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Last Stand	By : Anguifer Category: Hellsing > Crossovers Views: 3321 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any publicly recognizable characters, settings, histories, etc. belonging to Hellsing or Harry Potter and make no profit from their use.

Chapter List
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~Last Stand 2~

It was queer- the feeling that washed over Harry as he stepped through the liquid wall. Almost like flying, yet he could feel ground firmly beneath him. More like apparating, or using a time turner. His senses were confused. The light still blinded him. A crushing pressure on his ears prevented him from hearing. His body felt numb to all stimuli. Had he been able to, he would have cried out. There was no pain, but the fear he felt at the loss of control was overwhelming.

Color slowly began creeping back to his vision. Ages it seemed to take, yet only minutes had passed in reality. Feeling returned to his limbs and he crumbled forward onto cool, wet grass. Crawling forward, his fists clenched as he blinked away the afterimage and caught his bearings. It seemed that he was on the lawn of an impressive estate. It was reminiscent of Malfoy Manor, yet brighter in nature. Several feet away from him he spied an armed guard staring in shock. The man twitched and brought his rifle to bear as the others tumbled out of, what seemed to him, thin air.

Slowly, Harry unshouldered his weapon and duffel, letting them fall to the ground next to him as he showed the man his open palms. Equally slowly he brought his arms up over his head and laid flat on the ground, unmoving. Silently he prayed the others would get his drift and follow suit. It would do them no good if they all were shot immediately upon escaping their world. From the way the man relaxed after the initial shock it was pleasing to think they had.

The guard fumbled with a walkie talkie fixed to the shoulder of his uniform and spoke into it. From his accent he was British. Conversing with someone on the other end the man seemed to explain the situation. A cool female voice reached Harry's ears. Her words were less than comforting.

“Take them to the dungeons. You say they seem to be cooperating? If they resist, shoot them. Ascertain the leader and bring him to me.”

The soldier nodded to himself and turned to the motley crew laid out on the grounds. He approached cautiously but stayed out of anyone's reach. Harry silently approved. It was obvious to him that this guard was well trained. He could respect that. Quietly, so as not to startle the man, he spoke up.

“I am the leader of this group. My men will give you no trouble. All weapons will be surrendered without issue and they will not resist.”

The last sentence was said a bit louder and with force so his friends could hear. It was a warning as much as a statement. He would personally shoot any of them who disobeyed. They knew nothing of the situation they found themselves in and anyone falling out of line would be a liability. The soldier looked at him and nodded eyes equally hard.

“Right. You lot! On your feet in a line! Make no sudden movements or I will shoot!”

They complied to the letter. Harry, as he got his feet under him, turned to do a mental headcount. Everyone who had contributed blood was there. Obviously it had worked. He moved to stand at the head of the line, just in front of Lucius and Severus. All of them stood perfectly at attention, even the 'civilians'. There were twenty-two of them including the children. The soldier stood in front of Harry and motioned with his weapon.

“We'll do this one at a time starting with you. Remove any and all weapons from your person and set them on the ground.”

Harry complied without issue. As he reached carefully for his belt knife and dropped it to the ground at his feet, the guard was joined by ten others. They spread themselves evenly down the line and did not relax their weapons, even those at the end with the children. Harry knew they would not hesitate to shoot and kill any of them who put up a fuss.

It took a moment or two for all weapons to be divested from his body. Several knives, three grenades, and two side-arm pistols were placed on the ground. The same actions were repeated several times over with the others. Privately Harry was amused at the guards' shocked looks as several of the children dropped knives as well. By the time they were all done, there was a veritable armory laid out.

The original guard walked back up the line to stand before Harry. They stared at each other for several moments before the soldier gave an order to move out. The wizards followed without hesitation. They all took the threats of violence seriously. They were led over the grounds towards the main entrance. Along the way they were joined by six other guards. It was both pleasing and troubling to Harry that they seemed so well prepared for unexpected arrivals.

Once admitted into the mansion the guards split up. Four went with Harry and the original soldier, while the rest directed the group down a hallway beneath the grand staircase. Lucius and Severus shot Harry concerned looks which went ignored as the five led the green eyed wizard up the staircase and out of sight. Several twists and turns later left them standing in front of a set of imposing oak doors.

