That afternoon, Noren penned a response to Dumbledore.
"I was quite surprised to receive a letter from Hogwarts. Perhaps I will become the first vampire in ten centuries to go shopping for a pointed hat in Diagon Alley, destined to be the laughing stock of all vampire clans...
Alright, I agree to enroll and will purchase the necessary supplies before September 1st. However, I hope Hogwarts will make adequate preparations for my admission as well. Specifically, I'd prefer my vampiric identity not to become public knowledge—it would be rather unpleasant to be constantly guarded against by the young wizards.
Yours sincerely,
Nolan Von Draugr."
"P.S. I personally promise not to feed on the young wizards' blood. However, I kindly request the school to arrange for fresh blood tomato juice and blood-filled pastries. If you can't find a supplier, you might have some luck in Knockturn Alley."
After sending off the letter via owl, Nolan was promptly dragged into a coffin by the excited Felicia..
As Nancy had aptly remarked, vampires truly had a distorted sense of time. Once inside a coffin, they would lose all awareness of the outside world, completely immersed in the bliss of their near-death slumber.
Meanwhile, Lady Constantine spent the next two weeks in a state of terror within the mansion. She constantly feared that she'd end up as minced meat under the whim of the erratic vampire duchess. However, maid Theresa repeatedly assured her that Felicia had merely lost track of time while sleeping in her coffin.
August 17th, London, The Leaky Cauldron…
On this particular day, the dingy old pub hosted a most prestigious guest—Libera Rousseau.
At just eighteen years old, this freshly graduated Hogwarts alumna was nothing short of a sensation. In some circles, her fame even surpassed that of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic known more for politicking than leadership.
Libera, with her fiery red hair and exuberant personality, had taken the magical world by storm. At the tender age of fifteen, she was invited to perform at the Quidditch World Cup, captivating audiences with her enchanting voice. Her subsequent success as a singer garnered invitations to numerous high-profile events, allowing her to mingle with the magical elite.
A year after graduation, she secured a coveted position at the Department of Magical Publicity, solidifying her status as a public icon. Libera's portrait even graced the collector's cards inside Chocolate Frogs, earning her a spot among the "Famous Wizards and Witches" lineup.
So, when such a celebrated figure appeared in the shabby confines of the Leaky Cauldron, steadily ordering one Butterbeer after another, it naturally raised eyebrows. She seemed to be waiting for someone—someone who, it appeared, was running six hours late. But who could possibly keep a person of her stature waiting?
At two in the afternoon, a small figure entered the pub. He wore silver-embroidered boots, an out-of-season black cloak, and carried a cane. His jet-black hair and delicate features immediately drew the attention of the room.
The patrons watched as the boy strode purposefully toward Libera Rousseau, their curiosity piqued.
"A child asking for an autograph?" they mused, smiling knowingly. After all, who hadn't idolized a famous witch or wizard in their youth?
But their assumptions shattered when Libera stood up abruptly, dropping to one knee like a humble servant before the young boy, her expression full of reverence and submission.
Who in Merlin's name is he?!
Not even the son of Cornelius Fudge could command such respect from Libera Rousseau!
Perhaps Albus Dumbledore could—he certainly had the status—but Dumbledore was known for his kindness and humility, never one to demand reverence.
The mysterious boy was, of course, Nolan.
He frowned slightly and whispered to Libera, "Stand up quickly, can't you see this is attracting too much attention? I don't want to become some celebrity in the wizarding world before I even step into it, known as the one who makes their idol kneel down."
Libera Rousseau scrambled to her feet, chuckling awkwardly as she cleaned her robes with her wand. Then, eagerly hovering around Nolan, she began peppering him with questions: "Your Highness, Nolan, Your Highness! Did Lady Felicia send for me again? Is there something she needs me to do? I'll do anything to prove my loyalty! Should we go get rid of Fudge right now?"
"Don't be silly," Nolan flicked her forehead with a sharp snap. "If Felicia really couldn't stand Fudge, someone else would have taken care of it long ago. It wouldn't fall to you. Relax—I'll convince my sister to grant you the Embrace before you turn twenty-two. That's the age when a woman is at her most beautiful. Compared to your youthful self now, the twenty-two-year-old you will be truly worthy of being preserved for eternity."
The fiery-haired woman was moved to tears. "Oh, Your Highness, Nolan, you're as generous as ever..."
Her warm hands clasped over Nolan's cold ones, pressing them to her face, and he couldn't pull away. Slightly furrowing his brows, he added, "I asked you here today to act as my guide. I'm not familiar with Diagon Alley and can't find the shops."
Libera happily accepted the absurdly simple task, darting about Nolan like an excited bird.
The pair passed through the secret door behind the Leaky Cauldron, stepping into the bustling lanes of Diagon Alley. The moment Libera appeared, every head turned toward her. Young wizards squealed and cheered, while the adults greeted her with warm waves and smiles.
Nolan noticed that everyone seemed to recognize Libera—and not only that, they genuinely seemed to like her.
"Good afternoon, Miss Rousseau." A plump witch nearby handed Noren a piece of candy, engaging Libera in cheerful small talk. Then, looking at Nolan, she asked warmly, "Is this child a new Hogwarts student?"
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Melass. Oh, I mean—yes." Libera smiled sweetly. "This is Nolan, such a darling boy. He might even become my kin, sharing the same bloodline as me. Isn't that wonderful?"
The plump witch tousled Nolan's dark hair affectionately and chuckled. "What a lovely child! He looks like a little angel when he smiles. I bet he'll end up in Hufflepuff. Our house always welcomes kind-hearted children like him."
Libera secretly pulled a face, clearly unimpressed by Hufflepuff. "No, I think he should be in Slytherin. His sister wants him to learn the family's sense of honor there."
"Oh... that's unfortunate," said the witch, a hint of sympathy in her tone. She then changed the subject. "By the way, is young Mr. Potter starting school this year?"
"I don't believe so. Harry Potter will likely enroll next year," Libera replied.