to pet the acromantula on her face.

"Ahuhuhuhu… there will be more than you can ever handle!"

With the simple gesture of her nodding her head, the Acromantulas attacked Harry and Hermione.


Over with Hagrid and Ron, the only hint that anything was amiss came with an observation from Hagrid.

"Huh, I don' see any Acromantulas abou'."

That made Ron nearly stumble mid-step before he shot his gaze up to Hagrid. "I'm sorry, there aren't any what about?"

"Acromantulas, I raised one when I was a student." Hagrid shook his head. "Had to let 'im go inter th' forest after a scandal."

Ron stared at Hagrid, still disbelieving. "There's an A-Acromantula in the forest that you just decided not to mention?"

Ron was terrified of spiders, extremely so. Mostly because of a thing involving a very large spider when he was eight. The less said of it, the better.

"Well, there's a lotta more than one. Aragog-"

"Oh Merlin, you named it."

"-was lonely, so I got 'im a wee girlfriend to keep him company."

Ron's mouth moved, but words did not come out. There was a breeding pair of Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest. As terrified as he was of Spiders, he knew his enemy well, and he knew how many of those horrors even one couple could make.

Finally, a word did escape his lips. "… WHY."

Hagrid stared uncomprehendingly at Ron. "Acromantulas ain't that bad, at least Aragog isn't. Actually rather good conversation, an' th' kids are cute."

Ron's gaze unfocused for a moment, as he tried to comprehend Hagrid's apparent love for spiders, and found only a winking void as his mind blacked out the imagery of a spider in a friendly setting.

He snapped out of it. "Acromantulas are horrible monsters! Why would you even want one?!"

Hagrid looked a bit offended. "I'll have yeh know that Acromantulas are the victims of many misconceptions. Fer one, they ain't vicious."

Back over with Harry and Hermione, a horse-sized spider nearly crashed upon Harry after leaping at about the speed of one at full gallop. Harry narrowly avoided the spider, while Hermione used Petrificus Totalus to stop another spider cold before it could launch into its own leap.

"Yeh're likely to see one or two small ones at most 'less yeh walk right into their nest."

Gloves on and knives out, Harry let fly a barrage of blades, impaling numerous smaller attacking spiders and putting out the eyes of two larger examples. Turning around, he tossed a single knife that became a dozen, and banished them into the head of the giant spider that had lunged on him before.

"Incendio!" Hermione yelled, causing another large spider to burst into flames, before she swung a great kick into a football-sized one that had thrown itself at her, punting it over more of the advancing beasts.

"Prefer ter ambush prey, too. Ain't the sort to chase and fight yeh. So long as yeh stay on the path, yeh'll be fine."

Going back to back, Harry and Hermione looked around at the surrounding mass of arachnids, Hermione with wand ready, and Harry with handfuls of knives.

"Too many," Harry said.

"Something of a problem," Hermione replied.

Ron asked, "And what if you happen to be wrong about everything you just said and Harry and Hermione have run into Acromantulas and are fighting for their very survival?"

"Well, they got Fang along."

At that moment Fang ran up and leaped into Ron's arms, much like he did Neville's. The impact of the large dog landing in his arms did very little to budge the young Weasley, who turned his flat stare away from Fang to subject Hagrid to it.

"That don' mean anythin'," Hagrid quickly said.

Balancing her wand on two fingers, Pansy watched the circle of spiders close closer and closer to Harry and Hermione. She didn't think that the giant spiders would be so effective, but here they were.

"Ahuhuhuhu! When you feed on them, my little pets, make sure you do it slowly," she instructed, "I want them to savor it!"

As Pansy giggled, Hermione glanced back to Harry. "This is the part where we switch to heavier firepower, correct?"

Harry had already swapped out his gloves for the fingerless riders, and was tugging a length of wire from the right hand glove with his teeth. "Absolutely."

Hermione nodded and whipped off her robe, throwing it into the face of a large spider in front of her, while calling out, "Accio Stechkin!"