The guards did not knock, simply entered since they were expected. Taking in his surroundings, Harry was pleased at the office within. It was large, and would have been imposing to most others. The checkered black and white tiles gave the illusion of space, in addition to conservative decor. At the back of the room sat a large desk, along with the most imposing thing present.

A blonde woman sat stiff-backed and blank as they approached. Her blue eyes were cold and calculating behind wire frame glasses. She could have been related to the Malfoys. To her right stood a man in retainer garb, monocle over one eye, and black hair tied at the nape of his neck. He stood as stiffly as the woman sat. He looked to be older, however experience told Harry that looks were always deceiving.

As the unit came to a halt before the desk Harry instinctively fell into a habitual military posture and salute. This woman was quite obviously a leader of her people and therefor deserved respect. Unknowing to him, the guards had also taken on stances mirroring his own. The action from him seemed to surprise her, as her eyebrow raised and her upper lip seemed to twitch against her will. She stood with her hands pressed flat to the surface of the desk.

“At ease soldiers. Report the situation.”

Once again, Harry unwittingly mirrored the actions of the soldiers behind him as they dropped the salute and stood at rest. The one who had initially observed their arrival stepped forward next to Harry.

“Sir, this man appeared out of nowhere. He seemed to drop out of thin air out on the front lawn with roughly twenty others. They did not seem hostile and complied with all orders. They were well armed, and most were in combat gear. There were children with them, some of which were also armed. This man claims to be their leader, and the rest were detained to the sub-basement as ordered.”

The woman nodded sharply and turned her gaze to Harry. He met her look and waited patiently for the questions to come. He was not disappointed.

“Who are you? Where do you come from? How did you get here? What is your purpose for trespassing?”

He took a moment to gather his thoughts before answering. “My name is Harry Potter. I come from a classified location in Scotland. I and twenty-two others came here through ritual magics. We were in the midst of World War III and found ourselves in pressing need of a retreat. We meant no harm in coming here. We simply seek shelter, and aid in becoming acquainted with this reality.”

As he suspected, those gathered simply showed mild shock and caution at his admission. Judging by the soldier's lack of terror at the display of magic on the lawn, he had suspected this to be the case. They were familiar with magic. Now he only had to hope they were not hostile.

Keen eyes stared the woman down and she held his gaze unflinchingly. Again, he approved. She was a strong leader. Not many could hold his gaze without shrinking away. Severus had once told him that it was because the death and carnage he had witnessed reflected out from his soul. The thought nearly made him snort. His friend may have been over dramatic with the analogy, but he knew that he showed his emotions through his eyes, if nothing else.

Several seconds passed before the woman nodded. Her voice had an edge to it as she spoke again, “I am Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. This is my organization you have stumbled into. We hunt vampires and any other creatures who threaten England's borders. Your troops will be detained until it can be decided whether or not we can trust your word. You will have free rein, however if you interfere with our operation or pose a threat, you and your men will be executed. Walter will show you to your rooms and inform you of the rules of your probation. You may speak with your men afterward.”

Turning to the soldiers, she dismissed them. The butler stepped forward and approached Harry. Amusingly, he almost reminded the wizard of an older, black-eyed Sirius. Old though he was, he retained the lightness in his step that denoted youth. The look he gave Harry over the monocle also held a hint of mischief under the serious air. He motioned Harry to follow him out of the office, but not before Harry turned and saluted Sir Integra once more.

It was habit for him. Even in recent years of facing Voldemort he had saluted the red-eyed snake. Nine years of military-like training were ingrained in him. Anyone obviously in power during any given situation deserved respect. Even if only for capturing such a skilled warrior as Harry. The only leader he refused to salute had been Dumbledore. That man had lost all of Harry's respect through his actions and misdeeds.

