Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince

It was the first weekend after the start of the school year.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape."

Two Hufflepuff girls, who had been chasing each other through the Entrance Hall, suddenly found themselves face-to-face with Severus Snape. The Potions Master moved like a storm, swift and silent, colliding almost directly with the two startled badgers.

The girls froze, trembling under Snape's icy gaze. They scrambled to greet him, their voices trembling with fear. The last thing they wanted was to anger the most terrifying professor at Hogwarts.

"If you have no business loitering, return to your common room," Snape snapped coldly, brushing past them. But after a few steps, he abruptly halted and turned his head slightly. "Where is Nolan Von Draugr?"

"He—he's at the Quidditch pitch! I saw him resting there!" one of the girls blurted out, still visibly shaken.

Snape's expression darkened. "That idiot. If Slytherin loses this year, I'll make sure he regrets it."

Like a black whirlwind, Snape disappeared down the corridor, leaving the two first-year Hufflepuffs to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

They had been terrified beyond belief.

…

At the Quidditch pitch, Snape's sharp eyes quickly found his target—Nolan.

But the scene before him wasn't quite what he expected.

Nolan wasn't flying on a broomstick, nor was he holding a Quaffle. Instead, the boy was lying lazily on the grass, head resting comfortably on Eve's lap. In his hands, he absentmindedly toyed with a colorful Muggle cube, twisting it back and forth as if nothing in the world concerned him.

"How long was that?" Nolan asked, pausing to glance at Eve.

The silver-haired girl peeked at a stopwatch. "Twenty-three seconds. A little faster than before~."

"Still not good enough…" Nolan muttered as he scrambled the cube once more.

Snape had no idea how the boy managed to solve the puzzle so quickly.

Frankly, he didn't care to know.

Snape had never indulged in anything resembling entertainment—not wizard's chess, not Exploding Snap. He found no time or interest in such trivialities.

"Nolan Von Draugr," Snape's voice cut through the peaceful afternoon like the crack of a whip, his shadow falling over the two students as he towered above them. "Finding you is always an ordeal."

He spoke swiftly, his lips barely moving, the way a predator might.

"If I were you, I wouldn't waste time fooling around with Stock," Snape added with a sharp glance at Eve. "I have what you asked for."

With a flick of his wrist, Snape tossed a vial onto Nolan's stomach. The liquid inside shimmered dark red in the light.

"This is the Noble Bloodline Elixir. I adjusted the formula—measured it for human tolerance. If you want the recipe, McGonagall has it."

Nolan sat up, catching the vial between his fingers with a look of admiration. "I didn't expect you to finish it so quickly… Professor Snape, you truly are a remarkable Potions Master."

Nolan understood better than most just how dangerous Noble Bloodline Elixir could be for ordinary people. For Snape to suppress its toxic effects with only common potion ingredients was nothing short of genius.

It was far beyond Nolan's current capabilities.

"Don't let a few parlor tricks make you think you understand potions, Von Draugr," Snape sneered. Without waiting for a response, he turned briskly, his robes billowing behind him as he strode away.

Perhaps Snape simply found the sight of the two of them too irritating.

Eve picked up the vial, holding it up to the sunlight. The liquid glowed, turning into vibrant crimson streaks as the light passed through. The faint metallic scent of blood wafted from the glass, even through the sealed stopper.

Carefully, Eve slipped the potion into Nolan's pocket. "What is this, exactly?"

"A potion that temporarily grants the powers of a vampire," Nolan explained casually, reclining once more. "It's useful for wizards looking to enhance their transformation magic. The only problem is the ingredients. Maybe we could ask Professor Flitwick to use a duplication charm?"

"I'm not sure…" Eve's voice trailed off uncertainly. "Duplication charms don't work well on magical items. Powerful wizards avoid using them too often… Something about conjuring too much value out of thin air."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to save it for special occasions," Nolan said with a grin, twisting the Muggle cube in his hands once again.

The two of them continued chatting, their posture undeniably intimate.

Eve knelt on the grass, stopwatch placed to the side, a thick notebook covered in labeled tabs resting over her lap. Nolan lay back, head cushioned comfortably on Eve's lap, one leg crossed over the other. It was the kind of closeness only seen between people in a very intimate relationship.

There were quite a few students relaxing around the Quidditch pitch that day. Many of them noticed the pair, but no one seemed particularly surprised. After all, everyone knew Nolan was fond of Slytherin's Stock and Ravenclaw's Chang. Maybe he and Eve were already dating—young couples at Hogwarts weren't exactly rare.

Then, a thin, scruffy boy appeared, shuffling over hesitantly.

He gave Eve a small nod—after all, they'd met once before on the first of August—then turned his attention to Nolan.

"Hi, Nolan. It's been… a month, hasn't it?"

"Potter."

Nolan sat up, tousling his flattened hair until it fluffed back into place. He offered Harry a casual smile.

"Congratulations on getting into Hogwarts. It looks like Gryffindor suits you."

"I…"

Harry's eyes darted nervously like a startled fawn. He hesitated, staring down at the grass before finally mumbling, "I'm sorry I didn't end up in Slytherin."

"What's there to apologize for?" Nolan raised an eyebrow.

"But the Sorting Hat said I should be!" Harry's voice suddenly shot up, frustration breaking through his normally timid tone. "I don't know why it said that, but it kept insisting I belonged in Slytherin…"

Nolan let out a soft sigh. This was the kind of youthful worry he found particularly tedious—something that felt earth-shattering at eleven but ultimately didn't matter at all.

"But in the end, the Hat placed you in Gryffindor," Nolan reminded him gently.

"That's because I asked it to…" Harry admitted, biting his lip. "Everyone said Slytherin was bad—that it was the worst house. But I knew that wasn't true. You're in Slytherin, Nolan. How could it be bad?"

Nolan sighed again, this time a little deeper.

"Listen, Potter," he said quietly. "Maybe you think I helped you once, but that was just me doing Dumbledore a favor. You don't owe me anything, and I don't mind being seen as the villain. Slytherin is full of selfish, arrogant brats. I'm one of them."

Harry looked even more deflated, shoulders slumping.

"Alright…" he murmured. Maybe Nolan had been his first friend in the wizarding world, but it seemed that even at Hogwarts, Nolan remained distant.

Harry lingered for a moment longer, then turned and made his way back toward the castle.

Once he was out of sight, Eve chuckled softly.

"I think the Boy Who Lived has a bit of a crush on you, Nolan."

The young vampire visibly shuddered, his breath catching for a second.

"That's impossible," he said flatly, lying back down. He quickly resumed twisting the puzzle cube in his hands. Within moments, the colors were perfectly aligned once more.

"How long?"

But there was no answer.

Nolan glanced up, only to find Eve staring into the sky, lost in thought.

Following her gaze, he spotted the silhouette of a girl soaring above the Quidditch pitch.

It was Angelina Johnson, a third-year Gryffindor, flying elegantly through the air on her sleek Silver Arrow broomstick.

Eve's eyes followed Angelina's every move with quiet admiration, a wistful sigh escaping her lips.