Chapter 100: 100: The Damned Holy Son

Words : 1437 Updated : Sep 28th, 2025

Chapter 100 of "Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince" starts the action: "I must say, Mr. Von Draugr, you've greatly disappointed both Dumbledore and myself." Professor McGonagall's grip... Find out what happens!

"I must say, Mr. Von Draugr, you've greatly disappointed both Dumbledore and myself." Professor McGonagall's grip on Nolan's wrist was firm as she dragged him to an abandoned parking lot. Snow blanketed the ground, covering cracked asphalt and rusted fences. The brick walls were riddled with crude graffiti—harsh slashes of paint scarring the surface. This was not McGonagall's kind of place. Despite her stern demeanor, she was a lady of elegance and class. For her to bring Nolan to such a desolate, grimy spot could mean only one thing—she was furious, and possibly beyond reason. "I apologize, Professor," Nolan said quietly, his head lowered slightly. "But I must say—if I had to do it again, I would." There was no trace of guilt in his voice. Nolan Von Draugr never felt guilt for causing trouble. The Von Draugr family thrived on it. But this time... this time, Dumbledore had borne the brunt of the backlash. Nolan held Eve's hand as they walked, her fingers cold but soft against his own. His skin was even colder, yet somehow their joined hands radiated a strange warmth. "Oh, Professor McGonagall, please don't blame Nolan anymore," Eve pleaded softly, glancing up at McGonagall with wide, innocent eyes. "It was that Bulgarian's fault. If he hadn't done what he did, Nolan wouldn't have gotten so angry." McGonagall let out a sharp laugh—one without humor. "Angry, Miss Stock? Your dear Mr. Von Draugr wasn't angry. He was out of his mind." She crossed her arms tightly. "Believe me, if no one had intervened, Mr. Von Draugr would have killed that boy—and his mother. Then we would have had no choice but to send him straight to St. Mungo's, where the Healers would claim he was possessed by demons!" She turned her fiery gaze on Nolan. "Listen carefully, Mr. Von Draugr. I don't care how recklessly your family conducts their affairs, but as long as you are a student at Hogwarts, you will abide by the rules of this school. Do I make myself clear?" "I understand, Professor McGonagall—" "You understand nothing!" McGonagall snapped, her voice rising as she glared at him. Eve had never seen her so furious. McGonagall was strict—everyone knew that—but she was rarely this angry. "Alright, alright. I get it." Nolan raised his hands in mock surrender. "You can expel me if you want. Felicia won't hold it against you." McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "That's disheartening to hear, Mr. Von Draugr. Is that how you see us?" Her tone softened, though only slightly. "Professor Flitwick and Professor Babbling speak highly of you. They say you're one of the finest students they've ever taught." McGonagall's robes billowed as she turned on her heel, heading toward the street. As she reached the corner, she glanced back. "No matter who you are, Mr. Von Draugr, you are a Hogwarts student. It's my responsibility to protect you. Now, take Miss Stock home. I believe you both need some time alone." For the first time, McGonagall allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of her mouth. "And Miss Stock," she added, "you did wonderfully today. Second place is enough to earn Slytherin fifty points. I believe your housemates will see you in a new light." With that, McGonagall Disapparated, leaving behind nothing but the faint swirl of snow where she once stood. Eve glanced up at Nolan nervously, her small hand tightening around his. She wasn't afraid of him—not even after the madness she had witnessed. If anything, she liked it. Nolan's rage meant he cared. He cared deeply enough to lose control, and that thought alone made her heart flutter. To a young girl in love, every flaw becomes a charm. That was the magic of romance—even the most powerful witches couldn't resist it. "Where are we going now, Nolan?" Eve tugged at the scarf he had given her, rocking on her heels as she looked up at him. "I'll take you home. Is that alright?" The house Eve stayed in had been arranged by Nolan. It was a modest, detached home on the outskirts of London, with a small balcony and a garden. The nearest bus stop was three blocks away, but the neighborhood was peaceful—filled with polite, respectable residents. The Von Draugr family owned several such properties throughout London. But Eve's mother had stubbornly refused to accept any gifts from Nolan, as if doing so would make her feel like a beggar. They strolled along the sidewalk, dressed in Muggle clothes, hands intertwined as they chatted. Children played in the snow, building snowmen and throwing snowballs. Occasionally, a snowball would stray toward Nolan and Eve—only to be met by an invisible shield, shattering into powder before it could strike. "Won't Muggles notice you using magic?" Eve brushed her fingers against the faint glimmer of the Shield Charm. It felt hard and cold—almost like real armor. Nolan shook his head. "Muggles aren't very observant. They rarely notice things that seem trivial. How's your mother doing?" "Oh!" Eve's face lit up. "She got promoted this Christmas! I've never seen her so happy. To celebrate, she bought a giant pizza, and we ate the whole thing together!" Nolan raised an eyebrow. "You still like that strange flatbread? There's plenty of food at Hogwarts." "It's different!" Eve giggled, shaking her head. "Meals with Mum taste better. She's been so happy lately... you know, after the divorce, she was really down..." Her voice trailed off, and for a moment, she glanced at Nolan from the corner of her eye. Then she looked away, staring at the snow-covered sidewalk. "You... you knew, didn't you?" she asked quietly. "Knew what?" "Nothing..." Eve puffed her cheeks in frustration, clutching his hand a little tighter. Nolan sighed softly and gave Eve's hand a reassuring squeeze. "If you're talking about the truth behind your birth... well, there's one thing everyone knows—Slytherin doesn't take Muggle-borns. I suspected something the day you were sorted." Eve's head drooped lower, her voice barely above a whisper. "You figured it out so long ago..." she murmured, shoulders trembling. "Do you think being illegitimate makes me dirty? I don't understand why Mum did what she did. That's not what a wife should do. If I ever have a husband, I'll never betray him." Her grip on Nolan's hand tightened, as if holding onto the last fragment of her fragile belief in love. "I still love her, but... I can't respect her choices." "Don't think too much about it. And don't go digging for answers that don't need to be found," Nolan said quietly. He wasn't looking at her when he spoke, his eyes fixed somewhere far ahead, but his tone was calm and firm—like stone smoothed by time. As they walked down the snow-laden street, Nolan's quiet voice wove around Eve like a gentle spell, offering what little comfort words could bring. The crumbling of a parent's marriage could scar any child, even if that child was a witch. They crossed into a deserted neighborhood, where the snow lay thick and untouched, undisturbed by footprints or tire tracks. The only sounds were the soft crunch of their steps and the distant laughter of playing children. Then Nolan stopped abruptly. The silver buckles on his boots clicked against the frozen ground, sharp and sudden. Eve looked up, confused by the sudden pause. "What is it, Nolan? I wouldn't mind stopping by a café, but there's nothing around here..." She trailed off, noticing the shift in his expression. Nolan didn't answer. His crimson eyes gleamed in the dim winter light, glowing faintly—bright enough to pierce the veil of shadows cloaking the alley ahead. His gaze swept across the corner of the narrow passage, cold and cutting as a blade. Then, Nolan's lips curved into a dangerous smile. "Come out, you filthy Saint. I'm sure you've enjoyed hunting my kin these past few days." He took a step forward, voice dripping with cold amusement. "But I'm afraid your luck's run dry." A faint breeze stirred the snow between them, swirling around his feet like mist. "Meeting me, Nolan Von Draugr, is your misfortune." His eyes burned brighter, illuminating the alley in a blood-red glow. "This is where your story ends. Pray, or prepare to ascend." ~~~---------------------- Patreon Advance Chapters: patreon .com / HPdreame

Chapter 100: 100: The Damned Holy Son

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