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54.38% Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince / Chapter 62: 62: But Magic Can’t Beat a Machine Gun

Chapter 62: 62: But Magic Can’t Beat a Machine Gun

Seeing Eve's confused expression, Nolan sighed softly and began to explain in a low voice, "Although Professor Dumbledore might not tell you this, I think it's crucial for you to understand the current state of the wizarding world. Take the most powerful offensive spell, the Killing Curse—Avada Kedavra—as an example. It's strong, yes. Once it hits, it kills unconditionally, and spells like Protego can't block it. But it has its drawbacks: short range, low accuracy, and high magic consumption. A typical adult wizard would exhaust their magical energy after casting it five to eight times. Dark wizards, accustomed to using such magic, might last three to five times longer. Still, it's not a particularly efficient weapon.

"Now consider the Lee-Enfield rifle, the standard firearm once used by Muggles in Britain. It has a range of 1,000 yards, fires bullets at incredible speeds, and a headshot guarantees instant death. While it can be blocked by a Protego charm, the speed of the bullet makes it almost impossible to intercept. This rifle entered service over a century ago, with over seventeen million units produced.

"When we compare them, it's evident that Muggle weapons are not significantly inferior to wizarding magic. In some ways, they're superior—mass-producible and sufficiently lethal. But what about dark wizards? How many are there in the UK? Perhaps a thousand?

"It's a numbers game."

This was something Eve had never thought about—perhaps something she would never have considered on her own.

Nolan picked up the small silver tiara from the display and gently placed it on the silver-haired girl's head. His fingertips brushed against her forehead, sweeping away a few stray locks before tucking them neatly behind her ear. The closeness of the gesture left the young witch blushing furiously.

As he adjusted the tiara, Nolan continued in a soft, almost detached tone, "A thousand years ago, the founders of Hogwarts—those four great wizards—built the school as a fortress to protect themselves from Muggles. Back then, Hogwarts was essentially a battlefield stronghold. Picture the suits of armor in the halls today; those were enchanted soldiers who fought in wars a millennium ago. The moving staircases and confusing labyrinth-like corridors weren't designed for convenience—they were strategic defenses against Muggle invaders.

"Even a thousand years ago, wizards were weaker than Muggles; otherwise, they wouldn't have needed a fortress like Hogwarts. A thousand years later, the wizarding world has made almost no progress. Magical development has been painfully slow, and there isn't even a proper military. The wizarding world's armed force consists of about a hundred Aurors, while during World War II, Muggles deployed tanks, submarines, and bombers—entire armies larger than the total wizard population.

"I don't know when wizards will finally wake up from their stupidity and arrogance, but I'll say this: magic has never been a much valid reason for their pride."

For vampires—particularly the Von Draugr family, who had long entangled themselves with the Muggle world—wizards were not superior beings, and magic was not a weapon to be feared. The Killing Curse couldn't even end the life of a powerful vampire, but a well-placed silver bullet could obliterate one's skull.

Eve listened, her expression caught between understanding and confusion. She was, after all, a naïve girl in many ways. 

"But what about that Dark Lord from a decade ago? Didn't he say he wanted to destroy the Muggles?" she asked timidly.

"That was his stupidity," Nolan replied without hesitation. "Dumbledore went to such great lengths to stop him, not to protect Muggles, but to prevent the Dark Lord from provoking them and bringing disaster upon all wizards. Dumbledore has always been protecting wizards, not Muggles. But the Dark Lord couldn't see that. His arrogance blinded him. If dark wizards truly had the power to annihilate Muggles, Dumbledore would have been the most terrifying Muggle-killer the world has ever seen."

As he spoke, Nolan led Eve by the hand, strolling through the BlazeSilver store. Occasionally, he would pluck a beautifully crafted hairpin or a pair of earrings from the displays and hand them to her, asking her to try them on.

While they walked, Nolan continued in his calm tone, "This is why our family, the Von Draugrs, prefers not to associate with wizards. They're not shrewd enough. They're too arrogant, too foolish. Our family is deeply rooted in the Muggle world—fashion, pharmaceuticals, heavy industry, even armaments. This store is just Felicia's personal hobby. You can see the jewelry here; most of it was designed by her. Her mind is full of strange and fascinating ideas, but I must admit, she has impeccable taste.

"Oh, this necklace is particularly nice. It seems eager to stay with you."

Nolan picked up a silver necklace adorned with a ruby that gleamed like a drop of blood. He gently clasped it around Eve's delicate neck, letting his fingers linger for a moment.

Eve brushed her fingertips against the ruby, her small face turning as red as the gemstone.