The moment the robe landed upon the spider's face, there was a rapid burst of gunfire, and a very large hole was blown into the robe and the spider's face underneath it. The sound alone, alien to Pansy, caused her to jump a bit in fright, before she saw the spiders closest to Harry suddenly come apart in messy chunks of viscera spewing spider body parts.

She stared even as chunks of spider rained to the ground at her feet. "Ah…?"

Harry's robe, also carved up nicely, fell away from his body, revealing his proper butler attire. Behind him, Hermione stood dressed in her gray victorian maid uniform and white apron combo. In one hand she had her wand, in the other she held an automatic pistol.

"Remember your training, Hermione, and let's clean up this mess," Harry instructed.

"Of course, sir," Hermione replied.

Harry flicked his hands, and the wires sang as they moved through the air, the thin strands of metal passing cleanly even through the largest spiders as they mindlessly attacked him. Behind him, Hermione aimed and fired with an air of calmness, the gun barely recoiling as it put entire magazines worth of blessed silver into the faces of the larger spiders per burst, or completely blew apart the smaller ones that fell under the weight of metal thrown at them.

Several Acromantulas attempted to drop from the trees, their deadly fangs bared, but without even looking Harry swung a hand up and to his left. The wires followed his hand's motion, slicing through the horse-sized spiders and the trees behind them.

When he brought his hand back, the wire caught the bisected logs and swung them down to crash upon more of the Acromantulas on the ground. A swaying motion of his hands sent the garrote through the fallen trees and spiders alike.

As Pansy watched the display in surprise, the spider that cuddled the side of her face suddenly exploded into a mess, and she looked forward to see Hermione walking towards her with the gun in her hand aimed for her face.

Pansy reached up and wiped away some of the messy remains of the spider, her expression otherwise blithe. "A Muggle gun, in a wizard's duel?"

"They're more helpful than you think!" Hermione declared before firing at Pansy, who wandlessly cast a shield charm that deflected the bullets away from her.

That was not something Pansy should've been able to do, the ever intelligent Hermione immediately realized, but kept up the fire to keep Pansy on the defensive.

After deflecting a second burst, Pansy began to use her wand, holding it forth to keep the shield charm spell up against Hermione's relentless barrage.

As Hermione walked closer to Pansy, still firing, the latter wandlessly cast a disarming charm to remove the former of her weapon, but Hermione narrowly dodged the pulse that came at her and fired again, forcing Pansy to deflect the shots with another shield charm.

When the shield charm came up, Hermione swung her wand, casting a feather-light charm, and then sprang up much higher than a witch ought to be able to.

Swinging her feet up, Hermione drove both into the abdomen of a spider hanging dead off its web after being sliced by Harry, then kicked off it to get over and behind Pansy, stopping herself against a tree.

Pansy's gaze had followed Hermione and she jumped aside from the gunshots, before throwing a blasting charm at Hermione and the tree.

Hermione was fast enough to leap away from the spell and the shrapnel flung by the tree as it exploded into splinters. On the ground, Pansy giggled as she fired another blasting charm, forcing Hermione to move again.

One, two, and then three trees exploded, and Pansy laughed while Hermione leaped from trunk to branch to avoid them. "Run like a monkey, mudblood!"

It was only then that she remembered that she was fighting someone else, and when she happened to look back for that other person, she found Harry's expensive shoe-clad foot coming straight for her face.

The kick connected, and Pansy went flying with a small spray of blood trailing behind her. Landing hard on the ground, Pansy looked up just in time to see Hermione come down and land atop her, both feet driving into her stomach and knocking the wind and no small amount of blood out of her mouth.

"Ook, ook, eek, eek, slag," Hermione sneered.

When Hermione aimed the pistol at her face, she was suddenly caught in a levitation spell cast by Neville, who had recovered the wind he lost. "B-Bollocks!"

She used the recoil of the Stechkin to then push herself out of the way of the killing curse Neville then fired at her. Looked like she had to deal with him before she could handle Pansy. Hopefully, Harry would leave enough pieces for her.

Turning around in the air, she fired her Stechkin, propelling herself directly above Neville, before turning around and firing a stunning spell at him. "Up here, Neville!"