Such dark thoughts caused his mood to plummet even further as he followed the retainer through the halls. Unconsciously he mapped the path in his mind for future reference. They stopped in front of an old single oak door. Once opened, it revealed a lavishly decorated suite. A four poster bed sat against one wall, next to a wardrobe and set of dressers. There were three windows lining the wall opposite the door, against which was a full desk and chair. Another door situated on the fourth wall led to what must have been a wash closet. A small table and two cushioned chairs completed the look. The ensemble was decorated in rich burgundy and deep green colors, with hardwood floors covered sporadically with multi-colored rugs.

All in all it was a beautiful sight to Harry, whom was use to populating army tents and stone dungeons while not on missions. That bed practically called out to him as he entered. The adrenalin which had kept him going up to this point had worn off and he felt the weight of several sleepless nights crash into him. He forced it back however, as Walter began to speak.

“These will be your rooms until further notice. As Sir Integra said, you may come and go as you please, however you may not leave the grounds or interfere in our business. Both you and your soldiers will have meals brought to you in your respective rooms. It is expected that you explain to them the situation. Any hostilities or lack of compliance will be dealt with harshly. You will be held fully accountable for any incidents caused by yourself or your troops.

After Sir Integra has deemed you a non-threat to security, they will be released and allowed the same rights as you. If there is anything you require, or if you have any questions, you may use that phone on the table to contact me. My extension is 49385. Remember it, as it will not be repeated. Now, I will show you to the basement.”

The man turned sharply on his heels and led Harry back through the mansion to the ground floor. From there they took the same rout under the grand staircase as the others. On the way, Walter explained that the others were being held in the sub-basement dungeons. They had been split up into five separate cells. Four to five people per cell. They were spacious enough to easily accommodate so many. They each had cots for themselves, and would receive three meals a day. The eight children had been split into four groups, with two children for every two or three adults. Harry would be allowed to visit them once a week.

The adults would be provided history books to peruse, and the youngest children would be allowed crayons and paper for amusement. Harry's mood lifted at that. It amused him that these people assumed the children would act like children. Of course he knew that the gesture would be appreciated, however most of the children would be more interested in reading the history books than coloring. The youngest of the group was five years old, and even she had seen death. In fact, she had been one of the armed ones.

Once in the basement they walked down several corridors and another set of stairs. It was cold this far below ground, with a bitter edge to it. They halted in front of a row of iron doors. Harry observed that each was locked with an electronic key pad. Talking could be heard from the one directly in front of him; however it ceased as Walter put in a code and the door swung open with a click.

Four pairs of eyes locked on Harry as he stepped forward at Walter's beckoning, remaining silent, waiting for him to speak first. Severus, Lucius, Bill, and Ginny appeared in good health, if a bit put out at the situation. Harry sent them a beaming grin and sauntered over to plop himself on one of the cots. He ignored the eye rolls his actions received as he observed the cell. It was constructed of dark stone, and was rather bland in appearance. However the cots were acceptable and were piled high with scratchy blankets to allow the prisoners to ward off the cold. There was also a crude toilet in one corner.

For a dungeon it was quite nice. Harry had stayed in worse. Finally he turned to his impatient lieutenants and cocked his head to the side. It prompted Bill to snort at him, “Please try and be serious about this. What are the terms of our stay?”

Harry flipped the hair from his eyes and smirked. He knew his mood swings served as a constant source of annoyance in such situations. It could not be helped though. Gods knew he tried to keep a leash on it. Severus' concerns for his sanity were not entirely unfounded and Harry knew it. The knowledge at least served as a constant reminder to curb such tendencies even if he could not stop them altogether. He grew solemn.

“You lot are going to stay down here as 'guests' until I can convince the leader of the organization that we're trustworthy. They seem to be muggles, yet they know of magic and claim to be vampire hunters. You are not to do anything construed as hostile. Be on your best behavior and wait it out patiently. Who had the scroll?”

“Charlie. He dropped it with the rest of our stuff on the lawn.” Ginny supplied.

Harry nodded, pleased that it had not been left behind or lost in transit. He would need to find it and destroy it when the opportunity presented itself. They could not risk anyone else stumbling across it and using it. Such knowledge was too precious to let fall into the wrong hands now that it had served its purpose. Harshly aware of Walter's presence just outside the door, Harry worded his next order carefully.

