"Are you still angry at me for asking the Count to turn you?" Sofia asked as Harry and she walked down the winding staircase.

Harry had changed out of his funeral robes and into black loose-fitting shirt and pants. The Count had dismissed them both, and Sofia was now fulfilling her own end of the agreement by taking him under her wing to teach him everything she could.

"I am, but not as angry as I was when you saw me in the graveyard," Harry replied honestly.

"Good. It'll make everything much easier." The two of them came down to the wine cellar, where a vast number of bottles were stored – the racks of them seemed to stretch on endlessly, and many of the bottles had collected a sizeable amount of dust.

Harry frowned. "Why…"

"Patience." Sofia walked towards the wall at the end of the second hall of bottles. She pressed her hand on one of the bricks and pushed it.

To Harry's amusement, the brick glowed blue as a portion of the wall's bricks began to shift and rearrange themselves into a doorway. "How bloody original."

"Rule number one: No swearing," Sofia snapped as she led him into the doorway. "Common vampires may swear, but the Count sired you and as such, you are technically his…successor. You are too dignified to be so coarse. There are other ways to insult people."

Harry grunted in acknowledgement as they turned a right in the secret passage and stepped into a room that contrasted greatly with the rest of the manor.

It was an armory – a sleek, hi-tech muggle armory, lined with weapons and equipment of various types – swords, armoured suits, guns, and several odd devices that Harry had never seen before.

"We vampires are not as…close-minded as wizards," Sofia explained to the surprised teenager as she opened a drawer, pulling out a packet of what appeared to be a dark, gray powder. "Our kind closely monitors innovations in both worlds, and if we see something worth gaining, we will…borrow their blueprints and construct our own version, that will, naturally, always be far superior."

"What's that?" Harry indicated to that packet in Sofia's hand.

The lady vampire scooped a small amount out and flicked it onto the ground – there was a muffled bang as a strong flash of light surged forth. "Explosive powders," she explained, smirking at Harry's look of shock. "Very useful."

"For what?"

"Mostly for distractions. Along the way, you'll learn how to make powders like these in the field – explosives and demolitions are necessary tools of the best assassins, whether they use state-of-the-art plastic explosives or bombs derived from over-the-counter chemicals." She offered the packet to him.

"Are vampires assassins?" Harry asked as he reached in, plucking out some powder and throwing it down onto the ground, the grain exploding with a flash and a bang.

"Our race has thrived in society's ignorance," Sofia replied as she put the packet back into the drawer. "We keep to the shadows, subtly tipping the hands of fate in our favor. In view of this, assassination, reconnaissance and stealth, are useful, necessary tools. Our assassins are the greatest in the world, due to our…unique talents." Before Harry could ask her what she meant by that, she had turned around and gestured to the rack of weapons beside him. "Pick a pistol."

Harry as such had no idea what the types of guns were, but he had a vague idea of what a pistol was. He randomly pulled one off the rack.

"The Walther P99," Sofia stated as he turned it over in his hands. "This is the unmodified version, and we'll start with that to get you up to speed."

-------

Count Dracula contemplated this interesting series of events as he looked disinterestedly into a glass of wine. Very few vampires could consume food or drink – only the strongest could. Initially he had taken a strong dislike to the fruit of the vine, but eventually found that they were an acquired delicacy that one got used to.

He truly did have a soft spot for his vampires – especially Sofia. That woman was as cold as she was beautiful, yet believed passionately in the cause for which he would gladly give his immortal life for – a world of equality between all races, a world of peace and prosperity, where the vampires held a prominent position and led the way to great futures for all.

It had been several thousand years since the ancient vampire had sired someone successfully. His attributes and prowess had grown in leaps and bounds since then – the fact that this boy had been successfully turned signified his incredible power… or it could signify an incredible stroke of fortune.

He drained a little of this glass – enough of this musing. The Count had many plans to change, others to set in place now this child had come into the fray and he would soon see if there was more to this boy than just a very lucky, mediocre wizard.

A servant stepped into his throne room. Unlike the servants of other high-ranking vampires, he was not dressed in rags, but in a splendid, expensive robe. "Victor is here to see you, Count," he said with a bow.

Damn talkative maids! Although he would like nothing more than for them to give Unbreakable Vows, the majority of them weren't magical. Some weren't even vampires. Either way, he would have to plug this information leak immediately – in his manor rumour-spreading and gossip-mongering were not tolerated. "Let him in," he said with a sigh, drinking the rest of his glass and plunking it down on the throne's arm.

Victor was a burly vampire of a heavy stature, different to Dracula who was graceful and slender. He would've done well as a werewolf. "Dracula!" he snarled as he stormed in. "I've heard many rumours spinning around that you've taken in a child, who has not even neared manhood."

"I take in many children," Dracula replied elusively. "What is it to you?"

