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43.85% Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince / Chapter 50: Chapter 50: Felicia's Message

Chapter 50: Chapter 50: Felicia's Message

June. 

The last Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the term.

At the end of the school year, Professor Felicia von Draugr would be leaving them. After all, she had made it clear from the start—she would only teach for one year.

On this day, a group of girls clustered around Professor Felicia, expressing their reluctance to part ways.

"Can't you teach for just one more year? Professor Draugr, you're the best professor I've ever had… If we get a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, there's no way they'll be as good as you…"

Felicia smiled gently, her silver eyes gleaming as she patted the girls' heads. "Didn't you know?" she said with a sly grin.

"Know what?"

"That Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts position is cursed," she replied, pressing a perfectly manicured finger against her lips. "The fact that I've managed to teach an entire year unscathed is already a miracle. Stay on for another year? I'd probably die, don't you think?"

—What nonsense.

Nolan smirked, silently scoffing.

Felicia belonged to the rare breed of individuals for whom even dying was a challenge. While it was true that some vampires were prone to suicide, she was not among them.

Relax, girls. Even when you're old and gray, and your grandchildren are grown, this beloved Professor Draugr will still look as youthful as a sixteen-year-old girl.

Time is so unfair, isn't it?

Felicia clapped her hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, children. As you all know, today is our last class together. Being one of the rare Defense Against the Dark Arts professors to make it through a full year at Hogwarts with all my limbs intact, I'd like to leave you with a few parting words.

"First and foremost, modern wizards' battlefield awareness is simply atrocious! How many times have I told you, standing in place like idiots while firing colorful magic missiles won't work? If your opponent were my dear brother Nolan, that tactic would be pure suicide."

"Why don't wizards use physical combat? Your wand is in your right hand, but what about your left? It can throw punches, claw, elbow, or wield a weapon. Your legs, knees, kicks—even your head and shoulders—are weapons too. Yet many wizards, once disarmed, become useless, as if their intelligence was tied to their wands."

"Did you know that a thousand years ago, wizards would wield swords in their left hand?"

The students sat silently, absorbing her words.

Despite the fact that she hadn't taught them a single spell all year, they had grown to admire and adore this eccentric yet captivating woman.

"Now, some of you might wonder, 'Why do we need battlefield skills? I just want to graduate, get married, and have kids!'"

At this, many of the girls blushed and sneaked glances at Nolan, each thinking their secret crush went unnoticed.

Felicia chuckled, teasing them. "My, my, it seems my brother is quite popular. If you're interested, feel free to get to know him better. He's terrible at saying no, so if you want him, you'll probably succeed… probably."

Nolan's face froze, and he muttered a quiet protest. "Felicia, stop making me sound like a fool."

"When it comes to this, you are," she retorted cheekily. "Now, where was I? Oh, right. Here's the part you might not want to hear. You've all heard of the Dark Lord, haven't you?"

Felicia arched an eyebrow as she spoke, and the mention of the name caused the first-years to pale. Even those who hadn't lived through Voldemort's reign of terror had grown up hearing tales of his darkness.

"The truth is, before the rise of the Dark Lord, no wizard could have predicted his ascendancy. And yet, we all know he succeeded. Through his actions, he proved that the wizarding world isn't as safe as you might think. You may believe in lasting peace and tranquility, but who's to say when or where the next Dark Lord will emerge? Or when they'll start plotting against you?"

Her words hung heavy in the air, silencing the young witches and wizards.

Because none of them could deny it—there was no guarantee that another Dark Lord wouldn't rise.

Felicia swept her gaze across the classroom, her voice soft but impactful:

"A wizard's enemies are far more numerous than you might think. Werewolves, vampires, necromancers, demons, dark wizards, and even threats from across the ocean… Never underestimate your opponent. Develop a solid combat awareness and master the skills necessary to survive brutal battlefields. Sometimes, these abilities might save your life—or the lives of your spouse, family, or loved ones. Who knows?"

Her concluding remark, laced with uncertainty, struck the young wizards like hammers, shattering their immature sense of security.

"Alright," Felicia continued, "let's see what you've learned. This year, I haven't taught you any spells or physical techniques, only knowledge. But combat knowledge is the most valuable kind. Now, it's time to test the results. Nolan, step forward."

Under the watchful eyes of his classmates, Nolan stepped out nonchalantly.

Felicia grabbed her brother's shoulders, turned him around 180 degrees, and playfully rested her chin on his shoulder, grinning mischievously. "You all can attack my dear Nolan with everything you've got. Anyone who manages to hit him will earn a kiss from your beloved Professor Felicia!"

