Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Hellsing or Harry Potter.

Harry stood on the edge of the roof. He let the ring that he had been staring at fall. Today was the day his life had fallen apart.

(Around Noon)

"Potter!"

Harry looked up from his desk. As an Auror Trainee he shared a desk with several other trainees. Most of them banked on the fact that they were training with the Harry Potter. Harry knew it but he never really said anything.

"Yes sir?"

"Weasley took the day off sick again apparently, it's pretty bad. I'm cutting you loose. Take the rest of the day off. Don't want you getting sick either."

"Are you sure Sir?"

The older Auror smiled. "You're ahead of the rest of the class anyway. Do something for yourself today."

Harry smiled. "Thanks." As he changed out of his trainee robes, Harry's hand closed around a small, black velvet covered box. He smiled. Since Ginny had finished Hogwarts two months ago, Harry had toyed with the idea of proposing. He'd do it today. The Harpies had a training camp starting at the end of the week. He wouldn't see Ginny for about two weeks once it started.

Harry smiled as he left the Ministry. He had rented a flat for Ginny so that she didn't disrupt Molly with her hours for the Harpies.

Harry apparated to the alley behind the building. He climbed the stairs and took out his key. Harry was going to make a nice, romantic dinner. He already knew what he was going to make. Harry frowned as he heard noise from the apartment. The door was unlocked. Harry drew his wand and crept into the flat.

What he discovered had him freezing on the spot.

"Draco!" Ginny's moan echoed through the small flat.

"You like that don't you?" Grunts were heard. "Tell me, can the halfblood make you moan like that?"

The conversation was interspersed with various grunts, moans, and pauses, but Harry heard every word.

"I told him… Ah! That I'm keeping myself pure."

"You are. You haven't sullied yourself with him."

"So is your mom gone next week? Potter thinks that training camp is two weeks LONG!"

"Yes. She's taking the Ice Queen's sister shopping. She thinks that I love her."

"Can we keep doing this when we're both married?"

"Yes. I'm not leaving my blood-traitor minx alone.

Harry desperately wanted to believe that this was a prank of some kind. He cast a spell taught to Aurors. The wall became transparent. It only worked in one direction.

Sure enough, on the bed was Ginny. Draco Malfoy was with her on the bed and both were naked. They were obviously in the act of having sex.

"Pound me Draco! I can't wait until Ron pushes Harry into the path of a nasty curse. We can do this all DAY LONG! Do that again Draco!"

"I still don't understand why you put up with the Halfblood."

"The Potter and Black Fortunes! Why else would I? They'll be mine once we're married. Enough talk about him Draco. He's off in a few hours. Give me enough to make it through until I see you again."

Now faced with proof, a feeling grew in Harry's chest. It was almost like someone was cutting into his chest with a burning, splintery spoon. Harry canceled the spell, collected Ginny's key, and left the flat.

Harry was not happy. He was enraged, and yet felt empty. A dark cloud collected over his thoughts as the hole in his chest dug deeper and began to burn. He stormed down to the owner's flat. A rap on the door had the older woman answering. "Mr. Potter! How good to see you."

Harry nodded and handed the keys to the woman. "Ms. Thurston, I'm afraid that I'm terminating the lease."

The older woman frowned. "Can I ask why?"

"You know I was renting the flat for my girlfriend. Well, she…" Harry's pained face and shining eyes told the woman all that she needed to know. Namely, the sounds that she heard from the apartment weren't Mr. Potter and the redhead.

"The bint turned out to be a cheating tart?"

Harry nodded. He was surprised as the woman gently took the keys from his hand and lightly hugged him. "For what it's worth Mr. Potter, I won't charge you if she trashes the place when I toss her out at the end of the week. Where should I send the deposit?"

Harry's mood was such that he didn't really care. "Keep it. It will tide you over until you get a new tenant."

The older woman frowned. "Are you sure dear?"

Harry nodded morosely. "I'm sure."

A wrinkled hand patted Harry on the cheek. "I'll let some of the others around here know that she's not worth renting to. Maybe the next one you find will be the decent sort."

Harry nodded. "Thanks."

