Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or any characters from it.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hellsing franchise or any characters from it.

All OC's have been created by me and as such I own the rights to them.

This story is a work of fan creation and will not be used for monetary gain.

Weapon of the Cross

Chapter 1: Return from the Holy land

24th July 1991 12:00 GMT No. 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surry

The boy stood at the door of the typical suburban. Dressed in a small black suit with black shirt and shoes, black suitcase at his side with an airline pass around the handle, in his left hand a copy of the Catholic Herald and his right on the doorbell. The dark haired boy had paused as a gust of wind had blown a chill across his neck, as if god had looked down and was telling him personally that this plan was a bad idea, putting his paper on the suitcase he took the silver crucifix out from under his shirt and kissed it before replacing it beneath the dark cloth, finely he pressed the button and took a step back.

A woman with a long face answered the door, she was dressed in a flower print dress with a powder pink cardigan and neat shoes, ready and prepared for his arrival as she was you might have thought this was any normal amicable woman. The boy however remembered that this was the woman who had left a one year old child on the step of a Catholic church in the middle of winter. He drew himself up to his full (if still rather short) height and prepared to address the hoarse faced woman.

"Aunt Petunia" the boy stated in a neutral tone with a hint of an Italian accent, he picked up his suitcase and paper and took a step forward. "I thought it would be better if I was driven here rather than having you put yourselves out to get me". The child twitched his head backwards to indicate a large Volvo, in the drivers seat a smiling man dressed in a horrible brown jumper and dog collar, he waved before putting the car in gear and pulling away.

Petunia looked down her nose at the child before moving aside to let him into the house. He stood near the staircase and waited, she continued the disdainful stair until he looked directly into her eyes with those bright green eyes, they were just like her sisters but that face and hair were all from his father.

"You will sleep in the second bedroom for the time you're here" she said while looking into his eyes. "I've just finished cleaning it and replaced the lock, could you wait there until dinner so that I can explain this to my husband and son, they don't know you're coming or why so I'll need you there to help me tell them". She handed him a key set of keys and watched as he started to move to the staircase, as he walked away she talked after him. "Could you wear your normal attire so as to help explain?"

The child stopped turned and nodded to her before continuing to his room, she sighed before moving to start tidying the kitchen.

14:33 GMT

"MUUUUUM WHY'S THE DOOR TO MY OTHER ROOM LOCKED" Dudley screamed down the stairs. "IT'S NOT FAIR IT'S NOT LIKE I DID ANYTHING WRONG". The young boy had been sent to his friend's Piers house for the day so as not to be around when the other young boy arrived. He had just returned and rather than speaking to his mother he had run strait to the playroom and his beloved toys.

"Dudley stop screaming and calm down" she cooed up the stairs "I've had to put a guest in the play room, he's had a long flight and will be staying with us for a while, I threw out all those broken toys now get ready for dinner when your father gets home"

Dudley stormed into his own room and slammed the door and throwing a tantrum that would have anyone thinking that his favourite puppy had died. Petunia sighed, knowing that this would get worse once Vernon got home and demanded an explanation as to why his son was crying and there was person staying in the playroom, she just hoped he didn't accuse her of adultery again as the last time he had beaten her. She didn't hate her husband, but nor did she truly love him anymore, not after all the beatings over the years and the demeaning treatment. She often wondered that if she had have given away the child in the second bedroom would she have been spared the abuse from him.

17:42 GMT

Petunia was so desperately worried about how dinner would go she didn't hear Vernon come through the front door cursing Vicars and there ruddy Volvos. He stormed into the kitchen before throwing his briefcase onto the table with a huge bang causing his wife to jump a two foot into the air with a huge scream. The knife she had been cutting a tomato with slipped and cut across her knuckles on her left hand leaving blood and tomato pulp mixing on the chopping board. She nursed her hand and started looking for a cloth, all while the beefy man continued to rant and rave about his trip home from the company, in particular "That retard dogcollered twat in mangy old Volvo".

"What the bloody hell is this?"

Petunia knew that this question was directed to her so she turned to see Vernon indicating the table laid for four. She picked up a tea-towel from by the sink to use as a makeshift bandage.

"It's for an important person I think the family should meet. Especially as I want him here. He's only coming down for dinner but will be staying here with me for the next few days." She wrapped the fabric around her hand before continuing. "He'll be leaving before Dudley goes to Smeltings so every thing will be peaceful."

"Peaceful. Staying here every day with you." he spat the venom clear in his voice, "is he one of your shags hey, I spend all day working for this family and your fucking around and inviting them to dinner, TO STAY, with OUR SON in the house, is that right eh, EH, MARGE WAS RIGHT YOU REALY ARE GOOD FOR NOTHING LITTLE BINT."

Petunia slid to the floor under the torrent of insults. It was always like this these days he would explode over the smallest thing, then the accusations would follow, the threats next and finely violence. Blood seeped through the tea-towel and tears ran down her face. Vernon took her silence as conformation.

"You don't deserve to be Dudley's mother, if you don't get that bastard out of this house this instance I'll kill him." He grabbed her slashed hand and squeezed until she screamed again. He leered before whispering in her ear "And this will be just a taste of what you will get."

He dropped her hand before standing and turning to the table to see a child not his own sitting there dressed in some sort of costume. At first Vernon started to panic, had this boy seen him abusing his wife, was he one of Dudley's friends, would he tell his parents, why was the recognition so vague. Vernon moved towards the boy.

"Hello young man do I know you, you wouldn't happen to be one of Dudley's friends would y…" The questions died both in his throat and head as he saw the boys face. The dark black hair cut short, the facial features and small glasses were just like the boys farther, but the cool green eyes could only be from his sister-in-law. That scar on his forehead prominent as ever. The boy's eyes met his through the spectacles.

"Hello Uncle Vernon, nice to see you again. Will dinner be ready soon" Said the cold voice of the child with its slight Italian lilt.

At the table of No. 4, Privet Drive sat Harry James Potter. Dressed in his black suit with dog-collar and silver rosary hanging from his neck, he looked every inch the priest he was, Father Harry James Potter.