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42.1% Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince / Chapter 48: Chapter 48: The Noble Bloodline Elixir

Chapter 48: Chapter 48: The Noble Bloodline Elixir

In early May, Hogwarts students found themselves busier than ever, and the first-year students were no exception. They were all preparing for their end-of-year exams.

Miles, it seemed, didn't enjoy the tense atmosphere of this period. Perhaps it was because he was naturally restless, or perhaps it was due to his consistently poor quiz scores in every class. Miles frequently tried to lure the first-years studying diligently in the common room to give up and join him for some fun at the Quidditch pitch. Unfortunately for him, anyone in their right mind was unlikely to pay him any attention.

Slytherin, as a house that highly valued honor, had gained a significant number of points this year thanks to Nolan's exceptional performance. Even if they lost their final Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, they were poised to win the House Cup. At such a critical juncture, few Slytherins were willing to jeopardize their standing with poor grades and tarnish their house's reputation.

As a result, the seat beside Nolan had become quite popular lately. First-years eagerly sought his guidance on perfecting spells like the Levitation Charm and Transfiguration, while some upper-year students tried to extract hints about possible exam questions from Professor Felicia's younger brother.

However, the young wizards were soon shocked to discover that the idolized Nolan Von Draugr wasn't as academically perfect as they had imagined.

"History of Magic? Why on earth would I need to know when the house-elves rebelled?" Nolan exclaimed in disbelief when asked such questions, staring at the other student as though they were daft. "The past ten Ministers for Magic? What idiotic things they each did? No, thanks—I have zero interest."

Montague gave an awkward laugh. "Nolan, if you'd just put some effort into History of Magic, you'd be a shoo-in for the top score across all subjects this year."

But Nolan shook his head lightly. "Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, and Defense Against the Dark Arts—I can find reasons to study each of these. But History of Magic? Sorry, I didn't come to Hogwarts to memorize dull facts like an idiot."

The younger Slytherins were noncommittal about Nolan's stance.

Perhaps it was true that not many young wizards enjoyed History of Magic, but Slytherin prided itself on results. As long as you scored high on exams, what happened in between… Who would care?

One day, Nolan finally managed to shake off the crowd of students pestering him for tutoring in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Gathering up his robe and coat, he made his way to the Potions preparation room, which also served as Professor Snape's office, located in the dungeons.

Nolan knocked on the door and waited patiently until the greasy-haired professor's curt "Come in" invited him inside. "Good afternoon, Professor Snape. I believe I require your assistance."

Snape was busy preparing the roots of asphodel, slicing them into fine threads to extract their essence for a revealing potion. He suspected the Weasley twins had been using a Disillusionment Charm to evade detection lately.

Snape cast a cold glance at Nolan and, without speaking, motioned toward a chair with a slight tilt of his chin.

Nolan understood and obediently sat down, waiting quietly for about ten minutes as Snape completed the final step of his work. The revealing potion transformed into a beautiful pale blue hue.

"Absolutely perfect, Professor Snape," Nolan murmured, admiring the result. "The purity is remarkable. I'd wager that even a goblin couldn't remain invisible before you with just a single drop of this."

There was no denying Snape's expertise; his skill in potion-making was why he held the post of Potions Master at Hogwarts.

Snape's lips twitched slightly, holding back a sarcastic retort. Instead, he coolly began organizing the leftover ingredients into their respective containers. "Do you have questions about your coursework, Mr. Von Draugr? If this is another request for a potion to prank someone, like last time, I will not hesitate to assign you detention."

"I simply wanted to show you the fruits of my research this term."

Nolan pulled a small vial from his pocket, its contents a vivid, blood-red potion.

Snape quickly strode over, snatched the vial from Nolan's hand, removed the wooden stopper, and sniffed it carefully. "African violets, burdock, broom, water nymph ash, and… vampire blood?"

"More precisely, it's 'Ancestor' blood. And there are also thirteen milder stabilizing ingredients mixed in," Nolan explained.

"Ancestor blood?" Professor Snape frowned deeply, moving briskly to the workbench. He pulled out a small white mouse, applied a single drop of the crimson potion to it, and observed. The mouse twitched violently for a moment before dying just seconds later.

"This is a failure," Snape declared icily.