As Harry left the office, he frowned. Were his actions too drastic? Should he instead try to see if Ginny was under some spell? It was Malfoy. He needed to talk to someone about this. Anyone. Harry's mind drifted to Hermione. She was staying at Grimmauld due to a falling out with her parents over her modifying their memories.

Harry apparated to the house and he froze when he heard Hermione's voice moaning in ecstasy. Before Harry could turn and leave, he heard Hermione cry out. "YES RON!"

Harry frowned. Ron was supposed to be sick. Irritated, Harry slinked up the stairs. He was glad that Kreacher had finally fixed them so they didn't squeak.

Harry cast the spell on the wall to the library. Hermione was surrounded by books from the Black Library and she and Ron were clearly basking in the afterglow.

"Mmm. Are you sure that Harry won't mind tackling your work either today?"

"Of course not. This is Harry Potter we're talking about." Harry watched as Ron caressed Hermione. "So tell me, you really like our time among the books, don't you?"

Hermione nodded. "Since Harry told Kreacher to listen to me, I've ordered him to stay out of the house whenever you're coming over. I love being with you in a library Ron. You know that."

"Well, when Harry dies in the line of duty, this will be yours you know."

Hermione sighed. "Oh I know. I just wish I could convince him some other way to part with the Black Library. He never reads, so it should belong to people that will actually use it."

"Not to mention that some of what you've found could make us obscenely rich."

"That too. But unless Harry allows the spells to leave the Library, I can't use them. They are Black and Potter Family Spells."

Harry crept down the stairs in shock. Entering the kitchen, Harry called, "Kreacher?"

The wizened house elf appeared. "Yes Master?"

For all it felt like a wound was being slowly cauterized in his chest, Harry's tone was empty and cold. "You are no longer to listen to Hermione Granger. Ever again."

"Yes Master." The old elf seemed happy at that order.

"When Hermione and Ron leave Grimmauld Place you are not to allow them to reenter the house. I don't want them knowing what I just heard. I want you to clean and organize the entire Black Library." He fixed the elf with a stare. "I want you to replace all the books that you took from when the Order of the Phoenix was here. Only those I approve will be able to access that room and the rest of the house once they leave. I give you authority to change the wardstone. Am I clear? Don't let your presence be seen until Hermione calls for you. Only pretend to follow her orders, but find a way to suggest that she step out to handle something."

Kreacher now looked deliriously happy. "Understood sir."

As he heard Hermione and Ron resume their earlier activities, Harry left the house in silence.

Harry tossed on a nondescript cloak and headed to the Leaky Cauldron. He ordered a glass of firewhiskey. Could his day possibly get worse?

As he sipped the glass in an attempt to drown his sorrows and dull the pain, Harry overheard the rowdy table behind him.

"It's so annoying! Just because he's the Great Harry Potter he keeps showing us up in training."

"Yeah. I mean, so what if he beat the Dark Lord. He's still just a halfblood."

"Look at me, I'm Harry Potter. I got accepted without NEWTs, simply because I'm me."

As the mocking continued and grew increasingly derisive, Harry's melancholy grew deeper.

Quickly draining the glass, Harry stood. He went to one of the offices in Diagon. Should something happen to him, he needed to make sure that no one could or would get what they didn't deserve.

As he stepped into the office Harry smiled, the gesture never reaching his eyes. "I need to make a will."

The process was exceptionally easy. He was leaving everything to Teddy, with the warning that Teddy shouldn't fraternize with the Weasleys.

Harry also wrote a letter to Andromeda to be included in the will. It detailed exactly what he had witnessed that day. A copy of his memory, playable in a Pensieve, was included. Harry then proceeded to write a letter to his supervisor officially resigning from the Auror Training program. No official reason was given. As it was, Harry was stricken with pain and sorrow, and needed some time to cope with everything.

Before signing everything in a blood quill, Harry hesitated. The thought that this might be taking things too far rolled around in his head. But the dark anger that had simmered was not to be denied. Harry signed the paperwork and paid the lawyer. They would execute the Will should something happen to him. Andromeda was also sent a sealed copy since she was Teddy's guardian. As he left the building, Harry altered the charm that he had on a bracelet to prevent unwanted owls from finding him. No owl could or would find him now. Regardless of the early hour, light was fading fast. The clouds were thicker, the air almost heavy. Harry thought it was a fitting atmosphere.

