November 1st, 1981; 12:19am, Godric's Hollow
Eerie silence encompassed the little village in the aftermath or the terrible evil that had befallen its residents. Smoke clogged the air, choking any who attempted to get close to the scene. One of the houses at the end of the lane had flames flickering within. The kitchen was on fire. However, anyone unlucky to be out at this time of the night could not for the life of them figure out where the smoke was coming from. It was as if the house never existed.
From within, a piercing wail cut the stillness like a knife. Amidst the death and carnage of the destroyed home livid green eyes snapped open and filled with tears. Baby Harry gazed around his ruined nursery, at the corpse of his mother beside him. Even at his diminished age he knew he had been dealt a grievous loss. He stopped crying suddenly. His eyes, which should have held innocent curiosity on any other day, were filled with a wisdom that not even he understood. And for the first time in his short life, he knew... he was completely and utterly alone.
The stillness of the property was broken as a figure in flowing purple robes stepped out of the shadows with a muted crack. The sound startled the child but no cry escaped him. Albus Dumbledor pulled up short as he caught sight of the room. When his instruments had informed him that the wards around Potter house had fallen, he never expected anything like this. Feeling eyes upon him, he turned his gaze to the baby sitting on the floor.
So this was Harry Potter, the child spoken of in the prophecy. Voldemort had sealed both their fates the moment he chose to attack the Potters. It was no shock to the old wizard that Tom had done so. He picked his way over the rubble and stooped to look at the child. A livid pink scar stood out under a fringe of wispy black hair.
"So... that would be where Tom..." He trailed off and his fingers drifted out to touch the curse scar. Pulling up short of touching the skin, he frowned. This child did not feel right. Allowing his glasses to slip to the tip of his nose, Dumbledor gazed into the boys eyes with a frown. Horror dawned on him as he delicately shifted through the fragmented memories within the boy's head. Drawing away from Harry swiftly, as if bitten, he turned accusing eyes on Lily's body and shook his head.
"Oh, Lily, what have you done? You have doomed that entire wizarding world with your actions."
Perhaps there was still hope though. What he had witnessed may not be as it seemed. Young Harry was still too young to understand a great many things, and his thoughts were chaotic and fragmented as a baby's should be. Most likely the boy was confusing what he may have witnessed of Tom during the attack. Corrective measures would have to be put in place however, in case Lily had done what the old Headmaster suspected was within her powers to do.
Turning his back, Albus left the nursery and Harry behind. Work needed to be done to cover this up from the muggles. Arrangements needed to be made for the boy. He suspected the baby's magic would protect him from further harm until then. Making his way downstairs, he bowed his head in sorrow as he happened upon James' corpse. This loss would be mourned greatly.
With a little help from his wand, the flames within the kitchen sprung to a raging inferno, swiftly engulfing the room. Albus shook his head once more, this time in sad remembrance. James was a notorious glutton. No doubt he had been making a midnight snack when Tom had struck. At least the bad habit would serve a purpose in the end.
He made his way out of the house and turned to watch as wood popped and beams snapped from within. Yes, Harry would be fine. He had placed a timed extinguishing spell over the mess. The flames would die out before they reached the child. It was better this way. If the wizarding world ever caught wind of some of the dark history contained within that building, all faith would be lost. James and Lily were the most prominent family opposed to Voldemort. Their names would not be dragged through the mud for the sins of their ancestors. Neither would young Harry's... no... The wizarding world needed a hero, if this was a portend of that yet to come.
Waving his wand, he summoned his patronus and ordered it to seek out Rubeus Hagrid. The child within the ruins needed to be taken to a safe house for evaluation, and he did not want Sirius Black getting a hold of the boy. No matter what Lily had done to the child, Harry would still need special handling. Being raised by a magical family, in the spotlight, being coveted by masses of adoring fans; it was the last thing any child would need, however if the prophecy was correct...
Yes, better for the boy to go to the muggles. Albus greatly suspected that the Dursleys would keep the boy humble and ignorant of magic. It was in everyone's best interest. That aura he had sensed around the boy had been undeniably dark. While it was possible for the killing curse to have such an effect, the images he had picked from the baby's mind troubled him. Harry would need special handling indeed, no matter the case.
November 1, 1981; 10:21am, Unknown Location
The wizarding world rejoiced with explosive fervor at the news. Headlines were already proclaiming the end of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the testimony of one Albus Dumbledore solidified it. The unknowing service Harry Potter had provided to the world was being talked about with reverence, and news of it even leaked into the muggle world. The baby boy who had survived the killing curse and defeated one of the darkest souls of the age. It was a time of celebration, and the end of a dark era in the wizarding world.
For Harry James Potter, however, it was to be the beginning of an age filled with pain and sorrow. The baby slept peacefully in a crib, charmed to sleep by the Headmaster, blissfully unaware of the uproar he had inadvertently caused. Said old man was standing over the sleeping child, staring down at him in the dim lighting provided by the fireplace. A shadow hovered near the door of the room, observing the scene with keen interest.
"Is there a possibility the tests were false-positive, Severus?"
"No. The results were quite clear, Headmaster. There was residue from two separate spells. One was clearly the killing curse. The other was also quite clear."
The shadow finally stepped into the light and moved to stand near the crib. Black eyes observed the child dispassionately. The man hated James Potter, even in the wake of his death. At the moment, however, the child looked more like Lily than ever. Scowling slightly, Severus pushed such ideas away. The child was an abomination that should have died along with his parents.