Nolan, however, shook his head. "No, it's a success. I call it the Noble Bloodline Elixir. When consumed, it grants a wizard the physical traits of a vampire for an entire day."

Snape's voice turned even colder. "Put away your impractical fantasies. No wizard can withstand such power. This foolish concoction will cause a wizard's blood to boil, evaporate entirely, and leave them a desiccated corpse."

Nolan shrugged. "The potion does seem too potent. I need to dilute it, but I'm not sure how."

Snape furrowed his brow, tapping a finger rhythmically on the desk as he thought deeply. After a long pause, he said, "I can help you refine this potion. However, Ancestor blood is not easy to come by. I'll need at least two liters."

Nolan grimaced. "More blood? Felicia is going to nag me again."

At that moment, a knock came at the door, followed by a girl's voice from outside. "Professor Snape, are you there?"

Snape cast a sidelong glance at Nolan and said coldly, "It's your little girlfriend."

Nolan froze. "Cho?"

"The other one."

"Eve?"

Snape's expression grew peculiarly amused. He secured the vial of Noble Bloodline Elixir and called out, "Come in."

Sure enough, the girl who entered was a young witch with striking silver hair. As she walked in, she said, "Professor Snape, I've finished the assignment you gave us last time. It gave me a lot of inspiration. By changing the configuration slightly, I was able to achieve completely different results. I've created seven variations of burn-healing salve. Two of them are the most effective, but one is blue, the other orange. One is odorless, while the other has a terrible smell. Their magical properties are completely opposite, and I can't figure out what I did wrong… Oh, Merlin! Nolan, what are you doing here?"

Nolan explained quietly, "I'm working on a new potion and need Professor Snape's help."

"Oh, I see…" Eve stammered, flustered. She quickly placed a thick stack of notes on the desk. "I won't disturb you, then…"

With that, she hurried out, almost stumbling over herself in her haste.

Nolan watched her retreating figure with a puzzled expression. Snape, meanwhile, had begun flipping through the notes Eve had left behind. After skimming two pages, he gave a barely perceptible nod and tossed the stack onto the desk in front of Nolan.

"Von Draugr, take a look at this."

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

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Chapter 49: Chapter 49: Run, Eve, Run!

The notebook was filled with neat handwriting, detailing a young witch's many experiments in potion-making—hundreds of entries in total. After each experiment, Eve had noted down hypotheses and questions, gradually addressing and resolving them in subsequent attempts.

Eve's approach to using raw materials wasn't particularly advanced, but her unique ideas made her efforts stand out enough to catch the attention of a professional potioneer, who found them rather valuable.

"When did she start working on this?" Nolan asked in surprise as he flipped through the pages, glancing at Snape.

"Early March," Snape replied coldly after some thought. "Von Draugr, if I were you, I'd check with other professors to see if your little girlfriend has been getting extra tutoring from them as well."

"Oh… I'll be going now."

"Get lost." Snape pulled open a cabinet of potion ingredients once again, seemingly preparing to test the new recipe Eve had developed. "Don't forget the two liters of your Ancestors' blood."

From then on, Nolan began keeping an occasional eye on Eve's activities.

It wasn't long before he noticed how incredibly productive Eve had been these past few weeks.

One early morning in mid-March, as the pale dawn light filtered through the castle and the owls were still wide awake, Eve stepped out of her dormitory wearing Muggle workout clothes. She appeared in the Slytherin common room, stretching her body with a series of warm-up exercises before jogging out of the room.

"Good morning" she said as she exited, greeting the Mobius snake carved on the dungeon door.

"Good morning, Miss Stock. Safe travels," the snake-shaped door knocker responded politely.

Eve had tied her silver hair into a ponytail, which bounced with each step as she ran. Like a little rabbit, her ponytail hopped along as she jogged through the dungeon corridors, climbed the moving staircases, and passed Argus Filch, who was cleaning up dungbombs from a late-night prank.

"Good morning, Mr. Filch," she greeted him cheerfully.

Filch, caught off guard, seemed flustered. Very few students ever greeted him. He stood frozen for a moment, and by the time Eve had run far ahead, he murmured softly, "Good morning…" but she was already out of sight.

When Eve passed through the gates of Hogwarts, Peeves the Poltergeist spotted her and decided to cause trouble. Peeves, who had taken a liking to the little Slytherin girl, often used mischief to show his affection.

