Harry Potter: I am the Legend

Inside the elevator, the vampire lay collapsed on the floor, eyes rolled back and frothing at the mouth.

Hoffa stood up, frustrated. He had uncovered the conspiracy of the vampire city and even learned the timing of the sacrificial ritual. But the exact location eluded him, leaving him deeply troubled. He needed to find the site to rescue the nun, preferably before the ritual took place. However, the vampire had fainted, and interrogating another one would take precious time he couldn't afford to lose.

What should he do now?

He slapped the vampire's face hard, but there was no reaction—it was no different from hitting a corpse.

Ryan quickly grabbed Hoffa's arm and urged, "Don't be so rough."

"I think it's faking unconsciousness," Hoffa replied. "This was just a truth serum, not a sedative."

Skeptical, he lifted his foot to test his theory.

Ryan panicked. "I know the truth serum's formula better than you! Sri Lankan vulture bile, Berloch moss, half-ear grass buds, Icelandic Yuri stalactite shards, ferret heart tendons, clear water, and so on. Except for water, every ingredient is toxic!"

Reluctantly, Hoffa lowered his foot. "Why are you so worried?"

"You're a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin—don't be so cruel," Ryan admonished. "We need to leave. The elevator's been stuck for too long, and if we don't move, someone might notice something's wrong."

Hoffa didn't argue. Together, they tossed the limp vampire back into the food cart. With a quick spell, the elevator gears returned to normal, and it slowly descended.

The overly quiet hotel gave no hint of their activity. After changing into fresh clothes, they stuffed the vampire into a large bag and discreetly returned to Ryan's small apartment using a Disillusionment Charm.

At the apartment, Ryan laid the female vampire on the bed and secured her hands and feet with a binding spell. He had carried her all the way back himself. While Ryan worked, Hoffa sat watching, observing him pull the vampire's arm away from the sunlight streaming in, placing it into the shadows. (The pale arm, where the sun had touched it, now bore smoking red burns.) Despite her injuries, the vampire showed no sign of waking. Ryan then closed the curtains.

Once finished, Hoffa asked, "Do you know how to deal with vampires?"

"Deal with them?" Ryan froze. "What do you mean?"

"I've never handled one before. Should we cut off her head, use mercury bullets, a cross, or just burn her to ashes?" Hoffa asked bluntly.

Ryan gasped. "Merlin's beard! What's happened to you? Are you really the Ravenclaw I know?"

"What's there to doubt?" Hoffa responded casually. "She's not human anymore. And even if she were, she'd face the death penalty in the Wizengamot for killing so many Muggles. So what's the difference between sooner or later?"

"That's not for us to decide," Ryan insisted, his brow furrowing. "She deserves a fair trial. It's her basic right—we can't deny her that."

"Only to be burned after the trial?" Hoffa raised an eyebrow.

"If that's the outcome, then it's what she deserves," Ryan replied firmly, even positioning himself protectively in front of the bed as if afraid Hoffa would suddenly decapitate the vampire. Hoffa, however, made no move. His mind wandered to Chloe, his eyes flicking between Ryan and the unconscious vampire.

After a moment of silence, Hoffa relented. "I'll go find the site where tonight's ritual might take place. You stay here and watch her—don't let her escape."

"What?!" Ryan stood up abruptly. "We agreed to search together!"

"Someone has to guard her if you're unwilling to kill her," Hoffa explained with a shrug. "If she wakes up and escapes, bringing back an army of vampires, we're done for."

"But... but..." Ryan stammered, glancing at the unconscious vampire. From this angle, he could even catch a glimpse of her black undergarments beneath her pale legs. Embarrassed, he turned his head quickly. "No, you need to stay with me."

"Why?" Hoffa asked, puzzled.

"I'm scared… scared she'll wake up and drain my blood," Ryan admitted in a quick, stammering burst.

"Ah, so that's it." Hoffa patted his shoulder reassuringly. "No need to worry."

With a flick of his finger, the red binding spell on the vampire's hands transformed into heavy, gleaming chains.