As if sensing his companion's thoughts, Dumbledore spoke, "The Potters are dead, Severus. Let them lie in peace. As for Harry... My dear baby boy... He will be sent to live with Lily's family. It is for the best. He will be kept from magic until it comes time for him to attend Hogwarts. We cannot risk that he get a taste for power. Not with what Lily did to him..."
Severus' attention snapped to his leader, eyes shadowed. Albus intended to place him with such monsters! The child should be kept from magic, yes, but not those muggles! Unbidden memories sprang to mind. Of Lily crying in the second floor girls bathroom. Her concealed fear at going back to her sister's house after the death of her parents. Her dull eyes and careful movements upon returning to the school each year. Snarling, he turned to the man fully, glaring at him.
"You know what will happen to him there!"
"Yes." The former Death Eater nearly recoiled but held firm. He hated the child in the crib, and all that he represented, yet even he had a heart. It seemed however that Albus did not. Before the potions master could react, Dumbledore petrified him, blue eyes sad as he turned and leaned over the crib. With a sinking feeling, Severus listened as his old professor spoke.
"Lily's actions are unforgivable. To use the darkest of the forbidden arts on her own son... I am binding his powers, Severus. If the world were to ever find out, the Ministry would have him put to death, savior or not. This is for his own good, as well as ours."
Struggling futilely against the spell, all he could do was watch as the old man drew runes of binding in the air over the child. He managed to close his eyes to it; however the words of the spell would forever haunt him. The last half of the spell, he was horrified to recognize. The faded mark on his left arm throbbed at the familiar words.
"Compes ut redimio, Tutela of vetus cruor, Termino malum inficio! Leech of mens, Redimio is animus ut mei! EGO to order vos!"
Pained howls of agony from the child shattered him to the very core. Lesser men would have passed out from the pain he knew the child was in. Yet the baby remained awake and quieted almost as fast as he had screamed. The charm holding Severus in place was lifted and he moved warily over to stand opposite the Headmaster at the crib. He could not bring himself to look at the supposed leader of the light.
The baby now sported black runes on his chest, over his heart. They were more terrible than the scar upon his forehead to Severus. Green eyes, the same shade as the killing curse, glared at the Headmaster. It was as if this child, barely old enough to retain memory, knew what Dumbledore had done. For his sake, Severus hoped fervently that he did.
"Speak of this to no one, Severus. Now, please take him to Hagrid."
The former Death Eater bowed, as his new master apparated away. There was nothing he could do. Dumbledore was the only one standing between Severus and the Dementor's Kiss. In solitude, he found himself scrutinized by the child. He frowned and leaned forward, holding the stare. Slowly a smile appeared on Harry's face. It startled the wizard.
"You are strange... Perhaps I can do Lily one more service."
Extricating his wand from its holster, Severus pondered what it was he thought he was doing. If Dumbledore ever found out about this he was as good as dead. Something compelled him though. Those eyes, identical to that of his school crush. They were solemn and out of place on the face of a baby. He decided then. The Headmaster knew nothing about that which he spoke of in regards to Lily Evans.
That steady green gaze watched him as he drew his own set of runes on little Harry's skin with the tip of his wand. There was not much that could be done that would not alert the Headmaster. But he hoped what little aid he offered would serve the boy well. The old man had not taken into account, the fact that Lily's spell on the boy belonged there.
"Cruor ut cruor, is alica ero perfectus. Quinque annus hinc, cruor take habitum. A vitualamen no, vos mos fulcio."
The deed done, Severus scooped the child into his arms and apparated away. The only sign of his rebellion against Dumbledore was a small, minuscule scar intersecting the center-most rune, directly over Harry's heart.
November 1st, 1981; 12:13am, Hellsing Headquarters Sub-Basement
He felt it. A stirring of power. In the distance. It was faint, but detectable to him. The shadows writhed to life around his bound form. That power... it called to him. Waking him from the darkness of oblivion. Who dared call upon him? Only his Master could do so. Attempting to call the power to him yielded no results in his weakened state.
Twenty years he had been sealed by his Master. Reduced to an old corpse. His power fled him with each day he went without sustenance until he fell into a dreamless void of existence. Until now. His bone-white hair seemed to move in a non-existent breeze as he mentally tasted that flare of power. Hunger stirred in him for the first time in years.
The air grew heavy in the long abandoned chamber. It had the feel of a storm to it, despite the clear skies hanging over the manor. He could sense it. Fast change was approaching. War. Bloodshed. Violence. His spirit roared approval and he was delighted. Soon. Soon he would be free once more!
His new found awareness allowed him to sense his Master's weakened health. Arthur Hellsing was at death's door. The patriarch's soul would depart this world before the night's end. Somehow, he wondered if the sudden influx of power had anything to do with it. He did not believe in coincidence. There was another Hellsing to take up the mantle of Master of Monster, but he knew with utter certainty that this would be no ordinary Master.
The emaciated corpse twitched as the power called to him like a Siren. Then just as suddenly as he had sensed it, it was gone. He felt the loss with all of his being. It was a unique feeling, one he had not felt in centuries. Stretching his awareness to the max, he searched, and waited. Biding his time for when his new Master would reveal themselves.
That night, at 12:15am, on All Hollow's Eve, three old souls departed the living world; and two others were reborn.
Edit: I fixed some spelling and grammar issues, as well as re-worded some of it to read better.
Dumbledore's Spell- "Shackles that bind, Restrict the evil taint! Leech of mind, bind this soul to me! I command you!"
Snape's Spell- "Blood to blood, this spell will be done. Five years hence, blood take hold. A sacrifice made, you will uphold."