Just some quick Author's Notes before I start the story. This type of crossover has been in my head for some time, ever since I watched Hellsing at my friends home. I had always liked the idea of a religious Harry, but I never had a way to bring him back into the magical world. Hellsing has assisted me greatly in this, as it has given me the ties necessary for this story to work.

I have changed the timeline of HP for what I need, and for the fact that Rowling misinterpreted the PlayStation release. The system didn't have enough games at it's launch (in my opinion that is) for Dudley Dursley to have an interest in getting one. Rowling makes reference to this in the fourth book. Dudley probably received his copy of PlayStation in the summer of '95 in the book series. I'm taking that a step further, and making it 1996 that Dudley got his PlayStation. This will greatly suit my needs for this story, as it (somewhat) coincides with the Hellsing story line.

Harry's timeline is as follows.

July 31 1982-Harry Potter is born.

Halloween of 1983- Lily and James Potter die, Voldemort is routed, and Harry is sent to live with his Aunt and Uncle.

1993 to 1994- Harry Potters first year.

1994 to 1995- Harry Potter's second year.

1995 to 1996- Harry Potter's third year.

1996 to 1997- Harry Potter's fourth year.

1997 to 1998- Harry Potter's fifth year.

That's what I would use IF Harry was going to Hogwarts.

Ciao.

"...blah..." denotes speaking

'...blah...' denotes emphasis

blah denotes thoughts

-Iscariot- denotes POV change

Iscariot Chapter One

The Situation.

December 25, 1988

Enrico Maxwell knew that someone up in Heaven hated him. His comfortable life as a Catholic priest had been rudely interrupted with his 'promotion' to the head of the Vatican's hit squad less than a year ago.

Section XIII. The Secret Service Division. Better known as Iscariot, named after the Apostle Judas who sold Jesus Christ to the Roman heathens.

Maxwell sighed, knowing he could have done nothing about it. He had to admit though, that he loved his new position within the Vatican. The power that he had was second to the Pope's, in his opinion anyway.

He was sipping his wine and reading his favorite book The Bible, when one of his secretary came running into his office.

"Father Maxwell! We have a situation sir!"

Maxwell looked up from his book, he had been wondering when something would happen. Something always did happen during the Christmas season.

"What is the situation then?" Maxwell hoped that it was something minor, he wanted to send out Section XIII's newest recruit, Yumiko Takagi, on a simple mission to test her skills.

"A vampire attack in Ireland sir!"

"WHAT!!!" Maxwell yelled, looking horrified. He despised vampires with a passion that was only outmatched by his best operative, Alexander Anderson.

"An orphanage near the city of Dublin was attacked by two vampires during the night. It is unknown how many of the children have been killed, or if any are still alive."

Maxwell was cursing in his head, "We need to send in Anderson immediately!"

"Sir, shouldn't it be best if we send in another operative just in case?"

Maxwell mulled over that option. None of his other operatives showed enough skill to fight vampires, except...

"Send in Heinkel Wolfe as well."

"But Sir! She has only been an agent for a year!"

"I KNOW THAT!!! BUT SHE IS THE ONLY OPERATIVE WHO HAS EXPERIENCE FIGHTING VAMPIRES!!!"

It was true to. Heinkel Wolfe had already gone on six missions before, and two had been against vampires. She was the only other operative that had any experience fighting vampires, minus Anderson of course.

"I want them both on a Vatican jet to Dublin Airport in five minutes, understood?"

"Yes sir."

As the secretary ran off to do his job, Maxwell looked at his watch. It was currently 06:57. Anderson and Wolfe would be leaving by 07:02, and would land, if all went well, no later than 07:25.

Maxwell just hoped that it wasn't to late to save the children of the orphanage.

"May God grant mercy on those who live in that building."

-Iscariot-

At the young age of six, Harry James Potter had already lived through much.

Harry had lived in St. John's Orphanage for most of his life, and had loved almost every minute of it.

Almost.

