I do not own Young Dracula, Harry Potter, or anything that could get me sued.

Thank you so much for the reviews! I love reading them all.

I also wished to remind that I am always thinking of what to write for this story and do intend to finish it. I just have an erratic updating schedule because of life in general. Thank you for your patience!

Chapter 38: The Debut Part 3

Vlad lurched to the side, his shoulder scraping heavily against the wall as he moved out of arm's reach.

"K-keep away from me!" exclaimed a debutante as he lashed out. He was from one of the smaller noble families, but fairly aggressive.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Vlad ground out for what seemed to be the fifth time. He didn't know how long he had been in the castle's West Wing or how many debutantes he had come across, but he had stopped trying to keep track after he had captured two dozen.

The first debutante he had found had been hiding in a closet away from a nearby wandering mace-holding Breather. Vlad had been startled to see the servant, unaware that this was specifically how the Grand High Vampire was carrying out the second task. But when the servant made no move to harm Vlad himself, he came to learn (with much relief) that each Breather had a specific debutante target they were told to focus on and nobody else.

Vlad's first attempt at casting the spell hadn't gone smoothly – largely due to the fact that, as predicted, the debutante had immediately moved to maim. It took quite a bit of dodging and missed spells before Vlad had finally hit the debutante with a Petrificus Totalus. Then, as the older candidate watched Vlad with panicked eyes, the young vampire proceeded to try the spell he had been studying for the past days. Vlad didn't even need to think as the words flowed from his mouth and he felt the familiar rush of magic lying beneath his skin come roaring to life in response.

Vampires did not use spells. The fact that the event required an enchantment at all had surprised Vlad and further reading had corroborated his suspicions: this was not usual vampire magic. The book had never clarified where the spell had come from, but Vlad had wondered if this was a remnant from times when wizards and vampires did mingle. From what he had read, past administrators had only needed to repeat the words of the enchantment and guide the magic. But Vlad, still mortal, wasn't so sure if he would produce the same results as those who had come before him.

The spell was strong and required a lot of power to maintain. This was a problem for the administrator since the magic had to be cast on more than one individual. But the spell had been created to pull magic and power from the receivers so that it could be an almost self-sustaining enchantment.

Vlad's own magic controlled how much came from each person and channeled it into the spell. He had to make sure the spell maintained itself for every debutante he ran into and for the entire duration of the test. Not much was needed from each and the weaker the contributor, the less likely their magic would resist the pull. Some with more strength would contribute less, their magic fighting the pull, while the others who were weaker would contribute more. Vlad had to balance it all and it was finite control of magic he had never done before. It was probably a sheer miracle he hadn't lost track of it all already. For all of his studying, this portion he had to do on sheer instinct.

The first time he became linked to another being's magic through the enchantment had been an odd feeling. Like an unfamiliar strength that wasn't quite his. But Vlad hadn't had much time to dwell on it; once the debutante's eyes had fallen closed and Vlad was fairly sure the spell had done its job, he wasted no time in moving on.

Capturing debutantes was becoming progressively easier. Each and every one of them were shaken and Vlad had the unfair advantage of being able to access his magic. The debutantes were indeed Turning this year, but none of them had actually undergone their transformation yet. So while they were vicious in their physical attacks, and an impressive few had even managed to wrestle weapons from their Breather attackers, it often took no more than a couple of simple spells straight from a first or second year Hogwarts textbook to have them down.

There was even a sort of pattern to it now: try to reason verbally with the debutante first out of sheer decency, dodge an inevitable attack to ward him off, cast a Petrificus Totalus or Locomotor Mortis here and there, and then send the debutante off to their respective dreamworlds.

"I don't believe you," Vlad's current debutante target spat. "What's a kid like you doing here anyway –"

Mouthier than the rest, a method of controlling his uncertainty? Vlad wasn't quite sure, but he took the opportunity to snap his fingers and murmur a petrifying curse. It didn't even take another minute before the older boy was lying unconscious on the floor.

The servant who had been assigned to this debutante came from the shadows, moving forward as the others had to pick up the debutante and carry him off. Vlad didn't ask where they were taken, but he figured it was probably to a designated area outside of the current task's boundaries. He was turning around, about to move further down the dimly lit hall, when the Breather spoke.

"My lord," the servant spoke softly, deferentially. "His Grandness would like to inform you that there are three left."

