Walter C. Dornez and the Return of the Man-Who-Triumphed

Summary: ?

Chapter One

She hardly ever received such missions anymore. Ever since her human started working for the smoking not-magical, she had simply hovered except for one or two flights to France to see the Veela-family and to the Dark House to see the little changeling each year. Other than that, however…

But she relished in the feeling of the air streamlining her body as she swooped, soared, streaked toward her human with her mission in her claws. The large stone nest of her human's non-magical came into view and she cried out in joy, swooping low over a bloody not-human with a snap of her beak in warning (what being could be foolish enough to dare go against her human?) before with an angling of her wings she flew into the single open window on the upper floors.

Her human was there, staring down at the bloody non-humans with a faint sneer of disgust on his disguised features, before noticing her and smiling gently. His arm moved so she could land on it with a graceful flutter.

"Hullo, Hedwig," he rumbled in his deep voice. She hooted quietly in greeting, taking a moment to fix a few flyaway strands of hair from his ponytail, before holding out her mission with one taloned foot. Her human blinked his brilliant eyes in honest surprise before carefully taking her mission.

His hand reached up to stroke his darling Familiar's feathers while he carefully opened the envelope. There was no writing on the front, so he was cautious—he knew Hedwig would never bring him anything truly dangerous but he still preferred to be safe rather than sorry. He didn't live this long to die because of a letter, after all.

His eyes scanned the page as the screams of the undead outside his window began, accompanied with a familiar hail of gunfire and positively gleeful laughter. He heard none of this, however, his vision tunneling on the letter.

One eye twitched behind a monocle before, taking a deep breath, Walter C. Dornez turned from the window and Alucard's excited bloodbath. Sir Integra would need to be informed foremost…

He would decide what to do from there.

-Hellsing-

Understandably, given what she knew of Walter's history, Sir Integra Fairbrook Windgate Hellsing was rather upset by the missive her butler and lifelong companion had just received. But let it not be said that Sir Integra was anything less than professional, for the only signs that she was agitated to those outside of her closest confidents were the mound of old cigar butts in her ashtray and the tightening of the skin around her deep blue eyes.

Walter was studiously silent as he lit the fifth of Sir Integra's cigars in the last hour alone. It was amazing, he mused silently, how much more patient he had become in the last forty years of his life—out of necessity, of course. Hellsing was far from a laid-back organization and oftentimes his newfound-ish ability to "go with the flow" (as Pip often quoted) was the only reason he was still alive. He was forced to develop this mostly because of Alucard's…creative actions.

…alright, it was almost solely because of Alucard's extreme actions.

"After all these years, why contact you again?" asked Sir Integra finally, taking a long lungful of smoke and slowly breathing it out. Walter gave a wry smile to his master.

"They must have decided that after my far from ideal send-off last time, I would be…less than willing to help them," he deduced lightly, "and it is only in this extreme of a condition I would even consider it."

"And are they correct?"

Walter gave pause before smiling. "It does not matter if they are or are not. The final decision of what happens next is yours, Sir Integra."

"Hmmm," was all Sir Integra responded with at first. She picked up the thick yellowed parchment from her desk and slowly read it again, Walter simply watching—he had already read it so many times he had no use for the copy anyway. Eventually, Sir Integra sighed through her nose, flicking the ashes at the end of her cigar into her overflowing ashtray.

"If vampires and possibly Millennium are truly involved, we can't risk not investigating," she said quietly. "I am very sorry, Walter."

"Quite alright, Sir," Walter smoothly said even as his neck prickled due to a familiar stir of energy. He continued as though he had not noticed the entrance of Alucard. "It is probably the best move available."

"They've finally come crawling back for your help?" asked Alucard's smooth voice, dangerous smile in place as (almost) always and sunglasses flashing in the light. It was only because of his years of knowing the vampire that Walter could identify the protectiveness within this smile rather than the simple bloodthirstiness most others did.

"They made it quite clear this is a last resort," Sir Integra replied with faint disgust, handing off the letter to her vampire warrior. Alucard wrinkled his nose just slightly and spoke as he read.

"Can you blame them? After your…interesting history with them, I'm honestly surprised they bothered at all. They must know you're reluctant…to say the least."

Alucard darkly chuckled at his own joke.

"As I told Sir Integra, it does not matter if I am reluctant," said Walter absently with a sideways glance at his vampire associate. "If Millennium is truly involved, something must be done. If not…well. It is better safe than sorry, as they say."

