Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

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
- 4
- 5
~^Last Stand 5~^

Against all odds, consciousness tugged him from the black. He felt as if he had an entire sheep wedged on his tongue, while his head pounded dissent. Cracking an eye experimentally, Harry groaned and attempted to roll over, only to be hindered by an insistent pain in his leg. Hissing quietly, he bemoaned his fate in an internal monologue of curses and lamentations. Death would have been kinder compared to this hell! A quiet noise made him tense up, jerking away from a sudden touch to his arm.

“Calm down, Potter. You’ll tear open the stitching.” The cultured tones set him at ease, and he settled down almost at once. Lucius was not one to go against when he had his mind set on a goal. Attempting to open his eyes again had better results, as someone had dimmed the light. The aristocrat stood by his bedside, wand out and pointed threateningly as if still contemplating a hex. The sight was a welcome one and Harry managed the strength to smile.

“Not even here two days and already you almost die. I’m beginning to think you’re cursed.”

“You and me both.” His voice came out a hoarse whisper. A glass of water was offered. Gulping down the liquid, some of the pain slowly disappeared. Silence reined for several moments as he took stock of his wounds. Flexing his hand caused a slight twinge, however it was residual more than anything. His thigh and shoulder ached in a constant throb, however the lesser wounds he had sustained were nonexistent. The deeper lacerations had obviously been too much for magic alone. He was satisfied none the less.

“Where are the others?” Lucius spared a glance over his shoulder, before shrugging. “Severus was escorted back to the cells, but they required someone to keep an eye on your status. Sir Integra has already expressed that she would be comfortable allowing us to go free in a couple of days.”

Harry could not hide his surprise. Integra struck him as someone who preferred not to put her men at risk unnecessarily. He doubted that his lacking contribution in Northern Ireland counted for much in the grand scheme of things. A few ghouls were dead because of him, but he knew most commanders would see his lacking contribution to Anderson’s demise as suspect. The thought depressed him. As if sensing the turn in mood, Lucius cocked his head to the side.

“I’ll go see to having some food brought up. I was informed that you have not been eating again….” A hint of threat colored his tone, causing Harry to look steadfastly at his knees. Come to think of it, he really had not eaten since he got back from the mission three days ago. Or longer, he contemplated how long he had been asleep. He spared a nod to Lucius before the patriarch made his exit. Several minutes passed within his own thoughts, broken only by the sound of someone pausing outside the door. Glancing up expectantly, he was surprised to see not Lucius, but Integra herself carrying in a service tray.

Despite the menial task she projected a commanding aura as she made her way over and set the platter across his knee. They stared at each other for several seconds before the scent of cooked meat wafted under his nose. Unable to resist, he pulled the lid off and dug in with few manners. He would have scooped the steak up with his bare hands if the Hellsing head were not present. She tolerated being ignored until half of the plate was gone.

“You did well, Mr. Potter. Given the circumstances I must consider your mission a success.” The praise gave him pause, unable to hide a flash of annoyed rejection. She raised an eyebrow at that. “No one knew of Anderson’s presence. Nor could we have imagined that the Vatican would stoop to such levels as using one of the very things they claim to revile.”

Seeing his continued skepticism, she heaved a sigh. Examining her expression closer, he realized that she looked as tired as he felt. “Anderson is subhuman- Genetically engineered to be an unstoppable machine. Not even Alucard could bring him down.”

Having the suspicion confirmed only served to make him feel worse. If he had the forethought to take his wand, the priest may not have escaped with his life. Scrutinizing his own feelings, he suspected it was being helpless that made him feel so inclined towards self-loathing at the moment. The nagging offset to the mania was not aiding his inner thoughts. Integra stared him down for a moment, before he finally spoke up.

“Lucius said you’re letting them go?” The question made her smirk.

“Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not without mercy, Mr. Potter. It has become clear to me that you and your men are not here to interfere. Nor do I believe they would pose a threat to the citizens of England. Your men will be confined to the manor for three weeks as they are schooled on our culture. But then they will be given the option to leave.”

The wording was suspect, as he processed it. “Them. But not me?” She peered at him over the rim of her glasses. “You are an entirely different matter. The upset you caused yesterday morning did not go unnoticed. My personal physician will examine you, and you will be required to stabilize mentally before you are allowed to leave.”

The news was received rather well, all things considered. He had almost expected it, but it did not stop the sensation like a bucket of ice water down his spine. His face must have reflected some of the disappointment. She removed her cigar case from the breast pocket of her shirt, before offering him his cigarettes from the night stand. He welcomed the gesture if nothing else, as he waited patiently for her to pass her silver zippo over. Alucard had indeed pilfered it from her.

