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26.31% Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince / Chapter 30: 30: The Method to Create a Thrall

Chapter 30: 30: The Method to Create a Thrall

Finding himself unable to quickly overpower Yulisa, Wactor shouted in desperation:

"Oh, Almighty Master! Your servant is in trouble! Please grant me your infinite power, that I may serve at your side as a loyal servant to your greatness!"

Before Yulisa could fully process his words, a soft sigh echoed from the hallway.

"Wactor, you really are a foolish man," came a calm voice.

Light footsteps followed, and moments later, a young boy stepped into Yulisa's room.

The sight stunned Yulisa. The newcomer was short, with a youthful, tender face, looking several years younger than her.

Wactor Heckler, despite his flaws, was still the current head of the Heckler family—a man of influence in high society and one who often dealt with dangerous underworld figures. Yet here he was, bowing to a mere boy.

Yulisa thought, This boy must either have an extraordinary background or possess something far more unusual.

Which is it? she wondered. Her gut told her it was the latter.

Perhaps this boy wasn't human at all. After all, how could a child, barely in his early teens, walk into the middle of a gunfight without even flinching?

A memory flashed in her mind, something her elders had once told her, and suddenly it all made sense.

"A vampire!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with fury. "Wactor! You stole the Heckler family's status and wealth, and now you're trading it all for immortality? You filthy, despicable wretch!"

Wactor chuckled coldly. "As a child, everything I ate, played with, or wore—I took it all. When I grew up, my degrees, women, wealth—I stole those too. Only by seizing what isn't mine can I survive. This is no different."

Nolan Von Draugr, the young boy, nodded thoughtfully. "No wonder Felicia said you're the perfect thrall. Your nature resembles that of a vampire—utterly wicked.

"Typically, Muggles who become thralls fail to suppress their vampiric instincts and end up as mindless beasts. We often recommend such thralls turn into animals to endure their harsh transformations." He glanced at the white snake coiled on his wrist and added, "But you? You need no adjustment, for you're already an evil Muggle by nature."

Panting through her pain, Yulisa asked, "What family do you belong to, vampire?"

"Von Draugr," he replied.

"The ones from England? Of the Secret Order?" Her familiarity with vampires was evident. "Wactor may have offered you something, but I can offer more. Unlike that vile man, I would make a better thrall. Kill him, and I will swear loyalty to you!"

"I don't bargain with Muggles," Nolan said, his displeasure clear. "However, I also dislike male thralls. I'll give you a chance to prove yourself—show me that you're better than him."

Wactor panicked. "No! My lord, we had an agreement! You can't go back on it!"

Nolan's crimson gaze fell on him, full of disdain. "As you can see, I can. Wactor Heckler, put down your gun. If you point it at me again, I swear, death will come for you immediately."

One look into those glowing red eyes, and Wactor's hands trembled as he lowered his weapon.

Nolan kicked open a weapons rack in Yulisa's room and pulled out two pistols. "Here's a fair game," he announced, addressing both of them. "As members of the Heckler family, I'm sure you'll appreciate it."

He unloaded both guns, disassembled them into components, and placed the parts on the table.

Then, he positioned Wactor on one side and Yulisa on the other. Turning to the injured girl, he said softly, "Don't waste time. I doubt your bodyguards will arrive, and I dislike being interrupted."

"So do I," Yulisa said, nodding grimly. She placed her hands on the components, her sharp eyes never leaving Wactor.

Wactor's face turned pale. Unlike his stepdaughter, he lacked her deep knowledge of firearms. He knew he would lose to her in a contest of assembly speed. But when his gaze landed on the makeshift bandages around Yulisa's wounded arm, he felt a surge of confidence.

How could I lose to a woman with a bullet in her arm? he thought.

Nolan nodded. The life-or-death showdown had begun.

Yulisa moved with expertise, her hands trembling as she ignored the pain coursing through her wounded arm, carefully selecting and assembling the firearm components. Despite her skill, Wactor's speed outpaced her, and her face darkened as she realized she was losing ground.

"You're done for! You're done for!" Wactor chanted with mounting confidence, rapidly piecing together his weapon. As he slid the magazine into place and flipped off the safety, his triumphant laughter filled the room.

"Haha! The winner is—"

"It's me," Yulisa interrupted coldly, producing a concealed handgun from behind her back and pulling the trigger.

The gunshot echoed in the room. Wactor's eyes widened in shock as the bullet shattered his skull. He crumpled to the floor, his lifeless body sprawled out, his expression frozen in disbelief.

