Slayer Anderson

Arcane Systems

A Harry Potter/Hellsing Fanfiction


Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing or Harry Potter. If you don't recognize it, then its an original idea and therefore my intellectual property.

*Note: The Harry Potter storyline has been advanced by ten years. In other words, Harry was born in 1990. This is to accommodate the plot.

Summary:If you don't like cliches, this story isn't for you. GeniusHarry/SuperHarry/DarkHarry/EvilHarry. Rated for Murder, Drug use, Sexual themes, and Harsh Language.

Hellsing Compound: June 2005

"You look like you're contemplating murder again."

"I'm an unspeakably dangerous Dark Wizard with a talent for languages, mathematics, and applied sciences. Contemplating murder is part of my natural state of being."

The perky blonde vampire looked askance for a moment. For a child younger than herself, Harry was awfully sarcastic. At least, she hoped he was being sarcastic.

"So you're usually staring at dusty old books in the dungeon of an old manor when the sun's bright and shining outside?" Seras asked somewhat enviously. If she could, she would love to enjoy the bright daylight again. It would be another century or so before she could take such direct exposure, though, and she couldn't believe Harry was willingly passing up such opportunities.

"I enjoy looking at computer screens, performing rituals, and killing people. To do all of these I must translate enormous amounts of spells from various ancient languages into modern English. Hence the dusty books." Harry explained patiently, making a series of notes on the tablet PC resting next to the book.

Seras sighed. Harry had always been a strange child, but was far more approachable than her master or Sir Integra, and was her main company besides Walter. He seemed to do very little other than research, study, and play a selection of musical instruments. For the two years she had been a resident of the Hellsing compound, Harry had had no friends other than a few of the soldiers, never been to school, and very seldom ventured outside.

He much preferred the recently remodeled Dark Arts Laboratory where he kept a cot and the few modern amenities that he deemed indispensable.

One such set of appliances was the glut of computers and electrical equipment that took up one wall of the room. There were devices that bore only passing resemblance to publicly available hardware, and Seras had seen how effectively Harry used them in the past. Purportedly, he had hacked into several of the military servers that supplied the 'black' agencies of the government.

Another wall bore ancient oaken bookcases laden with books, some new, some older than even Alucard. Recently, many more scrolls, books, and even a few tapestries had been added to the library under Harry's supervision. Another, newer section bore the technical manuals for biomedical equipment, computer programming and assembly, and chemistry textbooks. Above that bookcase were the Doctorates that Harry held in those fields.

There was a table in the center of the room which bore machining tools and boring and shaping equipment for the guns and bullets Harry designed. While Walter still held the honor of procuring specialty firearms for Hellsing, Harry's magic necessitated building his own from scratch.

Finally, relegated to one of the two remaining corners of the room was the combination chemistry/potions lab that continuously churned out things Seras felt she was better off not knowing about.

The only other thing in the room was a small cot that served as the dark wizard's bed and a few odds and ends scattered about the room, like the calligraphy set lying under the aforementioned cot. That and the stacks of Japanese or Chinese occult manuals randomly placed around the room were the only hints that Harry did anything other than work all day long.


The young man paused in his note-taking and looked at Seras expectantly.

"Why do you work for Hellsing?"

The wizard raised an eyebrow, then snorted slightly. "I don't work for Integra, though she does pay me to keep appearances. I, much like you and your master, and a servant of the Hellsing Organization, bound and shackled."

The young vampire stared, somewhat open-mouthed at the boy as he confessed to being little more than a slave. "Why would Sir Integra…"

Harry shifted in his seat and set one ankle on his knee, displaying a shackle with strange sigils lining it. "This marks me as the property of this noble and ancient house," Harry stated with derision, "It is a physical manifestation of a magical, multigenerational geas."

Seras blinked and touched the metal hesitantly. It was warm, but not uncomfortably hot. There was no latch or keyhole, nor any real way to remove it.

"Multigenerational?" Seras asked.

Harry grinned darkly. "I've attached myself to the Hellsing family line, like Alucard, and will remain as long as the family does. I will stop aging very soon, and never die of natural causes. Disease and depravations will not touch me. If you ask me, selling my soul was the easiest decision I've ever made."

Seras stared.

It was times like this that Harry scared the vampire just a bit. When she came face to face with the fact that the boy was utterly without morals, she sometimes wondered what he was capable of.

To give up your free will to live forever…

"Ah, Master Harry, I'm sorry to interrupt, but Sir Integra requests your presence."

Seras jumped a bit, starting at Walter's sudden appearance.

Harry merely nodded.