After the transformation, Hoffa blew on his fingertip, producing a small silver key. He handed it to Ryan. "Relax. Unless you willingly unlock her, she can't break free from my transfiguration chains."

Ryan stared at the key, still hesitant. But before he could protest further, Hoffa clapped him on the shoulder and said, "I'm counting on you."

With that, Hoffa leaped out of the window.

Startled, Ryan dashed to the window, but all he saw were the fluttering laundry and bedsheets of the lower-floor residents—Hoffa was nowhere in sight.

Standing on the high balcony, Ryan slowly withdrew. He looked at the key in his hand and muttered, "Damn it, you really didn't waste any time."

As the setting sun's rays hit his face, Ryan squinted, realizing the curtains were still open. He quickly turned around to close them.

The scene shifted abruptly.

The vampire, who had been lying like a corpse on the bed, was now silently sitting in the corner, knees hugged to her chest. Her face was deathly pale, her lips devoid of color. Her gaze, stripped of pretense, was filled with chilling, murderous intent.

The sudden eerie presence mirrored a scene straight out of a horror film. Startled, Ryan stumbled backward, knocking into the curtains. Golden sunlight streamed in, hitting the vampire's foot. Her skin instantly sizzled, swelling and smoking like it had been branded.

"Hiss!"

She writhed in pain, trying to retreat, but the small apartment left her no space to escape.

Realizing what was happening, Ryan hurriedly drew the curtains, plunging the room into dimness.

Without sunlight, the burns on the vampire's foot quickly scabbed over and healed. She panted heavily, glaring at Ryan with unrelenting intensity.

"Well, you're awake," Ryan said awkwardly, raising a hand in a tentative greeting. Almost immediately, he regretted it. She was, after all, a ruthless killer. If Hoffa were here, he'd never treat her kindly.

Determined, Ryan hardened his expression, sitting at the farthest corner to maintain his distance.

"Were you pretending to sleep?" he asked.

"I was afraid of dying. Is that wrong?" the vampire rasped. Her voice was rough, like resin under the scorching sun, a far cry from its previous melodious tone.

"I'm thirsty. Very thirsty."

Ryan immediately drew his wand, alert. "Don't even think about it. I'm not giving you any blood to drink."

"Are you stupid?" she snapped. "Do you think I can only drink blood?"

Ryan blinked, confused. "You can drink something else?"

"Such ignorant prejudice," she sneered. "Do you eat food all day long? Even bats eat insects and fruit. Do you think I do nothing but feed every waking moment?"

"Then… what do you want to drink?" he asked warily.

"Water," the vampire replied.

Water? Ryan hesitated, then conjured a glass. "Aguamenti."

"I don't drink conjured water," she interrupted angrily. "Can't you just pour me a glass?"

Caught off guard, Ryan sighed, pocketed his wand, and went to the tap. Filling a glass with water, he brought it to the bed.

The vampire struggled against her chains, the metal clinking as she moved. She leaned back against the wall, panting, and raised her hand. "What, you expect me to grab it myself?"

Ryan stared at her without moving.

The woman sneered, "I thought wizards would have more courage. Turns out, you're all cowards."

Ryan hesitated, then stepped forward on the edge of his bed, supporting the vampire's back with one hand and holding the glass with the other. Kneeling on the bed, he brought the glass to her lips. The vampire wrapped her lips around the rim and drank greedily, her eyes rolling upward to meet Ryan's.

After a brief moment of eye contact, Ryan simply closed his eyes.

The drinking seemed to take an eternity, and when Ryan thought the glass was finally empty, he opened his eyes. To his surprise, the vampire was staring at him with an amused expression.

"Are you feeding my mouth or my chest?" Her voice, now crisp and melodious, carried a hint of mockery.

Ryan blinked, realizing he had poured the water too quickly. Much of it had spilled down her chin, flowing along her collarbone and into the valley of her chest.

The sight of her soaked and partially revealed chest made Ryan's face flush instantly. In his fluster, he quickly dropped the glass and grabbed a pillowcase, clumsily wiping her chin.

"Easy! That hurts," the vampire protested lightly, her tone more exasperated than angry.

