December 1988

She had prepared herself for this year's christmas season, for the unending christmas puddings and bottomless mulled wine smuggled in by a few daring dormmates. In fact, it was the only daring thing a Ravenclaw would do, once they had sufficiently tore themselves away from their Book of the Week. Much less tame than any other house's festive celebrations.

Even the Hufflepuffs. Or rather, especially the Hufflepuffs. For some reason, one of them managed to get their hands on a book containing some of the most amusing holiday season pranks over the ages. "Compiled by some one with a lot of free time on their hands," Penelope surmised, sounding a bit jealous. If anyone ought to stumble on some interesting tome, shouldn't it be some Ravenclaw? They practically lived in the library anyway.

And to be one-upped by a bunch of Hufflepuffs no less.

Integra found it extremely amusing, seeing Hufflepuffs playing pranks on everyone. Their genial humour tampered what she came to know as Vicious Holiday Season rivalry between lions and snakes. The same prank by a lion against a snake would cause a small country to spontaneously combust. But since it was a "bloody badger" who did it, everyone seemed to merely smile deprecatingly, wrily, as they picked themselves up from the floor, dusted themselves off, and went on their way.

Or maybe it was a matter of House pride. Hufflepuff was often the perennial loser, anyway. The good-natured underdog who smiled even when they were hit by lightning.

A lot of good news came out from Hufflepuffs this year, it seemed. At least to Integra. Maybe because she had close Hufflepuff friends, she'd muse later on. But it didn't change the fact that she could find reasons to smile whenever she's around one of those badgers.

One of the best news came from Winny. This year she would not be left back at Hogwarts over christmas hols. In fact, she'd be leaving two days early! Her parents would be picking her up from school. They had booked themselves on a trip to... somewhere. Integra wasn't sure where. It was lost in all Winny's excited twittering.

The girl had yet to stop her monologue. It had cost her House more than a boatful of points in Potions, and cost her roommates a night's good sleep.

Yet, Integra thought as she walked towards her dormitory from her last class of the day, all in all, 1988 was good vintage not only for wine, but also for inter-house relationships here at Hogwarts.

All good things must come back down to earth, some time. And christmas cheer could only be joyful to a certain extent, especially with a certain Potions Master in residence. And this year, he seemed to be in a very bad mood.

Rounding off a corner, Integra heard him conversing with Professor McGonagall. Not conversing exactly, she corrected herself. More like complaining. Making his displeasure known .

And like any self-respecting Ravenclaw, she hung around, eavesdropping. Information, after all, was highly valuable in any form.

"...he had to come and throw a party!"

"Now now, Severus. He has always thrown a Christmas party. I can't remember a time he hasn't. You can hardly blame him. The poor man just lost his home. And what about all the guests he's invited?"

"He could uninvite them! And blame him? Why should I?" Professor Snape snorted. "How could he blow up his own house over a simple potion that even my most dunderheaded fourth year could do? What kind of potions master is that, I ask you?"

"The kind that taught you potions all those years ago."

"I think not!" he growled. "I taught myself potions. Then my various Masters at the Institute."

"Nevertheless," Professor McGonagall continued. "Horace's christmas party is still going to be held, whether you approve of it or not."

"Well," Professor Snape exhaled rather noisily. "I suppose, I will take comfort on the fact that he won't be throwing a New Year's Party, too."

"You take it anyway you want, Severus," Professor McGonagall said soothingly.

By the time Horace Slughorn's christmas party came around, Winny had already left for hols.

To the best of her knowledge, none of her yearmates were invited to the party, or any student of Hogwarts it seemed. Except for the Head Boy, Head Girl and the prefects.

Passing by the room where the party was held, she could almost understand Professor Snape's disdain. It was loud, entirely too boisterous. Who knew grown-up witches and wizards could be so banal, she thought.

Further down the corridor, she was waylaid by two men. One of them held a bottle of something-possibly alcohol of an acceptable vintage-in one hand. The other man, slightly taller, stood slightly back, a bit deeper into the shadows.

"Excuse me," the man with the bottle greeted her, free hand slightly outstretched, an apologetic smile looked like a harmless grimace on his face. "Do you know..."

"Follow the noise," Integra cut in, almost brusquely, pointing down the corridor. Her father would be appalled at her lack of manners, but she thought she wasn't feeling too well.

The man looked startled a bit, caught mid-question, but brushed off Integra's apparent lack of lady-like manners aside like it was nothing. Most likely, he didn't even notice. Children would be children after all. "Thank you, dear," the man said to her, bowing slightly like a person of good wizardly standing.

She stepped aside to give them room, but the taller man stopped to stand in front of her. He looked down at her from a great height, and she could see his eyes narrowing. She couldn't tell what colour his eyes were, as much as she couldn't tell what made her suddenly very anxious.

The man seemed to examine her for a bit and Integra fidgeted nervously. If this man, possibly a wizard, were to do something bad to her, she wouldn't be able to protect herself at all. She had no guns (Walter had managed to persuade her dear father let her bring a small gun, but only if she promised to keep it tucked safely in her trunk). The small carved wand-like wood tucked inside her robe was purely decorational.

She took an involuntary step back, even as the man straightened his back.

"A Hellsing at Hogwarts, I presume?" the man asked, smiling slightly-and almost like a sordid cliche, he smiled in such a way as to let the moon glint off his teeth. my, my, but what long sharp teeth you have, Integra thought suddenly.

"A... vampire at Hogwarts, I presume?" she asked, simultaneously congratulating herself for not stepping back, flinching, or wavering.

She wasn't sure what happened next, exactly. Nor was she sure how long she had stood riveted to the spot long after the wizard and his vampire had walked away... following the noise to Horace Slughorn's christmas party.

It was only later on at night that she realized the significance of that short encounter.

Sanguini-the name of the vampire, according to one all-knowing Ravenclaw upperclassman-was the first vampire she ever encountered, despite being born into a vampire-hunting family enterprise.

She wasn't quite sure what a Hellsing should do when faced with their first vampire. She knew however, that gaping and standing rooted at the spot would not be considered proper. Possibly slightly more acceptable than immediately fainting or being reduced to a blubbery mess.

Would a young Hellsing shoot their first vampire? Stake it first, shoot later? Take a bloody head and put it as a trophy next to the reindeer's?

She decided to write to her father, instead.