"We've received word of unrest in the magical community. It seems that, though the government is trying to deny it, the cult following your parents murderer has begun agitating again. Several non-magical families have already been murdered, which is an act of terrorism we cannot ignore. We do not currently have intelligence on whether their former leader has returned, but seeing as you have a somewhat…unique connection with him, you have invaluable knowledge of their operational tactics and strategy."

Integra paused, giving Harry a moment to take in the information.

The green eyed boy nodded solemnly, still standing at attention.

"For the remainder of their activities, you will serve as an independent law enforcement agent and be given equal privileges. It is very unusual to allow a Hellsing operative, especially one with your qualifications, to perform duties in the Wizarding World; as such, you will be on your best behavior whenever on official business."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Sir, if I understand it correctly, you are ordering me to…"

"Do your job, soldier." Integra growled. "You are to act in the best interests of the citizens of the United Kingdom. To do otherwise would be to fail in your duty as an agent of the Hellsing Organization."

"Is the current incarnation of the Knights of Walpurgis using undead?" Harry asked suddenly.

Sir Integra nodded. "That was originally why we were asked by the Queen to intercede. There have been infrequent reports of some vampire covens and werewolf packs mobilizing. Also, the use of magically created ghouls, known commonly as Inferi, has been confirmed. Miss Victoria is currently working detached from her unit and will be able to assist you should you require it. Otherwise, none of our personal are properly briefed to operate in the magical world."

"You have your orders. Search and Destroy."

Harry snapped a crisp salute. "Yes Sir."


After the door shut, Integra allowed herself a small smile. Lighting a cigar, she relaxed slightly. Harry, though a complete sociopath with a bloodlust rivaling Alucard and homicidal tendencies, was the ideal subordinate. He obeyed orders to the letter, read subtleties with ease, and possessed a strong moral compass.

Not to mention a unique ability to completely ignore that same compass.

He utilized minimal funding, having his own family accounts to draw from, and had earned a triple doctorate at the age of twelve. In addition to majoring in Chemistry, Biotechnology, and Theoretical Physics, he also had a triple minor in Demonology, Religion, and History as well as a guild certification as a gunsmith. Only a year ago he had been approved as an Onmyoji. In other words, the boy was an incredibly gifted genius of unbelievable proportions.

With a resume like that, she could easily ignore the voice he purportedly heard in his head.

She spied a writhing shadow in the corner of her eye and sighed. Now to deal with her other solo operative…

We've been expecting this for a while now.

Yes, Harry thought in reply as he descended to his room. Lord Voldemort has returned and will doubtlessly be trying to reassert claim over the Wizarding World.

I would estimate that you are proficient enough in the necessary skills to take up to six of my former Inner Circle at the same time. At least, if you were to have a level playing field.

Harry smiled demonically. Yeah, right. All of those idiot wizards seem to think a duel is the utmost extent of magical combat. Or combat at all, really. A person killed in a duel is just as dead as someone you shoot in the back of the head.

While that is an admirable philosophy, you preoccupation with muggle methods is detestable. I would much prefer you use magic.

We've been over this, Harry growled. My magic is of a very noticeable type. Using guns allows magicals to underestimate me as a mere muggle. Using spells against non-magicals is strictly prohibited by the International Statue of Secrecy. Even I'm not to the point where I would willingly cause an incident like that.

Say what you like, you will be unable to refrain from using magic against my former servants.

I know.

Harry stared at his right hand. He would be required to kill a great many people very soon. The smile on his face widened substantially at the realization. The leather glove strained as something bulged from underneath.

Now, Harry thought, If you were leading the Death Eaters, what would you be targeting.

With the recent destabilization in the government, I'd try to eliminate any competent law enforcement individuals or prospective replacements for the recently deposed minister.

Harry paused at the door to his room.


Harry stepped out under the Bone's family wards with a pistol drawn in his left hand. He had targeted a spot on back lawn from a fifteenth century map before the estate had been rendered unplottable. The family manor had an old growth forest that he had been relatively sure they wouldn't have deforested.

It had seemed like the ideal location to try to infiltrate from.

He only wished he remembered that Death Eaters typically used werewolves to guard back entrances.

Five minutes later a quarter of his silver bullets were gone and a full dozen werewolves were laying dead on the ground. Harry grinned slightly and kissed the suppressor even as it burned his lips. That was why he loved .22s. No stopping power, and hardly any penetrating power, but they tended to rebound inside the flesh, doing massive internal damage.

That and they could actually be suppressed, unlike those monster guns Alucard used.

His bio-tats pulsed and highlighted the inked designs wrapped themselves around his eyes, the world brightening into red-shifted colors layered with infrared. He concentrated and his vision faded to the faint blue tint of the ocular aurum. Another magazine slammed home and Harry started moving.