Nolan's eyebrows shot up as he muttered, "Stop messing around, Felicia. They're going to kill me."

Felicia leaned closer to his ear, whispering, "Do your best, my Nolan. My kisses are for you alone… You must live up to your role as my knight!"

—This woman needs a knight? What a joke.

Nolan shook his head bitterly, looking at his classmates, who were practically itching to attack. He sighed internally, wishing he could protest more loudly.

Even Montague was raring to go, cracking his knuckles. "Nolan, we're friends, but friends have to compete sometimes. I'm sure you understand."

Miles, meanwhile, was almost delirious with excitement at the prospect of Felicia's kiss. His eyes glazed over as he muttered, "Nolan, just let me hit you once—just once!"

"…I refuse," Nolan snapped, pulling out his wand and pointing it at the 19 students gathered before him. "Come at me all at once!"

"Nolan might be strong, but he's just one person. Everyone, charge!"

Whoever shouted that idiotic suggestion set off a chain reaction, and the students launched their attack in unison.

Nolan barely had time to wonder why even the girls were participating. He fired a quick succession of Stupefy and Petrificus Totalus, instantly incapacitating two students. But the onslaught forced him to use Shield Charms for defense—he wasn't the only first-year who had mastered Petrificus Totalus, after all!

Author's Note:

Let me take a moment to talk about the thought process behind writing this story since the first year is about to end.

First of all , regarding the pacing, it's intentionally slow. The first year doesn't have much plot, so I've focused entirely on character development. You've probably noticed that Eve and Cho have taken up a significant portion of the chapters.

Why this approach? Well, I could write fast-paced stories, but I personally prefer slower narratives. I enjoy stories that delve deeply into the world, allowing me to feel like I'm part of it. If you can immerse yourself in the protagonist's journey, then you'll enjoy the story as it unfolds.

I also want readers to see how the characters grow and change over time. Remember the timid Eve, the somewhat awkward Nolan, and the tomboyish Cho? By third year, they'll all have undergone significant transformations.

From the second term onward, the plot will shift toward the Philosopher's Stone arc, which will serve as the main storyline. That said, it won't just be about Voldemort. Let's be real—having the Von Draugr family, with their level of power, spend seven years fighting Voldemort would be laughable.

Here's a little spoiler: later on, the story will evolve into a massive conflict involving the wizarding worlds of Britain and France, vampires, vampire hunters, werewolves, and other factions. Voldemort's role… well, let's just say it'll be relatively minor.

As for Harry Potter himself… I still haven't decided on his ultimate fate. Honestly, in such a brutal magical war, I'm not sure if the so-called "Chosen One," who's been manipulated his whole life, could realistically survive , but who knows what might happen.

Now, about the female leads. Initially, I planned for five: Felicia, Eve, Hermione, Luna, and Cho's younger sister. But somehow… things got out of hand. At this point, I've already added over ten. I can't bear to cut any of them—they're all too dear to me. Well, it doesn't matter. Nolan's a vampire, so having more isn't an issue.

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

Patreon Advance Chapters: patreon .com / HPdreamer


Chapter 51: Chapter 51: Abducted

"Nolan, that was way too harsh!"

"Exactly! All this just for Professor Felicia's kiss? You went too far!"

"My nose… my poor nose…"

For the entire next day, the Slytherin first-years grumbled incessantly at Nolan. During the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Nolan had shown no mercy. Not only had he unleashed advanced spells that many of them had never seen before, but he also resorted to landing solid punches.

The result? Not a single student managed to earn a kiss from Professor Felicia. Naturally, the young Slytherins were up in arms over their dashed hopes.

To avoid their complaints, Nolan sought refuge in the office of Ancient Runes Professor Bathsheda Babbling, spending an enjoyable afternoon in her company.

"Oh, Nolan, my dear," Professor Babbling said fondly, stroking his hair. "I can't wait for you to advance to your third year so you can finally take my class. You wouldn't believe how rare it is to find a promising student interested in runes these days. And among those, it's even rarer to find someone with real talent. Nolan, I hope you'll choose my class in the future, and I promise to be both your dedicated teacher and your steadfast friend."

"I will, Professor Babbling," Nolan replied softly, nodding obediently. He then pulled out a silver pocket watch from his pocket to check the time. "Oh, it's about time for me to head back to my dorm. If I'm late, Filch will block me in the corridors again. It wouldn't be the first time. Filch seems to have a personal vendetta against me; I have no idea why he dislikes me so much."

"That's such a shame, my dear. And what a lovely watch you have," Babbling remarked.

