~*Chapter 9~*

"Alucard, come here, now!"

Despite all attempts to remain impassive, Harry was unable to hide his look of shock and slight fear at witnessing the vampire walk out of a solid wall. A strange sensation passed over him, nagging the back of his mind with familiarity, but he pushed it aside in light of having a wide sharp-toothed grin directed at him. Blinking slowly and composing himself, he frowned deeply at Alucard.

Stomach roiling with nerves, despite his dire wish to run in the opposite direction, he remained firm. Having read at least some of the journal the vampire had given him the previous night, and observing the interaction between Integra and said vampire, Harry was certain he was in no danger. At least, no danger that Integra would not first have to instigate. The thought sent an even stronger jolt of nerves through him, like ice water being poured down his back.

Had he committed some violation by inquiring after the No Life King? Would Integra order Alucard to attack? Had the goblin contract covered enslaved vampires in the clause? Several questions and worries flooded through him in the span of a millisecond. Integra and Alucard seemed to be watching him carefully; the Hellsing with a blank expression, and the vampire... amusement. The realization of the vampire's enjoyment of his fear sent an unexpected coil of anger shooting in his chest.

Humans were far scarier and more cruel than any vampire. The humans in his life previous had walked over him like a doormat, ignored him, beat him down even long after he had ceased caring for the pain. He had fought his way tooth and nail to escape that, even attempting to poison those who would keep him tethered away like a slave and forgotten play thing. Humans were far scarier than vampires, and this one would certainly not inspire such things in Harry.

The conscious decision reflected in his minute change of stance. While many would not note the change, Hellsing and servant did. The boy's spine straightened, fists slowly unclenching at his sides. While still tense, the look of fear clearly diminished from his gaze as he speared Alucard with a blank, unamused, stare. This seemed to surprise Alucard, to Integra's pleasure, as the vampire's grin faded to a curious pout.

Perhaps her scheme was not unfounded after all. Watching the silent play between her servant and new heir, Integra leaned back in her seat, kicking her feet up onto the desk in a relaxed posture. While such an action would never be repeated in front of her soldiers or anyone of official capacity, this situation was simply too interesting to observe while uncomfortable herself. Meeting expectation, Alucard was the first to break the silence.

"Find anything interesting to read, little one?"

The boy twitched, and Integra's suspicions were confirmed. So they had met before. She was curious as to how the vampire had managed without sending the boy into a nervous panic. Alucard's gaze flitted in her direction minutely, and a slight smirk showed off one of his fangs. No doubt she could question him later, but for now she continued to watch in silence.

The little mouse still smelled of nerves, pheromones quite in upheaval as he battled with himself over how to react or if he should at all. Alucard marveled privately at that scent. Such a small and miniscule, seemingly insignificant, child contained such power. Even unconscious as it was, he could prove quite destructive if he were to lose his temper.

He would need to cajole the boy a bit to experience for himself if all worked out. He suspected and approved of his master's plan. A child such as this would never be aided by being coddled, though a delicate touch was indeed in order. While not ideal, it would certainly prove to be an amusing, and perhaps even rewarding, challenge.

Recalling his various insults and actions taken against Integra when she was younger and not yet over the death of her father and uncle, he knew that method would not work. The boy was far too used to being abused. It would simply reinforce the conditioning, and torturing an already injured puppy held little appeal. Thinking deeply for a long moment, he finally came to a decision.

Slowly, Alucard reached up to remove his sunglasses, pocketing them and allowing the child to see his true eye color. While appearing unmoved by the action, curiously the vampire could detect that the simple gesture seemed to cause Harry to relax a small amount. Eye contact was important to the little mouse then? Perhaps not a rodent after all, as usually submissive prey found eye to eye contact distasteful.

The fedora was removed next, allowing an unshaded view of his face. Calculating his master's reaction to his next move, Alucard repressed a grin, keeping his face perfectly straight. Without warning, he brought the hand still holding his hat down in an obvious and low bow, drawing in and pressing the red cap to cover his heart and dropping to one knee in front of the now startled looking boy. The little one looked as if he were fighting a flight instinct as he stared at the vampire with slightly wide eyes.