Three. Vlad was so close. Soon, this would all be over. He was feeling numb now, just trying to finish his task. But he knew that after all this was finished, he would look back and wince at how he was so blatantly throwing about the magic he had been learning at Hogwarts to further a vampire's agenda. What sort of sick test was this, to throw a bunch of teenagers into some arbitrarily terrifying nightmare? If they were all just normal to begin with, this wouldn't be happening at all. Vlad was fairly sure humans didn't do these things on purpose and he knew for a fact that wizards didn't – even if wizarding students did coincidentally end up in horrifying situations regardless.

But getting lost in his thoughts wouldn't help. There was nothing Vlad could do to change thinngs now and the faster he finished, the faster he could leave it all behind.

He was further in the West Wing now, nothing but silence to accompany him as he searched the darkness. Catching the debutantes was one thing; finding them was almost harder. Homenum Revelio, Point Me, and spotting probing servants were a fairly good tools to indicate that he was headed in the right direction. But none of it was any good if Vlad was absolutely nowhere near a debutante. All he could do was search where he hadn't already.

As he searched the shadows, his eyes unhindered by the dim lighting, Vlad realized with startling clarity that he knew exactly who the last three left were. He had yet to find his sister or his cousin. Or the Danesi heir, for that matter.

Suddenly, it was all the more urgent to find them because who knew what they were all getting tangled in? This sort of set up was not ideal to launch a revenge attack, but Vlad knew how deeply grudges ran between families and the Danesi/Dracula feud was perhaps the most infamous. For all the young vampire knew, his sister and cousin were running from Breather servants and Will Danesi.

Fate, it seemed, was on his side for once when he heard a crash not too far away.

~0~

Ingrid was furious, exhausted, and maybe a little scared. The first she was familiar with. The second, less so. For all of her upbringing, excessive physical activity had never been one of great emphasis. After all, she wouldn't have to worry about that sort of thing once she Turned. But she could deal with it, could force herself to keep moving out of sheer will.

The last was something she didn't know how to deal with.

Ingrid Dracula was confidence personified. Beautiful and perfect. A princess. Her family was one of ancient bloodline and great power. She wasn't supposed to be afraid.

But fear was not something you could control so easily and she was perhaps learning that for the first time. Logically, she knew this wasn't really a threatening test. They had all entered here under a safety contract. The Grand High Vampire would not be so rash as to make an enemy of the noble families. Yet, her heart (stupid, silly thing) was beating a hundred miles a second and she couldn't quite stop the trembling in her hands.

Hence, her anger. How could she, a Dracula, allow herself to be so weak?

Her only comfort came in the form of an equally fearful Will Danesi.

The Danesi heir was breathing quick, shallow gasps. His eyes were constantly darting back and forth with the look of a startled deer. But he hadn't stopped moving since the Breather servant had first attacked the both of them and he didn't hesitate to act when needed.

It hadn't taken long for either debutante to realize what the second event was. It was hard not to when there was a servant chasing them with a sword in his hands. This was a test of survival and all they had to do was follow the instructions: don't get caught. And so far, they hadn't. They had evaded each swing of deadly steel, each close call, by working together. It drove Ingrid mad to know that she had to share motivations with a Danesi. But both of them knew it was better to temporarily be on the same side…until one of them found the perfect opportunity to dispose of the other.

So, yes, they escaping from a sword-wielding Breather. But they were also constantly watching each other for any sign of betrayal.

It was tiring and Ingrid had no idea how long they had been doing this. It seemed like hours had passed, maybe even a day. But she would not give up. She would be the last one standing.

"No, he's going down that corridor," Will hissed, pulling her back as she moved to turn the corner of one hallway.

Ingrid saw the moving shadow and quickly retreated a step. She didn't thank the Danesi heir. Instead, she raised her index finger to her lips to signal silence before they dodged down another branch of halls and into a study room. Once Ingrid confirmed there was another exit door, Will took painstaking care to quietly shut the entrance they had come from. They had, for a time, hidden in rooms hoping that the servant would lose them. But they both quickly learned it was better to simply keep moving rather than corner themselves into a place the Breather could eventually find them. Now, they only took quick reprieves to gather themselves.

"How much longer do you think we have?" the Danesi boy whispered.

Ingrid shot him an irritated look. "What makes you think I would know?"

Will shrugged, irritatingly blasé. "They can't keep going like this. There must be something we have to do to complete this event."