"I still think we should just watch them burn," cooed Alucard in what could almost pass as a soothing way if not for his obvious bloodlust and sharp-toothed, malice-filled grin.

"You know we cannot let that happen. There are too many innocents involved to allow it."

Alucard scoffed. "Ah, your hero complex shines through."

"That's enough, Alucard," Sir Integra said severely.

"As you wish, my master," said the No-Life King with a mocking bow and sharp smirk. The two humans pointedly ignored him.

"Sir, when would you like for me to leave?" asked Walter as he flicked open his lighter for Sir Integra's latest cigar. She took a moment to enjoy her nicotine before blowing out a ring of smoke.

"…it would probably be best to leave sooner rather than later," she finally said. "Then you also leave them sooner rather than later. Take Seras with you…she could use more field experience."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Alucard intercepted, still smirking. "After all, the police girl still isn't taking her blood…"

There was a pause before Sir Integra's mouth slowly curled into a smirk that had in the past sent instant shivers down her enemies' spines. "Well perhaps this will convince her of the importance. Besides, we both know you'll be carefully listening for any sign of distress through the shadows."

Alucard scoffed again but this time it was obviously a cover-up. Walter had to stifle a chuckle at the vampire's childish denial; it wasn't as if his fondness of the Draculina was a secret, after all.

"You should pack, Walter," said Sir Integra with sudden softness and a gentle smile at the startled butler. "I will personally make the arrangements. Don't hesitate to call if you want. And, also…give them Hellsing's version of 'petty revenge' on behalf of one of our most trusted agents, alright?"

After a moment Walter smiled and bowed deeply. "Of course, Sir," he said fondly. With a final nod to both Sir Integra and Alucard, Walter walked off, feeling much better about the situation with the unbridled support of the woman he viewed as a niece and that of the most powerful vampire in existence…whom also happened to be the closest thing to a friend he had.

(Later, Walter would reflect on how pathetic it was that his closest companion was a murderous, bloodsucking hell-spawn of a vampire that was a good 450 years older than he was.)

-Hellsing-

Luckily it was overcast when the taxi pulled in to the street that day, or else Seras would have been forced to arrive at a later date. As it was she was simply bundled up in clothes that covered every inch of her skin, including pink gloves, a purple scarf covering the lower half of her face, large hot pink sunglasses covering the top half of her face, and a floppy yellow hat. Walter had discretely taken a picture of the…erm…unique ensemble before they left the Hellsing Manor, to Alucard's delight.

"Why do I have to wear this?" moaned Seras as soon as the taxi had left, pulling irritably at her hat's brim. "Do you guys just enjoy making me suffer or something?"

"Far from it, Miss Seras," Walter said cordially with as professional of a smile as he could manage while looking at her. "We simply worry about your reactions to the light. Until you embrace your vampirism and all involved with it, you will have to make do."

Seras grumbled but said nothing more, looking up and down the relatively deserted street. "Erm, Walter, where is this house we're supposed to go to?"

Wordlessly, Walter held out a piece of parchment, which Seras looked over dubiously. "… 'The Order of the Phoenix'?" she said slowly. A glance up at the street later and she frowned more deeply. "Wait, there's no Number 12—"

She cut herself off, jaw hanging behind her scarf, as the houses began to shift and spread. In the space being formed between Number 11 and Number 13, a small rock seemed to rumble before expanding outwards…and then there was a house, larger than those around it, darker, dilapidated, dangerous—or so something in the back of Seras's mind insisted. Next to the rickety front door was a tattered golden 12.

Walter watched with amusement as Seras sputtered and tried to find something to say until he casually mentioned, "We should get inside before you attract any more attention, Miss Seras. The house will not bite…yet."

Casually picking up the two suitcases that he had packed for them, Walter strolled up to the door, listening to Seras yelp in surprise and scramble after him as he stifled an amused grin. Well there would be one source of amusement in this visit, to say the least…

Walter paused. Took a deep breath. And finally opened the door.

…

Chapter Two

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, had changed little in the last forty-five years since Walter stepped foot within it. It was still dusty and decaying, covered in filth that had the butler side of him scoffing in disgust, with too many shadows and not enough light to make any normal human who entered comfortable. There was the old clawed umbrella stand next to the door; the ratty black rug on the ground; the severed heads displayed proudly over the tapestry of the Black Family. The only real change was the lack of anything living at the moment that Walter could sense…aside from himself that was.

