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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The door of the Leaky Cauldron swung open with a loud clank.
Inside, the usual crowd of elderly witches gossiping at their tables barely spared a glance.
Upon seeing it was just a young, pretty witch, they promptly lost interest.
Behind the counter, Tom, the bartender, was polishing glasses. He looked up briefly.
"Good morning, Miss Chang. Just you today?"
"No, I'm not alone. I'm meeting Nolan!" Cho Chang's breath hitched with excitement as she scanned the bar.
When she saw no sign of Nolan, she sighed in relief.
"Merlin's beard, I hope I'm not late. Mum caught me before I left and kept me talking. I had to run two blocks just to catch the bus. I must look a mess…"
Tom kindly slid a glass of butterbeer toward her and resumed wiping his glass.
"You look splendid, Miss Chang."
Cho pulled out a small mirror, inspecting herself from every angle.
Her fingers quickly smoothed out her bangs—no way was she going to take Tom's word for it.
Wizards, after all, weren't exactly known for their fashion sense. Compliments on appearance? Questionable at best.
"Thanks, Uncle Tom."
Satisfied with her reflection, Cho took a sip of butterbeer, feeling a little giddy.
It had been over a month since she last saw Nolan.
Sure, she had sent him letters throughout the summer, but his replies were sparse, and when he did write back, it was rarely more than a few words.
Frustrating as it was, today would be different.
Today was their first date.
Her first date.
Cho was certain—Nolan, for all his intelligence, was just as hopeless at this sort of thing.
Sharing their firsts… it made the whole thing feel a little more special.
"Uncle Tom, has Nolan been by Diagon Alley this summer?" she asked casually.
"Nolan? Oh, you mean Mr. Von Draugr… Yes, he stopped by once. Early this month. He was with Hagrid."
"With Hagrid? That giant? That's… odd for Nolan."
Cho frowned.
"I always wonder, Uncle Tom—how do you remember so many people? Feels like you know half the wizards in Britain."
Tom grinned, his crooked teeth gleaming.
"To understand that, you'd need more than just a sharp mind, young lady. A few drops of memory potion here and there don't hurt either. When you're in my line of work, you hear enough gossip to fill a book. Might as well put some of it to use."
His grin, though far from attractive, was oddly endearing.
At that moment, the door creaked open again.
Cho's heart skipped.
Nolan?
She turned eagerly, but her excitement evaporated the second she saw who it was.
"Oh. Eve," Cho muttered, masking her disappointment with a forced indifference.
"Nice to see you."
She didn't sound nice at all.
A girl with striking green eyes and dark, cascading hair stepped inside, boots clicking softly against the floor.
"Oh. It's you…" Eve Stock blinked in surprise. Her lips curled into a polite, if slightly guarded, smile.
"Didn't expect to run into you here, Chang."
Once, the two had been friendly enough.
Eve was one of the first people Cho had met on the Hogwarts Express.
But things had shifted since Nolan entered the picture.
Now, their interactions carried the unmistakable weight of rivalry.
Cho glanced at Eve out of the corner of her eye, sensing a subtle change in the other girl.
Something was… different.
Had she grown taller?
Or perhaps it was the sharper definition in her features, the quiet maturity that had settled in.
Eve no longer looked like the shy, soft-spoken first-year from last term.
There was a certain confidence to her now—cool, distant, and composed.
In contrast, Cho herself had changed too.
Gone was the tomboyish streak that lingered throughout her first year at Hogwarts.
She wore a Muggle sundress today, light and flowing, her long black hair straightened to perfection.
Even the stubborn ponytail she usually sported had been let down.
She had taken great care to look her best, and Eve had noticed.
Eve's gaze flickered briefly over Cho's outfit before returning to her eyes.
Cho lifted her chin slightly, daring Eve to say something.
Eve said nothing.
But the tension in the air thickened nonetheless.
The two exchanged awkward greetings before silently retreating to opposite corners of the pub—Cho took a seat in the northeast corner, Eve in the southwest.
Cho's eyes lingered on Eve, who had just pulled out a small mirror, fussing over her unruly silver hair. Her slender fingers worked swiftly to smooth out the flyaways, but Cho could see the faint frustration in Eve's brow.
For a brief moment, something flickered in Cho's gaze—thoughtful, calculating.
Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone.
She sipped her butterbeer, deep in thought. Whatever was brewing in her mind remained a mystery to the rest of the pub.
By the time Cho's drink was nearly finished, Nolan arrived.
Tom offered him a glass of something, but Nolan declined with a polite shake of his head.
His gaze swept across the room, first landing on Cho, then on Eve.
"Good. You're both here," Nolan said, his voice cool as ever. "I've heard Muggle Brits dislike being punctual. Clearly, neither of you share that habit."
"We?" Cho's eyes narrowed.
Something didn't feel right.
Eve opened her mouth, an uneasy smile tugging at her lips.
It barely lasted before she gave up. Nolan's attention wasn't on her.
Nolan's tone softened, as if explaining the obvious. "Yes. You both invited me to Diagon Alley today—on the same day, at the same time. It made sense for us to come together."
His gaze flicked to the pub's clock. "It's 9:40. I'm not late."
Cho's smile stretched thin, but not in a good way.
The agreed-upon time had indeed been 9:40, but Nolan's understanding of punctuality… felt different from normal people's.
Still, that wasn't what bothered her most.
It was Eve.
The girl now standing uncomfortably close to Nolan, as if waiting for something—anything—to be said.
"She's coming with us?" Cho's tone dropped, edged with something sharp. "Nolan, I thought you understood… I asked you out on a date."
"I did understand," Nolan replied smoothly.
He plucked a few Sickles from his pocket, casually tossing them onto the counter to cover both girls' drinks—along with a few extra Knuts for Tom.
"Thanks for looking after them, Tom," he added lightly. "We're heading to Diagon Alley now."
And just like that, Nolan turned toward the back courtyard, Eve trailing close behind.
Cho puffed her cheeks in frustration.
She huffed loudly, leaning on the bar with an exaggerated sigh.
"I really don't understand him…"
As the three young wizards disappeared into the alley behind the pub, Tom glanced at the now-empty room. The stillness settled back in like dust.
He chuckled to himself, resuming his glass-polishing.
"Brave lad," Tom muttered. "Hope he doesn't get cursed to death by one of his witches someday."
…
"There are only two new books this year." Nolan's eyes scanned his supply list as they wandered through Flourish and Blotts.
He tapped the parchment thoughtfully.
"Last year's 'Dark Arts: A Self-Defense Guide' went unused. Felicia didn't bother teaching from it. I'm not sure she could even understand the material herself. This year it's finally required, but…" Nolan tilted the list toward Eve. "I doubt it's worth much. The entire section on werewolves boiled down to one useful line: Avoid them."
He raised an eyebrow. "Brilliant advice."
Eve stifled a giggle, leaning closer to him.
"Maybe most of the textbooks just aren't that helpful to you," she teased, peering over his shoulder to double-check the list.
Her cheek was almost brushing his arm as she scanned the titles.
Truth be told, Eve felt lucky she could continue attending Hogwarts at all.
Before leaving that morning, her mother had slipped her a pouch of coins—more than usual.
Eve recognized the gesture for what it was.
It was her mother's hidden savings, carefully stashed away over the time.
Eve knew better than to spend it frivolously.
She made sure to choose only the essentials.
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