Author's Notes: A late Christmas gift to Master of the Boot, as a way to say thank you for writing so many fics that make me laugh, by reposting a fic that brings you so much happiness. ^^

Disclaimer: Hellsing belongs to Kohta Hirano and Peter Pan belongs to Great Ormond Street Hospital, given to them by the author J.M. Barrie.

All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Integra knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for the woman put her hand to her heart and cried, "Oh, why can't you remain like this for ever!" This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Integra knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.

Indeed, two was the beginning of the end for Integra, for after that her mother disappeared from her life forever, and her father, who until then had nothing to do with her, suddenly started bringing Integra into his study; where he taught her everything, from manners to mathematics, and over-all trained her on how to be the best possible grown up she could be.

This did not sit too well with the nurses, who could not abide by Integra's "unusual, unnatural, and in all other ways nonconformist" upbringing, and they let Sir Hellsing know of their disapproval continually.

"You are ruining her chances!" they would cry, "Who will want Integra now that she knows science but cannot darn a sock?"

"My dear woman," Sir Hellsing would say, to whomever it may concern. "Integra can do far greater good as the head of this family than as a simpering wife to someone else's family, just as Queen Elizabeth did for our country in the sixteenth century and Queen Victoria in this one. If some gentleman can accompany Integra in this task then let him do so, but otherwise let her do without him. Integra is nobody's broodmare."

Needless to say, the female staff began to quit one by one, until Hellsing Manor consisted only of men servants. Soon no nurse or governess could be prevailed to set foot within the grounds, no matter how much money was offered.

This was all quite well with Integra, who never got along with any of the nurses, and even grew to despise their light talk. Sir Hellsing loved to have everything just so, and the nurse's ceaseless injuries and badgering put everything quite out of order; but his brother Richard had a passion for being exactly like his neighbours; so, of course, they had to have a nurse.

As they were strange, owing to Integra's upbringing, this nurse was an immense albino dog, called Captain, who had belonged to no one in particular until the Hellsings engaged him. Where and how he became acquainted with the Hellsings was a mystery to all but Sir Hellsing himself, and he refused to disclose this secret to anyone, no matter how much his brother and daughter begged. But Integra had a feeling the Captain had been around all along, for he always looked at Integra as if he could remember her birth as if it were exactly the day before. And when Integra squinted, she could almost remember a time when she spent most of her spare time peeping up at him from her perambulators, and he was much hated by careless nursemaids, whom he followed to the nursery and was complained of to their master.

He had always thought Integra important, and proved to be quite a treasure of a nurse. How thorough he was at bath-time, and up at any moment of the night if his charge made the slightest cry. Of course his kennel was in the nursery. He had a genius for knowing when a cough is a thing to have no patience with and when it needs stocking around your throat. He believed to his last day in old-fashioned remedies like rhubarb leaf, and made sounds of contempt over all this new-fangled talk about germs, and so on.

It was a lesson in propriety to see him escorting Integra to her father's study, walking sedately by her side when she was well behaved, and butting her back into line if she ever slowed or strayed. Like any gentleman he always carried Integra's things for her, slipping it gently into her hand once they reached their destination. On outings he never once forgot Integra's sweater, and he usually carried an umbrella in his mouth in case of rain.

There is a section of the Hellsing Manor where the servants live. They sat on forms, while the Captain lay on the floor, but that was the only difference. They affected to ignore him as of an inferior social status to themselves, and he despised their loud talk. He resented visits to the nursery from Sir Hellsing's business associates, but if they did come he first whipped off Integra's face and put her into the dress with blue braiding, smoothed it out and made a dash at her hair.

No nursery could possibly have been conducted more correctly, and Richard knew it, yet he sometimes wondered uneasily whether the neighbours talked.

He had his position in the city to consider.

The Captain also troubled him in another way. He had sometimes a feeling that he did not admire him. "I know he admires you tremendously, Uncle," Integra would assure him, and then she would sign to the Captain to be specially nice to Richard.

Once Integra's back was turned the white wolf would glare so intensely that his red eyes burned like Hell itself.

"Contemptible beast," Richard would sneer, "We would not have dogs for nurses if I was head of the family."

To this the Captain would growl so ferociously that Richard would start, then trot back to Integra's side with a warning glare, as if to say, "If you were head of the family there would be no need of nurses, and I will not allow you to try anything with my ward."

Sir Hellsing and Integra were ignorant of these spats, and otherwise they were quite civil to each other.

Such was the life in the Hellsing family before the coming of Alucard.

He came with warning of course, as all natural disasters do, though surprisingly not to the persons involved.

Sir Irons first heard of Alucard when he was tidying up his friend's study. It is the nightly custom of every good friend to straighten his comrade's office and put things straight for next morning, repacking papers into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day.

