Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince

"By the way, have I mentioned this before? Bai got accepted into a private all-girls school," Cho said hesitantly, her voice tinged with worry. "I don't know how she's doing there. You know how bad discrimination against Asians can be here in England. Bai has always been tough at home, but if she's being bullied at school, she'd never tell us about it."

Nolan led Cho into an empty classroom, sat on a desk, and pulled her onto his lap. "Children like her—the ones who bottle everything up—need someone to talk to the most. This Christmas, you should've gone to visit her at her school."

"I thought about it…" Cho's face turned a deep shade of pink. "But Bai firmly told me not to. I think she's starting to hate me."

Nolan gently stroked her hair, resting his chin on her small head. "She's not angry at you. She's jealous—jealous that you can practice magic while she can't. She doesn't know where to direct her frustration, but maybe she blames your mother. After all, she's a Muggle. If she were a witch, Bai could have come to Hogwarts unless she were a Squib."

"She does resent Mom..." Cho sighed deeply, her breath carrying the weight of unspoken thoughts.

It was then she noticed Nolan's hand had somehow found its way to her waist. Cho knew she should protest, but… she didn't. No, she should have protested, but there was something magnetic about Nolan at night. He had a dangerous allure, a charm that seemed to draw every female creature toward him indiscriminately.

Her rational mind screamed that this was dangerous—her instincts flared with warning sirens. Yet, it was as if a venomous spell had taken hold, and the little Ravenclaw girl found herself sinking deeper and deeper into his spell.

"There's something so different about you at night. Why is that, Nolan?" Cho murmured, her dazed eyes meeting his. She licked her dry lips, her gaze soft and shimmering like dew.

"I've warned you before," Nolan whispered close to her ear, his voice a silken thread of caution. "I'm dangerous at night. Agreeing to meet me after dark… that was your mistake. One you'll regret someday."

"Maybe…" Cho responded uncertainly, her voice barely audible.

Two hours later, as midnight struck, Nolan finally walked Cho back. She seemed reluctant to leave, as if convinced that the Nolan she had just seen might never appear again.

"Can I ask… what exactly is our relationship now?" she asked softly, her voice trembling with emotion. Then, barely a second later, she changed her mind, shaking her head. "No, forget it. I don't want to know."

"You've hurt her feelings, Nolan," came a voice from the seemingly empty air. Dumbledore stepped out from the shadows, his piercing blue eyes twinkling even in the dim light.

Nolan pouted and shrugged dismissively. "Professor Dumbledore, what a sneaky move. You've got a terrible personality."

"Respecting privacy is part of my ethos," Dumbledore replied with an amused glint, though his tone carried a hint of seriousness. "I hope you'll treat them with care—Miss Stock and Miss Chang are both remarkable young witches."

"Oh, please, Professor." Nolan sighed heavily, shaking his head. "We vampires don't follow the one-partner rule that you wizards are so fond of. Our way is simple: if we desire someone, we take her home and bond her with our blood. Now, what happened? Don't tell me it's nothing. You wouldn't be here unless something important came up."

"Just a little goodnight chat with a charming student," Dumbledore said with a chuckle, pulling a strand of golden hair from his pocket and handing it to Nolan. "Familiar, isn't it? I thought you might recognize it."

"I do," Nolan replied, his crimson eyes narrowing as he examined the strand. "Where did you find this?"

"In the room where the Mirror of Erised was kept."

"What?"

"The Mirror of Erised," Dumbledore repeated calmly. After a moment of silence, he sighed. "During Christmas, Harry became far too fascinated with the mirror. I had to move it. You know how the mirror can intoxicate the lonely-hearted."

"You don't need to keep reminding me he's just a boy," Nolan said coolly. "In truth, your so-called savior is a reckless fool. I believe he has some kind of connection with the Dark Lord. Right now, Voldemort is at Hogwarts, and his scar must be warning him, yet that idiot still insists on sneaking around the castle at night. I can't imagine what he's thinking."

"Muggle-born wizards often dismiss certain intuitions, believing them to be unscientific," Dumbledore sighed, his expression heavy. Perhaps he regretted not revealing the truth about Harry Potter's origins when the boy was younger. "But as we both know, intuition is invaluable, and for witches, it is especially potent."

Nolan gave no response, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand. "So you found this hair in the room where the Mirror of Erised was kept? If I'm not mistaken, you intended to hide the Philosopher's Stone inside the mirror?"

"Ah..." Dumbledore hesitated, visibly caught off guard. After a moment, he conceded, "You truly are different at night."

"Enough of that—I've known for a while now," Nolan replied impatiently, dismissing Dumbledore's remark with a wave of his hand. He raised the golden strand of hair. "Elf hair, Professor. This is elf hair. We have reason to believe an elf is eyeing your Philosopher's Stone."

"Not my Philosopher's Stone," Dumbledore corrected firmly, his tone slightly petulant. "It belongs to Nicolas Flamel; I'm merely safeguarding it."

Nolan ignored the distinction. "We can't be certain whether the elves are aligned with the Dark Lord."

"Oh, I doubt it. Elves are inherently pure beings," Dumbledore said, though his voice carried a trace of unease.

"If the elves aren't working with the Dark Lord, then we have an even bigger problem, Professor," Nolan countered, his tone sharp. "At least two factions are hunting the Philosopher's Stone—one led by the notorious Dark Lord, and another involving mysterious elves. We can't allow Hogwarts to become their battleground. There are students here."

Dumbledore raised his brows, seemingly impressed by Nolan's stance. It appeared he hoped to solidify the alliance between the Draugr family and the wizarding world before the inevitable confrontation with Voldemort.

"Can we use tracking magic, Professor?"

"Oh, that would be exceedingly difficult. But it's not entirely impossible. I can amplify the scent left on this hair."

"And I," Nolan said with a sly smile, tapping his nose, "possess a nose sensitive enough to track even the faintest of unique scents."

Dumbledore nodded, his wand tapping the golden hair. Instantly, a rich aroma of fresh grass filled the air, the scent so vivid that Nolan's heightened senses—sharpened even further by the night—picked it up effortlessly.

The two exchanged a brief glance, a silent understanding passing between them, before Nolan turned and followed the trail of the scent, his movements swift and purposeful.

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