Harry Potter A Hellish Imprint
- Thread starter SotF
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No. The only character who is a direct 'copy' of the Hellsing cast is Harry ala Alucard.
I think that is the problem with this thread so far. We want the cast to be someone else while forgetting who they currently are.
Hermoine will never be a direct copy of Integra, or a direct copy of Seras, but Hermoine does carry a combination of both of their more defining personality traits (a desire to retain her morality and humanity as intact as possible, and an stubbornly uptight rule and duty bound personality bound to a very bad temper). Luna is not a direct copy of Seras, nor a direct copy of either Schr÷dinger or the Doctor, but she does share some of their more interesting and bizarre personality quirks. Neville is no way in hell anything like Walter, old or young, and likely never will be. Neville might eventually make a good Pip, however, even that is unlikely, and quite honestly, Neville is never going to live up to the bad assery of The Angel of Death (a title which would likely go to Hermoine (if she is 'turned' as Soft has stated) or Luna first before anyone else). Snape and Dumbledore are also characters who we have sadly neglected to talk about in our fanwank, and they are in much better positions where they can effect changes and events in the plot much more believably than the majority of the childish dipshits in Hogwarts we've been talking about (yes, I feel icky for calling Snape anything other than childish, but it still needs to be said).
I think that is the problem with this thread so far. We want the cast to be someone else while forgetting who they currently are.
Hermoine will never be a direct copy of Integra, or a direct copy of Seras, but Hermoine does carry a combination of both of their more defining personality traits (a desire to retain her morality and humanity as intact as possible, and an stubbornly uptight rule and duty bound personality bound to a very bad temper). Luna is not a direct copy of Seras, nor a direct copy of either Schr÷dinger or the Doctor, but she does share some of their more interesting and bizarre personality quirks. Neville is no way in hell anything like Walter, old or young, and likely never will be. Neville might eventually make a good Pip, however, even that is unlikely, and quite honestly, Neville is never going to live up to the bad assery of The Angel of Death (a title which would likely go to Hermoine (if she is 'turned' as Soft has stated) or Luna first before anyone else). Snape and Dumbledore are also characters who we have sadly neglected to talk about in our fanwank, and they are in much better positions where they can effect changes and events in the plot much more believably than the majority of the childish dipshits in Hogwarts we've been talking about (yes, I feel icky for calling Snape anything other than childish, but it still needs to be said).
Sleep was something that Harry had discovered was not in much of a demand and it left him with time to prowl the corridors of the ancient school when lesser beings slept all nestled in their beds and dreamed of mornings to come.
A slight bit of motion drew his attention towards the floor and a almost bemused grin crossed his blood red lips.
"Hello Little Devil," he conceded to the diminutive creature before him.
Cats were marvelous creatures to observe as they hunted, especially the care they took after the chase was over that held such lessons for one such as he.
Mrs. Norris was an even more interesting creature, one that placed itself at almost his equal, though not quite as proven by the ease that students and faculty alike tended to vacate his location at their earliest convenience.
Of course there were exceptions.
Dumbledore seemed unphased by anything, and while he hadn't done anything blatant to get a reaction, anything short of a nuke could probably be underwhelming for the old man.
Then there was the double bit of chaos that seemed to delight in random chaos. The Weasleys seemed to create either ones that amused him or cowards who disappointed him. Of course the twins seeming immunity to him gave him the theory, after a mercifully brief encounter with their mother before boarding the train, that they may have some banshee or similar creature in their lineage.
However and unfortunately, it seemed that only three beings had so far showed some of the vaunted Gryffindor courage and amuse him in any way, and one of them seemed to have been quietly stalking him since the festivities of Halloween.
"Students in the..." Filch trailed off at the sight of just who was standing there before attaining a beautiful pallor that seemed a tad off of the color of freshly fallen snow.
"Now...now," Harry chuckled, "Did you really think I would waste a night like this?"
The gulp in response was audible.
Mrs Norris simply snorted at her master before turning back to the No Life King with a vaguely imperious gesture.
"No," the man in crimson stated as he slipped something from his pocket, "I hadn't forgotten about you, Little Devil."
A white mouse wriggled in his palm, something that would bemuse him as the cat played with it before boring with the game due to instinctive hunger. He'd taken it a step further for his own amusement by feeding the meal with catnip before storing it away.