Neville smartly aimed upward and fired the Killing Curse, which the weightless Hermione narrowly dodged by firing her Stechkin again, and the green bolt of death shot skyward through the trees.

Pansy kicked up onto her feet, in time to see Harry coming at her with wires trailing behind her hands.

Pansy waved her wand and then was gone with a pop, Harry's wires cutting through the puff of smoke left behind.

"Apparition, blasting curses, wandless casting…!" Harry spoke to himself as he swung the wires about, cutting through all of the trees around him.

The trees came apart as if exploded, and Pansy was revealed, disapparating and apparating among the wires and wood with a mocking grin on her face. Soon as she reappeared safe out of the range of the wires, she summoned all of Harry's knives to herself, the blades levitating around her before she sent a large batch of them straight for the Boy-Who-Obeyed.

Harry's wires appeared to levitate around him, yet moved with the slightest twitches of his fingers, deflecting the projectiles away with him with the same ease his Grandfather could deflect bullets.

"Come now, ickle Harry!" Pansy taunted as she sent another wave of his own knives back at him. "Surely you can fight a little girl!"

Harry deflected the knives again, and as the metal was scattered away from his face, Pansy apparated inside of their deadly reach, stabbing at him with one of his knives.

Harry evaded the stab and slashed with the wires, and Pansy disapparated again before apparating above and behind him to throw the knife at his back.

The knife, however, was suddenly wrapped up in numerous wires and in the same instant so was Pansy herself, the wires catching her arms and legs and holding her still in the air above the path.

"Oh!" Pansy gasped in surprise much in the way one would be surprised to see an unexpected person in a casual setting. She struggled against the wires, but they held taut, and blood began to seep through her clothes from where they dug into her skin.

"Forgive the pun, as I welcome you to my parlor," Harry said as he turned to face her, while smartly adjusting his tie. "As you enjoy your stay, allow me to clarify a misconception of yours…"

With a flick of his wrist, Pansy was yanked forward and swung through the air, smashing into the side of a tree.

"I have no problem fighting a little girl."

Another move drove her into another tree, a painful-sounding crack echoing from the tree with her yelp.

"I have no problem killing a child."

With the slightest twitch of his pinky, Harry dragged Pansy through branches and bounced her off various trees, and then with a raising of his middle finger plunged her into the ground with a thud.

"Because before you are a girl or even a child, you are a witch, and despite my own power in that regard it is my sworn duty to dispose of trash like you."

He pulled his hand back, and like a broken marionette, Pansy was pulled upward to stand on her knees.

"And I am very thorough with my work."

After a moment, Pansy lifted her head. She was still wearing that vapid smile, as though what she'd been through hadn't remotely affected her. "Those muggles trained you right, Harry Potter."

Harry adjusted his glasses, and began walking towards Pansy. "That will be enough from you. Now hold still."

The wires around Pansy's neck held her head up a little higher, he needed to see her eyes before he decided on what he'd do next. He needed to be absolutely sure before sending Pansy home to her parents in different parcels.

"I'm not going anywhere," Pansy replied gamely before giggling.

Harry grabbed her face, but before he could look closer in the darkness, a burning pain hit him right in his forehead. It was the scar, but it burned hotter and harder than any pain he ever experienced–moreso than the taser training he'd received when he was six.

His wires went slack, as he shot his palm to his forehead, the pain's intensity growing until it became paralyzing.

As the wires slackened and freed her, Pansy thrust her wand forward to rest against his chest. "Crucio."

And then even the piercing pain from his forehead was a drop in the bucket compared to the agony that graced every inch of his body. At the very least he did not scream even when the reflex called for it, but he did crumble to the ground a convulsing heap.

Lowering her wand to keep it pointed at him, Pansy began to pant as she struggled to keep her arm held up. It, like much of her body now, had been severely injured. Bones broken, muscles torn, it was a feat that she was still standing.

"Crucio," she commanded again, and Harry arched his back off the ground as mind-rending pain flared through him again.

Pansy kept the wand pointed at him. "This is it? This is what pins down Harry Potter? The Vampire Hunter? The Madman of St. Mungos?"