Harry briefly stopped by Gringotts to deposit a legal copy of the will in his vault and remove a large sum of money. He paid a fee to have the vaults re-keyed. That way no one but him could access the vaults. He didn't want to have to go back to the bank any time soon. Besides, gold went a long way in the Muggle world.

Harry purchased another few glasses of firewhiskey before blindly apparating. He needed to be alone in his morose thoughts. Harry stood at the edge of the roof, staring at the engagement ring that he had purchased for what felt like an eternity. It was long after the sun set that he finally tilted his hand, allowing gravity to take the ring from him since he couldn't bring himself to throw it.

Harry stared at the street below as the golden circle was lost to the night. The anger that had pushed him throughout the day was gone. In its place was cold despair. Should he follow the little gold band into oblivion? Time stood still for Harry as he stared into the dark of the road below. The idea was one that had merit. The pain would be over.

Harry spun as a voice spoke from behind him.

Not for the first time, Helena wished that the powers of her Bloodline weren't passive. Yet another meeting of the Children of the Night that worked to evade the attack dog of Hellsing. This particular meeting was one of the more difficult to endure. Injurious commentary, malicious observations, and rather horrid glances had been sent her way. The worst was when one vampire had kissed the back of her hand in greeting. His words were obviously honeyed, but thanks to her abilities that she kept others from discovering, Helena knew that his actions were not truthful. It was probable that he became a Fledgling simply because of his interest in young children. Helena had fixed him with a sneer and a glare, causing the disgrace of a Vampire to flinch backwards.

Several other Vampires had ribbed the Fledgling simply because Helena was older than all the other Vampires present. Helena was aloof and hushed. Several Vampires made a spiteful observation to the Fledgling that even if she took an interest in someone, there was nothing that could be done, unless they were interested in little girls.

Helena listened to the warnings given and also made note of when the next meeting would be held. Helena used her powers to hide her movements as she stole a bag of blood from a blood bank. In her anger, Helena drank straight from the bag. Normally she wouldn't do something so boorish, but her anger had flared as well as her thirst.

Once she was sated, Helena discarded the bag in a dumpster in an alley. She leapt up to a roof a few streets from her apartment. Helena wanted nothing more than to rip the throats of those uncultured swine. Instead of returning to her sanctuary, Helena had settled on the roof of her small apartment, drinking in the nightscape of London. She ruminated over the comments, doing her best to let them fade into the night. One barb that refused to dislodge was that she would forever be alone. In truth, that was one reason why Helena didn't associate with other Vampires. Her abilities granted her insight to their true feelings and natures. She couldn't tolerate even one of them.

Helena was surprised as a figure appeared from nothing. She had witnessed this before. Whatever the identity of this individual, they were a magic user. Helena went to go inside, but something halted her retreat. She could see tears catching the available light before they impacted the edge of the roof. She could feel his sorrow from here. Something about it intrigued her. Helena ghosted closer. She held a hand out and focused. A feather-light touch connected with a stray hair.

Helena pulled back her hand and focused on the back of the young man before her. He was noble, self-sacrificing, and had loved deeply. Helena watched as a ring fell from this man's outstretched hand. Curious. She watched the figure stare at the street below. Eventually Helena's curiosity got the better of her and she spoke. "Would you take your own life so callously? To toss aside the joy and flame of life merely because of sorrow?"

Harry frowned as he looked at who had spoken. It was a young girl. Her eyes glowed golden. He turned away. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Nor would I expect you to understand my sorrow." There was no condescension in the girl's tone. It was as if she was commenting on the weather.

Harry looked at the girl and studied her. She wasn't human. A feeling of power tickled at his senses. He returned to staring at the street. "The girl that I loved was planning for my death while being involved with someone that tried to kill me and that I despise. My friends also showed that they have been the friends I thought they were."

"My friends are long dead."

"I'm sorry. I've lost some too."