Filch seemed to come to his senses as the mouse was released to his companion and the boy seemed to dissolve into the shadows as if he were a wraith save for the mocking laughter that echoed through the stone halls.
A slight bit of motion drew his attention towards the floor and a almost bemused grin crossed his blood red lips.
"Hello Little Devil," he conceded to the diminutive creature before him.
Cats were marvelous creatures to observe as they hunted, especially the care they took after the chase was over that held such lessons for one such as he.
Mrs. Norris was an even more interesting creature, one that placed itself at almost his equal, though not quite as proven by the ease that students and faculty alike tended to vacate his location at their earliest convenience.
Of course there were exceptions.
Dumbledore seemed unphased by anything, and while he hadn't done anything blatant to get a reaction, anything short of a nuke could probably be underwhelming for the old man.
Then there was the double bit of chaos that seemed to delight in random chaos. The Weasleys seemed to create either ones that amused him or cowards who disappointed him. Of course the twins seeming immunity to him gave him the theory, after a mercifully brief encounter with their mother before boarding the train, that they may have some banshee or similar creature in their lineage.
However and unfortunately, it seemed that only three beings had so far showed some of the vaunted Gryffindor courage and amuse him in any way, and one of them seemed to have been quietly stalking him since the festivities of Halloween.
"Students in the..." Filch trailed off at the sight of just who was standing there before attaining a beautiful pallor that seemed a tad off of the color of freshly fallen snow.
"Now...now," Harry chuckled, "Did you really think I would waste a night like this?"
The gulp in response was audible.
Mrs Norris simply snorted at her master before turning back to the No Life King with a vaguely imperious gesture.
"No," the man in crimson stated as he slipped something from his pocket, "I hadn't forgotten about you, Little Devil."
A white mouse wriggled in his palm, something that would bemuse him as the cat played with it before boring with the game due to instinctive hunger. He'd taken it a step further for his own amusement by feeding the meal with catnip before storing it away.
Filch seemed to come to his senses as the mouse was released to his companion and the boy seemed to dissolve into the shadows as if he were a wraith save for the mocking laughter that echoed through the stone halls.
The mirror gave him pause as he encountered it.
He'd encountered other mirrors, even ones that seemed to scream of their magic, but none such as this.
Harry couldn't be bothered by the inscription engraved around the frame, but he felt the power radiating.
Within its silvery reflection he could see little but himself.
Well, he was standing atop the castle against the blood moon.
Images flashed as hints of who and what he once was seemed to distort the figure before him.
The Dursleys untouched by the fire and death that had claimed them when he was to young to feel the loathing towards them that an older boy would have.
His eyes untouched by the blood red that was now their distinctive feature and absence of fangs.
Friends and family that was there for a moment as his hand slowly formed into a fist and shook twice before a lunatic smile crossed his lips.
His own grin matched the reflection for a mere moment before he drew back a hand a drove it through the relic that lay before him, feeling the momentary pain of shattered glass, a familiar sensation from the night when he faced the shade within the castle.
Then there was darkness as if the magical lights that provided illumination for the small chamber went out by the sheer power released.
It took a moment before light once more touched the fragments, revealing nothing but the back of the No Life King as he exited the chamber much as he had entered.
He'd encountered other mirrors, even ones that seemed to scream of their magic, but none such as this.
Harry couldn't be bothered by the inscription engraved around the frame, but he felt the power radiating.
Within its silvery reflection he could see little but himself.
Well, he was standing atop the castle against the blood moon.
Images flashed as hints of who and what he once was seemed to distort the figure before him.
The Dursleys untouched by the fire and death that had claimed them when he was to young to feel the loathing towards them that an older boy would have.
His eyes untouched by the blood red that was now their distinctive feature and absence of fangs.
Friends and family that was there for a moment as his hand slowly formed into a fist and shook twice before a lunatic smile crossed his lips.
His own grin matched the reflection for a mere moment before he drew back a hand a drove it through the relic that lay before him, feeling the momentary pain of shattered glass, a familiar sensation from the night when he faced the shade within the castle.
Then there was darkness as if the magical lights that provided illumination for the small chamber went out by the sheer power released.
It took a moment before light once more touched the fragments, revealing nothing but the back of the No Life King as he exited the chamber much as he had entered.
Firenze watched the stars as all of his kin had since the night when spirits walked closer to the living world.