She sighed. "This is like taking dragons from a half-giant."

"So it was you!" Hermione suddenly shouted.

She was then shot in the left leg. Ow. When Pansy turned, there was Hermione marching towards her with one gun raised. Pansy looked up, what happened to Neville? Oh, he was petrified. And Hermione was stalking towards her with murder in her eyes–oh dear. In that instant, Hermione fired several more times, shooting her wand from her hand, hitting both her arms, and putting a bullet into her right side.

"Snitches get stitches, bitch!" she shouted on reaching Pansy, and raising a boot-clad right foot to kicked her in the chest. With a loud thump, Pansy's body collided with the tree and went limp against it.

The pain from the Cruciatus Curse vanished instantly, though the pain in his forehead lingered. Fortunately, two hits of the worst pain curse in creation made it little more than an afterthought now.

"Wow… that… that's going to be part of exposure training from now on…" he managed as he got back up.

"Are you all right?" Hermione said as she kept her weapon trained on Pansy.

"No worries, it's nothing a cup of tea won't cure," Harry replied as he got up and dusted himself off. "On that note…"

He looked over to Pansy. "She's under Imperius, Neville too."

Hermione lowered her implements of monster hunting. "That does explain some things."

"Quite," Harry said grimly.

"Oh Lord…" Hermione began in horror at the idea she may have been hurting an innocent person, before she stopped. "Wait, was she Imperiused before or after she defaced my book?"

"Definitely after," Harry said.

Hermione's horror reversed. "Well! In that case I regret nothing."

"How wretched," Pansy said as she lay broken and battered against her tree. "To take such a tone against a girl taken advantage of."

Harry and Hermione turned to find that Pansy had a flask to her lips. "Unforgivable… she knows not what she does."

Harry prepared his wires, as he watched the flask near her lips. The pain from his scar, however, became an unfortunate distraction at that point, however… offering Pansy just the time she needed to knock back a gulp of whatever it was that the flask contained.

Upon downing the liquid, a flash of revulsion coursed through her, followed by a simply awful feeling that crawled to every corner of her body as the liquid drained down her throat. She wrenched the flask from her lips and coughed, spraying flecks of silvery liquid all over the ground in front of her, and causing Hermione to recoil in shock.

"That's…!" Hermione looked from the silvery liquid on the ground to Pansy… who was now perfectly healthy again, any sign of injury absent save for where the bullets went into her clothes. "Oh bollocks."

"Did she just drink Unicorn's blood?" Harry asked.

"She did," Hermione lamented back.

"Well, that's not good," Harry decided.

"I'll have you know that it was actually delicious," Pansy lied.

Harry saw through it. "I can't imagine magic horse blood being anything short of vile."

Pansy chose to come clean. "Well, all right I'll concede. It's actually the most horrific thing I've ever consumed and I want to die."

Hermione aimed the Stechkin at the still blithe Pansy's forehead. "Request approved."

A flash from the forest to their right then struck Hermione's gun hand, launching the Stechkin from her grip and to the ground. As she attempted to bring her wand up, more disarming charms hit and removed it from her grip.

Harry fared little better, divested of his own wand in deluge of disarming charms, he attempted to summon up his garrotes, only for another charm to take control of the wires, sending them winding around both him and Hermione before pulling the two of them tightly together back to back.

A tall, cloaked apparition stepped from behind the tree, and turned its hooded head towards the two Hellsing Agents/Hogwarts Students.

"We finally meet," the robed figure said.

Harry, surprisingly, was having none of it. "Come off it, Quirrell, I'm not a bell end. I know it's you."

"Quirrell?" The figure asked. "I'm afraid you have me mistaken for someone else."

The man bowed politely. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Littlefinger."

"You mean like the man in the book?" Hermione asked.

"Quite, a charming piece of muggle literature, that," Littlefinger returned.

Harry turned and stared at Hermione, startled at her… precocious taste in books.

"Now then, impressive as you pair are… it's time for the kid gloves to come off, pun intended," Littlefinger went on. "Before we kill you, you are going to come forth with some very helpful information for us."