"Sorry," Ryan apologized, conjuring a handkerchief with his wand. He carefully wiped her mouth and neck, trying to focus on the task while avoiding looking at her too closely. Yet, he could feel her eyes locked on him the entire time.

Having been in Bournemouth for so long, Ryan had encountered countless vampires, including many strikingly beautiful women. He thought he'd grown immune to their charms. But this one, somehow, was different—a nemesis of sorts, making his heart race with just a glance.

"I thought you were unconscious from the truth serum," he said slowly.

"If I had spilled everything to your friend, he'd have killed me in a heartbeat," the vampire chuckled, her laughter tinged with resignation. "Well, it seems I was too careless this time, falling into a wizard's hands."

After a moment's pause, she leaned closer to Ryan and whispered, "What if I told you... would you secretly let me go?"

Ryan shook his head, standing to retrieve the glass. "Sorry, I can't release you. As you can see, you're already captured. I'm only doing this to respect your basic rights."

The vampire sneered, "Spare me your sanctimony. Wizards are hypocritical scum. My father always told me that, and now I see he was right. Your gray-haired friend is much smarter—he never intended to let me live from the start."

"He's a Ravenclaw," Ryan replied calmly. "Being smart is expected. But I'd advise you not to provoke him. It took a lot of convincing to stop him from killing you."

"Why not kill me?" The vampire smirked. "When my father finds you, your end will be miserable."

"I believe you need to face trial and confess your crimes. And for the events in Bournemouth, we need a witness—Miss Bowman," Ryan replied with determination.

"Keep dreaming," the vampire scoffed. "By tonight, you'll all be dead. See the moon in the sky? You won't live to see tomorrow's sun."

She threatened, her tone icy and cruel, "Release me now, and I might consider turning you into my blood servant. Under my protection, you could scrape by after the Blood Moon rises. Refuse, and don't blame me for being ruthless."

"We'll stop your father's so-called plans and restore this city to sunlight," Ryan said firmly, undeterred. "We'll make it happen, Miss Bowman."

"Shut up! Don't call me by that name!"

Ryan clamped his mouth shut, putting the glass away and tending to his owl. The owl stretched lazily, rotated its head a full 180 degrees, then back, pecking at his fingers.

"What should I do, Molly?" Ryan muttered, barely audible. "Hogwarts feels so far away without Floo powder or pumpkin pasties. You miss it too, don't you?"

Feeding the owl and speaking softly to it, he occasionally received a low hoot in response.

Barely three minutes later, the vampire called out to him.

"Hey, what's your name?"

"Ryan Garrison," he answered without turning.

The vampire chuckled, "I don't care about your name. I meant your owl's name."

Ryan sighed, "Molly."

"She's cute."

"Isn't she? She's been with me for seven years, a gift from my family when I started school," Ryan said affectionately, leaning close to the owl, who promptly pecked him.

"You wizards are so strange—befriending owls."

"Some even befriend rats. To Hufflepuffs, every creature has a soul and deserves respect," Ryan replied.

The vampire fell silent. After a while, she suddenly spoke again, "You and that gray-haired guy are different. If I recall correctly, he dropped out of your school, right?"

"Yes, many people know that."

"You know," the vampire began, "I've seen countless men. I probably understand your friend better than you do."

"Oh?" Ryan turned, intrigued. "You know him better than I do?"

"Of course. What kind of person do you think he is?"

"He's a good man, without a doubt," Ryan declared confidently.

The vampire snorted, "Laughable, Ryan. People change. From where I stand, he's already fallen—addicted to violence and killing."

"How dare you say that," Ryan scoffed. "And don't think you can manipulate me just because I'm patient. I won't be swayed."

"Fine, come here," the vampire said, lifting her chained hand and beckoning with her finger, the chains clinking softly.

"What for?" Ryan asked warily, staying by his owl. "I've already given you water."

"I want to tell you a story," the vampire said, her eyes narrowing with sly amusement.

Despite himself, Ryan found his legs moving toward the bed. The vampire dragged her chained legs with effort, scooting to the edge. She patted the bed beside her, smiling mischievously.

Ryan hesitated for a moment but eventually sat down.