Nolan nodded approvingly. "Not bad, Yulisa Heckler."

"Not bad?" she repeated, her voice hollow. Then, with a bitter smile, she added, "I've been handling guns since I was three. I've assembled every model HK produces hundreds of times. And yet, I still lost to that man in a contest of speed and precision. I even broke the rules to survive."

Nolan scoffed, shaking his head. "Why should anyone feel bound by rules when their life is at stake? I assure you, your decision was the correct one. Vampires always act in their own interest. This is a promising start—we can work from here."

Without warning, he stepped closer. Yulisa's eyes widened in alarm as he grabbed her, ignoring her struggles. With a swift motion, he tore her clothing away at the shoulder, revealing her pale, porcelain-like skin.

Before she could protest further, Nolan opened his mouth, baring his sharp fangs, and sank them into her flesh.

A startled cry escaped Yulisa's lips as she felt a strange sensation, the warmth of her blood mingling with Nolan's. Her body convulsed uncontrollably as the transformation began. Her skin grew colder, her breathing shallower. Her teeth lengthened into fine, sharp points, and her vibrant green eyes began to glow faintly in the dark.

The process lasted about half an hour. As it drew to an end, a faint blush returned to Yulisa's pallid face. Her voice weakened to a barely audible whisper, and she found herself experiencing an unexpected, disturbing sensation—a mix of pain and pleasure during the exchange of blood.

When it was over, Nolan leaned back, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

"So, this is the First Embrace of a vampire," Yulisa murmured. She could feel the profound change in her being. She was no longer human. Her strength had grown exponentially, but some human characteristics—like her warm body temperature—were already fading.

"The First Embrace is a poetic term," Nolan said coldly. "But among us, it's more commonly known as… an infection."

He crouched down, gently cupping Yulisa's face in his hands. He brushed aside her long hair, examining her features intently before nodding in satisfaction. "You'll do well. As a Death Kin, your appearance meets my standards."

"Death Kin?" Yulisa asked, her voice trembling. "I thought I was to be your thrall."

"In the Von Draugr family, thralls are referred to as Death Kin, Yulisa," Nolan explained softly. Straightening, he walked toward the door. Before stepping out, he turned back to her.

"In two days, you will experience a powerful bloodlust. Before that happens, a vampire named Baron Dura will visit you. He'll provide you with enough blood jelly to suppress your cravings. If you prefer feeding on Muggle blood, he'll make the necessary arrangements for you."