"No, but I hear that this child…is special…" Victor hissed. "I hear that this child was sired by you!"

Dracula raised an eyebrow as he put on a face of indifference. "Your sources are shaky. You should know by now that rumours get you nowhere."

"Stop dodging the question like you always do!" Victor roared. "DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT sire a new vampire?!"

"If you are only here to entertain me with anger and shouting, then I suggest you leave," Dracula replied in boredom. "I have far better things to do than to waste time playing host."

"This isn't over, Dracula!" Victor snapped as he turned around, storming out in the same violent manner.

Dracula leaned back in his throne. Even with his web of influence there would still be vampires who opposed him. Those vampires were usually the ones who were stronger than the rest – many of those who sat on the Council, in fact. He would have to keep this secret from them as long as possible – if word got out that he found a successor, the consequences could be most…unpleasant.

-------

"I'm impressed, child," Sofia admitted as Harry ejected the magazine, already about to put a new one in the Walther. The barrel was still smoking from his previous shots in the firing range. "The Count had thought you a mediocre wizard; perhaps you will prove to be a competent gunman."

"I…" Harry hesitated. "I didn't want to be viewed as too studious. I was afraid that I would lose my friends. Hermione was studious, and she's despised by half of the House."

Sofia scoffed. "Now you are a vampire. You will be despised by half of us if you continue to be mediocre any longer!"

"Tell me about the Count. Is he really that powerful?"

Sofia's cold blue eyes briefly flashed with something…vaguely human. Was there warmth in those orbs of iciness? "Count Dracula is one of the most powerful and oldest vampires currently in existence. He is a master of many of the war arts, if not all of them. He is an orator, a shapeshifter, a cunning strategist and a genius leader."

"The Count mentioned them before. War arts?"

"It is a term the Count uses frequently. The War Arts refer to the many arts of war and how one may fight wars – with guns, swords, subterfuge, or magic. There is more than one way to fight a war, just like there is more than one way to kill a man."

"Is he the most powerful being in the world right now?"

Sofia laughed softly. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Remember, child, for all of our strengths, we all have weaknesses, weaknesses which can be easily exploited. There is always someone waiting in the shadows, always another enemy, always someone to oppose you, however smart, great or strong you are."

Harry hesitated. "Does that mean that even if Voldemort dies…another Dark Lord will take his place?"

"Of course. That is the curse of this world and of us beings who dwell on the Earth and under the Earth. We are doomed to endless cycles of life and death, of destruction and betrayal, just as the world rotates endlessly around the sun."

"Then what's the point in fighting…" Harry looked down. "If we know our destiny is pre-determined? If we know there will be another enemy for us to face?"

"Don't be a fool, child. How are we meant to grow strong, if not through the fires of opposition? Opposition ends only until we reach perfection."

"Perfection? But that's…"

"…Impossible? From a mortal's point of view. But for the undying vampire, it is a great dream only just beyond our grasp – one to lead us all into a new age, one freed from all restrictions. Perfect power. Perfect unity. Perfect destiny. Imagine it." Sofia's eyes grew older and distant as she reminisced. "This is the Count's true dream, and his one true weakness."

Harry was silent as several moments ticked past. The spell was broken when he pushed in another magazine with a mechanical click and raised the weapon once more.

"Enough for today," Sofia said. "Now we move onto the next lesson: hand-to-hand combat."

Reluctantly, Harry put the gun away as he followed her into the hallway and into another room. "Is the manor always this empty?"

"The Count holds many balls to stretch his influence as far of a distance as possible. But most of the time, yes, although there are more people here than you think."

Harry frowned. "Are there more hidden facilities like this?"

"I am not at liberty to disclose such information to you," Sofia replied before they stepped into a large room, much larger than the previous shooting range. It was filled with padded gym mats, all kinds of gym equipment, fighting gear such as punching and speed bags, and many other different types of equipment.

"I thought vampires already had super strength?"

"Strength isn't everything." Sofia replied as she walked into a ring, kicking off her boots and taking off her shirt.

Harry immediately blushed and looked away.

Sofia scowled. "Don't be ridiculous child. No successor of the Count will ever be tongue-tied around women. Look at me." She crossed her arms in annoyance.

Slowly, Harry turned to look up at her, gulping.

"Stop gawking at my breasts, it's not like you haven't seen a pair before on other women," Sofia snapped. "If you attended one of the Count's balls, you would see that there are far more beautiful women in the world than one such as me. Now pay attention! And look at my face!"

Harry immediately snapped his eyes up.

"You asked previously why we needed to learn hand-to-hand when we already are blessed with great strength." Sofia asked. "I will show you. Attack me."

When Harry hesitated, Sofia narrowed her eyes. "If you can't attack me, how can you attack your godfather's killer?"