“Do not think that you are being singled out. Your men will be evaluated as well throughout the course of this coming week. I have a great deal more to do that does not involve the paperwork of covering for you if you were to change shape in the street, or have a psychotic episode. Until you can better control your impulses, I would be remiss in allowing you to roam free.”

A quiet sigh escaped, before he concentrated on drawing the acrid smoke into his lungs. He should have expected this. No sane human would let him wander off of his own accord while he was like this. Dumbledore had never cared if his dementia cost lives, so long as he kept fighting. The thought prompted him to at last voice his fears, “… Will I be required to fight for you?”

She blinked, as if not having thought of that. He watched her carefully as she seemed to debate. There was no doubt that the idea was highly tempting. If he were in her shoes, he would want to keep every power at his disposal. The turmoil showed in her tense frame, although he was pleasantly surprised with her as she at last came to a decision.

“You will not be required to accompany missions. However, you will be required to aid the manor in the event of an attack.” Mulling it over, he nodded slowly. The terms seemed acceptable. He even felt slightly bad for her, having to consider his personal wants above her organization’s needs. That he was being given a choice at least eased the pit hollowing his belly. In all likelihood he would still go on missions. It was the option to refuse that set his mind at ease.

Integra appeared a touch awkward with the silence. “Your men will be released in the morning, after they have been briefed on the condition of their stay. You, on the other hand, are confined to bed rest until those wounds heal.” With that, she turned to leave. Harry was fine with the lack of formality, as it left him to consider his current options. There were not many choices, as he was certain she would send Alucard after him if he tried to escape. Having contingency plans simply appealed to his sense of self preservation.

Letting out another sigh, he scrubbed a hand through his hair. The action gave him pause to grimace. He needed a shower. While the area surrounding his wounds had been cleaned, everywhere else still contained dirt and traces of dried blood. Considering for a moment, he tossed the blankets all the way off and carefully maneuvered to stand. His thigh buckled at the weight, but held fast with willpower. Getting to the wash closet was a feat of strength, but he managed well enough with only a couple of stumbles.

Turning on the water, he panted, lightly sitting on the edge of the old fashioned tub. A bath would have to do, as he could not foresee himself lasting long standing up. Wrestling off his boxers, he nearly overbalanced. Letting out a hiss, he turned the inelegant action into a more deliberate move to slide into the near scalding water. It felt blessedly fine against aching muscles. How long had it been since he had the luxury of an honest to god bath? The answer evaded him as he leaned back, sliding down until just the tip of his nose stuck out from the water. He could vaguely recall a time in his fifth year, sneaking into the prefect’s bathroom. That was the last time, outside of dips in the lake. It boggled the mind.

Sitting up to grab one of the fancy crystal vials from the tray, he startled violently at discovering he was no longer alone. A wicked grin in place, Alucard lounged on the lip of the tub, vessel of soap offered temptingly dangled between his fingers. Harry scowled, snatching the bottle from him and upending half the contents into the water. The suds built up steadily along with the level of the water. Bubble baths were a rare guilty pleasure ever since fourth year in the prefect bathroom.

“What d’ya want?” His voice was muffled by a curtain of hair as he leaned forward to thoroughly wet the strands. The vampire was silent for several long moments, observing him quietly and taking in his web work of scars. Harry tolerated the attention, but after a while he became uncomfortable. “They only healed what would kill me.” He shifted his weight, trying to subtly shift the suds to cover his genitals. He knew Alucard was remembering his dreams as he looked over the old wounds. The move did not go unnoticed and the vampire gained a strange look.

“How old were you?” The question confused Harry, until he glanced at his lap. Even the distortions in the water could not hide the gruesome looking scars along the inside of his thighs. Thankfully his penis remained obscured. Drawing in a shaky breath, he shrugged, fitting on a mask of indifference. He had hoped to never have this conversation with anyone, much less a vampire. “Sixteen. They murdered Hermione when I was eighteen and stole what innocence I had left shortly after. They were hoping to… persuade me to join their side, the first time.”

The news provoked silence as Alucard seemed to drift in thought. Harry took the opportunity to finish scrubbing the grime from his hair. His scars were not a topic he generally discussed with anyone, not even his closest friends. Severus and Lucius were the only ones to even know of the rape; the torture at sixteen remained elusive, since the death eaters had been kind enough to release him after healing him up. The chance was to give him time to “think” about their offer. He figured the vampire deserved an explanation after witnessing some of it firsthand.