Harry narrowed his eyes. What could they want? Whatever Fluffy was protecting? The location of Hellsing Manor? The secret behind the Queen's ardent refusal to die?

Hermione then asked. "What would that be?"

"You are going to tell me the true identity of The Crimson Fucker, and what it will take to bring him here."

It became so silent that one could hear a werewolf laughing in Brazil.

When the long beat passed, Hermione gave Littlefinger a strange look. "Are… are you a crazy person?"

Harry was similarly stunned. "You… you want to use us… to lure him here?"

Littlefinger chuckled. "Yes, the man who slaughtered my Dark Lord… the one under the employ of your Hellsing organization… I want him."

"Look, mate, if you're in that much of a hurry to die, please, untie us and we'll kill you here on the spot. No sense in waiting thirty minutes to be splattered all over the forest," Harry insisted.

Littlefinger found that perturbing. "No, I-"

"We'll make it as gruesome and humiliating as you like," Hermione added.

"What are you on abo-" Littlefinger failed to get a word in edgewise.

"Or, we can get you some proper help. There's a muggle suicide help hotline that works wonders-"

"Enough!" Littlefinger snapped. "If you're not going to tell me, then we will have to torture it from you."

He rolled up his left sleeve and revealed a rather wicked tattoo of a skull with a basilisk emerging from its mouth. He then pressed his wand to the mark, and in an instant there was a set of nine pops behind him–eight men and one woman wearing black suits, robes, gold masks, and tall pointy hats.

Hermione looked to Harry in shock. "Death Eaters!"

"Quite, more people enthusiastic about dying horribly," Harry said before nodding to the white-haired Death Eater third from Littlefinger's right. "Good evening, Mr. Malfoy."

That Death Eater in question went to pull his fancy wand from his cane and fling a hex at Harry, when the Death Eater at his left held out an arm, and gestured for him to chill.

Hermione was suddenly rather quiet, staring with a tranquil fury at the white-haired Death Eater as if he had just been party to the death of her parents–oh wait.

Littlefinger chuckled. "Now then, how would you like to spend the next several hours being tortured until you tell us everything we want to hear about The Crimson Fucker?"

Hermione snapped out of her rage trance, and then looked back to Harry. "They're all crazy people."

Harry nodded. "Look, we'll tell you everything you need to hear. We'll even tell you where you can find him right now."

"He gave us precise instructions for in case anyone asked," Hermione said.

Littlefinger pointed a wand at Harry. "Where is he right now then, Potter?"

"At this moment?" Harry hummed. What were Alucard's instructions again? Oh yes.

"Balls deep in yer Mum," he and Hermione said together.

"They appear to have chosen torture," Littlefinger stated as he pointed his wand at Hermione. "A pity…"

"I was hoping to get my answers and dispose of you wretched brats right away," Hermione said.

"I was hoping to get my answers and dispose of you wretched brats right away," Littlefinger repeated, before he caught what she said. "Wait, what?"

Harry nodded. "Ah, she did the thing."

"What thing?!" Littlefinger repeated.

"That thing where she's completely outmaneuvered you lot without you realizing it," Harry explained. "It means that she's gotten you all right where she wants you."

The other Death Eaters shared confused looks.

"You're joking, you're tightly bound. You can't reach your weapons, you're utterly helpless."

"As I understand it, at some point she figures out people so completely that she even knows exactly what they're going to say before they say it," Harry said.

"That's correct," Hermione said before adding. "Preposterous, no one is that prescient."

"Preposterous, no one is that prescient!" Littlefinger argued, before his mouth fell open in disbelief.

"It's more an indictment against you, than praise for her," Harry said, "Because it means you've missed something vital that she's done to foil your plans."

"What could I have missed?!" Littlefinger demanded.

Harry smiled. "If I had to guess, it'd be the Half Giant she summoned to smash the lot of you with a log."

At that moment, a projectile log about as big as the massive tree that the two were bound around came crashing through the trees, scattering the Death Eaters and Littlefinger with a mighty crash. Through the chaos caused by the thrown log, one of the Death Eaters immediately fired a curse at the two children, but missed–succeeding only in cutting clean through the wires holding the two of them up and letting them free.