With that, Nolan Von Draugr vanished into the night, leaving Yulisa to grapple with her newfound existence.

~~~----------------------

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Chapter 31: Chapter 31: Nolan's New Interest

In November, Hogwarts began donning its winter garb.

That morning, Nolan, still half-asleep, was carried into the Great Hall by Miles, who was already accustomed to this ritual. Nolan collapsed onto the table like a lifeless body. While everyone else chatted cheerfully over breakfast, he slept. The young wizards were unfazed—this was typical behavior for Nolan.

Not far away, Eve nibbled on her buttered sandwich, sneaking cautious glances at Nolan. His hair was a chaotic mess from sleep, which filled her with an urge to fix it for him. But she knew she couldn't, and even if she could, she didn't dare.

Her musings were interrupted by Cho Chang, who approached from the Ravenclaw table with a large hairbrush in hand.

"Miles, he looks like an absolute madman," Cho remarked, her tone a mix of exasperation and concern. "Merlin's beard, when you drag him out of bed and get him dressed, why can't you at least make sure his hair is somewhat presentable?"

Miles paused mid-bite into a cheesy sausage, looking incredulous. "Why don't you tell him to stop playing those Muggle games all night?"

Cho's cheeks flushed a soft pink. "I—I have my reasons…"

Camille Smith from Slytherin smirked and quipped with a mocking tone, "Oh, that's because he wouldn't listen to you either. Everyone knows Nolan doesn't listen to anyone."

Cho's face turned bright red. She lowered her head, said nothing further, and focused on vigorously brushing Nolan's unruly hair.

Nolan stirred slightly and mumbled, "Don't use a dog brush on me…"

"This isn't a dog brush! I only use it on my own hair!" Cho retorted, her frustration apparent.

At that moment, the owl post arrived, marking the start of a peculiar scene. Around ten owls swooped into the Great Hall, each carrying large, broomstick-shaped packages. The sight immediately stirred whispers among the students, all curious about the unusual delivery.

The owls, moving in perfect sync, dropped their loads right in front of Nolan at the Slytherin table. The broom-shaped parcels landed with a cacophony of thuds, knocking over a pitcher of pumpkin juice. Orange liquid splashed everywhere, and Cho let out a startled scream. But before a single drop could touch her, a sleek black umbrella opened to shield her.

To everyone's amazement, the person holding the umbrella—still very much asleep—was Nolan himself.

Miles stared, his mouth agape, before finally finding his voice. Shaking Nolan awake, he exclaimed, "Merlin, Nolan, what on earth have you done now?"

"Hm?" Nolan responded groggily.

Miles pointed at the pile of packages. "What is this?"

Glancing at the bundles, Nolan's typically expressionless face lit up with an uncharacteristic trace of excitement. "After our last flying class, I got interested in taking apart brooms."

"And?"

"So I bought a few." Nolan's reply was utterly nonchalant. He began tearing open the packages under the astonished gazes of the surrounding students.

The contents spilled out—twelve brand-new broomsticks from various top-tier lines, including the Comet, Cleansweep, and Nimbus series. Among them were three Nimbus 2000s, currently the most advanced brooms on the market.

Cho, who adored brooms, covered her mouth in disbelief. One Nimbus 2000 alone cost 380 Galleons, a sum equivalent to an average wizard family's annual income. "Oh… Merlin… Merlin!"

Nolan glanced at Cho, then at the brooms, as if weighing something. Finally, with a tone of reluctant generosity, he said, "If you want to ride one, I'll let you. But you'll have to return it afterward—I want to examine its internal structure."

Cho's outrage was palpable. "You're planning to dismantle them? I can't believe it! Nolan, how could you even think of doing that?"

"I'm curious about the magic behind their flight," Nolan said softly.

At that moment, Professor McGonagall arrived, clearly intrigued by the commotion Nolan had caused yet again. Adjusting her glasses, she surveyed the scene.

"Oh my, what a splendid sight," she said with a hint of amusement. "Mr. Von Draugr, perhaps before you disassemble these fine brooms, you might allow the school's Quidditch teams to experience their exceptional speed?"

Nolan reluctantly muttered, "If you insist…"

The drama at the breakfast table quickly came to an end.

Though many were envious of Nolan's collection of over a dozen broomsticks and curious about how much gold he must have to his name, few truly believed he would disassemble those extraordinarily valuable brooms simply to study flying magic.

But the next day, shocking news spread throughout the castle—Nolan had already dismantled a Nimbus 2000! It was said that Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch team captain, was so distraught that he broke into loud sobs, apparently fed up with his old Cleansweep Seven.

The incident caused a stir at Hogwarts, drawing even the attention of the professors. During Potions class, Snape—his sleek black hair as polished as ever—mocked Nolan openly:

"It seems our Mr. Von Draugr has found a new interest outside of Muggle games. Oh, poor soul, let us hope he gains something more than just the skill to dismantle broomsticks."

Nolan replied softly, "Actually, I did learn something, Professor Snape. I discovered an inscription on the broomstick. I'm not sure if it's a modern language, but I can see that the arrangement of these symbols holds special significance for the broom's functionality. It's fascinating."

Snape's breath hitched. After a moment of silence, he grudgingly muttered, "How wonderful."

For days, the Slytherin common room buzzed with activity. Younger students struck dramatic poses as if riding brooms while older students crowded around Nolan. The disassembly of a broomstick was an uncommon event—once taken apart, it was nearly impossible to reassemble properly. So, the opportunity to examine the internal structure of a broomstick up close was exceedingly rare.

The Slytherin prefect, Dalric Connaught, diligently helped Nolan record the broom's magical array and its inscriptions, while his girlfriend used a measuring tape to document the exact dimensions and placement of each magical marking.

Nolan himself was deep in thought, his usual gaming sessions noticeably reduced. Occasionally, he would look excited, jotting down notes in English on parchment. Sheet after sheet was filled with diagrams and observations incomprehensible to Miles, who could only shake his head in bewilderment.

In a quiet corner of the common room sat Eve Stock. She watched from afar as Nolan, surrounded by a crowd, became the center of attention. Her heart swirled with a mixture of envy and sorrow.

Just then, Montague Lockman strode into the common room from outside and called out to Nolan, his voice loud and teasing:

"Hey, Nolan! Your little girlfriend's waiting for you outside. Looks like she wants to talk to you!"

The room erupted with the sound of several girls sighing in disappointment.

"Little girlfriend?" Nolan asked quietly, then seemed to piece it together himself. "Cho?"

~~~----------------------

Patreon Advance Chapters: patreon .com / HPdreamer


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