Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince

Eve saw right through Harry and Ron's need to play the hero. She found it amusing—there was something endearing about their stubbornness—so she laughed softly and said, "It's best if you stay far away from that door in the future. A three-headed dog won't care that you're Hogwarts students… And be careful around Draco Malfoy. That family is nothing but trouble."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. The message was clear—she wasn't like the other Slytherins at all.

As Eve turned to leave, she had only taken a few steps when—

"Meow."

"Oh no!" Harry groaned. "It's that bloody cat—Filch's cat!"

But Eve was quicker. She whipped out her wand.

"Stupefy!"

A flash of red light shot from the tip, striking Mrs. Norris squarely on the nose. The cat yowled and flopped over, landing on her side as if in a deep, dreamless sleep.

Eve slipped her wand back into her pocket without a second glance. As she walked away, she waved dismissively over her shoulder.

"You'd better hurry back to your dormitory, Gryffindors. Doesn't seem like your luck's very good tonight."

Harry and the others stood frozen, staring first at Eve's retreating figure, then down at the stunned Mrs. Norris.

"She's… she's so cool," Harry muttered, swallowing hard.

"Cool doesn't even cover it," Ron mumbled in awe. "Now I get why Nolan chose her."

Hermione, however, wasn't impressed. She scowled at the two boys, hands on her hips.

"If I were you, I'd stop gawking and get back to the tower before Filch finds us! Do you have any idea how many points you're going to lose for Gryffindor if he catches us? I worked hard for those points!"

Harry and Ron exchanged another look—and sighed in unison.

After such an exhilarating adventure, Hermione Granger was a downright buzzkill.

Couldn't she say something exciting for once?

…

Eve jogged up to the eighth floor, not wanting to keep Nolan waiting. But the quick sprint left her slightly sweaty. Eve wrinkled her nose—she didn't want Nolan to notice.

She pulled out her wand.

"Scourgify."

A cool, refreshing sensation swept over her. Lately, Eve had grown proficient in these simple spells. Professor Flitwick often praised her dedication, though some of the other girls whispered it was all because of Nolan.

As if Nolan could magically make his girlfriend smarter.

She only had to wait a moment before Nolan appeared, striding down the corridor. He looked like he had just come from Ancient Runes class, a battered broomstick slung over his shoulder and an armful of strange magical instruments tucked under his other arm.

"Where are we going?" Eve asked curiously.

"Right here," Nolan replied, stopping before a blank stretch of wall. He didn't wait for Eve to ask further—he simply continued, "This is the Room of Requirement. It's one of Hogwarts' open secrets. Most people don't know about it… but if you need to know, you'll find out eventually. Walk past this spot three times…"

He grabbed Eve's hand and led her to the tapestry of the giant trolls in tutus. Together, they paced back and forth three times.

When they stopped, a door had appeared where there had been nothing moments before.

"If you think about the place you need while walking, the Room will give you whatever you require," Nolan explained, smirking as his eyes glinted with mischief. "Upperclassmen couples come here for romantic evenings. Want to know what they get up to?"

"N-no!" Eve's face turned scarlet as she shook her head furiously.

Of course, she did know.

She was thirteen—she wasn't that naive.

Eve had noticed something lately—Nolan seemed different at night.

During the day, he was cold and composed, every action deliberate, every word calculated. Like a glass of pure, colorless vodka—strong and intense, but emotionless.

But at night…

At night, he felt dangerous.

Wild, even.

He carried the same reckless allure as those bad boys teenage girls swooned over—like a glass of red wine, rich and intoxicating.

In the year she had known him, Nolan had grown taller, his shoulders broader. His once-soft features were sharpening, slowly shedding the last traces of boyhood. There was no doubt—within two years, he'd be devastatingly handsome.

During the day, Nolan always looked half-asleep—like he'd just rolled out of bed. But now, under the cold, shimmering starlight of the Room of Requirement, he radiated something else entirely. There was an intoxicating danger in the curve of his lips, in the way he softly murmured, in the faint, lingering red glow deep in his eyes.

—He's dangerous.

The thought made Eve's head spin, as if she'd downed too much butterbeer. But she let him lead her forward without resistance.

They passed through the door and stepped into a transformed Room of Requirement—a circular training ground. The stone floor stretched out beneath them, enclosed by a round railing. Overhead, the ceiling sparkled like the night sky, mimicking the great dome of Hogwarts.

The pale moonlight cast shadows that danced across Nolan's sharp features. His presence seemed to fill the space, the air around him thrumming with raw magic. He grinned faintly, pulling Eve toward the center of the arena. She followed like a marionette, letting him guide her.

As they walked, Nolan spoke casually, as if the intense atmosphere didn't exist.

"I looked into wizard dueling this afternoon. The arenas are usually about this size, with rails all around. That means you can't back away—you can only dodge left or right. Not exactly ideal for you, Eve. Your legs are too short."

Eve's cheeks flushed bright red. She opened her mouth to protest, but it took her a moment to force out a response.

"They're… still growing!"

"I don't doubt that," Nolan said with a soft chuckle. He let go of her hand.

Eve felt an odd pang of disappointment as his fingers slipped away, lingering long enough to miss the next thing he said.

"Draw your wand, you fool. Why do you think we came here?" His voice snapped her back to reality, amusement flickering in his gaze.

"Oh. Right…!" Eve fumbled with her wand, her brain momentarily lagging behind.

"Wizard duels—or any fight, really—boil down to two key elements: attack and defense," Nolan began, pacing slowly around her. "You can expand on that—control, dispelling, interference—but at the core, it's about striking and shielding. Now, there's one spell you absolutely need to master. Hold your wand, Eve, and watch my lips carefully—Expelliarmus!"

His wrist flicked so fast Eve barely saw the motion. Before she could even react, her wand flew from her hand, spinning through the air before clattering to the floor.

"You won't find many wizards capable of wandless magic," Nolan continued as if nothing had happened. "And even if they can, the spell's power is usually weak. If you can't stun or petrify your opponent immediately, disarm them. A wizard without a wand is no different from a Muggle."

Nolan muttered a soft "Accio" and Eve's wand zipped back into his hand. He held it out to her, meeting her gaze as she reached for it.

"Some people underestimate the Disarming Charm," he said, his voice dropping lower. "They think—if you're skilled enough to disarm someone, why not just use a Full Body-Bind Curse? But what they fail to realize is that Expelliarmus is one of the fastest spells in existence. If you've studied runic structures, you'd know—Expelliarmus is a three-syllable spell. Petrificus Totalus? That one has eighteen syllables. Which means, in theory, you can cast Expelliarmus six times for every one Body-Bind Curse."

He twirled her wand between his fingers with practiced ease, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

"Of course, the time it takes to swing your wand narrows that gap a little. But by the time someone finishes casting Petrificus Totalus, I'll have disarmed them three times over."

Eve swallowed.

Nolan was dangerous. And he knew it.