“Take care of the children, behave yourselves; and by all means, stay safe.”

They alternately saluted or bowed their heads in understanding. Harry intended for all of them to adhere to the conditions of their stay, however he also fully intended for them to defend themselves if their hosts became hostile in turn. Exiting the room with a brief farewell, he repeated the process with the other cells. Mission accomplished, he followed Walter back up to the main floors. Although he knew the man must have picked up on the true nature of his repeated order to his friends, he said nothing on the topic. Either he silently approved of Harry's actions or he would report it to Sir Integra as misconduct.

The two men parted ways on the second floor. Walter made towards Integra's office, while Harry went back to his rooms. He was positively exhausted and despite the healing potions earlier, his body ached at the remembered wounds. Truly he did not wish to sleep, but he needed to be in top condition in case anything came up. Already he had been awake for three days straight. Nightmares were common place for him, however he knew there would be a new addition to them.

Collapsing onto the bed, he stared at the canopy blankly. Already the mania that had gripped him minutes before was fading to depression. What had he dragged them all into? While the future of their old world was certain without a doubt, now he had no clue what awaited them in this world. Their world was dead by now. He had evacuated them so quickly because he knew. The British Air Force would have already dropped their missiles on the encampment at Hogwarts by now. He had seen it in his vision, and the knowledge had been fused into his mind. Had they not escaped, they would have been caught in the blasts at dawn of the night they left.

The shock finally settled in and he felt a chill seep into his bones. They had left at roughly six in the morning. Had they been any later, they all would have been killed as all the weight of the once great castle collapsed in on them. Had he not realized the importance of those schematics, none of them would have survived to see another day. The thought of his own death did not bother him nearly as much as the thought that all of his friends would have died.

In war death was expected. All of them had been brushed by it at one point or other. All of them knew and accepted the risks. However that was different. Those incidents were during the chaos of battle. Never before had Harry had firsthand knowledge that any of them were going to die. The full realization settled upon him, leaving him breathless. It was one thing for his friends to die in battle, without his having knowledge of it before it happened. It was entirely another thing for him to have knowledge of it and not be able to do anything about it.

The harsh realities of True war had never been as clear to him as they were in that moment. He had been willing to forsake billions of people in one instance, for the simple sake of survival. He would not have been able to live without the support his friends provided. In the vision, he had been one of the few to have escaped the wreckage of the castle. He had been the only one of his group to pull through the debris. The vision had shown him what he would have become had he not had his troops to anchor him. To keep him sane.