A stifled gasp from Integra's direction informed Alucard that he had achieved his desired affect all around. The action was nearly exact to the one repeated years ago, in that small, dank cell in the sub-basement. Raising his head to stare into startling green eyes, he was pleased at the play of emotions he witnessed within. Unease, distrust, and a hint of fear were most prominent and easily picked out; however beneath the obvious... This boy was truly a fighter. Hope and determination not to give into the fear nearly consuming him shined through the carefully blank stare.

Assuredly, he would need to prove himself worthy of more than mere consideration as an heir to Hellsing. Alucard could tell though that such would be perfectly easy to deduce through breaking old habits. Which would prove interesting of itself. At last the vampire ceased his scrutinize, instead cocking his head to the side, though maintaining eye contact. His words were carefully quiet as he proclaimed,

"You will indeed be a fine heir to Hellsing one day, little master."

Disbelief joined the mass of emotions clearly visible to the master vampire's eyes. The child would obviously not hold much opinion of self worth. Though quite obviously the capacity was indeed there, as mere survival instinct alone could not spur a human to go to such lengths to escape their own 'family'. The puzzle before him would provide more than enough amusement to keep him interested in between assignments.

July 26, 1991; 9:00am, Hog's Head Bar, Hogsmeade.

Strange things were not unusual to encounter in the small wizarding town of Hogsmead. In fact, the unusual was quite usual, more so when school was in session, but the summer provided its own interesting situations. The small bar tucked away on a little traversed, but well known, lane was sleepy and almost depressingly devoid of patrons. Aberforth found it a bit of a relief though.

When all was quiet, it meant he could kick back and simply relax, without having to cater to the sleaze and filth who found such a place comforting, or appealing to conduct shady deals. Days like this were rare, as though the pub was small and out of the way, those very facts drew people in. Whether they be lone wolves or dark wizards. Or annoying older brothers. The grizzled proprietor had not seen hide nor twinkling head of a certain school master since the end of the previous school year. Quite frankly it set him on edge.

Not to be mistaken, Aberforth loved his sibling, but old men were prone to quarrels, no different than in younger years. Their latest had been regarding a desire to possess a very potent and potentially dangerous magical artifact. A very interesting if plain looking mirror, which the barkeep had caught wind of when eavesdropping on conversations the previous year. While Aberforth agreed that it should not be in the hands of dark wizards, Albus had insisted the thing be kept up at the school.

Being a very nosy person by nature, the older Dumbledore was well aware of a certain savior's attendance at the school the coming September. He was also suspicious of his brother's plotting. No matter the decade or situation, Albus was never happy if he could not scheme and plan an event to every nuance of possible occurrence. He even color and size coded his own sock drawer for Merlin's sake! Unable to truly blame him, in all honesty, Aberforth non the less was uneasy. After the last war, the elder had never been quite the same, though he could not place his finger on it.

Certainly losing Grindlewald to dark magics had been a devastating blow, even then his brother had coped well. Perhaps Tom Riddle's fallacy had been the last straw to some part of Albus' mind. Since the end of the last war, his brother had been quiet, though not entirely withdrawn. He still maintained his flair for dramatic clothing and his all-knowing front. In private however... No matter their differences, Aberforth had his suspicions.

Neither powerful wizard held illusions about Tom's deceased status. Aberforth himself had been there to witness the prophecy proclaimed by the twit, Trelawny. While she was unreliable while coherent, he knew a true seer when he saw one go into fits in his bar. Having heard of Harry Potter's birth from James Potter himself, Aberforth could put two and two together. He only hoped Albus would not let a simple prophecy cloud his judgment where the young Potter was concerned. Such things had a way of fulfilling themselves, without push and shove by old headmasters.

As if summoned by the thought, the door to the establishment opened, allowing what looked like a christmas tree to walk in. If not for the twinkling blue eyes and white beard, Aberforth would have sworn someone had been fiddling with animation spells. Hideous green and gold robes sparkled with red lights, accompanied by like-wise colored hat and boots. Marveling at his brother in mild horror, the thought crossed his mind to prepare a blinding spell for himself.

