Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince

"Infection is a terrifying concept. Any species capable of spreading itself endlessly poses a threat. Imagine this—if wizards were to go to war with vampires, and the Ministry's bunch of idiots were the first to get infected, turning into vampires... who would we listen to? Where would we aim our wands? Fortunately, infection isn't an unlimited power."

"Let me enlighten you—an exceptional vampire might create over twenty thralls in their lifetime. But such vampires are rare, usually purebloods. Vampires turned from Muggles or wizards are weak, barely able to create a single thrall. Worse still, wizards-turned-vampires find their magic diminished, almost useless. So, the concept of infection isn't as horrifying as we make it out to be. At the very least, you won't have to worry about an army of spell-casting vampires. But then, why exactly do we fear vampires?"

"Centuries ago, Muggles came up with the concept of the food chain—something I must admit is quite novel. Just as owls hunt mice and lizards, and dragons feast on goats, vampires prey on wizards. They favor wizard blood… Yes, there was a dark age when vampires saw us as prey. They were formidable in battle and could steal our best members through infection. Isn't that reason enough for wizards to hold a grudge against them? Listen, friend, no species tolerates being treated like a meal."

"Now, in this modern age thousands of years later, do vampires still see us as food? Regrettably, yes. And those vampires are the ones I just mentioned—the Dark Sect. I'm not sure how to describe them… Fascists, perhaps? Like Slytherins, they are staunch racial supremacists, believing themselves superior and constantly plotting upheaval… Ha! Sound familiar? If you ask me, the Dark Sect vampires are a bunch of lunatics, convinced they can overthrow the world. But can they? If you ask for my opinion, I remain skeptical."

"Now let's talk about the Secret Sect. Listen closely, my friend. If you ever find yourself wandering through a dark forest and stumble upon a vampire, pray that they belong to the Secret Sect. The Secret Sect vampires are pacifists, for the most part. Some of them have fiery tempers, sure, but others are as calm as a still pond. I know a pale-skinned gentleman—so indistinguishable from a Muggle that even my wife mistook him for one. Three years passed before he approached me, politely asking, 'May I have a sip of your blood?'"

"Hahaha! Strange, isn't it? I'm not suggesting you rush to befriend a Secret Sect vampire. These creatures are inherently dark, and expecting them to handle things with the same moral compass as you is foolish. That kind of thinking will only lead to conflict. But you must admit, the Secret Sect vampires aren't as terrifying as you'd expect. They drink blood, attack Muggles, and flaunt their arrogance. Yet, believe it or not, they can also cherish friendships and show loyalty. If, one day, you discover—unfortunately—that your closest friend is a Secret Sect vampire, as I did… let me offer you this advice: If their company brings you peace, don't let their nature bother you too much. After all, they chose to see you as a friend, not a meal."

"Lastly, if you're wondering what to gift these pale-skinned folks for Christmas, a bag of blood-flavored toffees should keep them grinning for a week."

—Chapter 7, Section 4 of What is a Vampire? – The Secret and Dark Sects."

Upon returning to Hogwarts, Eve's gaze immediately settled on the House Point hourglasses.

Slytherin held the highest score, towering over the second-place Ravenclaw by more than two hundred points.

Every young Slytherin who passed the hourglasses seemed to puff their chest with pride, boasting to the other three houses about their undeniable excellence. Oh, and of course, they delighted in flaunting their Christmas gifts too.

Malcolm Baddock was particularly eager to share the news of his "wicked cool" new broomstick, a Christmas present. He spent the holiday soaring through the skies—nearly colliding with a Muggle helicopter in the process.

Coincidentally, Draco Malfoy claimed the same story. However, compared to Malcolm, Draco seemed to possess a flair for dramatics. His tale was far more thrilling—The Great Draco, mid-flight on his brand-new broom, was targeted by an armed Muggle helicopter!

According to Draco, the Muggles had opened fire without hesitation. Narrowly escaping death, Draco not only evaded capture but also personally took down the Muggle helicopter in a daring act of vengeance!

The two boys continued to bicker at the entrance hall over whose broom was superior. Yet, when someone asked them to produce the brooms for inspection, Draco's expression soured immediately.

"Besides that privileged git, Potter, no first-year is allowed to bring their broom to school. You know that!" Draco snapped.

Malcolm, on the other hand, dodged the subject entirely, offering vague excuses and hoping everyone would believe he had simply forgotten his broom at home.

Eve had no interest in their childish boasting. Her gaze remained fixed on the emerald hourglass, just like every other proud Slytherin reveling in the glory of their House Cup lead.

Before the holidays, the hourglass wasn't nearly as full. Now, a thick layer of green crystals gleamed under the light.

"Oh, excellent—Miss Stock, there you are."

Eve turned her head to see Professor McGonagall approaching briskly, a stack of books in her arms. The stern lines of her face softened slightly, though her glance flicked briefly toward the towering hourglass, her expression unreadable.

"Your performance in the dueling competition earned Slytherin fifty points. I imagine Professor Snape will be quite pleased with you."

McGonagall's announcement sent a ripple of excitement through the corridor. Slytherin students burst into cheers, clapping and shouting their praise.

"Well done, Eve! You're our pride!"

"Fantastic work, Stock!"

"You're the best Slytherin there is!"

A faint blush crept across Eve's pale cheeks at the unexpected attention. She leaned closer to McGonagall, lowering her voice.

"Professor… could we speak somewhere privately?"

The elder witch's eyes narrowed slightly. She had noticed the thick tome Eve cradled in her arms—What is a Vampire? Her expression darkened. With a slow, knowing nod, she gestured for Eve to follow.

"So," McGonagall began as they stepped into an empty classroom, her voice cool but gentle, "you've realized Mr. Von Draugr's true identity?"

Eve lowered her head, the edges of the book digging into her palms.

"Yes… I never knew. I thought only wizards could attend Hogwarts. I suppose everyone else assumed the same, which is why no one questioned Nolan's odd behavior. We all just thought he was… different."

McGonagall regarded her carefully, the lines on her face softening further.

"I understand your concern, Miss Stock. Would you like my advice on the matter?"

Eve shook her head almost immediately.

"No, Professor, it's not that. I can't let anyone interfere in my relationship with him. That would be disrespectful—to him and to myself. I have my own thoughts on the matter."

McGonagall's gaze lingered on Eve, as though weighing her words with the utmost care.

"Then what is it you wish to know, Miss Stock?"

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