Shudders wracked through him as he drifted to sleep. In his dreams he was plagued by images of death and decay and misery. Some were memories. Yet some were of the vision, of a world of scorched earth and burning skies. A dead planet. All wrought upon them by his own hands.

~~~

Back in Integra's office

The door closed behind Walter and their new guest, allowing Integra a moment of privacy to compose herself. While she had allowed no emotion to show while addressing the odd man, under the surface she was unnerved by that green stare. He was a puzzle and an oddity. Obviously he showed military training by his actions and appearance, but there was something off about him.

The stranger, Harry Potter, wore an American army issue combat uniform, yet was quite obviously British in origin. He claimed to be from another world that was in the grips of World War III, yet did not elaborate how, other than to state that he used magic to get him and his men to Hellsing. Quite frankly he had answered every question without actually giving any information. That told her that he was familiar with interrogation. Several scars were evident even though only his arms, neck, and head were visible. He had obviously seen combat, and was well muscled.

He appeared to be only slightly older than Integra herself. Yet he bore himself like a grizzled veteran. From what Stevens had said about his group, for even the children to be armed, it must have been a savage world they came from. She could sympathize with their need for asylum; however it was necessary to keep them under a tight guard until she could determine whether or not they were sincere. She would have to interrogate Mr. Potter more thoroughly, and question his comrades. Hellsing had its own battles to face at the moment, and for all they knew this was a trick.

A familiar dark presence stepped through the wall to the side of her desk. Black hair, fierce red eyes, flashing grin. Alucard cut an imposing figure as he came to stand at Integra's right hand, red overcoat swirling around his legs. He looked suspiciously smug, and the head of Hellsing knew he had been eaves dropping. For once it was a welcome intrusion. She eyed him as she took out a cigar from the case on her desk and lit it with a silver zippo.

“Well, what do you think?”

His grin grew impossibly wide, revealing abnormally sharp canines. “This shall prove to be amusing, my Master. His mind is tightly guarded and I could only sense his emotions and surface thoughts. He was speaking the truth. They mean no harm in coming here. Yet he would willingly kill any who threaten him or those under his command.”

Integra made a non-committal sound in the back of her throat. Her orders still stood. The fact that Alucard could not look into his mind only served to increase her suspicion. She trusted the word of her servant, as he was bound to her. However even the king of lies and deceit could be fooled on occasion. Thinking deeply for several minutes, she finally spoke, “Keep an eye on him. I wish to know if he acts oddly or violates the terms of his stay. Also occasionally look in on his men and report similarly on them.”

Alucard bowed deeply, still smiling. This really did promise to be an entertaining assignment. Unlike his Master, he had seen the look in the soldier's eyes as he had mentioned his world's war. That look, while bespoke of a weary soul, had been the same look he had seen in every warmonger he had encountered previous. Harry Potter might not think he wanted war and bloodshed, but kindred spirits cried out to one another. The boy would never be happy living a civilian life. That much Alucard knew.

Silently he slinked back into the shadows and melded into them. He traveled within the darkness of the spaces in the walls and found himself in the man's room. He waited patiently in the shadows for him to return. His scent and Walter's was already evident. They were in the basement looking after the prisoners currently, but Alucard knew that Harry would return to the room immediately after. Sure enough, several minutes later the door opened and the man entered alone. Alucard could sense Walter down the hallway, nearing Integra's office. He watched from his concealed position as the man collapsed on the bed. He looked washed-out, but did not fall asleep immediately as expected. Concentrating, the vampire barely suppressed a chuckle at the thoughts he was able to pick up. Yes, this would be very interesting.

He stayed even long after the boy had fallen asleep. Harry's dreams were positively fascinating. In his vulnerable state his mental shields slipped, allowing Alucard to see into his nightmares. For that was exactly what they were. Dream-memories of past battles. He watched in anticipation as the dream played out before his own eyes. He was a part of it, yet separate from the flow of events that unfolded.

'Harry silently gestured to fifteen others crouched in bushes outside of a cave. Dark figures could be seen standing guard just outside its mouth. Harry appeared younger in the dream than he was in reality. Two of his team detached, melting into the shadows flawlessly as they sneaked forward and disposed of the men with whispered words and bursts of green light from their wands. As one, the rest followed the two into the cave. They walked in complete silence for several minutes before coming to a junction.