After all, the werewolves could only mean his hunch was right.

"The old Bitch and the girl are hiding."

"Have they left the manor?"

"Of course not. The werewolves would have gone crazy if they got a piece of meat. They're either in the west wing or the basement."

"Do we have anyone guarding the front?"

"Crabbe and Goyle, as usual. Probably standing around getting drunk."

"That means we have five in the house?"

"Idiot, that's ten in the house, can't you even count?"

The noise of metal sliding into flesh was soft and punctuated by a short, startled cry. "Yeah, but that's for the lesson in numbers anyway."

Harry licked his lips and jammed the fingers of his right hand through the Death Eater's neck, severing his voice box before he could yell. As blood coated his hand, the red ichor began to seep into his skin, inflating wood-like veins.

As thorn-like claws began to erupt the tips of his fingers, Harry giggled, his mouth contorting into something vaguely inhuman. "One down, eleven to go."

The young wizard paused for a moment, considering the darkened halls around him. Wisps of phantom-blue fog emanated from various object, indicating enchantments, whereas the body was slowly losing its own glow. There was something…

He spun, already aiming his pistol and drew a bead on the Death Eater's head. Two curses flew by, both yellow cutting hexes, as he put two shots into his opponent's head. The tell-tale flare of a projectile charm sparked for a moment before dying.

Harry was surprised any of the Death Eaters had even bothered with the charm, seeing as they were attacking a witch's home. It was originally designed to protect from arrows, but had long been modified to shield against bullets also…

Well, at least regular bullets.


In his blue tinted vision, Harry spied two more Death Eaters patrolling near what was probably a bedroom. Disregarding caution, he merely walked up to the door of the room and sub-vocalized two killing curses. The green light caught them both off guard, leaving their corpses to cool at his feet.


He was getting closer to where they had the two women cornered. His mouth twitched and he tucked the pistol away. It would be close-quarters from here on out.

"Hey, who the Bloody Hell are you?!"

He didn't even bother with the knife this time, using the thorn-claws on his right hand to tear the man's stomach open, rejoicing as he screamed. The sound was intoxicating, something of a pure, sweet horror that only came from a dying man. Viciously snapping the man's neck, he let the sack of meat drop.

There was the sound of men running now. With any luck, the rest of the prey would come to him. How many were there left? Ah, Seven. Only seven…aw well, he could draw the last one out a little…

Amelia Bones was not a woman who frightened easily. She had been on the front lines of Voldemort's first rise and seen things she never wanted to see. Even as the Death Eaters had assaulted her property, she had not cowered like so many would have.

Instead, she had dragged her niece into the cellar, where the bastards would hopefully pass them by. Until ten minutes ago, she was certain that she and Susan were going to die here. Die horribly, slowly, and painfully…

And then the screams had started.

Even during his first rise, she'd never heard the like. The sounds spoke of unimaginable pain, similar to the few werewolf attacks she had interrupted. Still, there was something wrong…it couldn't be werewolves.

The cries were too long, and werewolves only had a certain tolerance for bloodlust, after which they would kill their victim. The duration of the screams meant a willful intent for suffering. The abrupt cutoff could only mean a finishing blow.

Susan had long-since been sobbing against her robe, trying to drown out what they could hear. She wished she could muffle them, but any use of magic would be detected now and they needed to hear any approaching wizards.

Very close, there was the sudden impact of a flurry of spells, then a sound like the crushing of a fruit and a slight splash. Amelia dearly wished she didn't know what had just likely happened.

"You can come out now. They're all dead."

Amelia gasped, then berated herself for it. "How do we know the same fate doesn't await us as well?"

A sigh. As if her questions were putting him off in some way. "I hereby swear on my life and magic that I bear no ill intent to any member of the Bones family this night, and will not initiate a conflict. Good enough?"

The family matriarch wrenched herself free from her niece and moved into the main space of her basement. The blood splatter on the wall caught her eye, but she passed it up in favor of…

He was young…but tall for his age. Messy black hair, several stones set into his left ear, bright green eyes that were almost fluorescent in the low light. His right arm was dripping in blood and looked nearly claw-like in the shadows. He wore a brown trench coat with something like dragon hide body armor underneath and simple American-style blue jeans.

"Who are you?"

"The Hellsing Organization, Independent Operative and Trash Man. Your office contacted us to ask for aid against the terrorist threat. I need you packed and ready to go in under an hour. We'll be at one of my safe houses until you can contact your people."

Amelia stared. It was hard to believe that the boy was who he said, but the confidence in his words was undeniable. "You seem a bit…extreme for a government operative."

Harry nodded appreciatively. It was a vague response that neither agreed nor disagreed with his orders. She was stalling. "Madame Bones, if I am required to stun you to get you and your niece out of danger, I will."