Ingrid had been thinking along the same lines, but she was certainly not going to agree with a family enemy. She merely raised an eyebrow and sat in one of the chairs nearby. "We just need to avoid getting caught."

"It can't be that simple."

"Maybe it is."

The Danesi heir ran a hand through his brown hair and let out a brief sigh. "Well, whatever it is, we have to keep moving, Ingrid."

"I told you to stop calling me that."

"I don't get what the big deal is," Will scoffed. "It's just your name."

Ingrid drew herself up and narrowed her eyes. "I am of the Dracula household. I will not allow you to address me so casually. You must treat me with the respect I deserve –"

"The respect you deserve?" The Danesi heir rolled his eyes. "I hardly think you've done anything to deserve –"

"What does it matter what you think? It is fact that I deserve respect as a Dracula."

"A Dracula." There was a mocking tone in Will's voice now that Ingrid had yet to hear. "Always so proud to be a Dracula. But how is that relevant to you at all? You're not exactly first in line for the Dracula throne, are you? Because you're a girl, right?"

"You dare…?" Ingrid felt her fury building, whatever fear she had been feeling burned away in her anger. "If you think that I am any less capable than a boy, then you have something coming for you, Danesi. You can hardly say anything when your own pathetic family name always comes second –"

"And whose fault do you think that is?"

"Your own," Ingrid spat, tired but suddenly satisfied because finally they were interacting as she had been expecting since the very beginning and he was no longer confusing her by calling her name and having her back. "It takes strength to rise from mediocrity and it is hardly my family's fault that the Danesit are barely half-rate."

"How would you know? You've been raised all your life to think you're perfect and untouchable –" Will stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening. "Move!"

Ingrid had barely a second to comprehend what the Danesi heir had said before he was grabbing her shoulder and throwing them both down to the ground. She felt her palms stretch out instinctively to break the fall, just as something flew past her head and collided with the opposing wall.

She reoriented herself immediately, her focus narrowing in on the source of the attack. They had been foolish. In their sudden argument, they had forgotten to keep their voices down and now they had been discovered. Ingrid angrily wanted to hit something, but knew she had to find a way out. Her eyes were searching the room, finding the exit she had located earlier. But then she saw what exactly had been thrown at her and she froze.

Splattered against the stone wall was the head of the Breather who had been chasing them.

Ingrid was not squeamish. What sort of vampire was? But she couldn't stop the visceral disgust and shock she felt at the sight and she whirled around to see who had taken out their pursuer.

What she saw had her nearly speechless, even more so than the thrown severed head.

"Boris?" Ingrid finally managed to gasp out. She had to check, had to make sure her eyes weren't tricking her.

He was almost unrecognizable. It was beyond the blood painting almost all of his clothes a deep red. There was genuine power emanating from him like a choking smog and he stood with a sort of confidence Ingrid had never thought him capable of. There was no sign of the glasses he normally wore and his eyes burned crimson as he stood at the door, watching them.

"Ingrid…?" Even his voice was different, tinged with something just not quite right.

"That's your cousin?" Will demanded. Boris was well known by now to be anything but the horrifying visage in front of them.

Ingrid couldn't reply because Boris suddenly burst into almost manic laughter at the Danei heir's question. He raised a hand – also drenched to the sleeves in blood – to his mouth in what seemed to be an effort to stifle his guffaws. "Oh, he doesn't recognize me. Of course he doesn't. Because I'm not weak anymore."

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Ingrid would have been delighted at her cousin's sudden turn-around if it hadn't been for the distinct sense that he wasn't quite all there.

"Aren't you glad?" Boris was grinning now, looking directly at Ingrid. "Aren't I finally a Dracula?"

Ingrid's mouth was moving before she could properly censor herself. "Took you long enough."

"Too long," her cousin agreed. "If only I had this power before. Then, I wouldn't have to be afraid of anybody…not even you."

"Well you don't have to be afraid of me yet. Just wait until I Turn –"

Will slapped a hand over her mouth. "Are you stupid?"

But he hadn't acted fast enough. The unnervingly genial look on Boris's face had vanished to be replaced with one darkened with irritation. "You're right. You would just get in my way. But you're not Turned yet are you?" He ran a tongue over his teeth and his eyes flashed. "I wouldn't have to worry if I got rid of you right now."

"Shit."