Harry paused and carefully unfolded a map, consulting it briefly he motioned to the right hand path before stowing the waterproof paper in his pocket. They moved on, systematically disposing of any who crossed their path. They came upon a great council chamber, which looked more like a constructed dungeon than a cavern. A great throne sat at the center, raised on a dais. On it sat a beast with white, scaled skin and red slated eyes. Surrounding him in a sea of black were hundreds of kneeling figures, all bowing towards the thing sitting on the throne. Alucard sneered at it from his location in the shadows. Dream-Harry mimicked him, baring his teeth in a silent snarl.

The infiltrators kept to the darkness at the edge of the torches lighting the room. They spread out evenly and dug in their vest pockets, bringing out cubes of C4 and placing them on the walls of the chamber. All was well and they were beginning a retreat, when the man on the dais suddenly stood, looking directly at Harry. A chilling laugh escaped him as he pointed and ordered his men to seize the intruders.

++Dreamchange++

Harry was chained to the wall of a natural cavern. Bruised and slowly bleeding out, he had obviously undergone thorough torture. Light slowly invaded the pitch black of the room, causing him to hiss and wince, pulling against the shackles. Three figures entered, dragging a fourth between them. It was one of Harry's comrades from the first half of the dream. They jeered and laughed behind their masks, one of them striding forward and punching Harry over an open wound on his stomach. The man groaned but allowed no other sound to escape him despite the agony. It seemed to displease the man, as he growled and stalked back to the limp figure on the floor. He dragged it up and pulled back the hood, revealing a frizzy-haired brunette woman. Harry's subconscious provided Alucard a name: Hermione.

Harry struggled even harder against his restraints, growling savagely and spitting out oaths as the men revived her. They laughed and taunted them both, kicking the woman and beating her until she cried out and begged for mercy. His wrists were bleeding anew from his fierce struggle against the chains. His eyes widened and grew dark with rage as the men circled the woman and began tearing at her clothing. Alucard was overcome with annoyance as he was forced to watch them rape the woman. It was only a dream, neither man could do anything. Once finished with the broken shell of a woman, one of the men forced her head up, her sightless eyes staring at Harry as her throat was slit. They left the naked corpse in the room with the distraught prisoner.

++Dreamchange++

The scene changed to a small stone chamber. Torches flickered long shadows across the floor, creating deep pockets of darkness. Alucard stood in one such place as he gazed at the center of the room. A raised stone table was the only adornment in the drab place, outside of curious circles of runes on the floor, which the vampire inferred were for binding of a sort. A startling splash of color cut the gloom. Pink flesh, crimson blood, white bone, all exposed to the bitter chill of the dungeon.

Harry was chained down with rusted manacles, clothing in tatters and doing nothing to shield his skin. A masked figure stood over him with a dagger in hand. Blood stained him head to toe, but the black of his robes hid it well. As Alucard watched, the man stooped over Harry and plunged the knife ruthlessly into the flesh of his upper thigh. The man on the table let out an agonized sob and hoarse scream as the dagger was ripped upward and inward, perilously close to his genitals.

The vampire knew that no human could survive a wound like that. Like any of the wounds the boy had obviously sustained. From the look of several of the cuts, many major arteries had already been severed. Why then, was Harry still alive? He watched as the man briefly dropped the knife to pick up a long stick from the table between Harry's spread thighs. With a muttered word and a pattern in the air, all the damage seemed to reverse itself. Every bit of exposed flesh mended back together, blood pulling back into the body, bones snapping back into place. By the time it was finished, not even scars remained.

The experience must have been a painful one, from the sudden jerk and scream the prisoner gave. The sight sickened even Alucard despite the stirring of amusement he felt at the ingenious methods being employed. The Nosferatu certainly enjoyed torturing his prey before consuming it, but those he hunted were always given a chance to defend themselves before they were killed. This was an act of pure cowardice. He itched to reach out and teach this dog what a monster could do. Getting the stirrings of bloodlust under control, Alucard turned his attention back to the scene as another cry ripped through the chamber.

The masked man had begun his tortures anew. He now held the knife in one hand and a pair of crocodile-shears in the other. He was currently slicing viciously at Harry's inner thighs, stripping the flesh clear from the muscle in some spots with efficient strokes. After a few seconds he paused and sat the knife down once again, before gripping the end of an attached flap of skin. He cruelly tugged it while watching Harry's face intently, obviously wanting a reaction. Receiving none, he slowly but steadily ripped up the patch of flesh, aided by the previous cuts and mutilations.

