Summer 1987
She didn't know how long she'd stood by the window, staring outside until sunspots blinded her eyes. When she turned around to face her father once more, the room seemed to have plunged into darkness. "I suppose saying 'no' to the Queen is out of the question, then, father?"
A Hellsing shouldn't sulk, she knew. But it's not very fair, really. She'd been looking forward to starting secondary school with Mary and Alasdair, John and Elizabeth and...
"It won't be so bad," her father said, interrupting her mental roll-call, collecting her into a loose hug. "You'll make new friends, and you can still maintain correspondence with your friends."
"It won't be the same!"
"Think of it as a challenge. You've never backed down from a challenge before."
"But what would I learn there?" she asked, sniffing inelegantly. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..." she tested the words on her tongue. She found she didn't like the notion of it one bit. "Magic. I suppose I'll need to have a wand, too, even though I can't do one whit of magic."
"I'm sure there are things that you can do," Arthur Hellsing said, as he took the letter and read off it. "The Queen wouldn't have insisted if she thought the school entirely inappropriate."
"Well, who knew what she thought. She's quite barmy sometimes."
"Hush now, no more of that," Arthur admonished her lightly. "I'm sure something has been arranged for you."
"I still don't understand why... I mean..."
"Ah," Arthur said, smiling fondly down at his headstrong daughter. "Why don't you give it a try, see how it goes?"
A school of magic. She supposed she could try. She hoped it wouldn't be terrible. Would it really be different from hunting vampires for a living? Hopefully there would be vampires at the school she can practice her hunting skills on. She wondered whether it would be allowed.
September 1987
She sat next to her father in the car, parked on a roadside, looking outside the window at a pile of ruins in a distance. "Such a run-down school," she sighed, folding her hands on one of the textbooks provided by this purported school of magic. Books and pamphlets had arrived gradually over the summer by owl. Great carrier owls that shed like an avenging angel all over her father's library. She had looked through the materials and found that she could maybe stand rune lessons, astronomy, and arithmancy. It couldn't be worse than all the occult lessons she received back at Hellsing manor.
She had also wondered about herbology and dreamt of unicorns. She was still neither here nor there about history of magic. She was less pleased about learning the vocabulary of the wizarding world. Squibs and muggles. Didn't sound quite pleasant to her, really. She guessed she'd be a muggle. Divination reminded her of a certain wild-eyed, unwashed woman she saw at a village fête some years ago. She wondered if Potions would be like cooking, something she's terribly dreadful at. Transfiguration and Charms sounded impossible without magic, so she doubted she'd ever willingly sit in any of those classes.
What little she'd read between then and now couldn't quite change her mind about Hogwarts, despite her father making enthusiastic sounds every so often when reading through the literatures with her. Moreover, one of the manor's two poplar trees had keeled over one day, "out of old age," the arborist assured her, and Walter had gleefully fashioned a handsome looking wand. Although she doubted she it would allow her to sprout magic overnight. Still, she brought it along with her out of whimsy.
She glared at the ruins, as if it had offended her delicate sensibilities. Suddenly, it wasn't a ruin anymore. Like magic (oh the irony of the word! she thought as she tried to recover from her shock), a woman appeared by the car, a broom in her hand, a smile on her face. Walter, who was already standing outside the car, moved to open the door for Sir Arthur Hellsing and his daughter.
"You must be Miss Integra Hellsing," the woman greeted her. "And Sir Arthur Hellsing," she addressed her father, "and Mr Walter Dolnez, I presume," she inclined her head at the slightly amused Walter. "Welcome to our school. My name is Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, amongst other things."
Integra muttered her greeting politely, as she was taught. It wouldn't do for her to look uncouth and uneducated. She might not like the idea of going to school here, but she wouldn't besmirch her family name by being uncivilised either.
Soon, they were driving up a gravelly path towards the castle, with Professor McGonagall pointing the way ("Oh, it's been a while since I've rode in a muggle car"). They drove past a lake, watched the hills undulate lazily along the way. Soon they arrived in front of the great castle, grander up close than when she saw it from afar. They piled out of the car and she couldn't help but gasp when small long-eared, large-eyed creatures popped out of thin air collecting her luggage and disappearing as quick as they arrived. She couldn't help but notice that the car disappeared along with them.
"Ah, don't mind those house elves," Professor McGonagall. "They're so very excited every start of the school year. Your car will be washed and cleaned and returned to you safely, Sir Arthur, Mr Dolnez. Never fear."
"I trust your hospitality, Professor," Walter replied.
"Now, please come with me, we have a lot to do today. Getting you sorted, finding you a room and some roommates, your schedules. Oh what a busy day ahead. I'm only sorry that you missed the Welcoming Feast, Miss Hellsing."