For once, Ingrid agreed completely with the Danesi heir. They both moved in unison, dashing abruptly for the only other exit in the room. They were almost there, almost free to hide and run from a new pursuer, but the heavy table at the center was sent flying over their heads to block the door. It landed with an almighty crash, one of the table legs breaking off in a shower of wooden shards. Will and Ingrid had no choice to stop in their tracks and cover their faces to protect themselves.

Ingrid felt her stomach sinking. They were trapped with a bloodthirsty Boris. A bloodthirsty Boris with vampire powers. There was absolutely no way she was going to make it out of this. But maybe if she could somehow stall…

The Dracula princess turned around with a resolved pull to her lips. "You've won here, Boris. Congratulations. But what makes you think you can do this without any consequences?"

Boris clucked is tongue, as if the answer were obvious. He stepped further into the room as he spoke, "There won't be any consequences. After all, I'm not going to touch your friend there. But who would care if you disappeared? That would be a family matter and, well, this would just prove that I am stronger. My father will be thrilled."

"That's it?" Ingrid was pulling at straws, watching her cousin's every move as he came closer and closer. "That's your plan? You're just going to roll over and play dog to Uncle Ivan? What sort of vampire are you?"

"Who said that will be it? I'll make my father proud by eliminating you first. Then, I'll take the family throne." Boris took in a deep breath, as if drunk on his own strength. "Nobody can stand up to me now."

It was good to know that Boris, for all of his changes, was still delusional. "You do realize that your plans include getting rid of Vlad too, then? He is heir."

Something flickered across her cousin's face. "He will be easy to deal with."

Then, further across the room, an almost small voice interrupted them.

"What?"

It was like some perverted version of a family reunion. Hovering at the door where Boris had been not so long ago stood Vlad, dressed in a dark cloak with the collar high enough to shadow a portion of his lower face. His grey-blue eyes were wide as they took in the scene before him and shone with a touch of shock.

"Vlad?" Boris said, just as confused as the rest of them. "What – how are you here?"

Vlad didn't answer. He only ran his gaze over his cousin's bloody form, over Ingrid's and Will's cautious stances, and briefly over to the destroyed table and severed head somewhere behind them. His lips were thin and his eyebrows were taut. That was his distressed expression, Ingrid knew.

"Vlad!" she shouted over to him. She had to get him to act fast because his fortuitous entrance would only distract Boris for so long. "Boris has lost his mind! He's –"

That was as far as she got before Boris was choking her, his bloody hands suddenly crushing her. Ingrid fought, scratching at any surface she could get her hands on. She wasn't going to die like this. Not to Boris. She kicked, bit, and lashed out with everything she had. But she didn't need to do so for long. Not even a few seconds later, she was breathing again, coughing and trying to reorient herself. Somebody – Will – was keeping her from collapsing by gripping her shoulders. It took a few moments more before her head wasn't spinning anymore. When she did manage to finally look up, she saw her brother and cousin at each other's throats.

Vlad's eyes were brighter than she had ever seen them and hardened in a way that took her aback almost as much as Boris's red eyes had. They were still blue, still Vlad, but he moved with a fury and determination. Neither of them were particularly refined in their movements, but they were toe-to-toe and that was saying something when her brother was four years younger than her cousin.

Boris was throwing everything possible at Vlad, moving whole bookshelves and statues with only a wave of his hands. But the younger boy could defend against them, his lips always moving and muttering what Ingrid could only assume were spells one after another. A translucent barrier of sorts was surrounding Vlad, held in place by an extended left hand to block Boris's onslaught. Vlad was fiercely concentrated, his entire attention diverted to his task. But Boris was almost frantic and shouting angrily.

"You can't stand up to me! You do not have my power!"

Vlad ignored the words completely. For a few seconds, it seemed that all her brother was doing was blocking and dodging. But then, one of his spells must have landed because one moment Boris was backing up on his feet while throwing objects telepathically, and the next he was being hauled up into the air feet first by some invisible force.

Vlad wasted no time. The moment the spell took hold, he was snapping his fingers and casting another that froze Boris rigid. He could no longer move, his arms suddenly locked to his sides and his every muscle stiffened. Only his eyes flickered about in frantic fury and unrepentant loathing. If looks could kill, Vlad would have been long dead.

Ingrid was not one to linger when Boris's volatile vampire powers could free him at any second. She forced herself to her feet, and stormed over to where her family was, trekking over the disaster they had left behind. Will, she could sense, was not far behind her.

"You need to knock him out," she said the moment she was level with Vlad. "Before he tries to kill us all again."