He remembered the time when he was four, and had been beaten up by some of the older boys. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence, considering that St. John's was located in the poor section of Dublin. Harry had been in such a state, he had to be taken to the hospital. Fortunately, Harry had survived. The priest who ran St. John's had said it had been an act of God that had kept Harry alive. Harry's Catholic ideals had been reinforced by that incident, if nothing else. Harry had first learned of Catholicism when living in his Uncle's house back in England. His Uncle was a fierce Protestant, and beat Harry into becoming 'normal'. Since Harry followed the philosophy of 'whatever his Uncle did must be wrong', Harry had become a Catholic. His Uncle, furious that his beatings hadn't conformed the boy, had shipped Harry off to St. John's. Harry had received a wonderful Christmas present that year, a golden cross that reached his belt. Harry always wore it, even sleeping. Now, the cross reached his abdomen, and had a point at the end of it. Harry had learned that having a weapon, even if it was a cross, was absolutely necessary to live in the poor section of Dublin. Harry's accent was a mix of English, and Irish. An interesting mix to say the least.

But now. Now something wrong had happened. Two men had come into the dinning hall and started to kill. They killed Father Ardagh first, then they turned to the children who were to stunned to move. As the two men continued to kill, the children tried to run for their lives. It was hard, considering that both men could just smack a child, and the child would be sliced in half. Harry had been the only one to escape that scene alive.

That was over an hour ago.

He had ran around the orphanage building, ducking and weaving his way through the rooms and halls, until he came to his safe spot. This was where Harry prayed whenever he felt alone or hurt. Harry just hopped that the two men wouldn't find him.

Harry started rattling off phrases from the New Testament, in hopes of driving, what he saw as Satan spawn, away with the holy words.

-Iscariot-

Badrick was annoyed that this little brat had the nerve to run from his death, and to protect himself with the Bible.

"Do ya think," Badrick asked his brother Patrick, "That the brat knows that we're vampires?"

"No." Replied Patrick, "The child doesn't know that. I believe that he sees us as Hell spawn, and is using Bible verses as a way to drive us off."

Badrick snorted. He would never understand the unknown ingenuity of humans, even though he had once been a human himself.

Badrick and Patrick Fitzgerald had lived for nearly 125 years. They had both been bitten by the same vampires, in hopes that the two brothers would become her sex toy.

She had been proved wrong when Badrick and Patrick had jammed a wooden stake through her heart.

Ashes to Ashes. Dust to Dust.

Badrick was trying to think of a way for Patrick and himself to get around the barrier, when he sensed humans approaching.

"It looks like we have company brother."

"I concur, which do you want to kill."

"The male, he has a strong aura around him. I want to be the one to take it from him."

"Aye."

-Iscariot-

Heinkel Wolfe looked at scene before her.

It was, truly, a scene from Hell.

Corpses of children were everywhere. Most weren't even in one piece. Heinkel felt the need to vomit, but held it in.

"Das ist nicht gut." She muttered, switching back to her native German.

"It nevah is lassie." Growled out her partner for this mission, Alexander Anderson, "But, ah say dat we ghet goin. The freaks dat did this shall pay fo' it."

"Ja, Anderson," She replied, "Dieser sehr kaufen."

Heinkel Wolfe had never expected to be recruited for the Iscariot Agency when she became a nun. She had joined hoping to bring herself closer to God. And to relieve the economic strain she was putting on her family. The Wolfe family had lived in East Berlin, and they had had a problem with feeding their three children. Heinkel knew that she had to leave her family, to get a job and help them as much as possible. Unfortunately, her family had tried to cross the Berlin Wall a month after she left. They had all died by Communist bullets.

When news of this reached Heinkel, she had locked herself in her room for a week. She refused to eat or drink anything, content with grieving for her lost family. It had been her resolve to do something to fight the anti-Christ Communists that brought her out of her shell. Heinkel knew how to use a gun, her father hunted when he could get the chance and had taught her everything he knew about pistols and rifles. Heinkel hadn't touched a weapon for nearly half a year, but everything came back.

When word of her actions came to light, Heinkel had been rushed to the Vatican to meet with someone. She hadn't known she was applying for a position at Section XIII until she had been told by the head of Iscariot, that she had been hired.

