Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince

Overall, Nolan was a likable guy.

Not just the witches thought so—the professors agreed as well.

Even Professor Binns and Professor Snape, two individuals (or rather, one ghost and one wizard) who had little in common with Nolan, probably shared this opinion.

The reason?

Oh, of course, my friend. There was certainly a reason.

The witches adored him because Nolan was undeniably handsome, a reliable wizard, and, as a bonus, incredibly wealthy. These solid advantages made our little vampire quite popular in the magical social scene. As for his terrible temper and reluctance to smile… well, who cared? In fact, some witches thought his personality was rather cool.

As for the professors, they appreciated Nolan for an entirely different reason—his remarkable learning ability.

The term "innate knowledge" might sound mystical, but it was the only way to describe Nolan's talent. He wasn't particularly diligent; compared to some Ravenclaws, he was practically lazy.

However, his sharp mind and broad perspective more than made up for this, coupled with his naturally vast magical reserves. These traits made Nolan born to be a seeker of magic.

Nolan was easy to teach—this was common knowledge among the professors.

Subjects like Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions, which were usually difficult for most students, came naturally to him. His ability to grasp concepts was simply extraordinary.

But if there was one professor who didn't like Nolan—or perhaps even feared him—it would undoubtedly be…

Professor Gilderoy Lockhart!

By early February, a restless atmosphere filled the halls of Hogwarts.

Valentine's Day was fast approaching, and the witches eagerly discussed who planned to give chocolates to whom, and which couples looked the most magical together.

As for the young wizards, they were all busy trying to impress their crushes. After all, no one wanted to wake up on Valentine's morning to find a chocolate box addressed to their crush sitting on their roommate's desk. That would turn the day into a tragedy.

Miles Bletchley was among those caught up in the excitement.

"Did you know, Alicia? Nolan thinks my idea is brilliant!" he whispered to the young witch sitting beside him. "Nolan agrees that we wizards should create a fantasy film. I even wrote a script for it! It's called The Amazing Adventures of Mr. Bletchley, and the main character is a young, talented wizard—just like me. One day, I'll direct and star in it myself! What do you think? I'll become a superstar in the Muggle world! My personal interviews will be featured in People magazine, and at the same time, The Daily Prophet will spread my name throughout the wizarding world! They'll all know that I am the best wizard director and actor!"

Miles spoke with great enthusiasm.

His audience, however—Miss Alicia—listened with a rather unimpressed expression. When his lengthy speech finally came to an end, she let out a deep sigh and said, "That's wonderful, Miles. You're my idol. Really, I've never admired anyone more."

"You finally get it!" Miles beamed in delight.

Alicia wasn't as cute as Eve, with her long face and dense freckles making her look rather plain. But her warm personality made her well-liked by everyone.

Back in their first year, Miles had been one of the least popular Slytherins, and Alicia was the only witch willing to befriend him. From that moment on, she had occupied a special place in his heart.

Of course, now he sometimes regretted it—because she found him absolutely insufferable!

"Really, your shamelessness and delusions are truly awe-inspiring. So at least for now, could you let me have a moment of peace? I can't even hear the professor's lecture."

"You really admire me that much?" Miles grinned, completely unfazed by her sarcasm. He only cared about the compliments. "Come on, Alicia, don't be like that! This is Lockhart's ridiculous Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I'd bet my broomstick that even if you listened to him for a lifetime, you wouldn't learn a single useful spell. If he had any real skills, then why has Nolan never attended his class?"

That's right. This conversation was happening during Defense Against the Dark Arts.

By now, it seemed that Professor Lockhart had given up on even pretending to be a competent teacher. Ever since the disastrous lesson where he unleashed Cornish Pixies upon the class, he had stopped trying altogether. Instead, he spent the lessons reading aloud from his (obviously fabricated) adventure novels, picking out what seemed like "valuable" passages for the students to copy.

"Lockhart must have lost his mind," Montague muttered from the front row, sighing as he leaned back in his chair. He whispered to the others, "We already know that the weakness of an old hag is her mind. In fact, not only do I know that, I also know that their other weakness is their heart. But the real question is, how do I destroy both her brain and heart… Or rather, how do I even survive an encounter with an old hag? Am I supposed to recommend toilet cleaner to her, like in the book?"

The mischievous Camille turned around, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Who knows? Maybe you could seduce her. Maybe swamp hags are really into your type, Montague."

"We all know that Professor Lockhart's novels are entertaining," Alicia said, idly scratching at her parchment with her quill. "He's a talented writer and a clever businessman. But as Nolan often says… as a professor, he's just…"

The Slytherin students all let out a collective sigh.

This year, they had learned absolutely nothing in Defense Against the Dark Arts. They had even begun to miss their previous professors… Yes, both of them. Not just Professor Felicia Von Draugr, but even the paranoid and slightly unhinged Quirrell was starting to seem preferable in hindsight.

"What's wrong, my dear students?" Lockhart suddenly stood up, removing his golden glasses with a flourish. "Is the lesson too difficult?"

"No, Professor Lockhart," Montague sighed. "It's just that… while your ideas about charming imps and driving gnomes out of their burrows with manure are certainly interesting, could we—just maybe—learn something more useful?"

"Oh, of course, of course, my dear boy." Lockhart's eyes gleamed as he waved his wand dramatically, striking a pose as if he were a grand hero. Though he was overly flamboyant, he certainly had a flair for showmanship. With great enthusiasm, he declared, "When I was your age, I often dreamed of becoming a powerful wizard—just like all of you! I imagined myself armed with nothing but a wand, bravely facing the forces of darkness. I know that some of you aspire to be as famous as I am. But for now, we must start with the basics. Before you can become great wizards, I, Gilderoy Lockhart, will protect you from the forces of darkness! Alright?"

"...But…" Montague started to protest, then hesitated. Finally, he just sighed and threw up his hands in surrender. "Fine, you're the professor. Whatever you say."