The radical changes in the night sky signaled confusion, something had the audacity and power to twist fate into a new path unlike the stars had sung their song of for countless generations of those watching their eternal dance across the night sky.
Something that haunted the corners of their sight was preying upon the inhabitants of the forest since shortly after that night, something that stayed far from the border upon the humans school.
The unicorns were being stalked, the same pattern that appeared amidst the stars before that night, one that was still twisting to fit the new order of the cosmos. Before only a few had fallen to the thing that was hunting them, but now it was becoming far to common to find one of their precious allies dead upon first light.
One of the foals had seen what had gotten a glimpse of what she described as a wraith as it tried to attack the youngest of the unicorn herd that had been granted sanctuary among their own.
As he watched the moon, the crimson traces upon pearl white gave him a clue as to what could help them in this dark time.
He had to find the new Prince in Crimson...
The radical changes in the night sky signaled confusion, something had the audacity and power to twist fate into a new path unlike the stars had sung their song of for countless generations of those watching their eternal dance across the night sky.
Something that haunted the corners of their sight was preying upon the inhabitants of the forest since shortly after that night, something that stayed far from the border upon the humans school.
The unicorns were being stalked, the same pattern that appeared amidst the stars before that night, one that was still twisting to fit the new order of the cosmos. Before only a few had fallen to the thing that was hunting them, but now it was becoming far to common to find one of their precious allies dead upon first light.
One of the foals had seen what had gotten a glimpse of what she described as a wraith as it tried to attack the youngest of the unicorn herd that had been granted sanctuary among their own.
As he watched the moon, the crimson traces upon pearl white gave him a clue as to what could help them in this dark time.
He had to find the new Prince in Crimson...
Gilderoy Lockheart was the perfect man, you just had to ask him. However, being this dashing, this handsome, this wonderful sometimes came with a harsh price.
To whit, he was spending this year teaching little brats to properly appreciate his magnificence. It was a tasking job. He had to rise at practically sunrise, hours ahead of his normal noon wakeup, to spend hours promoting his works.
Then he had to mark their attempts at writing, and deal with his fan mail. It gave him precious little free time. Certainly not enough to look for 'inspiration' for his next book.
Making his way into the classroom for his 2nd year Gryffindor/Slytherin class, he pondered what to teach them today about how magnificent he was.
"Alright class, despite a few hiccups" he was still slightly twitchy after that attempt to ask young Harry Potter to play the werewolf for a re-enactment "We will be dealing with Vampires. Specifically, how I delt with the Vampires of Vladivostok. I will of course, need someone to play the vampire."
He cast his eye across the classroom for someone to play the role and froze as he made eye contact with Harry Potter. For an endless moment, he froze as he saw the inhuman amusement and sheer horrifying contempt in the red eyes. Shaking himself free of the almost bowel loosening fear he felt, he paused, then considering the werewolf incident, made possibly the safest desicion he could.
"I'd like you to read the relevant chapters in my book and then we will be having a small quiz."
Yes, that was far safer.
Cheers
Finbar
To whit, he was spending this year teaching little brats to properly appreciate his magnificence. It was a tasking job. He had to rise at practically sunrise, hours ahead of his normal noon wakeup, to spend hours promoting his works.
Then he had to mark their attempts at writing, and deal with his fan mail. It gave him precious little free time. Certainly not enough to look for 'inspiration' for his next book.
Making his way into the classroom for his 2nd year Gryffindor/Slytherin class, he pondered what to teach them today about how magnificent he was.
"Alright class, despite a few hiccups" he was still slightly twitchy after that attempt to ask young Harry Potter to play the werewolf for a re-enactment "We will be dealing with Vampires. Specifically, how I delt with the Vampires of Vladivostok. I will of course, need someone to play the vampire."
He cast his eye across the classroom for someone to play the role and froze as he made eye contact with Harry Potter. For an endless moment, he froze as he saw the inhuman amusement and sheer horrifying contempt in the red eyes. Shaking himself free of the almost bowel loosening fear he felt, he paused, then considering the werewolf incident, made possibly the safest desicion he could.
"I'd like you to read the relevant chapters in my book and then we will be having a small quiz."
Yes, that was far safer.
Cheers
Finbar
Eyes that seemed but pools of blood and hellfire bore down upon the centaur as the unholy creature in the form of a mere child grinned.