Even with going on missions for Section XIII, Heinkel still practiced with her weapons. She soon became the second best operative that Iscariot had, at the ripe old age of 19.

Walking towards the orphanage, Heinkel tried not to let her discomfort show. She shivered nonetheless, when they passed the corpse of the priest in charge of the orphanage. He had been decapitated, numerous slashes along his chest and gut, and lets not forget the total absence of his arms and legs.

Heinkel knew that she would be fighting vampires this day. She knew that the chances of her leaving unscathed were slime to none. The only comfort she had was the fact that her partner was Section XIII's best, Father Alexander Anderson.

"Vho ist our targets Anderson?"

-Iscariot-

Anderson glanced at his momentary partner, Heinkel Wolfe, "De Fitzgerald Broder's are o' targets fo' d'day."

Anderson mulled over what he had been told back in Rome. The Fitzgerald brothers had attacked an orphanage on Christmas morning. They had laid waste to the majority of the occupants, it was believed that one or two still lived. Anderson hoped so, he had a weak spot for children. Why he was the head priest in an orphanage himself.

His blood boiled as he walked towards the open front door. Seeing the lifeless bodies of these innocent youngsters pained him, and spurred him to extract vengeance on their murderer's.

As the two walked into the building, Anderson felt the presence of the brothers. Looking around, Anderson hoped that he wasn't to late to save at least one child.

He didn't have to wait long for the chance to kill the Fitzgerald brothers, as they both attacked him when he passed the staircase.

Anderson smirked, knowing that he would win this fight. Grasping the blades hidden beneath his coat, Anderson slashed out at the smaller of the two. He wasn't able to get a hit in, but Anderson knew that he wouldn't miss next time.

"Heinkel!"

-Iscariot-

Harry had heard the Satan spawn leave, running up the stairs, and breathed a sigh of relief. Harry knew that someone had come to help him, and Harry knew that the Satan spawn would die.

As he left his safe spot, Harry heard the sound of fighting on the floor above him. Grasping his makeshift weapon, Harry carefully moved towards the stairs.

-Iscariot-

Heinkel fired at the vampire that was focused on her. She had been surprised by the quickness of the attack, she hadn't realized how fast these two vampires were. As Heinkel brought her two pistols to bear, she felt a stinging pain on her side. Looking down she saw an open wound that was gushing blood.

The vampire grinned, "Your guns are nothing when I get in close." He held up a big knife, "Think yourself food human!"

Heinkel grimaced, trying to avert her attention to her opponent rather than her wound. "Ve shall see you anti-Christ freak!"

Heinkel aimed and fired.

-Iscariot-

Anderson grinned manically, this fight was turning out to be very entertaining. Anderson was glad that he had just sharpened his bayonets.

"Ye cannot win freak," Anderson said, "Al' ye can d' now, is te die slow!"

The vampire snarled, "You underestimate us then! I will kill you today Anderson!"

Anderson just grinned again. Striking with all his speed, Anderson removed the head from the vampire.

-Iscariot-

Heinkel was in trouble. Her opponent was to fast for her. She had tried to get a good shot off, but the vampire had dodged them all. She was not only running out of bullets, but out of uncut flesh.

They had stopped by the stairs down to the basement, Heinkel used this time to catch her breath and to reload her pistols.

"You see human! You see that I can not be defeated by your measly weapons. A gun could never hurt a vampire!" Laughing like a manic, the vampire held his knife out in front of him, "First I'll take your arms, then your legs, then your ears, eyes, and nose! Just wait, your death will not be pleasant!"

Laughing even more, the vampire went into an attack position. Heinkel knew that it was hopeless, but she readied her pistols to start their rain of fire as soon as possible.

Only the attack never came.

The vampire had started screaming, as though struck by something, but Heinkel knew that he was uninjured by her weapons.

"YOU LITTLE BRAT!!" The vampire roared, "YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!!!"

Heinkel looked around the vampire, who was clutching his knee as though in pain, and saw a little boy. The boy was no older than eight, but he had a determined look to his face. He was also holding a cross that had, oddly enough, blood all over it.

