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First Hellsing fic - the funeral scene, along with an introduction to Hellsing
And now, finally, for the first time this year (and the
first time in...how many months?), there is a post with actual story.
It's not original, nor Harry Potter fic. It is for the new fandom that I
mentioned in my last
few
entries
- Hellsing.
I now have...five official Hellsing scenes that are in various stages of
progress. There are three or four other unofficial Hellsing
scenes, that I doubt very much will ever be made public - maybe only here, just
for the writing value, or to my fellow Hellsing friend. The unofficial
ones rely too much on the details that I've created around what we have in
canon, and some OCs of my own.
But, the first one that I started is finally in the final draft, after going
through two rounds of editing with my beta, not to mention loads on the side by
myself.
And of course, I'm extremely eager to make it public, as it's been so long that
I have posted anything new. The next thing that will be posted here,
after this, is the dungeon scene, which I re-wrote heavily the last couple of days
and now stands at a little over eight thousand words. (And I love it to
death.)
So, as I decided to do before I post any Hellsing fic - I will make a quick
introductory summary, so anyone who has never heard of Hellsing will be able to
read a fic without difficulty:
Hellsing: A
secret organization in
Sir Integral Wingates Hellsing: Current leader of the Hellsing organization. Her mother was Indian, but died when she was young, and her father (Arthur Hellsing) died when she was thirteen, and left everything to her. Only a few days after his passing, his brother, Richard, attempted to kill Integra so the organization would fall to him. As she tried to save herself, Integra – more by accident than intention – unleashed a very powerful vampire, Alucard, who had been locked in the dungeons underneath the Hellsing house. He killed Richard’s henchmen, but it is implied that Integra shot Richard herself.
Walter: Hellsing family retainer, but once a very valuable member of the organization. Nicknamed the “Angel of Death,” his special weapon is monofilament wires, assumedly made out of adamantine, that he is able to throw around (like a lasso, but so much cooler) guns, bodies, or necks, to restrain or threaten or decapitate or whatever else he likes.
Alucard: Five-hundred-year old, extremely powerful vampire, who rather enjoys killing. He is bound to the Hellsing family, and his powers are controlled by different levels of “control art restrictions.” He can release some of them himself, but Integra is the ultimate authority, and only she can release the highest levels.
For more information on these characters, I highly recommend this page of profiles. Each big picture is a link that leads to more information.
Finally – yes, this, and most of my Hellsing one-shots, is a crossover with Harry Potter. It’s very slight in this one – but basically, Integra goes to Hogwarts (and was sorted into Slytherin). This takes place during the winter holidays of her third year.Title: The funeral scene (will probably be changed later)
Fandom: Hellsing
Word Count: 2,283
A blanket of low, dark grey clouds covered the sky from horizon to horizon, giving the impression that it was closer to dusk than what it really was – noon. It seemed eerily quiet, like if anything was spoken it would not be heard, to the huddles of people who were gathered in small groups across the northeast corner of land on the Hellsing estate, which was the family cemetery.
A merciless, persistent wind, sharp with cold, cut across the cemetery, driving the mourners into tight huddles in a hopeless attempt to avoid the worst of the weather. Only two made no attempt to seek such comfort. Integra Hellsing stood without moving beside her father’s freshly-buried grave, her back and shoulders stiffly upright. She was wearing a very thick black cloak, dark gloves, a scarf wrapped tightly around her throat, and a dark round hat from which hung a veil of black lace before her face. The mourners looked from time to time at her small, rigid figure with a mixture of pity and a little awe.
The other person who stood alone was not in the cemetery at all. His red trench coat and hat would have drawn everyone’s attention, but he was some distance away, leaning against the back wall of the Hellsing mansion with his hat half-tilted over his face and his arms crossed. The color of his clothes was muted in the additional shadows of the building, and few noticed him.
Despite the weather, the guests were slow to approach Integra and pay their last respects. At last, the other knights of the Round Table walked past her in a single, formal line. Integra shook each of their hands in turn as they murmured about her father’s dedication and patriotism, and how they looked forward to working with her in a few years. She only thanked them for coming, just as formally, in reply.
As
“Well? What is your opinion of her?” Sir Rawlings asked, glancing up at the tall chancellor of the Round Table.
Without looking at him,
From behind them, Sir Hardcastle panted slightly as he tried to catch up with them. “How much is that girl responsible for until she’s seventeen?”