"If only death were as easy as stepping from a building to impact the cold ground below."

Harry let out a snort. "I doubt it would be that easy for me either." His magic would likely work to save him.

"True. As a Wizard, such a simple death like that is beyond you."

Harry focused on the girl for several long moments. There was something about her. A sadness that seemed to echo his own. She returned his stare with an expression of disinterest. "Then perhaps you might desire some company for the evening?"

"You would willingly spend time with one such as I?" There was a curious tone in her gloomy voice.

Harry shrugged. "Why not? If anything, it might make today bearable."

"Will you walk into my parlor said the spider to the fly."

Harry frowned. "I'm afraid that I don't understand the reference."

"Have the literacy standards fallen so far?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I was punished for excelling in school."

Helena frowned at that remark. "Then perhaps I can share some truly excellent literature. My name is Helena."

Harry nodded. "Harry. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Helena."

As he followed the girl into a rooftop apartment, Harry began to focus on what his senses were telling him. "You are a Vampire."

"Well divined young Wizard." Candles flares to life illuminating a space that was cozy and dreary at the same time. Multiple shelves of books could be seen along the walls and an old phonograph cranked itself and began playing some unknown piece of music.

When he settled into an offered chair, Harry conjured a glass goblet and cast a mild Cutting Curse. Blood ran down his hand to collect in the goblet. He sealed the cut and passed the goblet to the vampire.

Helena's eyes widened slightly at the actions. She took the goblet tentatively and swirled the crimson liquid slightly. "Such a considerate guest." She sipped from the goblet. "Virgin Blood? In these times and at your age; it is truly a rarity. And a Wizard's blood to boot."

Harry made sure to levitate the remaining rivulets into the goblet. "I don't wish to be a poor guest."

Helena took a measured sip from the goblet. "I haven't spoken with your kind before Wizard. It is usually attack first and questions later."

Harry sighed and settled in the chair. "I don't have any reason to act as such. Not much of a reason to do anything really."

The golden-eyed girl studied Harry for a long moment. "True. So tell me young Harry, who is your favorite author?"

"Since I have never had a chance to appreciate any, why don't you share your favorite with me?"

"Well said. There are far too many good ones to only say I have one favorite." Helena gestured and a book floated into her hand. "Perhaps we shall start simple. The Lady or the Tiger: by Frank R. Stockton. I'm curious as to what you think of it."

The discussion that followed was probably the most pleasant company that Helena had had in decades. When Harry left to go get food of his own, she drained the remaining blood from the goblet. Power. Young Harry had power, and his sorrow was as deep as hers. It was fresher, more poignant, and it showed in his blood. But the depth of his sorrow was what surprised her. And yet he remained noble in his actions towards her. Helena seemed to study her guest. He seemed honest. Again something that was a rarity. She smiled at Harry as he excused himself. Well, it had been a fascinating diversion.

When Harry returned with a small meal for himself, Helena was surprised. They read and discussed literature long into the night.

When Harry came back the following night and repeated his actions, Helena found Harry's presence to be unobtrusive, so she allowed it. After several such nights, Helena found herself looking forward to Harry's visits. His motivations weren't loutish, and his interest on their discussions was sincere.

For Harry, the nightly visits with Helena were an escape. Every day, several people called on the Floo. Kreacher was told to tell them that Harry wasn't home. Harry didn't want to talk to or see anyone. Harry had sequestered himself in the Library and read. Something Helena had mentioned in passing about how knowledge should be gained and not wasted had directed his morose thoughts to using the resources he had on hand. During the day Harry slept, ate, and studied. It was enough to distract him from his pain.

After two weeks of visiting Helena Harry asked, "Helena, can I ask you a personal question?"

Helena looked at Harry with a measured stare. "You may."

"How did you become a Vampire?"

Helena gave a long sigh and closed her book. "What you ask is not a pleasant matter."

Harry nodded. "I don't mean to pry."

Helena was silent before nodding. "I know." Helena used a small amount of her power to create an image on the wall.