Her brother barely twitched at her arrival. He only briefly closed his eyes before nodding mutely. Vlad snapped his fingers and intoned, "Liberacorpus." Boris fell heavily to the floor, his body landing with an unceremonious thump. He was still frozen in the same position and it would have been comical had their lives not been in mortal danger. "Somnium."

Ingrid watched her cousin's eyes fall closed, glancing at Vlad. "Is he…?"

"Asleep," the younger vampire supplied quickly with a note of undisguised distaste in his voice. "Not what you were thinking, Ingrid."

A part of her, a deep part of her, was relieved to hear that. She wasn't so sure how she would have reacted if her twelve-year-old younger brother had killed a member of their family in cold blood. Ingrid figured it was only in her best interest to keep Vlad soft. If Vlad wasn't still an emotional fool, it would have made her goal to sit on the Dracula throne that much harder.

"Good to know that you're not useless after all," she said in reply. "You were barely in time."

Vlad's lips quirked upwards at that. "You're welcome, Ingrid."

"So Vlad Dracula, huh?"

The younger vampire glanced over when the Danesi heir spoke. Almost immediately, a sheepish flush colored his cheeks. "I didn't mean to hide it from you or Darius."

Will's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Was that an apology?"

Ingrid wasn't quite sure when her brother and Will Danesi had met (or who this Darius was), but she quickly snapped, "Of course not." She looked at Vlad meaningfully. "It was just a statement of fact."

"Whatever you say," Will responded in practiced indifference. "But your brother isn't exactly as I imagined him."

Oh, of course. Almost everybody expected Vlad to be something almost otherworldly. He was wizard-trained, as Ingrid was reminded more than she cared to be. He was special. And as far as her father was concerned, he had been special since the day he had been born. Familiar annoyance flicked in Ingrid's chest, because Vlad had just faced Boris alone and won. While she had barely able to handle a little bit of choking. More than ever, she couldn't wait for her Turning.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Vlad smiled, a little bitter. "For the record, I'm sorry for this."

"For what?"

A click of fingers. "Petrificus Totalus."

Ingrid watched in fascination as the Danesi heir stood frozen, just like Boris. "I must say," she smirked. "I'm impressed." Who knew Vlad had it in him to do this? Maybe all of their father's lessons on their family enemies had sunk in after all. "Now maybe we can find our way out of here and finish this absolutely batty event." She paused, something dawning upon her. "Wait...why are you get here with us?"

The look on Vlad's face was all Ingrid had to see to realize that there was more to her brother's appearance than a simple rescue. Don't get caught. "No," she frowned, refusing to believe it. "You – you wouldn't."

"I'm sorry, Ingrid." And he really did seem sorry. His eyes shone with regret and a million apologies. But it took all of her willpower just to keep looking at Vlad. "I have no choice."

The snap of his fingers was impossibly loud.

~0~

"Some congratulations are in order, child."

Vlad realized that his absolute refusal to look at the Grand High Vampire in the eyes was childish and borderline rude, but he did so anyway. The young vampire hadn't had a chance to actually speak or meet with his family since the event and spell had ended, having been immediately ushered to the Grand High Vampire's study with all haste. There was a burning pit of deep resentment simmering inside of him at the sight of the elder vampire, and he didn't want to give the Grand High Vampire the satisfaction of knowing how much the entire ordeal had affected him. It had actually hurt to put his family down – even if it was just into their dreamworlds. They had both looked at Vlad like he had become some monster and a great part of him agreed. What sort of person forced a spell on family like that?

"Thank you, your Grandness," the young vampire said, reining in his anger.

"You performed admirably and the spell was a success," the elder vampire stood up from his seat, his robes falling about him in stately prominence. "You are the youngest administrator in all of vampire history."

It was supposed to be an accomplishment, Vlad knew. So he nodded and repeated, "Thank you, your Grandness."

The Great High Vampire craned his neck to look at the boy in front of him. A sparkle of what Vlad hoped wasn't further interest. "I would ask how you managed it."

"Just the same as any other," Vlad replied politely but concisely. "I simply followed the book."

There was certainly more to it, but there was nothing he could say verbally that would make sense of how he had controlled the incantation. So much of it had been instinct and simple experience with magic prior to his assignment to be the administrator. He couldn't have explained it even if wanted to.