When all it produced was a ragged gasp and reflexive twitch, the torturer growled and stalked to the head of the table. He brutally backhanded Harry with the fist that held the shears and ordered the man to open his eyes. When the command was refused, the man dangled the strip of flesh over Harry's face and took advantage of his ragged gasping. He forced the meat past tightly clenched teeth and effortlessly held Harry's jaw shut. A spasm wracked through the bound wizard's frame and green eyes flew open in wild horror.

That seemed to satisfy the man momentarily, as he released his hold and made his way down the table, letting the shears drag along the stone, producing an ominous grinding sound. Wasting no time, the man picked the wand back up and waved it over the crocodile-shears. The ends of the savage looking tongs immediately glowed hot, producing sizzling and high pitched ringing sounds as the iron adjusted to the change in temperature. The handles did not seem affected by the spell, as the man gripped it effectively and almost absently trailed the ends up Harry's thigh towards his penis.

Cruelly, the man ignored his captive's renewed struggles and frantic screams as he opened the eight inch cylindrical jaws wide, revealing several rows of heated, razor sharp spikes. At first he only allowed minute pressure, letting Harry get a feel for what awaited him in the next few moments. Then, without warning, he used both hands to exert maximum pressure on the grips.

Harry never passed out.

++Dreamchange++

Harry was dragged into the main council chamber. His naked and bloody body dragged between two of the masked men. The serpent-man sat on his throne looking pleased. Several fresh bodies littered the dais, all easily recognized from Harry's squad. The man got to his feet as Harry was dropped to the harsh floor and kicked by the two holding him. The red-eyed man stepped forward and kneeled, caressing Harry's face with mock tenderness. The boy reared back and bit deep into the flesh of the hand, earning him a slap and several kicks. It pleased Alucard. It proved to him what manner of man Harry was. That he was surrounded by the corpses or his brethren, surrounded by his enemies on all sides, defeated, yet rejected it, pleased the vampire very much and reinforced his initial impression of the man. It was all too obvious what type of torture Harry had been subjected to in this memory, from the blood staining the backs of his thighs and buttock.

The serpent-man gave a speech to his followers. It was obvious he thought that he had won whatever war was being fought. His overconfidence proved to be his downfall, as he failed to notice two of his followers inching towards the dais. As one, they leaped forward and dove for Harry. The second their skin made contact with his, they disappeared with a popping sound. The setting changed as they disappeared, dragging Alucard with them. Blackness filled his vision briefly before the next scene became apparent.

++Dreamchange++

Harry looked older this time. Once again he was in a dungeon setting, yet this one appeared friendlier. The man sat at ease before a roaring fire, surrounded by fellow soldiers and children. The vampire looked around with interest. Some of the children and adults were drinking from cans of cheap beer, while others were smoking. It provoked a wave of fond nostalgia in Alucard, as briefly his mind recalled similar scenes during World War II. He turned his attention back on his objective and watched as Harry too lit up a cigarette while nursing a can. He looked battered and filthy, a rifle rested near his chair propped within easy reach against a side table. He had just gotten back from the battlefront.

A red-headed man with long hair and a fang earring was sitting next to him on the floor. They were speaking too quietly for Alucard to hear. The red-head also looked battle worn. They all looked up in alarm as an air raid siren sounded loudly. There was no panic as they all calmly withdrew long sticks from their pockets and uttered words in latin. A purple shield flashed to life, encompassing everyone within the bunker. A shudder wracked through the foundations but only puffs of dirt fell from the ceiling to indicate that a bomb had hit nearby. This was obviously a normal occurrence. Attention focused curiously on the shield, Alucard listened attentively as Harry spoke up for the first time during his dreams.

“They're dropping them closer and closer every time. Hannah, any word on negotiations? We can't hold out much longer if the Americans can't reach an agreement on our behalf!”

A blonde woman moved cautiously forward, keeping her wand pointed towards the ceiling so as not to break her shield. She looked concerned but not overly so. A scar across her right cheek showed that like everyone from this world, she had seen combat. She was dressed in civilian clothing but wore a pistol holstered openly at her hip. She addressed Harry with familiarity and respect. All of this was quite intriguing to Alucard.

“No word yet. Last I heard from Susan Bones, the Americans were trying to encourage the French and British muggle governments to agree to a cease of hostilities where our civilians are concerned. The American White Council was pressing to have their borders opened to refugees from Hogwarts, but the muggle president was unwilling, given the difficulty in ascertaining who is Death Eater and who is not. They didn't wish to bring the battle into their own borders. The cowards.”