A stone building appeared, with arching windows, several chimneys, and expansive attached grounds. "This was my home when I was human. My family were minor nobles, but not without means. They valued several things, none of them money. Their businesses were run fairly and honestly. As a result we were prosperous."

The image shifted, showing people that looked stern, but had a smile at the corners of their mouths. "My family routinely gave to the poor and always was looking for industrious individuals to support. They were honest, God-fearing people. I was the only daughter and I had two older brothers. While it was not the norm for females to be educated at the time, I was. However, I was also taught the womanly arts of keeping a house, even without servants." Helena's voice tinged with longing and pain that time had dulled. "I was a rather precocious child. I would often hide myself in the library and the servants would find me and drag me to my lessons. My mother did her best to teach me to appreciate the arts. I went to my first opera when I was seven. I had lessons on various instruments weekly since then. My family was proud of what I learned. One of my brothers would always take a moment and teach me what my father had taught him about business."

Ever so slightly, Helena's voice caught. "O fleeting joys of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes." She saw the look on Harry's face and shook her head lightly. "We will read Milton later. We were happy, but it was not to last."

On the image, a cloaked figure appeared.

"One night as I was once again hiding in the library, I heard the screams of my mother. I rushed to see what occurred. My family lay dead; their throats torn out by a monster. I saw the cloaked figure drop my mother to the floor, blood dripping from its maw. I couldn't move. Whether it was fear or the vampire's power that bound me in place, I know not. In the blink of an eye the vampire was drinking my blood. Our gamekeeper burst through the door with a crossbow and hit the vampire in the throat; the cursed blood entered my gasping mouth."

"Several of our menservants attacked the vampire, but it availed them nothing. In an attempt to escape, I was able to drag myself to a small cubbyhole under the stairs. I lost consciousness shortly after."

Helena seemed to steel herself. "When I awoke, I knew that something was different. Even though it was dark as pitch, I could see every inch of my retreat. Objects came to me with but a thought." Flame from one of the candles grew and held itself hovering above Helena's palm. "Fire was at my command. I knew the lore and tales of creatures of the night and death. I was one of them now. Many nights since then I have wished that the bolt had not found its mark."

A solitary, crimson tear leaked from Helena's eye.

"I gathered a few things; namely my family's strongbox, a few dresses, a large sachet of dirt from the garden, and I fled into the night. Should I be discovered, I would have been hunted. To defend myself, I drank the blood of a pair of highwaymen that first night. I unknowingly broke my Sire's hold on me before he realized I existed."

Helena was surprised as Harry's arms wrapped around her and she was lifted into the air in a hug. Harry then sat and placed the Vampire on his lap. "Harry?"

"I'm sorry you had to endure that Helena."

Helena went to move, but Harry's voice held her immobile as he told her of his own story. It held its own pain and loss.

Helena recognized how his sorrow had been so poignant. He had no family left, witnessed the death of one of the only links to his family, he had been betrayed by those he held dear. No one saw him as a man that wanted to help, simply a near mythological figure that wasn't supposed to make mistakes or even be human. Helena now understood how Harry was in such a dour mood when they had met.

When Harry finished speaking, silence reigned as the candles guttered out one by one, casting the room into darkness. Helena realized that someone was willingly touching her without reprehensible intentions. It was the first time since she became a vampire that it had occurred. After a time, Helena registered a slight weight on her. Harry had fallen asleep and was leaning on her ever so slightly.

Helena didn't know what to think about the situation. It was…different. After such a long and lonely life, different wasn't a bad thing. Helena slowly extricated herself from Harry and the chair. A blanket, kept mostly for show, floated over and draped itself around the slumbering form of Harry Potter.

As Helena watched Harry sleep, a ghost of a smile graced her lips before she retired to her coffin. As Helena lay in the casket, it felt like something was missing. She ignored the feeling and closed her eyes.

As a note, this is the first chapter of a completed story and the following ones will be put up in rather quick succession. If you have an issue regarding any changes that I made or will make to the story-lines, please note the name of the website. As a side-note, if you think that Harry's reaction to the situation at the beginning of the chapter is unrealistic, I would say that you have never felt such pain yourself. It's very realistic. At least, it was for me.

Also, reviews aren't necessary.