Blood Lines

Blood lines: Prelude

An extract that was taken from the Diary of Darren Shan, Prince of the Vampire Mountain Clan.

There were some hard times.

After we lost both Larten Crepsley and Vancha March, people started to lose faith. And holding onto faith is half of the battle.

And so vampires began to lose the War of Scars. Our enemies, the vampaneze, even captured our mountain stronghold. We barely managed to escape, taking the Stone of Blood with us. The only consolation has been that they hadn't been able to open up the Dome of Princes.

At least we think so....

So we were reduced to a group of travelling nomads. Accompanied by wolves of our former home, we wandered up and down the countryside, hunting and hiding in forests. At that point I was still only a half-vampire, so I could forage during the day.

The next chapter in my tale begins on a day when I was out on one of these hunts. I met people who would change my life forever...

~

Harry rubbed at his glazing eyes behind his glasses and tried to stifle a yawn. History of Magic with the Slytherins was always boring, but Professor Binns hadn't even materialised through the door yet.

Binns had told them last time that in this lesson, they would be starting on 'the History of the Nosferatu and their relations with Muggles'. Whatever that meant. He'd tried to ask Hermione about it, but she was still smarting because he and Ron were copying her notes, so he had no idea of what Binns had been talking about.

Then Professor Binns floated through the large blackboard, carrying some clip notes.

Hermione sat up straight like a meercat. Ron discreetly tore off some parchment, passing it along to Harry to play a game of Hangman.

For long time, Professor Binns droned on and on, and Harry didn't really understand what he was talking about.

"One exceptional example of a nosfertau who was famous in both life and Un-death, was Vlad Tepes Drakul, a Wallchian Prince, who was also popularised by Muggles in a book by an Irish Muggle named Bram Stoker. Now admittedly, Stoker was rather free with his tale of this Nosferatu, but there is some factual information in the novel..."

"But Dracula was fictional, and made up! And wasn't he a vampire anyway?" Harry said aloud, unthinkingly.

There was a collective gasp: NO ONE interrupted Professor Binns' rants and raves.

"Nosferatu is another word for a vampire, you moron," Malfoy muttered, letting his head drop into his hands.

A year ago, this behaviour from a Slytherin would have shock the Gryffindors, but no longer. Things had changed.

Harry shot him a dark look: yeah, right, like everyone knows that.... Oh, Hermione didn't have to shake her head either, at Malfoy having to correct him.

"Perkins! Are you accusing me, your teacher, of telling you blatant lies and trying to pass them off as Ministry-approved teaching material? Do you honestly think that Dumbledore would allow me to continue to teach here, if all I told you was a pack of lies? Really Perkins, I am most insulted!" Binns shrieked.

"But-but Sir...I thought that Dracula was a fictional novel...." Harry squeaked.

"I SAID, Perkins, that Stoker was very free with the facts surrounding the legend. I never say that it was entirely untrue!" Binns retorted.

"Well, what really happened Sir?" Hermione inquired eagerly in an attempt to get Binns back on track.

"As I was saying, there was a run-in between Vlad Tepes Drakul and a Doctor Abraham Van Helsing. No one knows what became of the two men, but to this day, the Hellsing family continues to fight creatures of the night and train vampire hunters. The Good Doctor's current descendant, Sir Intergal Wingates Hellsing, carries on the tradition of vampire hunting, and runs the Hellsing Organisation, dedicated to the fight against vampires, and sanctioned by the Royal Order of the Religious Knights of the Round Table. This is an entirely Muggle run organisation, and the only order of it's kind in Britain. But there are many similar groups through out the world and presumably vigilantes as well...."

Harry blinked, but tried to pay attention to the rest of the lesson. He failed. His mind wandered back to his memorable career advice interview with Professors MacGonagall and Umbridge. He remembered telling them he had thought of being an Auror and the havoc that had wreaked. He knew that the Ministry itself had vampire hunters. What would that be like? He presumed that it would be very similar to Auror training. But after last year, would the Ministry accept him?

He still wondered though: what was it like to be a vampire hunter?

~

Correspondence belonging to Sir Intergal Wingates Hellsing of the Hellsing Organisation sent to Michael Charles Launchelotte, son of Sir Charles Edmund Launchelotte, of the Royal Order of Religious Knights of the Round Table.

Dear Michael Launchelotte,

This is Sir Intergal Hellsing, replying as regards to your invitation.

As kind as the invitation to your soiree is, I must regrettably decline it. I must admit, I have been rather snowed in with work at the 'office', so as to speak. In truth, these past few months have been rather busy for me, between running the Hellsing Organisation, and having to speak at seminars for the Police Force and Scotland Yard. Not all of them quite realise the gravity of our current circumstances...

No doubt, your own father will have told you about the run-ins that we have had with the Iscariot and Section 13, as well as other, similar groups. The worst of the lot have been the CIA's little blood pack. If the Knights have another meeting with them, and then I fear I may be in danger of becoming, what a Cockney would refer to as a 'Listerine'.

Perhaps I had better sign off now; I probably bore you with work details. Thank you again, and my apologies again.

Yours Faithfully,

Sir Intergal Wingates Hellsing.

~

"She escapes again..."

Sir Charles sighed as his son opened up his mail at the breakfast table. He had forewarned him that it would not be wise to try and court a full member of the Royal Order, much less that Hellsing female, but he did not listen. She was nothing like what her parents ought to have raised her to be. The gracious, delicate lady, who would marry a good family and provide a son who, would take her place as the leader of the Hellsing Organisation. Instead, SHE was the leader of the Organisation. He would have thought that her uncle would have taken over, as a 'Regent' of sorts, but he had also died not long after her father - barely a fortnight - and under mysterious circumstances.

"What does she say then?"

"Politely, that she was too much work. In reality, she probably can't stand me, and she's looking for any excuse to avoid me now. You saw her reaction at Uncle George's gala when she saw me."

"I am sure that she feels no hatred towards you...." Sir Charles began to hide behind his Sunday Times, sinking into his chair.

"No matter, it's no big deal... That reminds me..."

Sir Charles rolled his eyes behind the cover of the papers: "Yes, m'lad?"

"Who is that random tall guy?"

"There are many of those abroad: this is London. One could find 'random tall men' just about anywhere. Who are you talking about in particular?"

"I mean the one that works for Sir Integral. Skulks about the Hellsing mansion. Always dressed in red. Never takes those weird sunglasses off. He's about seven feet tall."

"A special operative I would imagine. Not unlike their head butler, Walter. What ever made you ask?"

"I don't know...It's just I'm sure I saw him there once before, when Intergal and I were young children, very small. And then last month I caught sight of him again about the place."

"And what, precisely, is the significance of this?"

"I don't know. He just looked like he hadn't aged a day that's all. Was very strange."

"He's probably very lucky. Or considering the salary that Hellsing provides him with, he may just have an exceedingly good plastic surgeon."