Nolan studied her flushed expression for a moment before adding in a quieter voice, "Your mother could work here if she'd like. If she's not good at sales, her salary might not be very high, but it should be enough to cover your Hogwarts tuition. If she does well, Felicia won't hesitate to offer bonuses or commissions. It could allow you both to live comfortably in the Muggle world."

Eve froze at his words, her petite frame trembling slightly. She lifted her head, her tearful eyes gazing at Nolan with a mixture of emotions. After a long pause, she murmured, "Why are you so kind to me?"

She showed an expression that the fragile little girl from a year ago would never have displayed.

The hardships of the past year had forced her to grow up quickly.

Growth is often a good thing, but to mature under such circumstances was anything but normal. It signified that the girl had endured a gray, desolate adolescence.

Nolan pondered for a moment before replying, "I wonder about that myself."

"You're always so special to me..."

"I suppose I am. Perhaps it's because you taught me how to interact with people. No, you didn't teach me anything directly—I learned on my own. But honestly, that doesn't matter. What matters is that I want you to stay at Hogwarts, Eve. That would make me happy."

Hearing that her mother could work at BlazeSilver, Eve's mother became visibly excited. Perhaps no woman could resist the allure of luxury items. Even if they weren't hers to own, simply being surrounded by these treasures was enough to bring her joy.

The silver-haired woman looked radiant in her fitted blazer uniform, her appearance youthful and striking. Nolan guessed she was in her early thirties, but she could easily pass for a woman of twenty-five or twenty-six.

Seeing her mother so happy, Eve was overjoyed as well. The two embraced, laughing like a pair of sisters with a slight age gap.

For Eve, this might well have been the best day of the year—a bright spot after enduring so much despair.

Leaving Eve and her mother in the store, Nolan stepped outside. Hagrid and the Boy Who Lived had been waiting out front, and they stood out like a sore thumb. This wasn't just because Hagrid resembled an overweight Mexican grizzly bear; it was also due to his loud, animated commentary on Muggle objects.

"Look at that, Harry! I don't know what it is, but it's another one of those strange contraptions Muggles have come up with, isn't it?"

Hearing this, Harry couldn't help but laugh, though he tried to hide it behind a hand.

Nolan observed them quietly, a faint smile playing on his lips. While BlazeSilver symbolized the practicality and sophistication of the Von Draugr family's ventures in the Muggle world, there was a certain charm in Hagrid's unabashed fascination with everything he didn't understand.

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

Patreon Advance Chapters: patreon .com / HPdreamer


Chapter 63: 63: The New Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

Nolan's mood was currently in shambles.

Not only did he have to remind the half-giant not to point at every Muggle thing he saw or loudly complain about cars that "almost hit him" (when it was clearly Hagrid who ignored traffic rules), but he also had to deal with the endless barrage of questions from the Boy Who Lived.

"Nolan—can I call you Nolan? This is my first time in London! I saw record shops, burger joints, secondhand bookstores, but I didn't see a single shop selling wands!"

"You said Gringotts holds the gold my parents left me, but where exactly do they store it? Underground?"

"Flying broomsticks? Is that what you used last night to find me? Can they really fly? Can I try one too?"

"Are all Hogwarts witches as pretty and cute as Miss Stock? Is that what they're like?"

Annoyed beyond reason, Nolan bought two oversized hamburgers, shoving one into Harry's mouth and the other into Hagrid's, in the desperate hope that they'd stop talking.

Harry Potter seemed thrilled, chewing on the burger with unrestrained joy, as though he'd never eaten anything so delicious—even if it was just cheap fast food. For Hagrid, however, the burger barely made an impact; he swallowed it in a few bites without much chewing.

And so, with relative peace restored, the trio made their way to the Leaky Cauldron.

"This here is the Leaky Cauldron," Hagrid said proudly, gesturing at the small, shabby pub. "A famous place for wizards. You'll only find our kind in here."

"What about people who aren't wizards? I mean, Muggles. Why don't they come here?" Harry asked curiously.

"Oh, that? Well, I reckon they don't like the name. You know how Muggles are—they like those weird, fancy names for their shops," Hagrid replied, waving the question off with a vague answer.

Nolan sighed, rubbing his temples. "There's a Muggle-Repelling Charm cast on this pub. When Muggles try to enter, they suddenly remember some urgent matter and leave in a hurry."

As if on cue, a young couple approached the Leaky Cauldron, seemingly intrigued by the pub. Before they could step inside, however, an argument broke out between them. The woman ended the fight with a slap that left a red handprint on the man's cheek before storming off in anger.

Nolan smirked, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. "Like that."

Harry stared, utterly dumbfounded. After a moment, he murmured, "That's… really effective."