“With genes, I won’t argue,” said Sir Hardcastle firmly, nearly tripping over a large, rough patch of grass, “but personally, I am not reassured on the point of Sir Arthur having taught her to a degree anywhere near sufficient for her to competently lead Hellsing when she’s of age. History shows that the best kings and leaders leave the worst children, more often than not. Besides, when would he have taught her? The girl’s twelve –“
“Thirteen,” corrected
“Even so – she’s been away at school for the past few years, and before that – good heavens, she’s still a child!”
“No one’s disputing that,” said
Sir Rawlings coughed into his glove. “Speaking of school – will she be returning to Hogwarts next month, or next year?”
“I asked her,” said
One of the other knights gave a slight, skeptical cough. “We’ll see about that.”
“If I’m not very much mistaken,” said Sir Rawlings suddenly, “there’s Albus Dumbledore standing with her right now.”
The knights turned together to look at the tall, thin man who was before Integra. His long, wispy white hair blew out from under his hat as he bent over slightly to her. Beside him were two other people – one, a tall, feminine figure, and the other shorter and significantly portly.
Integra faced her headmaster, deputy headmistress, and head of House in turn with the same impassive expression, handshake, and words with which she had faced everyone who had previously passed her. Dumbledore, however, had not yet let go of her hand; he was looking down at her, his eyes more somber than she could ever remember seeing them before.
“I hope I will see you next week in Hogwarts,” he was saying, and Integra nodded, distantly hearing her father’s rasping voice ordering her to return to school until she completed her seventh year.
“I will be staying in school until I finish my N.E.W.T.s,” she said now to Dumbledore. “But there might be occasions when I will have to leave the school for short periods of time, if there is a situation here that needs my presence.”
He nodded gravely. “You will have my full cooperation in such situations.”
“Thank you.”
“Now –“ Dumbledore bent his knees, bringing him closer to Integra. “I wanted to inquire as to that very fascinating vampire who is standing against the wall of your house.”
Integra’s eyes widened slightly as her only sign of surprise. She had watched all the guests arrive; none had come close to approaching Alucard, and there was no human vision that could discern his teeth or the color of his eyes at this distance.
After a moment, she said, “He is in the service of Hellsing. His powers are carefully controlled, and he’s already proven to me his loyalty.”
Dumbledore nodded again, as though he understood. “Would it be possible for me to speak to him?”
Integra hesitated again, but then said, “Yes.”
Professor Dumbledore smiled very slightly and gently at her, squeezing her hand in both of his as he straightened. Integra turned her head to watch him as he began walking toward the vampire dressed in red, who had not moved in posture or in place since she had last glanced at him, before turning back to speak with her favorite teacher. It was not the professor’s class that Integra esteemed, but the teaching methods and control which she wished was the same in every class.
“My sincere condolences, Miss Hellsing.”
“Thank you for coming, Professor McGonagall.”
It was not until Dumbledore had cleared the cemetery, leaving no doubt what his object was, that Alucard moved at all. He raised his head, revealing the yellow-tinted glasses that made the color of his eyes an illusion to most humans, and his mouth stretched into a very wide grin, showing his pointed teeth most conspicuously.
Dumbledore came to a stop a few feet before him, appearing to be perfectly at ease. He said, his tone light, though the usual benevolent quality in his voice and expression was missing, “I had wondered what had happened to you. It’s been quite some time since I heard anything about you at all.”
“I was incapacitated for a couple of decades,” Alucard answered; everything about him, from his posture to the expression in his eyes, voice, and grin – which was not diminishing in the slightest – indicated great amusement.
“You seem to be back in full strength,” Dumbledore remarked, as though it was of little consequence. “What do you go by now?”
“Alucard.”
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “That’s much less subtle than I expected.”
“It’s subtle enough for most.”
Dumbledore bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the point. “I came to see about certain binds upon your impressive abilities, but those gloves you are wearing rather answer all my questions.”
Alucard, who had not uncrossed his arms, now raised his left hand to inspect the back of it himself. “They do say a lot, don’t they?”
Dumbledore’s tone continued to be polite and amiable, but the abrupt change from subject to subject, without transition, communicated volumes to Alucard. “Integra mentioned something that gave me a second reason to want to speak with you. Something about you having already proved your loyalty – or rather, I think, proved how well those gloves are enchanted. I suspect this has something to do with the conspicuous absence of her uncle today, whom I understood to be the only remaining close relative.”
“He’s dead,” said Alucard bluntly and without inflection; the smile, both in his eyes and mouth, fully communicated to Dumbledore that the obvious conclusion was the correct one, and thus came to pass the second, if slightly less dramatic, occasion of Alucard protecting Integra.
