Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince

The remainder of the summer holidays passed quietly, with Nolan spending most of his time training in combat under the relentless supervision of Felicia.

Felicia was unforgiving when it came to honing his skills. She demanded Nolan cultivate explosive power—just as their mother had once trained her, pushing Felicia to the limits of her strength as a child.

Of course, Nolan didn't spend every moment with Felicia.

Take, for example, the female Auror he'd dragged back on August 1st - Fi.

That day had not been one of her finest.

Her robes were reduced to tatters by a swift "Diffindo," and her shrieks echoed through the grand halls of the vampire estate. Fi had been certain her fate was sealed—that she'd be devoured by the boyish vampire standing before her.

But to her confusion and mild offense, Nolan hadn't even glanced at her bare skin.

He rifled through an old trunk without so much as a passing comment, finally pulling out a long black dress with white frills, complete with an apron.

Fi's eyes widened in horror.

"Is this… a maid's outfit?!" she screeched.

"You can thank me later," Nolan replied flatly, clearly losing patience.

"If you paid attention, you'd realize the Van Draugr collection is far more prestigious than you'd imagine. We have noblewomen from the Muggle world, princesses, even a few famous witches. Libera was here the other day—perhaps you'll meet her if she isn't too busy clinging to Felicia on the fourth floor."

Fi had no choice but to endure.

A week into her stay at the vampire estate, she grudgingly admitted Nolan was right.

The sprawling estate was filled with people—living, breathing people.

None of them were vampires, yet they resided there, nurtured and protected by the Van Draugr family.

To Fi's surprise, most of them didn't seem to mind.

In fact, some appeared to revel in their peculiar captivity.

One figure in particular stood out—Libera Rousseau, a witch whose name carried significant weight in the wizarding world.

Fi watched in astonishment as the once-proud Libera followed Felicia and Nolan like an obedient pet, her captivating voice dripping with honeyed sweetness whenever she spoke to them.

It was baffling.

Fi remembered Libera vividly—they had been rivals at Hogwarts.

Libera was the untouchable beauty of Slytherin, while Fi, diligent and sharp, had been Ravenclaw's rising star.

Back then, Libera was arrogant and impossible to please.

Fi had never seen her bow to anyone.

"Why don't you escape?" Fi couldn't contain her curiosity any longer and posed the question one afternoon.

Libera simply laughed, her red curls bouncing around her shoulders.

"Escape? Oh, that would be easy… but why would I?"

Fi frowned.

"You can't honestly mean you want to stay here. Do you desire immortality that badly? I'll admit, it's tempting, but selling your soul to vampires?"

"You don't understand," Libera cut in coldly, her playful tone vanishing in an instant.

"You're Muggle-born, aren't you? You didn't grow up during the war. You have no idea how helpless wizards were when true danger came knocking. You can't comprehend what it was like, living in constant fear."

Fi opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss.

She hadn't lived through the horrors of Voldemort's reign the same way others had.

For Libera, survival wasn't just a preference—it was a priority.

Libera's expression softened, her lips curling into a wistful smile.

"The Van Draugr estate is the safest place in Britain. Here, I have nothing to fear. And if I'm lucky enough to earn even a drop of their blood, to become one of them… all the better."

She glanced wistfully at the staircase where Nolan had just disappeared.

"Don't you find Prince Nolan charming? I'd happily bear him a child—an adorable little vampire even more beautiful than he is. That's been my dream since I was twelve."

Fi was stunned into silence.

She couldn't argue.

Her understanding of Voldemort's era was superficial at best, and she had no way of knowing the weight Libera carried.

Perhaps it was this conversation—or perhaps something else entirely—but Fi found herself softening toward the Van Draugr siblings.

And when she finally surrendered to Nolan's demands and allowed him to drink her blood, the sensation left her trembling.

The pleasure of it… was intoxicating.

Fi knew she was teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

"It's like… a drug," she thought uneasily, clutching at her collar.

The Auror who had never touched so much as a drop of Firewhisky was beginning to suspect she was in far more trouble than she'd realized.

Nolan spent the next few days not only honing his combat techniques but also fixating on the lock of golden hair he had taken.

He was adept at unraveling magical properties—vampires had a heightened sensitivity to magic, and Nolan, as a rare vampire wizard, possessed an innate ability to feel, touch, and deconstruct spells as naturally as breathing.

In that delicate strand of hair, he detected the telltale essence of an elf—noble, pure, and beautiful… yet thoroughly insufferable.

Yes, elves were always like that.

Beautiful, but rigid. Arrogant to the extreme. Even the slightest brush from another species would earn a glare of contempt.

It was precisely this hauteur that made forest elves such prized slaves.

Who wouldn't relish the thought of dragging something so high and mighty down into the dirt?

Had it been merely an elf who attacked him that day, Nolan wouldn't have given it much thought.

But buried within the hair's magic was another signature—seduction.

"That's veela," declared Felicia the moment she laid eyes on it.

"Veela are magical creatures native to France. You don't often see them in England. They resemble elves, just as breathtaking, but—hmm?"

Felicia's eyes narrowed in mock suspicion as she glanced at Nolan.

"Did I say something wrong? Hahaha! Oh, Nolan, my dear, you're adorable. No matter how beautiful they are, they could never hold a candle to your darling sister, could they?"

Nolan stared blankly.

"Sure. Whatever you say."

Felicia beamed, clearly satisfied with that answer.

With a playful laugh, she explained further.

"Veela may look similar to elves, but they're entirely different creatures. Elves carry themselves with dignity, while veela are… a little more vulgar. Both are stunning, of course, but they despise each other. It's quite entertaining to watch, really."

"Like vampires and werewolves?"

Felicia wrinkled her nose.

"Well, not to the point of mortal enemies…" she mused uncertainly. "They just find each other distasteful. Veela don't like to fight, though. They'd rather use their beauty to get what they want. Elves think they're nothing more than glorified prostitutes."

"How charming," Nolan remarked dryly.

Felicia laughed louder.

"It's not an unfair comparison, is it?" she teased.

Nolan arched a brow.

"Do elves and veela… ever interbreed?"

"Hmm… good question," Felicia said, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"It's not impossible, I suppose. Veela are all female, but elves have males. Throw aside the whole 'racial feud' thing, and it's bound to happen sooner or later.

"Though, veela hybrids tend to be fickle creatures. And elves, as you know, are hopeless romantics—one partner for life and all that. Hard to imagine the two ever lasting beyond a single rendezvous."

Nolan didn't know if Felicia's assessment was accurate, but the strand of hair told its own story.

He could sense the mingling of both veela and elven magic in it.

…

One morning, Nolan received two letters—one from Cho Chang and the other from Eve Stock.

Coincidence or not, both girls invited him to Diagon Alley for a day of shopping.

Libera, the fiery-haired witch who had recently taken up residence in the manor, clearly wanted to tag along.

Her curiosity about Cho had only grown stronger over the past week, and the thought of another girl occupying Nolan's attention made her itch with suspicion.

But Nolan promptly turned her down.

Libera was left gnashing her teeth against the arm of a chair, sulking in frustration.

For the record, she had finally achieved her long-standing goal—taking in Felicia's blood and becoming her latest death-bound kin just a week ago.

Now a fledgling vampire, she had developed an odd habit of chewing on furniture.

Apparently, her new, ever-growing fangs itched incessantly, and gnawing on things seemed to help.

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