Occasionally in his travels through his friend's papers Sir Irons found things he could not understand, and of these quite the most perplexing was the word Alucard. He knew of no Alucard, and yet he was here and there in Sir Hellsing's papers, while Integra's test scores began to be scrawled all over with him. The name stood out in bolder red letters than any of the other black words, and as Sir Irons gazed he felt that it had an oddly cocky appearance.

"Yes, he is rather cocky," Sir Hellsing admitted with regret. His friend had been questioning him.

"But who is he, my good man?"

"He is Alucard, you know, my friend."

At first Sir Irons did not know, but after thinking back into their childhood he just remembered an Alucard who was said to live with the dead. There were odd stories about him, as that when children died he went part of the way with them, so that they should not be frightened. He had believed in him at the time, but now that he was old and full of sense he quite doubted whether there was any such person.

"Besides," he said to Sir Hellsing, "he would be grown up by this time."

"Oh no, he isn't grown up," Sir Hellsing assured him confidently, "and he is just Integra's size." He meant that he was her size in both mind and body; he didn't know how he knew, he just knew it.

Sir Irons consulted Richard, but he rebuked the idea savagely. "Mark my words," he said, "it is some nonsense the Captain has been putting into their heads; just the sort of idea a dog would have!"

Old people have the strangest adventures without being troubled by them. For instance, they may remember to mention, a week after the event happened, that when they were in the wood they had met their dead father and had a game with him. It was in this casual way that Sir Irons one morning made a disquieting revelation. The Hellsing family seal, which was a red pentagram, had been painted in blood all over the nursery floor, which certainly was not there when Integra went to bed, and Sir Irons was puzzling over it when Sir Hellsing said with a tolerant smile:

"I do believe it is that Alucard again!"

"Whatever do you mean, Arthur?"

He explained in quite a matter-of-fact way that he thought Alucard sometimes came to the nursery in the night and sat on the foot of Integra's bed and played on his pipes to her. Unfortunately she never woke, so he didn't know how he knew, he just knew.

"What nonsense you talk, my friend. No one can get into the manor without knocking."

"I think he comes in by the window," he said.

"My good man, it is three floors up."

"How else could he get into the manor, my friend?"

It was quite true; the blood had been found dripping very near the window.

Sir Irons did not know what to think, for it all seemed so natural to Sir Hellsing that he could not dismiss it by saying he was mistaken.

"Does the child know?" he finally asked.

"Oh no," Sir Hellsing said cheerfully. "Integra quite over-looked the markings in her haste to get to lessons this morning, and the symbol shall be removed before she comes back to go to bed tonight. The Captain is in the yard with her right now, so she will not find out."

"My friend," Sir Irons cried, "why did you not tell me of this before?"

"I forgot," said Sir Hellsing lightly. He was in a hurry to get to his afternoon tea.

To Sir Irons further protests he would only say , "Leave it alone, and it will all blow over."

But it would not blow over, and soon the troublesome boy gave even Sir Hellsing quite a shock.

On the night we speak of Integra was once more in bed. It happened to be the Captain's evening off, and Sir Hellsing had read to her till she slid away into the land of sleep.

She was looking so safe and cosy that he allowed himself a small smile of affection and sat down tranquilly by the fire to rest his tired bones.

Sir Hellsing noticed that he became far too fatigued too often recently, and he sensed his time on Earth was reaching its close. This disturbed Sir Hellsing, for Integra was still a child, and had much to learn about becoming head of the family. Who would watch out for her? Surely the Captain could look after her well-being, but she would need to know how to run the household. Who could give her such guidence? Suddenly Sir Hellsing thought of Richard, and he was flooded with relief. Of course Richard would look after Integra. With that in mind, Sir Hellsing relaxed so much that he was able to sleep.

While he slept he had a dream. He dreamt that the Afterlife had come too near and that a strange boy had broken through from it. He did not alarm him, for he thought he had seen him before in the faces of many adults who have no children. Perhaps he is to be found in the faces children who have no parents also. But in his dream he had rent the film that obscures the Afterlife, and he saw Integra peeping through the gap.

The dream by itself would have been a trifle, but while he was dreaming the window of the nursery blew open, and a boy did drop on the floor. He was accompanied by a strange light, no bigger than your fist, which darted about the room like a living thing and I think it must have been this light that wakened Sir Hellsing.

He started up with a cry, and saw the boy, and somehow he knew at once that it was Alucard. He was a lovely boy, with hair black as the darkest night, skin pale as the first snow of the season, and eyes red as the freshest of spilled blood. But somehow the most entrancing thing about him was that he had all his first teeth. When he saw Sir Hellsing was a grown-up, he gnashed the little pearls at him.