The Leaky Cauldron was a grimy little place. Its patrons consisted of wrinkled old witches and balding wizards who entertained themselves by encouraging their pet toads to fight each other. The moment the trio entered, the chatter in the pub ceased abruptly.

The barkeep, Tom, quickly shuffled over to greet them. "Hagrid! And this must be… oh, of course, the Slytherin prince himself, Mr. Von Draugr. We've heard so much about your exploits. What can I get for you today?"

"Nothing for us, Tom," Hagrid said, his massive hand clapping Tom on the shoulder so hard it nearly sent the man to the floor. "We're here on Hogwarts business!" He sounded immensely proud as he said it.

Tom glanced between Nolan and Harry, his eyes widening as realization dawned. "Oh my goodness… Could it be? Is this… the great Harry Potter? Welcome, Mr. Potter! Welcome!"

And with that, the Leaky Cauldron hosted an impromptu fan meet-and-greet for Harry Potter.

Nolan crossed his arms, leaning casually against the counter as he watched the spectacle unfold. He couldn't help but think that this so-called savior of the wizarding world might also be the youngest child star in all of Britain.

Hagrid stood to the side, his eyes brimming with tears. To Nolan, the half-giant resembled a proud father overwhelmed by his son's fame. Wiping at his reddened eyes with a massive hand, Hagrid sniffled, "He's really something, isn't he?"

Nolan, as indifferent as ever, replied, "Sure. Everyone wants to meet him—or, more accurately, his scar. Let's just hope Potter doesn't mind being less famous than his own forehead."

As Harry Potter was being swept into a whirlwind of handshakes and praise, his head spinning from the surreal experience, a pale young man wrapped in a large turban stumbled toward them. His movements were jerky, his facial muscles twitching uncontrollably, and his hands trembled as though afflicted by a severe case of the jitters. When he finally managed to speak, his words came out in stutters: "P-P-Potter! It's s-s-so wonderful t-to m-meet you!"

Hagrid beamed. "Oh, Harry, this here's Professor Quirrell! He's one of your professors at Hogwarts!"

Nolan raised an eyebrow. "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

Upon noticing Nolan, Quirrell's mouth formed a perfect "O." "Oh, M-M-Merlin! It's Von Draugr!" He shuffled nervously toward Nolan and began shaking his hand vigorously. "I-I'm taking over f-f-from Miss Draugr's p-position! I've heard s-s-she was a b-brilliant professor!"

Nolan gave Quirrell a long, meaningful look before sighing. "Felicia certainly was brilliant. Whether she was suited for Defense Against the Dark Arts, though… I'm not so sure. Much like you, Professor Quirrell."

"T-T-That's amazing, Von Draugr," Quirrell stammered, though Nolan couldn't tell what exactly he found so amazing. "I-I'm off to buy a n-n-new book about v-v-vampires. Perhaps we c-c-could talk sometime?"

With a faint smile, Nolan narrowed his eyes and spoke slowly, each word deliberate. "Perhaps you wouldn't want to know more about vampires… not once you've truly met one. And dealt with him personally."

Quirrell's nervous rambling came to an abrupt end. Without another word, he turned and fled, his footsteps uneven and hurried.

Hagrid grabbed Harry, still dazed from all the attention, and guided him toward the back of the pub. As they walked, he said, "Poor Quirrell. He was a brilliant Slytherin in his day, clever as anything—just like Von Draugr here. Everyone thought he'd achieve great things. But then he went off to the Scottish Highlands, ran into vampires, and crossed paths with an old hag. He hasn't been the same since. Now he's scared of everything—even his own subject."

Harry didn't seem to be listening. The young boy was staring at his right hand, the one that had been shaken by so many strangers. For someone who had never experienced kindness on such a scale, the attention was overwhelming.

Hagrid let out a hearty laugh and clapped Harry on the back with such force that the boy nearly toppled over. "Told ya, didn't I, Harry? You're famous! Once we get to Hogwarts, it won't be Von Draugr who's the most famous student anymore—it'll be you!"

Harry glanced at Nolan, his face lighting up with curiosity. "Are you really that famous too?"

Nolan frowned slightly, lowering his voice. "I wouldn't say that. Fame isn't always a good thing, Harry. Not by a long shot."

"Oh, nonsense, Von Draugr!" Hagrid interjected, laughing. "Fame's a great thing! Every young witch and wizard dreams of being famous!"

With that, Hagrid tapped his battered pink umbrella against the wall of the Leaky Cauldron. The bricks shifted and rearranged themselves, revealing an arched doorway that led to a bustling street beyond.

"Welcome," Hagrid announced grandly, gesturing toward the opening. "Welcome to Diagon Alley."

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

Patreon Advance Chapters: patreon .com / HPdreamer


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