The silence grew stifling, to where Harry darted a glance at the being to make sure he was still there. Sometime during the lapse, the crimson coat had disappeared, leaving him in an old fashioned black suit. He still looked deep in thought, gaze fixed at some invisible point on the wall. Tiring of the attention, Harry gathered a mix of suds and water into the palm of his hand, and flung it at the vampire. The action garnered a surprised twitch, and crimson eyes widened as he peered down at the wet stains marring the otherwise impeccable suit. Harry smirked, letting himself slide back down until the lower half of his face was submerged. The action was childish, but he took delight in Alucard’s bemusement.

“Once upon a time, I would have had you drowned in a vat of your relatives blood for that.” Harry sat up just enough to avoid a mouthful of water, shrugging. “You only live once, or so I’ve been told.” The words were hollow to his own ears, prompting him to frown. Had he ever truly lived before? Enslaved to his relatives, then enslaved to the war. Could a slave have a life beyond what their master wished? Yes! He impulsively wished it to be true. But even in his disjointed reasoning, he knew the notion to be false. A slave had no will or intention beyond a master’s direction. Anything construed as “living” was allowed or smothered at a master’s discretion.

An inappropriate giggle was smothered before it could even think to escape. Harry had been a slave, once upon a time. Did that make him the hero who broke free in an honorable last-ditch effort, or was he the prince who ordered his own subjects slain out of paranoid delusions of assassination? Lost in the inner debate, he missed Alucard’s movement until the drain was unstopped and the water quickly retreated. Jumping in surprise, he let out a curse as he knocked his shoulder against the edge. The vampire looked smug, but the expression was curiously toned down as he offered a towel from the rack.

“We wouldn’t want you being out of bed for long, or Integra would have fits at you disobeying an order.”

Nodding reluctantly, he attempted to lever himself up, only to have his knee refuse to hold his weight, shoulder likewise protesting the move with an uncertain buckle and shot of pain. Hissing, he clenched his jaw, fingers digging into the edge of the tub at what he perceived as weakness. The vampire simply shook his head and draped the towel around Harry’s shoulders, before leaning down to grip under his arms.

“Oi-!” So this must be what a cat feels like when it gets scruffed. Harry was not pleased, but his fighting instincts were stifled by his body’s protests that it could not function as intended at the moment. Alucard hoisted him from the tub with ease, lowering him to his feet. It took a moment to catch his balance and even then his leg buckled when he attempted to shift his weight. Alucard kept a firm grip on his upper arm, glancing down with a strange expression. Following his gaze, Harry averted his eyes in shame.

What amounted to months of torture was laid bare for the vampire to see, but the specific area he had not wanted anyone to know about was difficult to ignore in its half-perked state. The scars were easily overlooked under normal circumstances. One could even assume that the distortions in color were natural, unless the skin was stretched taut. Crocodile sheers had been but one method employed by the death eaters during their sports. Fire, blades… Bella had even tried a curse meant to turn it inside-out. Most of the damage had been repaired to keep him from dying, but even magic had its limitations in stopping scars from forming if a wound were bad enough. Quite honestly Harry viewed it as a miracle that he could still physically function.

“Loss of innocence is voluntary. What happened to you was far from it.” Harry’s brows furrowed as the vampire spoke. The being was the last he would have expected to attempt to lend any type of comfort. Although, judging by his actions thus far, the veteran almost suspected Alucard of actively wanting a new underling. The thought of being bound to yet another master nearly made him want to cry, but he ignored it with a forceful shrug, wavering a bit at dislodging the vampire's grip, but managing to finally stand on his own. Pulling the towel from his shoulders, he set to work drying himself off, trying to hide his expression while avoiding giving an answer. After several moments he tossed the towel aside and made his way back into the bedroom, lumbering shuffle further betraying his feebleness. At realizing Alucard was following him, he let out a tired sigh, grasping to recall the topic.

“Even if that were the case, it remains true. I gave up on childish idealisms and notions of 'purity' the moment I realized I could never break away from the chains of war.” There was far more bitterness in his voice than he would have liked. Not that it mattered. The vampire had already seen weakness from him, what was one more. A domino had been toppled somewhere down the line of their discussion, and he now felt the crushing weight as his metaphoric shields fell one by one in a line. It was dangerous but he could not bring himself to care, given the current situation. He was confident that the vampire would get bored soon.

As if sensing the thought, Alucard draped himself lazily over the foot of Harry’s bed, lounging with no intent of budging any time soon. The conversation was proving far too amusing for him to abandon it now. The wizard pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, concentrating on getting back into bed without falling over. Physical exertion and mental upset left him feeling exhausted, and it was quite easy to ignore the No-Life-King. Not even the wisps of power tracing slowly up his legs could keep him from dozing off shortly after getting situated, leaving Alucard to frown in disappointment while molesting the sleeping soldier with his shadows.
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Last Stand