With a snarl, Harry charged at her, throwing a punch. Sofia easily leaned out of the way and used his body momentum to push him aside. "Don't let your anger blind you," she warned. "In this instance, although you are bigger than me I was able to use your own strength against you."

Harry spun around clumsily and tried again, throwing a flurry of punches at her. Sofia nimbly moved out of the way of each, grabbing him by the arm and throwing him over her body. "This isn't a show!" she snapped briskly. "If you're going to hit me then do it!"

The boy yelled in frustration as he stumbled back up. He lunged forward like he did before, but instead of throwing a punch, he flicked his hand towards her eyes and snapped out a sharp kick.

Sofia shifted her weight as she quickly leaned out of the way and blocked the kick instinctively with a hand. She showed no surprise. "Good," she said simply. "You're learning."

The spar lasted a minute or so longer before Sofia raised her hand. "Enough. I believe I have a fair picture of your fighting ability."

Harry warily lowered his arms and relaxed his fists, waiting patiently for an answer.

"You've never needed to fight physically, have you?" Sofia asked, and before Harry could answer she continued. "I thought not. However, you learn quickly and the ability is there. Maybe you might be able to compensate for being a useless wizard after all."

"I am NOT a useless wizard!" Harry shouted in annoyance.

"Is that so?" Sofia produced a sheet of parchment from her shirt pocket and tossed it to him.

Harry looked at it as his eyes widened. "My OWL results," he whispered. "But…"

"It was easy for me to procure a copy," Sofia huffed. "Rather pathetic aren't they?"

As Harry read it, his frustration was clearly evident. "I did well!" He protested.

"Not well enough," Sofia replied. "As a vampire, you are expected to be nothing but the best."
"At everything?"

"Everything," Sofia responded. "You don't understand the power you now possess, child. The more powerful a vampire's sire, the more powerful the vampire is. You, Harry Potter, are lucky. You were sired by the greatest and most powerful of all vampires, and that same power which makes Count Dracula great runs through you. What you do with that power is now up to you…but the way I see it, you're a fucker if you don't do the best you can."

"I thought you said no swearing," Harry said sarcastically.

"I am but a common vampire," Sofia replied with a smirk. "And this adds to my point. Until you cannot beat me in the arts of war I specialize in, then the Count has no further use for you, and you will be cast aside or fade away into the blackness of the night. However, you have an opportunity, an opportunity that many, including me, would give up our immortality for."

Harry hesitated. "What opportunity."

"You know of what I speak."

Harry sighed dejectedly as he fell down on the mat. "I never wanted any of this," he muttered. "All I ever wanted was to be normal. Why couldn't I just be normal?"

Sofia's face softened as her cold expression melted. The lithe woman walked and sat down beside him. "Just because our lives are not necessarily our own, child," she said softly, "does not mean we cannot live with it. You have not reached manhood yet. In time you will learn to accept your place in the world. Be aware, child…that while time has its importance, it is of ultimately no consequence to those who are already dead." She laughed harshly. "You will have all the time you need to accept this, although the Count prefers it sooner than later." She stood up. "I will teach you no more today. You have enough to think about. Until you are ready, don't disturb us."

Sofia walked away, leaving Harry to his thoughts, before she stopped abruptly and turned around to add one last thing. "Remember, child, what the Count said. It doesn't matter what we are like underneath. We could be the coldest, most callous creatures in the world or the warmest and kindest. The world will never know. But what it will remember forever are the choices you make. For it is the choices we make that truly define us in a way that no human emotion ever could."

-------

Retired to his study, Dracula was consulting a tome on necromancy when he felt the shadows behind him move and raised his head. "Sofia. I trust there are no difficulties?"

"Not at all, Count," Sofia replied as her form broke out of the darkness and into the study by the dim light of the fireplace. "I am here to inform you of his progress."
Dracula turned around. "But of course. And does the boy possess sufficient skills?"

"Indeed, although he is a mere child. I believe I can train him to be a fine assassin, like myself, although as a squib vampire I cannot teach him the magical arts. His social skills need work as well – a lot of work."

"That can be rectified. So he is teachable?"

"Fairly. He has many…how do you say it…personal issues."

"Don't we all. There may be a slight problem, however. Victor came in recently, demanding to know of him."

"Victor?" Sofia raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know he had the balls to confront you on any issue."

"Don't underestimate him, he is far stronger than you may think and he knows it. He must have informants placed throughout my manor – I will attempt to sweep them out, but until then, I want you to train the boy in as much secrecy as possible. If he is able to master his latent talents, then he may become instrumental in my plans."

"You cannot operate under the Council's sight forever," Sofia interrupted exasperatedly. "Soon someone will find something out. And if Victor…"

"If Victor somehow manages to even a shred of information which he has evidence for, then he may have an unfortunate accident," Dracula said smoothly. "Trust me, Sofia; the Council is as predictable as they are stupid. None of them would dare to stand against me, even if my plans were revealed."