"To be honest, I didn't choose to become like this on my own. Thirty years ago, I was about your age and attended a school called Germes Academy. Have you heard of it?"

Ryan shook his head. Coming from a traditional wizarding background, he knew nothing about Muggle high schools.

The vampire's face took on a nostalgic expression. "Back then, it was an all-boys school, but it transitioned into a co-ed high school. We were the first group of girls to be transferred in. Many people liked me, but most were just trying to flatter me—it was boring. Only one boy caught my attention. After a party, he and I..."

She raised her hand, forming a circle with her fingers and making a gesture of inserting something into it. "You get what I mean?"

Ryan turned his head away. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Didn't your school have this kind of thing?" the vampire asked curiously.

"Of course not!" Ryan huffed. Suddenly, a sense of pride filled him, and he lifted his chin. "We're wizards. Pursuing the deepest mysteries of magic is our duty. Even if there's mutual affection, we restrain ourselves. None of those messy entanglements!"

"Look at you gloating," the vampire scoffed, dismissing him. "If that gray-haired guy said this, I might believe him. But you? You don't know a thing."

Ryan was startled. "Why?"

The vampire ignored his question and continued, "At the time, I was ignorant and naive. My family didn't keep a strict eye on me, and I was rebellious. One thing led to another, and I ended up pregnant with that scumbag's child. When I found out, I was terrified. I immediately sought him out and asked what we should do. He assured me everything would be fine, that he'd take responsibility.

And I believed him.

But not long after, he started bragging to his friends about how he got the school's most popular girl pregnant."

The vampire let out a cold laugh. "Then, guess what? Those girls who used to call me their sister turned into devils. They began calling me a slut and a whore behind my back. They spat in my food and tore at my hair while I slept. I still remember the girl I was closest to stole my underwear after I showered, hung it at the school gate, and wrote two huge words on it: 'BITCH!' She did it because she liked the guy I was with, but he wasn't interested in her. Jealousy."

She raised her head and asked Ryan, "Have you ever experienced anything like this, Wizard Ryan?"

Ryan didn't expect the vampire to confide in him. He didn't know how to respond and could only shake his head.

"Things spiraled out of control. Everyone saw me as a whore, someone any man could have. During the day, the boys ogled me; at night, they became beasts, climbing into the girls' dorms. My roommates helped them vent their desires. The guy I was with was so scared he transferred schools, leaving me in hell, alone, to be trampled on."

Ryan shivered. "Didn't anyone intervene? Why didn't you go to the police?"

"That's why I say you know nothing." The vampire sighed.

"Unable to endure it anymore, three months later, I went to the rocks by the sea in Bournemouth. I slit open my belly and used my blood—and my child's—to carve a curse. I cursed them all to die miserably.

When I woke up, I was in my father's arms. He told me, 'The filth of the world cannot be contained by the daylight; only the night can shroud its ugliness.'

Then he gave me his blood, granting me my first embrace.

After my rebirth, I returned to the academy. When night fell, I killed them all—teachers, students, administrators—leaving no one alive.

At midnight, I found the boy who started it all. He was at a new school with a new lover. I drained him dry. It was my first time drinking blood. I trembled and vomited for days. But eventually, I got used to it. Little by little, I even began to enjoy it—enjoy the process, enjoy my body that could no longer bear children."

By the time she finished her story, the sun outside had set, and a bright, full moon rose over the horizon. The somber tale left Ryan silent, sitting motionless like a monk in meditation, staring at his toes.

The vampire slid closer, leaning against Ryan's arm. "You don't need to pity me, but you must admit, this transformation is alluring, isn't it, Ryan?" Her tone softened. "It's because I see so much of myself in that gray-haired guy that I said those things. He has a similar aura—he knows he can't change the world, so he chooses to enjoy it. Enjoy the thrill, the violence, the recklessness... letting himself drift without care for consequences."

"He's not like that," Ryan said, shaking his head.

"You haven't seen him enough times, have you?" she countered.

"He's not like that," Ryan insisted bitterly. "Miss Bowman, the world isn't entirely what you think it is—"

The vampire abruptly kissed him, silencing his words.

