Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince

"So, what exactly just happened?"

Five minutes later, Penelope had managed to shake off both Alicia and Percy, dragging Nolan into Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. She ordered a cup of vanilla tea with complimentary chocolate and let out a long sigh.

Nolan, looking quite pleased with himself, carefully poured the vial of virgin blood he had acquired from Astoria into his teacup before casually inquiring about the situation.

"I don't even know what to say!" Penelope fumed. "Right after you left, that Weasley guy just wouldn't stop talking about his grand plans after leaving Hogwarts. He went on and on about how he's already made connections with last year's graduates and how he'll become Cornelius Fudge's secretary within three years! He kept swearing up and down that it was all going to happen."

"Poor guy. And then?"

"I went to Honeydukes to buy a gift for a friend, and Weasley insisted on paying for it. I refused multiple times, but he was adamant about making those cheap honey candies into some kind of 'gift' for me! And the worst part? When it came time to pay, he didn't have enough Sickles! I had to cover the remaining four Sickles myself! After that, the Ravenclaws wouldn't stop whispering in my ear, asking why I'd agree to go on a date with someone like that! I just can't believe it..."

Nolan smirked.

His emotions were indeed somewhat detached, but he still understood the importance of saving face.

Percy Weasley must have been utterly humiliated just now. Poor guy.

"Cut him some slack. The Weasley family has never been wealthy. Their poor parents have so many kids to feed, you know that."

"Fine, I don't look down on someone for being poor. Poverty isn't shameful. Laziness is!" Penelope huffed, then sighed again. "But what really infuriated me came after that. A whole bunch of Gryffindors showed up and started bombarding me with questions about when Percy and I started dating, if we planned on getting married. And then—ugh—two redheaded troublemakers, probably Weasleys too, gave Percy something to eat. After that, he got completely drunk! They started chanting, 'If you love her, say it out loud!'"

Nolan coughed twice.

No need to ask—those had to be the Weasley twins.

Clearly, they didn't mind creating a new Hogwarts legend, even if the main character—both the hero and the fool—was their own older brother.

"And then, for some reason, Percy Weasley really did shout it out loud! He said he loved me! Can you believe it?!" Penelope covered her face, though it was obvious she wasn't blushing from embarrassment—she was absolutely livid. "He grabbed my shoulders and tried to kiss me! And those stupid Gryffindor idiots were cheering him on!"

"That's just outrageous. So what happened next?"

"I slapped him! Hard! Just like this!" Penelope swung her hand through the air, as if smacking an invisible Percy. The force was enough to make the tea table tremble. "And I told him that even if Hagrid were the last man on earth, I'd rather date him than ever go out with Percy again!"

That must have been the scene Nolan and the others had witnessed earlier.

Poor Percy, right? Nolan almost felt sorry for him—though, truth be told, it was his "wonderful" younger brothers who had made him suffer.

"Cheer up, Penelope," Nolan shrugged, speaking casually. "Not everything that happened today was bad. I found a nice little house, and it should be ready within a week. Once I teach you how to transform into a flying creature, we can leave Hogwarts whenever we want and live in our own little cottage."

"Really?"

"Really."

"A hidden, soundproof basement?"

"Call it whatever you want."

"That's amazing..." Penelope murmured, as if in a dream.

Nolan wasn't quite sure what to make of her reaction. He considered asking but ultimately decided against it.

Just as he was debating, he caught sight of a familiar figure moving swiftly past the window.

"Malcolm?" Nolan murmured, puzzled.

Malcolm Baddock had been rather elusive lately. He was rarely in the dormitory or the common room. Though he was still at Hogwarts, no one really knew where he was or what he was up to.

The Baddock family had once been among the elite in the pure-blood wizarding world. But after going bankrupt last year, they had been cast out of those exclusive circles.

He used to get along quite well with Draco Malfoy. The two were both boastful and often exaggerated their accomplishments, covering for each other to maintain the illusion. But ever since the bankruptcy, Malcolm and Draco seemed to have drifted apart.

Maybe it was because Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, was one of the leaders of the pure-blood supremacist movement. Or maybe it was simply because poor Malcolm couldn't even afford all his textbooks for Defense Against the Dark Arts this year.

Either way, Malcolm had grown increasingly withdrawn—though he was still the same arrogant fool who occasionally found himself hanging from the ceiling, courtesy of the Weasley twins' enchanted gloves.

Nolan couldn't guess what was on his mind, but it was clear Malcolm Baddock had secrets of his own, and he wasn't sharing them with anyone.

Pointing in the direction Malcolm had gone, Nolan asked Penelope, "Do you know what shops are down that way?"

"The Hog's Head, Scribbulus Quill Shop, and... the post office, I think?" Penelope said uncertainly.

Nolan recalled the parcel tucked under Malcolm's arm and murmured, "The post office."

An hour later, while most students were still lingering in Hogsmeade, Malcolm had already returned to the dormitory.

After making absolutely certain that neither Nolan nor Miles was around, he carefully unwrapped the package he had just received from the post office.

Inside was a heavy, ancient-looking book. The cover, made of some reptilian leather, was riddled with scars, as though slashed by a blade. The title, though weathered, was still barely legible:

The Birth and Death of Salazar Slytherin.

Malcolm's eyes lit up, his face flushing with excitement.

"Father really got it for me! This is exactly what I needed!" he shrieked.

He feverishly flipped through the old pages, scanning for the information he sought. Finally, about three-quarters of the way through, he stopped. On the brittle parchment was a strange, distinctive crest.

His fingers trembled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a matching emblem. The twisted serpent, the eerie sharp angles, the slick and intricate texture—it was identical to the one in the book!

His heart pounding, he read the entry aloud:

"Salazar Slytherin, unlike the other three founders, was a master of hoarding wealth. After his disappearance, his vast fortune vanished without a trace. According to his descendants, Salazar hid his treasure somewhere within Hogwarts. The emblem shown in this illustration will guide the way to his endless riches..."