The Bones matriarch snorted. "And you're awfully young to be so demanding. Fine, we'll be ready in thirty minutes."

"Yes Sir."

"No Sir."

"I've secured the area and the house is off any government records. The grounds are unplottable and under numerous charms and wards. Yes Sir, every twelve hours. I'll call Walter, I know how busy you are."

The phone snapped shut and Amelia started slightly from her place by Susan's bed. "She's finally asleep. I'd like it if you wouldn't wake her."

The young man paused in the doorway to the room before continuing on his way to the couch, shrugging off his jacket, and collapsing. Reaching into a shirt pocket, he drew out a small case and lighter. Harry flipped the case open and stuffed a hand-rolled cigarette into his mouth, inhaling deeply.

Amelia sniffed, narrowing her eyes. That wasn't cigarette smoke. "You could at least smoke that outside. It is illegal after all."

"Marijuana is the only thing short of Heroine that calms me down. If I don't light up or shoot up, I'll keep killing." Harry explained calmly. "And this is my house."

The Bones matron stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. "I saw what you did to some of those men. It was inhuman."

Harry shrugged off the accusation. "I'm not…well, not completely human. I'm one of Hellsing's pet monsters. You should be high enough in the political food chain to have heard about us." He took another deep drag.

Amelia frowned, staring at his gloved hands. She had thought she saw a claw before… "I know about Alucard and the new vampire…Seras? There was mention of a wizard in the organization, but I had assumed he or she was human."

Harry grinned, "I was when I joined up. Its not really a secret, I suppose, but I've been using dark magic, genetic engineering, and some prototype nano-technology to augment my own body." He waved his right hand. "This is my greatest work. I don't get to brag much, so you'll have to excuse me."

Amelia watched as he pulled the black glove, revealing winding vines emerging from the back of his palm and running down each of his fingers. They were pulsing slowly, somewhat reminiscent of a heartbeat. "A reengineered Holly seed magically bound to vampire blood. It functions as a wand and allows me limited use of vampiric abilities. In exchange, I feed it blood; any type will do, but I think it prefers human."

She may have gasped, but she honestly couldn't care less. There had been a few stories make their way around the office about the Hellsing Organization, but she honestly passed most of them off as sheer bull. Who in their right mind would allow a government order to use dark magic.

The binding of a vampire was unusual, but many of the old families had done that and worse. But this…this was dark magic of the most horrifying kind, that hadn't been seen since England banned necromancy in the twelve hundreds. To think that there were still this kind of magic…

And that she owed her life to a practitioner of it.

He was smiling at her, grinning in the most disturbing way…

"I'll contact someone tomorrow, I'm going to bed…" Amelia blinked, struck by the fact she had never asked his name. "Mr.…?"

"Potter." He stated, a bemused edge to his voice. "Harry Potter."

Amelia would forever deny that she had flinched, but she couldn't forget the feral gleam to his grin, or the flash of gold in his eyes. Harry Potter…

"This is a bad idea."

No Shit.

"It's a show of strength. I can't allow those bastards to think they've intimidated me." Amelia growled, mostly ignoring the dark wizard.

Sound reasoning, save for the fact that she's walking into a death trap.

Harry, in turn, tried his best to ignore the snide voice giving unnecessary commentary. "So you're just going to leave someone you just met in a safe house that you have no idea how to get back to in order to confront what is most likely an assassination team waiting for you."

Amelia Bones glared at the young man. "Of course not. I've given Susan a Dreamless Sleep Potion and you'll be coming with me."


The woman paused, turning from where she was combing her hair out. Very slowly, she asked, "And what makes you think you have a choice in the matter?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and held up a set of bound papers. "I'm an independent operative with the Hellsing Organization, on the authority of the Queen of England. Give me two good reasons to do anything you say."

Oh, bribery, you're quite the adult now.

Amelia's eye twitched. "Out of curiosity, why did you save me in the first place?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, I felt like killing something and it seemed that you were a sensible enough replacement for the Minister. If you walk out of this house right now, you'll prove me wrong."

Amelia's knuckles turned white as she sighed. This boy had no morals at all. He was blatantly disrespecting the head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement and obviously enjoying abusing the privileges granted him.

Her voice came out somewhat like two rocks grating together. "What do you want?"

"In return for following your orders, you assign me a marginally competent partner who can serve as eye candy and give me access to the library of ministry restricted spells." Harry stated blandly, pulling out a joint.

Amelia stared.

"I'm fifteen." Harry deadpanned.

"Goddamn it. Fine."

2nd venture into the world of Harry Potter crossovers.

Feedback is appreciated.