"A bit early for winter solstice, brother."

Albus paused and glanced down at himself with a chuckle, shaking his head in merriment. Aberforth winced, as he caught sight of the violent purple cloak accompanying the spectacle. He turned and poured himself a tall shot of Dragon Brine Whiskey, knowing a visit from the headmaster could likely only mean trouble. He had no wish to be sober while staring at that outfit. The twinkle in Albus' eyes intensified as he took a seat at the bar, knowing look in place.

"Ah, but I have discovered a wonderful tradition! It seems that American muggles celebrate something known as 'Christmas in July'! It's quite an exciting concept."

Downing the shot, Aberforth raised a faded eyebrow. "How... interesting."

That prompted a deep laugh from Albus, his gaze drifting to the smoke pouring from the barkeep's mouth after the drink. He looked interested despite himself, and Aberforth was reminded rather abruptly that Albus had never been much of a drinker. Reaching beneath the counter, he offered his brother a butterbeer, which was accepted with a cheery smile.

"Oh, no need to be like that, muggles are interesting people! And, is that the infamous Dragon Brine I've heard much about? Hadn't the ministry illegalized it after the fiftieth case of stomach burns?"

Ignoring the chiding tone, Aberforth shrugged and poured another. Ministry law had never much concerned him where alcohol was concerned. It simply took a few ruptured organs to get the body used to the acidic liquid, after which, it was a quite enjoyable experience. After the second shot went down, he grew impatient with the silence.

"What do you want, Albus?"

"How are Kendy and Arnold?"

Aberforth scoffed and turned to glare at his brother. The question may have seemed idle and polite to outsiders, but he knew his brother better than that. Even the honestly confused stare couldn't fool him.

"They're fine. Now what do you want?"

Gritting his teeth and barely refraining from reaching for his wand, he wanted to strangle Albus. Asking after his goats after their last argument about them meant his brother wanted something. His brother knew it too, as the friendly look slowly slipped away to one of polite interest, as if addressing an acquaintance rather than a family member.

"Have you heard any interesting news of late?"

"Mrs. Rendlewood is having an affair with the Widow Barice. And Hagrid is attempting to buy cockatrices off the black market again."

Aberforth leaned idly against the counter, brushing a piece of imaginary lint from his sleeve. He knew what bit of information his brother was asking for specifically, but it was going to cost him this time. Predictably, Albus frowned. Waiting patiently for the response, he hadn't long. Albus never was the patient sort.

"You know what I mean."

Scoffing under his breath, he withdrew a piece of parchment from his robes pocket and fiddled with it. It contained scrawling from a Dict-a-quill he kept positioned under the bar, recording various conversations happening while he was playing the oblivious barkeep. Albus knew about the quill, but he never seemed to care past what the information could do for him. Shaking his head in silent wonder at his brother's fallacies, Aberforth set the parchment on the counter, though did not withdraw his hand from it.

"I want your word that the Ministry will continue to keep their noses out of my business."

Albus waved a hand dismissively, making Aberforth's hackles raise. He kept the parchment firmly in hand as his brother reached for it, silently demanding a verbal response to the statement before Albus got what he wanted. The bit of parchment meant more to his brother than Aberforth did, and the same in reverse could be said regarding Aberforth himself. After their sister, and the mess with Grindlewald, there was no love lost between them.

"Alright. I promise to continue hedging quarries from the Ministry for you. They shan't interfere with you or your goats."

Nodding tightly, he released the parchment and pushed away from the counter to pace to the opposite end. He kept his back to Albus as the sound of parchment unfolding reached his ears. His brother would not be happy with the information, and that amused him. Glancing side-ways at the mirror behind the bar, he busied himself with cleaning, even as he watched the elder peruse the words. He knew exactly what particular section his brother was on, as the man's face paled beneath his beard, and he stood abruptly, exiting the pub with nary a farewell.

Sometimes, Aberforth loved his job.