"Where are we?" asked Seras with quite a bit of disgust. While she was far from the girly-type, she did have standards about basic levels of cleanliness—which this house no doubt fell far, far below.

"The Ancestral Home of the Ancient and Noble House of Black," Walter drawled as he glanced up at the severed heads. A faint grimace crossed his face. "…well, at least Kreatcher had his lifelong wish filled, I suppose. Laid in a place of 'honor' with the rest of his ancestors…crazy elf."

Yet Walter had a fond tone to his voice even as he said this, turning from the heads to the stairs as his vampire escort stifled a screech of surprise. "Be quiet, Miss Seras," he said absently as he began to climb, "or else you'll wake Mrs. Black."

"…Mrs. Black?" Seras said weakly as she scuttled after Walter, yanking her hat, scarf, and sunglasses from her head. Her hair was notably windswept-looking but she was too concerned with getting rid of the rest of her over-clothes to notice, much to Walter's secret amusement. "I…is there someone else here?"

"Not in person, no. Mrs. Black is the painting behind that curtain next to the door. She's very likely to start screaming if suddenly awoken."

Seras was silent at this revelation, probably too overwhelmed to speak, which suited Walter fine. He was searching for the most habitable room in the hallway which he quickly found to be Regulus' room.

He stifled a sigh. Of course.

"Miss Seras, you shall be in this room, if it is to your liking?" he mildly asked. He waited a moment to see if she would object before setting her suitcase just inside the doorway. "Well then, I shall be right across the hall. When you have settled in come down to the kitchen, opposite the stairs. We have much to discuss before the meeting commences."

With a final bow, Walter left the young Draculina to her own devices.

-Hellsing-

An hour later, while Seras continued to reel with the knowledge Walter had dumped on her last-minute (at the request of Alucard, of course) and Walter began to make dinner to calm his own, hidden nerves, the first of many complications arose.

Namely, Seras was snapped out of her stupor by a stick thrust into her face by an angry-looking woman not much older than she was with her brunette hair chopped in a cute bob and brown eyes flashing in danger.

"How did you get in here?" snapped the woman. Seras blinked belatedly and gave a nervous smile.

"Um…I took the front door?" she offered. The woman before her narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

"That's not what I meant! This place is protected by the Fidelous, so someone had to tell you where to find it…specifically one person. So. How. Did. You. Get. In. Here."

"Hey, it's okay," soothed a man who crept up behind the irate woman, wrapping long arms around her waist. Fiery red hair fell about his face messily and he was visibly relaxed even though his bright blue eyes were trained warningly on Seras. "I know you're worried, but don't jump to conclusions."

The woman took a deep, shaky breath, then said in an only slightly less sharp tone, "Who are you?"

Seras tried to make her smile more sincere but she got the feeling it was closer to a grimace. "I'm, ah, Seras Victoria, ex-firearms specialist of the London Metropolitan Police and current investigator and heavy-fire specialist for the Hellsing Organization. Nice to meet you?"

"You're part of Hellsing? The group that hunts vampires and other supernatural creatures?" asked the redhead eventually. Seras relaxed upon realizing she didn't need to explain her unique job and nodded.

"Mostly vampires and ghouls, but yes, that's us."

(Although from what she had just heard, Walter alone took care of the 'other supernatural creatures' more often than not.)

-END-

MKL's Post-Production Notes (8-26-13): I just got into Hellsing about four months ago, but damn, I don't regret it! ^.^ This began not even minutes after I watched the first three episodes of Hellsing Ultimate OVA~

SPOILERS: This is obviously AU. Here, the HP books took place about fifty years before; instead of Grindlewald's War happening during WW2, it was Voldemort's War (it's otherwise canon). Harry fled the Wizarding World after the end of the War when the Ministry began running a smear campaign on him (again) ultimately culminated in him being attacked by a mob and barely fleeing from it, ending up on the grounds of Hellsing. Integra's grandfather found him there and basically trained him and sent him off into WW2 to fight against Millennium. Hellsing Ultimate canon happened from there, except I refuse to believe Walter ever willingly worked with the Nazis, and sometime after the third episode of the OVA but before the Millennium battle thingy this happens. Alucard was going to make a few guest appearances and torture the wizards, but for the most part it would be centered around Seras coming into her vampire heritage and Harry/Walter forgiving the Wizarding World...or at least becoming more tolerant of it.