The sudden gesture caught Ryan off guard, and he instinctively opened his mouth. Three seconds later, he turned his head and pushed her away. "What are you doing?"

"If even an owl can be loved, why not me?" she said, leaning in for another kiss.

Ryan panicked. This time, he resisted for ten seconds before finally breaking free, gasping. "Are you trying to drink my blood?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I quite like you." In the dark, the woman caressed Ryan's cheek. "You're different. You don't see me as a monster. I won't drink your blood."

"Miss Bowman—"

"Call me Jillia, if you must use my name."

"Jillia..."

"What is it now?" she asked softly, her head bowed.

"You... you're so cold." Ryan blushed furiously, his voice trembling with nervousness.

"It's okay. You're warm."

The vampire laughed as she wriggled her bound wrists free, wrapping them around Ryan's neck and pinning him to the floor.

This time, Ryan didn't resist. At some point, he had become captivated by this dangerous yet mesmerizing creature—a desire as sharp as a Damascus blade, slicing through him with an exquisite agony.

Clouds drifted across the sky, concealing the moon. When the moonlight shyly peeked out again, the bed was empty, its sheets in disarray. In the shadowed corner of the room, two entwined figures moved with abandon.

Meanwhile, outside the building, Hoffa sat atop a vent pipe on the roof, his legs dangling freely. The wind tousled his hair as he gazed at the rising moon, a flicker of pain and struggle crossing his face before giving way to calm indifference.

Time passed—maybe half an hour, maybe more.

Inside the dark room, the noise subsided, leaving only soft breaths, mingling fear and relief.

"How old are you?" a gentle voice murmured in the darkness.

"Seventeen."

"Then am I breaking the law?" she teased, flicking his lips playfully with her finger.

Ryan's expression grew dazed for a moment. He tried to stand, only to be pulled back down by Jillia, who cradled his head and whispered, "Let me go. Come with me."

"Don't force me. I can't," Ryan rasped, his voice hoarse. He clung to her pale body, burying his face in her chest.

"This country is doomed," Jillia said, stroking his hair. "Trust me, no one can save it. My father's power is beyond imagination." After a pause, she added, "Come with me. We'll be happy together, Ryan." She bit his ear softly.

"No... I have to take you to the Wizengamot. I have to..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

Jillia pushed him away. "Do you want me to die?"

Under the moonlight, she smiled—a heartbreakingly beautiful smile. "If so, I'd rather die by your hand. It'd be less painful. Just a bit of poison or a stab to the heart."

Ryan turned his head, his expression changing multiple times before he sighed bitterly. "If I let you go, will you stop drinking blood?"

Jillia shook her head. "I won't lie to you, Ryan. I must drink blood—it's my nature, just like being drawn to you is my nature. It's fate; I can't fight it."

Ryan clutched his hair in torment.

Jillia embraced him, holding his face. "But I can promise not to kill my prey anymore. From now on."

"Really?" Ryan looked at her with pain in his eyes.

Her answer was a deep, lingering kiss.

When their lips parted, the shackles on Jillia's wrists and ankles quietly unlocked.

Ryan put away the key, stumbling back a few steps, his face pale as paper. "Go... before I change my mind."

"No. You're coming with me."

Jillia grabbed his arm firmly. "Trust me. When your friend returns, he won't spare you."

"He won't. We're from the same school. He won't hurt me. Now go."

"You're so naive! I've told you—people change." Jillia stamped her foot. "He's not who you think he is. Have you looked into his eyes? They hold nothing but his goals. If you stand in his way, he'll kill you too."

"He... he won't," Ryan insisted through gritted teeth.

"Are you even on the same path as him? I bet your goals are different, aren't they?"

Ryan fell silent.

Jillia tugged his arm. "Please, my dear. Come with me. I don't have much time. I must make it to my father's gathering, or I'll be punished."

Ryan stood frozen, as still as a statue.

"Come on," Jillia murmured with a helpless smile, kissing him. "At least walk me out. Don't let me feel like a service girl leaving after a job."

Ryan's voice was barely audible. "Just to see you off."

"Just to see me off," she repeated.

(End of Chapter)

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