Never one to question divine intervention, Heinkel unloaded both of her pistols into the vampires body. He went down screeching with numerous holes all over his body. Blood and gore sprouted from the numerous wounds, coating both the boy and Heinkel in his blood.

Heinkel walked over to the boy. When she reached him, she heard him mumbling phrases from the New Testament under his breath. Smiling gently, Heinkel took his hand.

"Hallo mein freund," Heinkel said, "Meine name ist Heinkel. Vat ist your name?"

The boy looked into her eyes, looking as though he would pass out soon, "Harry."

As Harry fainted, Heinkel caught him. Lifting the lithe boy into her arms, Heinkel carried him back to the entrance.

-Iscariot-

Anderson saw the boy in Heinkel's arms, knowing that it was probably the only survivor, he didn't ask a thing. He only stated, "We'll hav te get 'im in Ferdinant Lukes when we ge' back te Rome."

-Iscariot-

December 31, 1988

Maxwell sighed, content for the first time in days.

The vampire attack on Christmas had been taken care of. He made a mental note to congratulate Heinkel for an excellent job. Unfortunately, Anderson and Heinkel had arrived to late to save anyone, except for the boy.

Maxwell didn't know what was wrong with the child, he seemed healthy, but there was something off about him. Something, un-natural.

'It doesn't matter,' Thought Maxwell, 'The boy is alive and well.'

Anderson had gotten the boy, Maxwell believed his name was Harry, put into Ferdinant Lukes Orphanage. According to Anderson, Harry was coping well. He had apparently made friends with Dominic and Isabella, who went to Ferdinant Lukes sister orphanage Ferdinant Marys. Apparently those three were as thick as thieves, and Anderson was spending a lot of time berating them for their antics.

Maxwell smiled, he had met Harry later on Christmas day, and had been impressed by the boys faith.

'He'll make a good Iscariot agent.'

As Maxwell sipped his Italian wine and watched the fire burn down to nothing, he could say that, for once, it was a very happy New Years.

-Iscariot-

Albus Dumbeldore was known for many things. Defeating the Dark Wizard Grindwald, being the best Headmaster of Hogwarts in centuries, and the being the head of the Order of the Phoenix, just to name a few.

He was not well known, however, for his tendency to get roaring drunk when things went bad.

And things had only gone from bad to worse.

Five years ago, he had left Harry Potter, the savior of the Wizarding world, on the doorstep of his Aunt's and Uncle's house. He had been hoping that Harry would be well accepted in that home, believing that his family would love him just like their own son.

He had been wrong.

Four years after leaving Harry potter on the doorstep of #4 Privet Drive, he had gone missing.

In what turned out to be the most massive manhunt in the history of wizard kind, Albus Dumbeldore was completely and utterly useless.

He had personally gone to #4 when the Harry hadn't been seen in weeks. The Mr. Dursley had been adamant that no one by the name of Harry Potter had ever lived in his house. Albus had been forced to restrain the man, and forcibly give him Verteserum to get the truth.

Harry Potter had been abandoned.

According to his Uncle, Harry had become a 'Catholic piece of filth.', because of this, Dursley had been forced to get rid off the vile cretin. Dursley had just dropped Harry off on a ship that was heading out of England. Where the ship was headed, Dursley didn't know as he had anticipated being interrogated and didn't want to tell anyone where the child had gone to.

For two years, the Wizarding world had searched for their savior.

For two years they had found nothing.

Then, On Christmas, a massive magical spike was detected in Ireland. With permission from the Irish Ministry, English Aurrors had gone to the location of the spike.

The Magical spike was Harry Potters magic.

Harry Potter wasn't their when the Aurrors arrived, but something else was.

Albus didn't know exactly what the Aurrors had discovered, but as soon as they came back to England, they had all applied for medical leave. They had stated the reason as 'psychological trauma'.

So no one knew what they had found.

And Harry potter was still missing.

Albus kept drinking, thinking that this was most defiantly his worst New Years ever.

-Iscariot-

Well? What do you think? Review please!