Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince

No one knew exactly what Eve and Professor McGonagall discussed that day.

But after that conversation, the ever-anxious Miss Stock began to lighten up. She smiled at every student who greeted her, and even reconciled with the Slytherins who had once bullied her but now approached with hesitant apologies.

Eve Stock was not only an exceptional Slytherin but also a genuinely kind girl—and that reputation quickly earned her popularity.

"So, you've finally been accepted by your House?"

Hermione Granger walked beside Eve along the Black Lake, basking in the rare warmth of winter sunshine.

"Who knows? Some of the pure-blood crowd still refuse to acknowledge me as a true Slytherin. But now, more than half the House is willing to speak to me. People are… kinder." Eve's smile was faint but sincere. Her cold, distant demeanor hadn't vanished, but there was a newfound warmth to her presence. "If the me from a year ago could see this, she'd probably burst into tears of joy." She turned slightly toward Hermione. "And what about you, Hermione? I hear you're doing well in Gryffindor."

"I… maybe," Hermione replied uncertainly.

She wasn't entirely sure she fit the Gryffindor mold, but the Boy Who Lived and his mischievous companion accepted her, and Hermione found she didn't mind tagging along with the pair—despite their complete disregard for rules.

It was strange, really. Just half a term ago, both girls struggled to find their place within their respective Houses. Now, they were thriving as a proud Slytherin and a blossoming Gryffindor. The world was strange like that, wasn't it?

The two girls occasionally invited each other out for walks by the lake or spent long hours in the library discussing their studies. Hermione openly admitted Eve was a diligent and brilliant student. Any problem that left Hermione stumped was usually something Eve could unravel with ease.

That afternoon, the sun cast long golden rays over the lake as they debated the twelve uses of dragon's blood.

Then came the sound of heavy footsteps crunching through the snow.

"Oi! Enjoying the last bit of winter, are yeh?"

It was none other than Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. The towering figure seemed to be sneaking around—though his size made any attempt at subtlety futile. His oversized coat bulged oddly, as if he were hiding something beneath it.

"Good afternoon, Hagrid," the two girls chimed in unison.

"If yeh fancy, next time you can pop by my hut for some toasted marshmallows. Friend o' mine from Hogsmeade sent me a whole box for Christmas. But not today," Hagrid said gruffly.

Eve could easily guess why—not least because remnants of sticky marshmallow were clinging to his beard.

"If yeh eat 'em cold, they'll break yer teeth clean off. But roast 'em over the fire, and they turn all soft and sweet—sweeter than cheese! I reckon I'm in love with 'em." Hagrid grinned broadly. "Anyway, enjoy the sun while it lasts, girls. Stop by anytime for marshmallows."

He lumbered away, his coat still suspiciously lumpy. Whatever he was hiding, neither Eve nor Hermione could catch a glimpse of it.

"What's Hagrid up to this time?" Eve narrowed her eyes.

Hermione shrugged. "Who knows? Probably some oversized scorpion or something. You know how he is—Hagrid thinks dangerous creatures are 'adorable.' Back in October, I saw him trying to tame a wasp the size of a Quaffle. Called it his 'little darling.'"

"That would be an Angafalen Hornet. They're aggressive—and venomous."

"You don't have to tell me twice. I thought the same thing… until I saw the enormous lump on Hagrid's forehead the next day. His 'little darling' was never mentioned again."

"Poor Hagrid." The two girls shared a sympathetic laugh.

Hermione hesitated, tugging nervously at her robes and tucking a curl behind her ear.

"Hey, Eve… you know Harry, Ron, and I have been investigating—"

"Nicolas Flamel," Eve interrupted with a knowing glance.

"Yes, Nicolas Flamel." Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. "But honestly, it's been so frustrating. Harry and Ron spent the whole holiday searching and still couldn't figure out who Flamel is. I swear they weren't even trying. I feel like I'm the only one actually putting in any effort. I was hoping you could help me, Eve—please?"

Eve hesitated.

"I'm not sure if I should," she admitted. "You know, Nolan thinks Harry is wasting his time."

"He's biased against Gryffindors!" Hermione huffed, her voice rising in indignation. Clearly, she hadn't forgotten their last argument before the holidays. "He's convinced we're all meddling busybodies! But honestly—whether it's him or Dumbledore—none of them seem to be taking Snape seriously. They're going to regret it." Hermione's eyes burned with conviction. "We just want Dumbledore to keep his precious treasure safe."

Eve thought carefully, weighing the pros and cons, before finally speaking.

"I can give you a hint, Hermione. Nicolas Flamel has a good friend… someone right here at Hogwarts."

"A good friend?"

"That's right."

As the two girls exchanged words, a voice called out from not far away.

"Sorry to interrupt your conversation."

A strikingly handsome boy with dark hair approached them briskly. His sharp gaze flicked toward Hermione for only a moment before settling on Eve.

"We need to talk."

He looked restless—an emotion Nolan Von Draugr rarely displayed.

"What's wrong, Nolan? You seem uneasy." Eve clasped her hands behind her back, smiling lightly. The green scarf she wore fluttered gently in the cold breeze.

Nolan's irritation was obvious. "You know why I'm uneasy! You asked for time to think things over, but this waiting is unbearable. I can't focus on anything—it's never happened to me before!"

Hermione, caught off guard by Nolan's sudden outburst, stared at him in surprise.

The Slytherin prince had always been composed and aloof. Seeing him so ruffled and agitated was nothing short of shocking.

For a brief moment, Hermione even entertained the bizarre thought that perhaps someone had taken Polyjuice Potion. Surely this wasn't the same Nolan Von Draugr she'd known for the past year and a half.

Eve, however, merely smiled and looped her arm around his without hesitation.

"If you wouldn't mind, Hermione?" she said politely, though the words carried a gentle dismissal.

"Oh—oh, of course! I'll… just leave you two alone." Hermione stumbled over her words before hurriedly dashing away, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

The moment she disappeared from sight, Nolan's patience snapped.

"You're toying with me!" His frustration spilled over, his voice tight with barely restrained anger. "If you cared that I'm a vampire, you wouldn't be this close to me. You accepted me a long time ago, didn't you? You're doing this on purpose—stringing me along!"

"And if I wasn't, how would I know you care so much about me?" Eve teased, her eyes glinting mischievously.

Nolan exhaled heavily, the tension in his shoulders melting as he pulled her into his arms. Resting his forehead gently against hers, he whispered, "You've changed a lot over the past year and a half. I almost miss the nervous little crybaby who was afraid of everything."

"Well, I don't miss her one bit," Eve replied playfully.

She tugged lightly at the edge of his cloak, rising onto the tips of her toes. Her soft lips met his in a fleeting kiss, delicate and sweet against the cold winter air.