Another Death Eater, the lone female of the group, turned to him aghast. "Where are you aiming, wanker?!"

The clumsy Death Eater looked at his wand then at her. "I have no idea what happened, I think my wand may be defective. Give me a moment."

He then cast a hex on the woman Death Eater, knocking her back into a tree. "No, seems to be in working order."

Lucius pointed his wand at him. "What did you do that for?!"

"Wand test," the clumsy oaf said before be swung his wand and used a shield charm to deflect a spell fired at him by the Malfoy Patriarch. "I don't need to test it anymore, you can stop."

"Are you stupid or insane? We're supposed to be attacking our enemies!" Lucius said as he struck with another hex.

The curse turned into a shower of lights, cracking the golden mask he wore and knocking off his tall cone hat, revealing ink-black hair. The gold mask split and fell off, revealing a second black mask covering half of the man's face–with long tear-like streaks that ran down his cheeks.

"That's exactly right," The Half-Blood Prince said before he struck Lucius tumbling with a curse of his own.

Harry, who'd returned to his normal gloves, quickly let fly two more knives, striking down a third Death Eater who attempted to hit The Half-Blood Prince with a curse of their own. "I beg your pardon, helpful Dark Wizard?"

"Now Harry, there's no time for pleasantries," The Half-Blood Prince said, "Not when there's Death Eaters to kill."

Harry immediately dropped the attempted inquiry. "Quite."

Hermione had forgone it entirely, recovering her wand and Stechkin and immediately hitting a fourth Death Eater who turned their wand on her with a blasting charm. As he recoiled, she riddled him with the Stechkin as she walked towards where Lucius lay with purpose in her stride and fire in her eyes.

As the Half-Blood Prince turned away from the girl, he noticed and then narrowly avoided a flash of light hurled at him by Littlefinger, who leveled his wand at him. "Before I rend you to sundered flesh, enlighten me–who are you?"

"Who am I?" The Half-Blood Prince asked in turn. He then whipped his wand forward, and fired a hex that struck Littlefinger and sent him flipping end over end to crash bodily into a tree.

"Fuck you, that's who," The Half-Blood Prince replied.

"Wicked," Harry declared.

"Yes, but unfortunately it won't be that simple-!" The Half-Blood Prince was interrupted by being right; the roots of the tree that Littlefinger had impacted came to life, rising out of the ground to spear through the masked-wizard's chest.

The Half-Blood Prince disapparated clear of the first root, and reappeared atop the other as it sailed past his position. Slashing with his wand, he cut the roots at their base and ran along them towards Littlefinger, who had pushed himself off the tree. "Go help Hagrid!"

Harry almost wanted to argue against what was shaping up to be an epic showdown, but decided against it when he saw what Hagrid was up to. The half-giant had picked up his log and was using it to belt a fifth Death Eater over the treetops. He was taking quite a few hexes and curses from two other Death Eaters in the process, and that would not do.

Harry drew four more knives in each hand, and after taking careful aim jumped and threw them. Curving through the air, they struck home on Death Eater number six

"Thanks, Harry!" Hagrid called out before he swung the log around and turned the wounded Death Eater into a red paste that got everywhere, including on the seventh Death Eater and Harry. "Aw, sorry lad."

"Not a problem," Harry insisted, before he dodged a green bolt fired at him by the seventh Death Eater. "Reengaging!"

Wand held tightly like a knife, The Half-Blood Prince reached Littlefinger and slashed at the Dark Wizard, succeeding in cutting through the tree as Littlefinger disapparated clear of the strike.

The Half-Blood Prince, letting out an annoyed sound as he avoided the bolt, twirled his wand and cast another powerful hex at Littlefinger, who thrust his hand out this time and batted it away before taking aim with his own wand and unleashing a green stream of pure death at him.

The Half-Blood Prince apparated to avoid it. As he appeared, he taunted him. "I must say I am impressed! Where on Earth were they hiding a wizard like you? You're almost competent!"

