Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince

A figure emerged from the corner of the street.

He was frail, his body reeking of blood, muttering incomprehensible Italian under his breath.

From Nolan's sleeve, the white snake, Sheila, slithered out, hissing softly.

"Get back, Sheila. This one's my prey," Nolan said coldly. Sheila let out another series of hisses but reluctantly retreated, disappearing into his sleeve once more.

Eve tensed. For a moment, she thought they had stumbled upon a killer as infamous as Jack the Ripper.

Clutching the hem of Nolan's coat, she whispered nervously, "Nolan, can we… can we run away?"

"Run away? No," Nolan replied indifferently. Without turning around, he gestured behind him with a casual flick of his finger. "Stay back there. Protect yourself. Remember everything I've taught you—combat is simple. Attack and defend. That's all."

Eve gave a small nod and hurried to the rear, leaving Nolan standing alone.

In his left hand, he drew out his unicorn wand, while his right hand flicked open a silver folding knife with a crisp snap. The blade shimmered coldly under the faint light.

"Come on then, bastard."

"...Vampire..." The boy's voice dripped with madness.

"That's right. A vampire," Nolan whispered, his lips curving into a sharp grin. In the next instant, he struck.

"Expelliarmus!"

A flash of red light tore through the alley. The knife in the boy's hand was blasted away, clattering against the stones.

Staggering back a few steps, the boy barely regained his balance before Nolan was already in front of him.

The folding knife slashed down, a glint of steel cutting through the air. It tore across the boy's skin—only to stop short.

"Iron!?" Nolan's eyes widened. "You're one of the Church's lunatics!"

The boy let out a deranged chuckle, gripping the folding knife's blade with his bare hand. From his pocket, he pulled out a small spray canister.

A sharp hiss followed as he sprayed it directly at Nolan.

"Ventus!" Nolan cast immediately, summoning a gust of wind that scattered the mist into the air.

Taking a step back, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Highly concentrated garlic extract..."

He had nearly severed the boy's head just moments ago, but to his surprise, the skin beneath the surface was reinforced—an iron plate hidden under flesh.

The boy threw his head back and laughed maniacally, spitting out several lines in Italian before switching to English.

"Because of vampires like you, I became... this!"

The Church's enemies were demons. That had always been the belief.

But vampires weren't demons. Nowhere in the Bible did it speak of vampires.

Yet the Church could not ignore their existence. Vampires were creatures of dark magic. The rogue ones attacked Muggles, infecting them with madness and unleashing chaos upon the world.

To keep such vampires in check, the Church needed hunters. The previous Saint had been one—born with inhuman strength, trained from childhood in martial arts. But she had fallen three years ago at the hands of the Von Draugr family.

And in their desperation to find a replacement, what had the Church done?

They built one.

The boy standing before Nolan, madness flickering in his eyes, was likely the result of that experiment.

"Steel bones in his arms and legs… A damn human weapon," Nolan muttered, retreating slightly. Even he could hardly believe the extent of the Church's insanity.

Sixty percent of the boy's body had been transformed into metal. Nolan couldn't even fathom how he was still alive.

"My only reason to live is to kill vampires… But why? Why am I told I can't? Why are there vampires I shouldn't kill? I don't understand... I don't understand... If I'm not meant to kill you all, then why am I alive? Why haven't I died yet?"

The boy rambled incoherently, dropping the pack slung across his back. From it, he pulled out a large wooden cross.

"Only low-tier vampires are harmed by crosses," Nolan sighed, lazily flicking his wand to send the object flying away with another disarming spell.

"Damn it! I have to kill you! I have to! I can't let you live!" The boy howled, drawing another silver knife from his belt. Predictably, it was blasted away by another flick of Nolan's wand.

The boy's face crumbled in despair.

"You… you're not like the others... How am I supposed to kill you? I… I don't know how..."

Nolan heard the crunch of footsteps behind him. Eve had approached, her voice hesitant.

"Is he…?"

"A vampire hunter trained by the Church," Nolan replied coldly. "You know how the Church operates. They love their chemical solutions—altering the body's structure with those strange concoctions to create powerful warriors. But this time… it seems they overdosed him. The solution destroyed what little sense he had left."

Eve shook her head, unable to listen any longer. "He's… pitiful…"

"Pitiful? Not in the slightest. He's nothing more than a filthy lapdog of the Church," Nolan said, his voice devoid of sympathy. With a flick of his wand, a powerful force struck the deranged boy, sending him flying back five meters.

The boy screeched as he skidded to a stop—still on his feet.

"Oh?" The boy's head snapped up, a flicker of light in his eyes—only to catch the glint of two red beams slicing toward him from the side.

He twisted his body in desperation, raising his arm to block. Nolan's fist met it squarely with a bone-crunching impact.

A sickening crack echoed as the iron skeleton beneath the boy's skin shattered beneath Nolan's punch.

Springing into the air, Nolan spun—a sharp roundhouse kick slamming into the boy's chest and launching him further into the alley. Without hesitation, he pointed his wand.

"Sectumsempra."

A gust of razor-sharp air slashed across the boy's body. Yet barely any blood escaped.

The boy hit the ground with a heavy thud, as if a slab of iron had fallen instead of a human body.

Nolan approached slowly, his crimson eyes narrowing. "You can take quite a beating. You'd be a nightmare for most vampires..."

"K-kill… kill the vampire…" The boy's voice trembled—fragmented and broken.

With another flick of his wand, Nolan whispered, "Fiendfyre."

A burst of demonic flames erupted from the tip of his wand, roaring to life and engulfing the boy in an instant.

Black and white fire twisted and spiraled, devouring flesh in seconds. What remained was not a corpse—but a steel skeleton gleaming in the firelight, like some grotesque machine.

"Nolan…" Eve called from a safe distance, her voice fragile. "I need to know… what are you? A wizard or… something else?"

Nolan slid his hands casually into his pockets, standing amidst the writhing flames as if the winter's moonlight had carved him from stone. "What do you think?"

Eve couldn't see his face—only those two glowing, blood-red eyes shimmering in the dark.

"I… I think you're a vampire," she whispered, her voice cracking. "But I don't want to believe it… I should have realized sooner. You don't eat normal food—just tomatoes… and tomato juice. You can't wake up during the day, and you're always so mysterious. And Professor Von Draugr… you said she was old… She really is old, isn't she?"

"Smart girl," Nolan said softly, a faint trace of admiration in his voice. "And now? If I tell you you're right… what will you do? Report me to Hogwarts? Inform the Ministry? Or…" His eyes flickered with a dangerous gleam. "Will you do nothing… and simply stay away from me?"