July 26, 1991; 4:00pm, Spinner's End, Dining Room.

Never content to return to Hogwarts before the term had officially begun, Severus Snape found himself sorely displeased to discover a brightly clad Headmaster sitting at his kitchen table upon returning from his potions in the basement. Headmasters did not generally nor lightly invade their professors homes without leave or good reason. That is, most headmasters. Dumbledore seemed to be the exception to everything, and the dark professor was sorely tempted to activate the wards to forcibly eject said twinkling person from his house.

Such would be in bad taste, however, and Severus knew it the moment he caught sight of Dumbledore's expression. The old man seemed genuinely distressed over something, and glancing at the calendar on the wall, he could easily guess what. Of course it would be Potter. Such was confirmed when the Headmaster offered him a bit of parchment without even a greeting. Face drawing into a sour frown at the rudeness, he accepted the paper as if it were liable to bite his hand off.

The top half of the parchment was full of inane chatter, and was promptly skipped over. He realized belatedly that this was a script from a dict-a-quill and scoffed, though such thoughts were derailed as his gaze caught upon two particular names...

"Lucius Malfoy: Whisper What is Amelia thinking!"

"Regalius Yaxly: Whisper You know as well as I do. Though this is highly irregular even for her muggle-loving ways."

"Malfoy: Whisper But to-! Allowing muggles to interfere in a wizard-child's rearing... Especially those muggles... It's simply unacceptable."

"Yaxly: Whisper You almost sound concerned for Potter, Malfoy."

"Malfoy: Whisper Watch your tongue! I am merely concerned that his being with those muggles will deter our future endeavors."

"Yaxly: Whisper What endeavors? The master is dead."

"Malfoy: Whisper The master may be dead, but our efforts have not faded. Unless you were not as loyal to Him as you lead everyone to believe. Hellsing will severely hinder our efforts if we wish to crush the muggle-lovers' hopes."

"Yaxly: Scoff, Whisper They are mere muggles, even despite their little pet. Have you not been working to pass a bill to outlaw the Hellsing Organization? Work harder, rather than crying to myself about your tattered plans. It's bad enough I have to answer to Fudge's rantings about the same."

Mind working frantically to sort out the meaning, Several offered the paper back to the old man. His lips thinned into a tense line as he observed the headmaster. While the tidbit of news was interesting, he was wary as to how Dumbledore associated it with him enough to show and tell. He was nearly startled when the headmaster finally spoke. He sounded all of his one hundred years, and for once, Severus felt a small nagging of guilt, until he registered the words.

"Severus... I regret to ask this of you, as you have more than earned a rest where the Potters are concerned... But I require someone to go and speak with the head of the Hellsing Organization... To discover what, in truth, is going on with young Harry. The goblins understandably refuse to comment on it, even to myself, and the Hellsings don't hold the Dumbledore family in a good enough regard to speak with me."

Preparing to argue quite vehemently, Severus was halted from speaking as Albus at last looked him in the eye. He barely repressed a visible shudder at the commanding expression on the normally cheerful man's face. He was not being asked to do this, he was being ordered to. Clearly unhappy, though Dumbledore ignored it, he bowed stiffly.

"Of course... Headmaster. I will contact Sir Hellsing to arrange a meeting immediately."

"Oh, no need." Albus shook his head and fished around in his robes, withdrawing a slip of parchment, offering it to Severus. "The meeting has already been arranged, and a driver will pick you up in one hour sharp to drive you to the manor for dinner. Dress to impress, Severus. We must remove Harry from their care with the utmost respect. We wouldn't wish for the Ministry to become involved in this."

Grinding his teeth to prevent a growl from escaping, Severus snatched the paper from Dumbledore's grasp, past being polite at that information. Gazing at it, his fingers twitched, dearly wishing to curse the headmaster into oblivion. Ignoring the muted sound of disapparation, he glared daggers at the list of attire he was to wear to the meeting.

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Note: Happy Holidays. Hope you enjoy this chapter. I enjoyed writing the interactions once I finally got around to working on it.