"Would you believe that I've been living like a rat for over a decade?!" Littlefinger informed The Half-Blood Prince as he conjured up four large blades and launched them at the masked man. Each one homed in on their target, only to be sliced to ribbons by The Half-Blood Prince's cutting spell.

The blades then simply folded themselves into smaller, faster blades that homed in on The Half-Blood Prince from different directions. "My question is how can such a brilliant wizard go against us?!"

With a flick of his wand, The Half-Blood Prince deflected the storm of blades, sending them into various trees, the ground, and the buttocks of the Death Eater in the middle of flinging curses at Harry.

"Ow, my arse!" The Death Eater shouted before Harry put knives through his neck, heart, and other major points of his circulatory system. "Ow, my life!"

"It's hard to follow a man who can't keep his word. I mean, seriously, you ask him to not kill one person. Just one, and he says he won't, but then he just up and does it," The Half-Blood Prince replied.

The Half-Blood Prince sighed, and then began walking towards Littlefinger. "I mean, can you willingly tie yourself to anyone who would betray you like that, Littlefinger?"

Littlefinger hummed at that. "That's not fair, he may have had a good reason to. Like he thought that you're a cunt and didn't care about your feelings in the least?"

The Half-Blood Prince immediately lashed out with his wand, only for Pansy to dive in and deflect it with a shield charm. As the Half-Blood Prince prepared to fire another curse, he hesitated as Littlefinger cowered behind her like cover.

"Ha, you're not as ruthless as you fancy yourself, are you?!" Littlefinger mocked before Pansy completed the Apparition charm and both vanished.

Lowering the wand, The Half-Blood Prince sneered. "Oh, that was very good of you, old sport… I hope we see one another again soon."

Perhaps next time there would be more students present for the Class of '88 reunion.

"Oi, Prince," Hagrid called out. "What 'appened?"

"He escaped, took the young Miss Parkinson with him," The Half-Blood Prince returned before turning to face him and Harry.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Well, smashing this little ring of followers is still a plus. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will be quite pleased to have a half dozen dead dark wizards to present to the Aurors."

Hagrid had a look around. "They ain't all dead, are they?"

"I hope not, we need at least one for questioning," Harry said before he heard the loud chops of a Stechkin APS on full auto, and the scream of a Death Eater in agony. "Oh bollocks."

"Bollocks indeed," Hermione agreed as she stood over a grievously wounded Lucius Malfoy, who was curled up into a ball and screaming through his clenched teeth.

"Hermione, what did you do?" Harry asked as he, Hagrid, and the Half-Blood Prince approached.

Hermione looked over at him. "Well originally, I was going to tell him that he killed my parents and that he should prepare to die, and then I would shoot him. However, as I struggled to find words to say that weren't already spoken by Inigo Montoya, I just became angrier, and angrier. Finally, with nothing really to say-"

"You emptied an entire magazine into his cock and balls," The Half-Blood Prince observed.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, that is exactly what I did."

The Half-Blood Prince struggled with this, before he sighed. "Well, if I ever needed the motivation to take up Albus' offer, I have just received it."

"What do we do wit' 'im, then?" Hagrid said of the whimpering Lucius.

"I've had my fill," Hermione admitted, with great satisfaction.

"Oh I'm sure Professor Dumbledore and Auror Moody would love to hear more about Lucius' version of these events," The Half-Blood Prince suggested.

"Agreed," Harry said. "Now let's scoop up Neville and go get him fixed up."

With her bloodlust quenched (for the moment) and the subject of classmates broached, Hermione looked around as she realized something amiss. "Hey, where's Ron?"

Hagrid had the answer to that. "Ah left 'im with Fang, the lad should be safe. That I know I'm right abou'."

At that moment, a terrified Fang came charging by, yelping loudly.

"Oh fer fuck's sake, Fang!" Hagrid shouted after him.


He was furious. After so much hard work and preparation, the small number that were to be His new elite, His new Knights of Walpurgis had been dashed and annihilated by The-Boy-Who-Served, the Mudblood, and the murderous interloper who'd been following Him since that fateful Halloween. He had already been beset by enough setbacks, and this was the second worst of this year.