Unlike the countless wizard and witch students of Hogwarts he had observed over the years, this one did not have the bearing of one, nor did he have the same as an adult.
Body language was a large portion of the so called language that the centaurs could be said to speak, a trait from their observant natures some would say, but this one didn't fit any of what he knew of humans or other creatures.
Unlike humans, centaurs rarely remained in the same place their entire life. After leaving their childhood behind, a centaur would be sent to one of the other herds as a way to keep each group connected to one another which led to wider ranges of experience than, he had learned, the magical human population.
Firenzie originally hailed from a herd in Greece, the ancestral home of his kind as were, a smaller one that also lived beside a school, though one more combined with the smaller local population.
Records from the time of legends spoke of the stars dancing at a time when something special would happen.
Chiron himself had penned such things so long ago.
"Do you understand what you ask of me?" the young Prince asked, a voice almost taunting and yet, to him speaking of the legends of those far more than human that once walked the world of man and beast.
Unlike the countless wizard and witch students of Hogwarts he had observed over the years, this one did not have the bearing of one, nor did he have the same as an adult.
Body language was a large portion of the so called language that the centaurs could be said to speak, a trait from their observant natures some would say, but this one didn't fit any of what he knew of humans or other creatures.
Unlike humans, centaurs rarely remained in the same place their entire life. After leaving their childhood behind, a centaur would be sent to one of the other herds as a way to keep each group connected to one another which led to wider ranges of experience than, he had learned, the magical human population.
Firenzie originally hailed from a herd in Greece, the ancestral home of his kind as were, a smaller one that also lived beside a school, though one more combined with the smaller local population.
Records from the time of legends spoke of the stars dancing at a time when something special would happen.
Chiron himself had penned such things so long ago.
"Do you understand what you ask of me?" the young Prince asked, a voice almost taunting and yet, to him speaking of the legends of those far more than human that once walked the world of man and beast.
Lucius Malfoy grimly adjusted his robe before glancing at his wife before setting aside the small flask that he'd drained dry only moments before.
Narcissa was still sleeping as he prepared for what must be done, hiding the fear behind the mask he had maintained for over a decade with what to others must appear to be an almost cold indifference.
There were some oaths that he would not, nay could not, break no matter the cost it might have. He had no doubt that there would be no return from this...
...This insanity that the Lord he had sworn himself to threw himself in his foolishness.
He had managed to avoid the confrontation in the Graveyard and the later massacre that came to London.
However, he had seen the results with his own eyes, something that he would otherwise have been incapable of comprehending and still felt a tinge of doubt towards the reality of those events.
Lord Voldemort had spoken of his belief in what was happening.
Every year those descended from the impure grew in numbers as more and more of their spawn entered the sacred halls of Hogwarts while the purebloods seemed to remain static at best with the losses that last war created reducing their numbers for a time.
It was a threat to their life, to everything they held dear.
The mudbloods, descendants of those who long ago attempted to stomp out magic were now winning in a different way.
He once believed in that cause, and in fact still did, but that belief was matched by another.
When he met that thing that walked in the form of a child just a few years ago, he had felt something he'd never felt before rending his thoughts with icy talons.
Now, all hands were called to face that thing that others might call a boy if they had never encountered such an abomination, much less met the gaze that seemed but as pools of freshly spilled blood.
Reaching down he picked his mask from its place upon his dresser and turned to his wife, allowing himself but a moment to experience what would be one last moment of humanity as his fingers traced her jawline before he was gone from the room.
A brief motion brought him pause as he reached for the floo powder in the dressing room and then he felt his body seize up before he fell and let the cold dark take his conscious thoughts away, but one word escaped his lips, barely audible over the clatter of the mask falling to the stonework.
"Draco?"
The one in question turned away from the form of his father as he returned to his room.
"I'm sorry father," he commented in an almost wistful tone, "I know what you were planning, but I know who you would be up against."
A pause as his hand moved sharply in a spell to put the open flame upon that hearth out.
"I will not let your choices damn me, nor mother."
Narcissa was still sleeping as he prepared for what must be done, hiding the fear behind the mask he had maintained for over a decade with what to others must appear to be an almost cold indifference.
There were some oaths that he would not, nay could not, break no matter the cost it might have. He had no doubt that there would be no return from this...
...This insanity that the Lord he had sworn himself to threw himself in his foolishness.