Snow began to swirl down out of the
dark sky. Most of the guests were gone
now; there was still Sir
But now something else caught her eye: someone coming around the mansion, walking very quickly toward the cemetery. Something instinctive within her recognized him an instant before her mind did, and she felt a sudden, leaping feeling that was almost carried out in her feet, a second before her brain registered: Walter.
She barely restrained herself from tearing forward to meet him, or even taking a couple of steps out; instead, she only gave a violent start that caused her professors to glance to her, and then turn to see what had caught her attention.
Integra had not realized how much
she missed Walter until she saw him now as he hurried into the cemetery,
visibly just restraining himself from running up to her. He had left for the business in
Holding herself in place now as Walter quickly made his way to her was one of the most difficult things she had done in the last few days. The only outward sign of this that her professors could see through her veil and glasses was how her eyes suddenly seemed too large for her face.
Walter maintained his speed, taking very large strides, clearly pulling himself back every few steps from breaking into an unseemly run, until he was only a few yards before Integra. As he got this close and was able to see her face and the way she stood, he slowed down to a very deliberate walk as he took in her appearance and how she was evidently not in such terrible need of support as he had feared.
He came to a stop a few feet from her, and there was a moment of silence and stillness as neither moved nor looked anywhere, but at each other, and then Walter quietly dropped to one knee and said with soft respect, “Sir Integra.”
She had only first heard the title addressed to her that day, by a small percentage of the mourners – including Professor Slughorn – who had passed her, and it had meant nothing to her, except prompting a deep desire that they wouldn’t, because it didn’t mean anything…until she heard Walter say it now.
Then it was as though everything, absolutely everything that had happened in the last two weeks, and how she had kept herself under such very tight control all today, hit her at once. Integra fought it hard, clenching her gloved hands into fists where they hung at her sides, pressing her lips together and squeezing her eyes shut, but two tears escaped anyway and slid down her cheeks.
The wind had finally died down until it was barely perceptible, but the snow swirling silently down out of the sky was visibly increasing, both in rate and amount, so that people at any significant distance could no longer make one another out clearly. This signaled the end of the funeral; within a few minutes, the cemetery was completely deserted.
Integra paused a moment outside it as Walter shut the low iron gate. She glanced slightly toward the back of the house; but Alucard had already gone. She turned her eyes back to the frozen ground as a sudden gust blew, its chill cutting straight through the lace of her veil as she began the slow trek back up to her house.
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Other than that, I think it's really, really good. I always enjoy cross-fandom stuff that's well done, and this is well done.
Yay, first review!
But thanks again for commenting!
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If you make me into a manga fan, woman, I will murder you.
Because, see, I quite like this, and Integra interests me very much, especially the description at the end of the two tears leaking down her cheeks, and I do love the way you have written Dumbledore and McGonagall; they are actually in-bloody-character, even for a crossover fic (for which I heartily applaud you), and...and...
Don't you dare make me a manga fan. Gaaaaah. Gaaaah. Because it might work, if I forget all about the drawing bits of Hellsing.
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But oh, I am so happy you truly like it! I cannot describe how happy this makes me and how much your opinion matters to me. I cannot tell you how I squee when you say you find Integra interesting! And like I said, I can't wait until I can show you the dungeon scene. Because...also like I said...appreciation of this scene does mostly depend on whether or not the reader is already acquainted with Integra and Walter. However...yes, yes, I am repeating everything I said...the dungeon scene will be much longer, and so much more action-filled - more of a complete scene - so it will not matter as much if one is familiar with Hellsing or not.
Thank you, again, for finding Dumbledore and McGonagall in character - ha, even though the latter only had five words.
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giving the impression that it was closer to dusk than what it really was – noon. It seemed eerily quiet, like if anything was spoken it would not be heard, to the huddles of people who were gathered in small groups across the northeast corner of land on the Hellsing estate, which was the family cemetery.
It sounds too forced, as if you tried to include the complete image you had in your had - which is completely unnecessary, you need to let the reader fill in some things by herself.
All in all, I liked this more than I'd expected to. I'm curious as to who Alucard is in the HP world (until Dumbledore showed up, I didn't even know it was a crossover). The dialogue between Alucard and Albus is a little forced, and the conversation between the Knights is directed at the reader so blatantly that it feels obnoxious. You don't need to spell it out for us.
Albus being the only one who noticed an important detail became clichéd a long time ago, but I didn't mind too much here.
The end is definitely better than the beginning. It's a nice story - I just think you need to polish it. Some things you mentioned were unnecessary (you don't need to describe it exactly as you see it in your head), and some things were forced, but yes, it's definitely one of your better works.
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