"Look, look! A little Slytherin Muggle-born is out for a run! Scrub her with water, shoot her with slop, make the Mudblood cry nonstop!" Peeves sang a nonsensical rhyme while hurling water balloons at her.

"Peeves, I'm warning you—I'll get mad!" Eve puffed up her cheeks and cast a Levitation Charm, freezing the water balloons mid-air before sending them back toward Peeves. "Don't call me a Mudblood, and don't bother me. I'm busy in the mornings!"

She jogged out of the castle, following the lakeside path as the mist settled on the soil, turning it into sticky mud that clung to her shoes and pants, making her steps heavier.

As she ran, her small face turned bright red, and every breath came out as a puff of vapor in the cool morning air.

When the sky started to lighten, Eve passed Hagrid's hut. The Keeper of Keys and Grounds happened to be stepping out, carrying a massive bow on his back, with his reeking hound Fang by his side. Upon spotting Eve, Hagrid grinned broadly.

"Mornin', Eve! How about some roast rabbit for breakfast? Fang caught one yesterday—I always knew he was a good dog!"

Eve returned his smile warmly. Hagrid was a new friend she'd made since starting her morning runs. Though a bit intimidating, she genuinely liked him. "Good morning, Hagrid. Are you going hunting?"

"Aye, seems there's a new neighbor in the Forbidden Forest. Been dodgin' me so far, but they can't avoid me forever. Eve, when you're headin' back, drop by for some rabbit. If I'm not here, it'll be in the fireplace—grab one skewer, no, two skewers!" Hagrid waved his large hand and set off toward the Forbidden Forest with Fang in tow.

Eve ran along the lakeside, occasionally greeting the merpeople who poked their heads above the water. By the time the sun was fully up, she had circled Hogwarts once, her body lightly glistening with sweat.

She cast a charm to freshen herself up, then stopped by Hagrid's hut to enjoy two skewers of roast rabbit. In return, she made a Muggle-style salad for him before finally heading back to the Slytherin dormitory.

By then, some of the younger witches and wizards were already awake, reciting key points of magical history for their upcoming exams. Others, particularly couples, were taking advantage of the cozy warmth near the common room fireplace to get some early-morning cuddles. As Eve entered the room, she was immediately met with strange and hostile gazes.

Lowering her head, Eve avoided any conversation with the older students. She knew better than to expect anything but ridicule from Slytherin upperclassmen.

Back in her dormitory, she changed out of her workout clothes and sat at her desk to review her coursework.

"Good morning, Eve… You're up so early," a voice greeted her warmly. If anyone in the dormitory were to speak to her kindly, it would undoubtedly be Alicia.

"Good morning, Alicia," Eve responded with a sweet smile.

"Tch, just a filthy Mudblood. No matter how hard you study, what good will it do?" The sneering voice belonged to either Camille Smith or Laura Cook, who always delighted in calling Eve a "Mudblood."

"I'm not a Mudblood," Eve whispered timidly, her voice trembling.

"Oh, but you are!"

"Camille, don't bother with her. She's just trying to play the diligent student to win Nolan's favor. But we all know Nolan doesn't care about her type."

"Exactly! What a waste of effort. Pathetic!"

The two roommates giggled as they left to begin their elegant and cheerful day.

Eve, however, sat quietly for a while, her shoulders drooping in sadness. Poor girl—every time she was called a Mudblood, it stung deeply. After a brief moment of dejection, she refocused on her studies. By around eight o'clock, she would rouse a still half-asleep Alicia to head out.

At the same time, Nolan would often be dragged out of bed like a lifeless corpse by Miles. The group of young Slytherins would head to the Great Hall for breakfast together.

After classes, Eve would join the Slytherin Quidditch team for practice, sweating it out on the field. She had quickly become the team's rising star, their secret weapon, and everyone was thrilled to have her on board.

After practice, Eve would dive into her homework. On days when she finished early and had extra time, she would visit various professors for additional tutoring.

Her packed schedule often stretched until eleven o'clock at night. Only when she felt utterly exhausted would she finally collapse into bed.

Watching Eve's busy, determined routine, Nolan muttered under his breath, "She really works hard."

From the side, Alicia, usually absentminded, made a rare, pointed comment: "And who do you think she's working so hard for?"


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