"Is it?" Nolan glanced at her, his usual calm expression softening slightly with a trace of delight. "It was a gift from a friend—my favorite Christmas present. I think it suits me perfectly."

The pocket watch was a gift from Eve.

By the time Nolan returned to the Slytherin common room, it was already late.

Most of the Slytherins had gone back to their dormitories to rest, leaving only a few students still huddled by the fireplace, poring over their homework.

"Nolan, where have you been?"

Waiting on the sofa with an air of boredom was Alicia.

"I was with Professor Babbling. She taught me quite a bit today. According to her, with a bit more practice, I'll soon be able to craft magical artifacts myself," Nolan said, his tone as even as ever.

"You're back so late," Alicia remarked, frowning slightly in disapproval. "We thought Filch had caught you."

"When has Filch ever managed to catch me? He never will," Nolan replied as he began organizing the new knowledge he had gained that day. His tone was casual but firm.

Alicia hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Eve hasn't come back yet."

"What? But it's already nine o'clock."

"I thought…" Alicia muttered dreamily, "the two of you went on a date."

Nolan pondered for a moment. "No, I haven't seen Eve since dinner. But I know she's been studying really hard lately. She's probably in the library and lost track of time—or maybe she's with one of the professors. Besides, I don't date little girls. She's still too young."

Alicia raised an eyebrow. "That's what you say. But I need to go find her quickly. Eve can't afford to lose points for Slytherin."

In Slytherin, no matter who else might lose points, Eve couldn't afford to. Even if she lost just one point for daydreaming in class, she'd return to the common room only to face scorn and relentless bullying. It was something she always tried to avoid.

Checking his pocket watch again, Nolan said, "You stay here. I'll go find her—I know where she might be." With that, he turned and left the common room.

Nolan assumed he'd find the young witch in the library, but he was wrong. Instead, he walked into the middle of a heated battle between Madam Pince and Peeves. Lately, Peeves seemed to have discovered a new hobby—pulling books off the shelves and scattering them everywhere, which sent Madam Pince scurrying around like a house-elf, muttering irritably while attempting to restore order.

Nolan's timing couldn't have been worse. He arrived just as Madam Pince, clutching a thick, monstrous tome, was in hot pursuit of Peeves.

"Good evening, Madam Pince," Nolan greeted awkwardly, unable to ignore the usually composed librarian's furious outburst.

"Oh, heavens, Mr. Von Draugr, what are you doing here so late? The library is closed, and as you can see… I'm dealing with a pest problem."

"Dealing with pests can sometimes be quite simple," Nolan replied, pulling a small bottle of milky white liquid from his pocket and handing it to her. "This is a diluted holy water solution, typically used by monks to repel evil spirits."

"Thank you, dear boy." Overjoyed, Madam Pince sprinkled the holy water onto Peeves, who immediately let out a string of curses before disappearing into the wall. "Marvelous! I haven't felt such peace in ages. Now then, Mr. Von Draugr, what book are you looking for?"

"I'm not here for a book, Madam Pince," Nolan replied. "I'm just checking to see if Eve is here."

"Miss Stock?" Madam Pince paused to think. "She did come by after dinner to return a book—The Structure and Unfinished Theories of 18th-Century Classical Magic by Giorno D'Asco. It's an excellent book. I hope she found it useful; it could benefit her immensely."

Nolan glanced at the cover. "It does look fascinating."

But now wasn't the time for reading.

If Eve wasn't in the library, where could she be?

Nolan proceeded to question Professors Flitwick and McGonagall, but neither of them had seen her. Finally, he sought out Professor Snape, only to be chased out by the Potions Master, who was wearing pink pajamas and wielding a vial of foul-smelling concoction.

Eventually, Nolan made his way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The moment he opened the door, he knew he was on the right track. His vampire senses quickly picked up Eve's lingering scent—a tantalizing fragrance of purity and the rich aroma of young, fresh blood that never failed to captivate him.

Professor Felicia wasn't in the classroom, but something was clearly wrong. Nolan noticed signs of a struggle, and he could tell they weren't left over from a lesson.

The trail of the scuffle led to the windowsill, where the window was wide open. Shoe prints marked the ledge, and two drops of blood were visible—undeniably Eve Stock's.

"Eve's been kidnapped? Why?"

There was no time to dwell on questions. In one swift movement, Nolan stepped onto the ledge and leaped into the darkness.

The next moment, his form shifted into that of a massive black raven. With a powerful beat of his wings, he soared into the night sky.

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

Patreon Advance Chapters: patreon .com / HPdreamer


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