He had managed to avoid the confrontation in the Graveyard and the later massacre that came to London.
However, he had seen the results with his own eyes, something that he would otherwise have been incapable of comprehending and still felt a tinge of doubt towards the reality of those events.
Lord Voldemort had spoken of his belief in what was happening.
Every year those descended from the impure grew in numbers as more and more of their spawn entered the sacred halls of Hogwarts while the purebloods seemed to remain static at best with the losses that last war created reducing their numbers for a time.
It was a threat to their life, to everything they held dear.
The mudbloods, descendants of those who long ago attempted to stomp out magic were now winning in a different way.
He once believed in that cause, and in fact still did, but that belief was matched by another.
When he met that thing that walked in the form of a child just a few years ago, he had felt something he'd never felt before rending his thoughts with icy talons.
Now, all hands were called to face that thing that others might call a boy if they had never encountered such an abomination, much less met the gaze that seemed but as pools of freshly spilled blood.
Reaching down he picked his mask from its place upon his dresser and turned to his wife, allowing himself but a moment to experience what would be one last moment of humanity as his fingers traced her jawline before he was gone from the room.
A brief motion brought him pause as he reached for the floo powder in the dressing room and then he felt his body seize up before he fell and let the cold dark take his conscious thoughts away, but one word escaped his lips, barely audible over the clatter of the mask falling to the stonework.
"Draco?"
The one in question turned away from the form of his father as he returned to his room.
"I'm sorry father," he commented in an almost wistful tone, "I know what you were planning, but I know who you would be up against."
A pause as his hand moved sharply in a spell to put the open flame upon that hearth out.
"I will not let your choices damn me, nor mother."
I didn't want to keep the brat that pops up in the books, he wouldn't survive very long unless he realized that he needed to at least shut up or face what comes from not doing so.
Gives me the idea that canon Hogwarts is the source of all the WW's problems because the kids don't need to grow up and thus retain a lot of the childish behavior that would get you in trouble. Few of the things that should have gotten the characters in any sort of trouble did, and when it did they were essentially told it was a fluke they did (While what was punished was things that shouldn't have...)
Gives me the idea that canon Hogwarts is the source of all the WW's problems because the kids don't need to grow up and thus retain a lot of the childish behavior that would get you in trouble. Few of the things that should have gotten the characters in any sort of trouble did, and when it did they were essentially told it was a fluke they did (While what was punished was things that shouldn't have...)
If it had been any other forest, it would have been deadly silent. However, this one had been the site of far to much in the way of magics oddities to let something unusual disturb its workings, much less something that seemed to view it as almost beneath its notice.
He could hear everything as the measured and even steps he took through the woods carried him with a unnerving grace. The Centaur had told him of this part of the forest, and the lack of life among the foliage told him far more than the inhabitants had.
Harry reacted in a flash to the skittering, pistol free in a blur of motion without even turning to look.
"So not all of your colony fled," he stated at the creature that stumbled to a halt, weapon pointed dead center of the acromantulas head, "Or were you simply trapped?"
The arachnid froze at the being before it, unsure how it was supposed to answer.
"You are not my prey," Harry spoke slowly, turning slowly to observe the creature, crimson eyes flashing in the pale moonlight trickling through the leaves in patches, one that the beast realized this man-thing was standing directly under.
He could hear everything as the measured and even steps he took through the woods carried him with a unnerving grace. The Centaur had told him of this part of the forest, and the lack of life among the foliage told him far more than the inhabitants had.
Harry reacted in a flash to the skittering, pistol free in a blur of motion without even turning to look.
"So not all of your colony fled," he stated at the creature that stumbled to a halt, weapon pointed dead center of the acromantulas head, "Or were you simply trapped?"
The arachnid froze at the being before it, unsure how it was supposed to answer.
"You are not my prey," Harry spoke slowly, turning slowly to observe the creature, crimson eyes flashing in the pale moonlight trickling through the leaves in patches, one that the beast realized this man-thing was standing directly under.
i'd really like to see some of the outside worlds reaction to harry, specifically the vampire community or communities, depending on the number of various species that you happen to allow into your world.
afterall, each year harry has quite a bit of time off to cause untold havoc, chaos, callamity, destruction etc....... something that could be quite interestin to read.
afterall, each year harry has quite a bit of time off to cause untold havoc, chaos, callamity, destruction etc....... something that could be quite interestin to read.