But as He stalked through the Forbidden Forest in a snarling huff, silvery blood dripping from His lips, He suddenly realized that tonight didn't have to be a total loss. No, not when the dear friend of The-Boy-Who-Bowed was right there, an easy target for His wrath. Crouching in the undergrowth, the creature that long lost its right to be considered human got into position, and began to stalk towards His prey.

At the edge of a clearing close to the lake, Ron waited quietly–if anxiously–for the return of Hagrid and the others. The flash of green light that had apparently been their signal had come after cracks of gunfire and the sound of trees toppling, and it had sent Hagrid off on a particularly violent warpath to assist them.

Since then, Ron waited with Fang, who didn't want to be in the forest anymore than he did. Not when there were giant spiders about. Unicorn blood drinking monsters he could handle. Maybe werewolves and dragons, too. Spiders? No, he could not handle it, he would not.

"Fang, you keep close to me, okay?" Ron asked as the dark underbrush moved with the wind, creating an eerie rustling sound all around him.

He looked around, scanning the darkness for any sign of trouble. "I hope there aren't any spiders…"

Even as he asked that, a dark shape rose from the brush behind him, stretching and elongating until it towered over the boy and his giant friend's dog.

Fang turned his head to lick Ron's hand reassuringly, when he saw out the corner of his eye the dark shape extending a cloak-shrouded hand towards the back of Ron's neck. Seeing this terrifying, wraith-like specter, Fang did the only thing the Boarhound could do in this situation… he took off with such speed that Ron was nearly pulled off his feet–and lost the lead.

"Ah! Fang!" Ron shouted after the dog in vain, before he felt a chill down his spine and slowly turned around to find a cloaked monstrosity of a figure looming over him with an outstretched hand.

A deathly rattle left the creature's throat, as He stepped towards the frozen with terror Ron. The boy's expression of fear was exquisite, it would be the perfect deathmask for him to wear when his little friends came upon his lifeless corpse.

"Boy, death approaches…" He wheezed at Ron, causing flecks of silvery blood to fall from His lips and down the front of the cloak that encased the mangled thing He called a body.

Upon seeing the droplets of silver, Ron realized what he was looking at. This creature, this monster, was the unicorn killer that they'd been looking for! His eyes growing wider, Ron stared at the creature as his fear drained from his body… or rather was evaporated-

By his unspeakable anger.

"Now," He hissed as he reached for Ron's neck, "Die-"

He was not quite aware of what happened, but suddenly the boy went from terrified, to surprised, and then to completely enraged. He was not quite aware of anything else immediately after, as Ron let out a yell and slammed his fist directly into where he was sure His face ought to have been.

For the briefest of instants, everything was perfectly still, and then with an echoing boom–like a cannon going off–the cloaked monstrosity was launched like a cannonball. There was more crashing, as He went through first some tree branches, then some trees, an unusually sturdy rock, part of a hill, and finally reached the open air of the lake… which He fell into with an inglorious splash.

Panting heavily, a bit of steam rising off his knuckles, Ron stood there in the punching position with a look of savage anger on his face… before just as quickly he stood upright and regained his composure. "It serves you right! My little sister adores unicorns, and I'll never forgive anyone who messes with them!"

When he turned around, he found a dumbstruck Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid standing there, staring at him. Harry was carrying an unpetrified Neville over his shoulder, while Hagrid bore a struggling and quietly begging for death Lucius and the unconscious lady Death Eater who'd been first to be put down.

Staring back at them, Ron looked around, before he shrugged his shoulders. "Um… I think I got the unicorn killer, guys."

Hermione just tilted her head to one side, as she looked from Ron to the path of destruction his punched projectile paved through the forest.

"There's that Prewett Madness I was tellin' yeh about," Hagrid said with a bit of pride. "Th' boy takes right after 'is Mum!"

Hermione tilted her head back the other way, that earlier fascination with Ron's physical strength now back in full force.

Harry needed a moment more, before he said the first words that came to his mind.

"You're hired."

Ron was a tad confused by that. "I'm what?"


= = =


Oh look, we're caught up.
 
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