Harry grimaced and nodded, spitting in to the fire in a show of contempt. They all tensed and turned as one as a section of wall opened on the far side of the room. In stepped a woman with fiery red hair. She was obviously related to the man sitting near Harry. She was covered in ash and soot, open wounds bleeding across her face and arms. Her hazel eyes held no emotion as she hurried over and sat in the red-haired man's lap.

“Ginny, what's happening?”

“Hogsmeade was wiped off the map. Along with the northern encampment. A missile hit the east tower and it collapsed. Voldemort obviously planted information on Hogwarts' location for the muggles to find.” Face blank, she glanced between Harry and the man under her, as well as another red-head previously unnoticed in one corner.

“Ron, Fred and George, Mum and Dad, and Mad-Eye are dead. They were wiped out when the tower fell, along with nearly a quarter of our forces in the northern camp.”

The news caused cries of sadness to echo through the room. However the group near the fire remained unmoved. A flash of something showed across Harry's face, however it was suppressed under an inscrutable mask. Being able to sense his emotions through the dream, Alucard was overwhelmed by feelings of deep pain and rage. The names of the dead were obviously of people he cared for, yet he and the red-heads showed no outward turmoil.

++Dreamchange++

A red sky painted the background. Blackened earth spanned in all directions in a barren wasteland. Silhouetted against the darkness, a crumbling castle sat on a cliff overlooking a lake of crimson. The few intact ramparts of the fortress were littered with skeletons, some impaled on spikes, others hanging over the sides, chains around their necks. The great doors hung limp and broken on the hinges, splintered and useless. The grounds harbored bunt husks of tents, while mutilated bodies littered the paths. The stench of bloated flesh overwhelmed the air. In the distance, a once great forest burned with green flames, choking the wind with acrid fumes, black smoke blotting out the sun.

Alucard looked around in wicked pleasure at the destruction surrounding him. Something told him that this was not a normal dream. He could not see Harry, not at first. Should this have been a normal sequence of dream-memories, he would have been whisked immediately to Harry's side, seeing as how it was the man who was the focus of the images. Reaching out his senses, Harry's own mind provided him with the information he sought. This was a vision of how things would have played out had the man not fled to Alucard's world. He found the revelation fascinating. Integra had not believed the man to be telling the truth about their origins, yet here was untainted proof. Truthfully, Alucard had been skeptical as well.

Heavy footsteps approached the vampire from behind, causing him to whirl around in startlement. There stood the object of his observations. The man looked the same as he did in the waking world, though his clothing was changed and there were streaks of gray in his ragged black hair. Stubble grew along his jaw, and darkness shadowed his vibrant jade eyes, giving them the appearance of being dead. He wore white robes, though these were battle worn. Singed and caked with blood, the original pure coloring made the blemishes and stains stand out starkly. Wounds oozed sluggishly across his body, though most of the blood belonged to others. The only weapon evident was a dagger clutched in a fist at his side. Alucard immediately made the connection between the knife and the shredded bodies surrounding them.

To his shock, Harry's gaze was directed solely on Alucard. Intelligence and acknowledgment glittered there. The vampire grew wary. The man should not have been aware of his presence in his mind. Harry drew to a stop at his side, still staring. Silence prevailed for several moments as they sized each other up.

“I have sensed you here since I fell asleep. Yet only now have had the strength to manifest as lucid within the dreams.” He cocked his head to the side, eyes never wavering. “My shields fell, but I am never unaware of my surroundings, or of my own mind. To do so meant death in my world. You are not the first to try entering my dreams. What did you hope to gain in doing so?”

“My Master ordered me to keep an eye on you. Peering into your dreams was simply a result. Though I confess personal curiosity in regards to you and what I've witnessed here.”

The battle worn man shrugged and gazed around at the carnage. Several tense seconds passed before he deigned to answer. He swept his arm out, gesturing to encompass their surroundings. “This is what would have been. What has happened? The only thing that has changed is that I did not let the darkness claim me and spur me to massacre my own troops. The muggles dropped bombs on our encampments shortly after we fled to this world, and all wizards will be slaughtered to extinction. The only course of action was to save myself and the few people I trust.... Might I have your name, vampire, since you know mine?”

“I have many names. But you can call me Alucard.”

Harry nodded slowly, shooting Alucard a pensive look. They eyed each other for a moment before the vampire slowly withdrew from the human's mind. Before he exited completely, whispered words caused him to grin. He was really beginning to like this human.

“If I find you in my mind again, I will send you to Hell in a hand basket, you bloody mutt.”
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Last Stand