The Grand High Vampire didn't press the topic, only continued to wax poetic phrases about Vlad's prowess. He was all charm and approval now. But Vlad hadn't forgotten how dangerous the man in front of him could be and it took all his control to remain completely stoic.

The last event had run its course and completed a few hours ago. Unsurprisingly to Vlad, Ingrid had been the one to awaken first despite being the last to fall under the spell. She was not one to run from her fears and he knew from experience that she attacked things head-on. So Ingrid Dracula had been named top among the debutantes for her ability to break free of her dreamworld. Will Danesi had followed after her to the surprise of no one and Boris had awoken fifth – probably through sheer arrogance at his newfound powers.

"Your exemplary performance shall be noted, I'm sure," the Grand High Vampire was saying. "You exceeded expectations. There is certainly more to you than meets the eye, Vladimir Dracula."

Vlad eyed the elder vampire, his hands tightening the slightest bit. "But you already knew, didn't you, your Grandness?"

A flicker of a smile touched the man's lips. "I am the Grand High Vampire. How could I not? Any vampire of note under my rule must be tested and kept in check. You see, I keep order. And perhaps now that the all debutantes have seen your abilities, you will no longer move with such anonymity." Something sharper touched the elder vampire's eyes. "I do not appreciate dangerous mysteries amongst my subjects."

So this had been a test and means of exposing him to the vampire community. It was a pat on the head and leash attached in one stroke. There was no way that the noble children who had been practically attacked by Vlad wouldn't tell their families about the Dracula heir. He might be complimented for his power and growing ability. But the Grand High Vampire was making it clear that he would not allow Vlad to grow unchecked. This was the elder vampire's way of drawing the line in the sand. His ultimatum: Vlad had to remember his place because he was not unnoticed.

Oh, but the Grand High Vampire had no idea who he is dealing with.

Vlad's reply was carefully controlled and devoid of significant emotion. "I understand, your Grandness."

A satisfied nod. "Good. You are free to go, child. Your family should be in the East Wing now. Perhaps we shall speak again soon."

Bats, Vlad certainly hoped not. He bowed in respect and left as quickly as his legs could take him. Out of the study and back to his family – Ingrid and Boris included. Vlad just wanted to be gone from here.

~0~

"You mean you don't remember anything?" Darius was a little disappointed. He had been looking forward to hearing about the final test. "Nothing at all?"

Will only shook his head, giving the rest of their family an apologetic look. "The last thing I remember is one of the servants telling us the event would be beginning soon. I've tried remembering but it's just…cloudy. I just remember running. And…" He grinned. "Ingrid Dracula hates it when I call her by her first name."

~0~

Vlad made it to his family's rooms in record time, ignoring all the servants along the way offering their assistance.

The Count greeted him at once. "Vladdy! Where have you been? We couldn't find you anywhere!"

"Library," he mumbled in reply. They probably wouldn't question him. It was a realistic enough response.

"Boris and Ingrid just returned from their last two events not too long ago," Olga informed him. She was watching Boris warily and Vlad very nearly flinched when he saw that this was indeed the same Boris that Vlad had seen during the third test. He was quiet now and he wasn't shouting parricide. But there was no mistaking the murderous look in his eyes and the way several objects in the room were levitating of their own volition. The Count and Uncle Ivan were completely unphased though, and Vlad's uncle seemed particularly pleased by the change. Uncle Ivan was holding his son's shoulder in fond pride.

"Oh?" Vlad feigned. He looked at his sister and then at his cousin, his breath in his throat. It all came down to this…

"You're so predicable," Ingrid rolled her eyes. But there was a smug smile on her lips. "Boris and I finished in the top five. I finished first."

"What happened?"

At that, Ingrid's smile flickered. "We…don't really remember. The Council must have chosen to wipe our memories. It is a private test after all."

"Very odd," the Count cheerfully supplied. "It has never been done before, but the rules are always changing. Too bad, the third test usually supplies such good stories."

"Right," Vlad agreed, barely suppressing the smile that was threatening to break across his face. "Too bad."

~0~

When they returned home, the first thing the Draculas did was usher Boris to the family Blood Mirror. It was hidden in a secret passageway within the underground beneath the Stokely castle. How Count Dracula had somehow commissioned an entire underground labyrinth and chamber was beyond the young vampire. But it was indeed there, and Boris was overdue for his full transformation. He had turned sixteen while in his mortal body during the last test, and it explained why he had gone completely berserk. Now he could fully be Turned – fangs and all.

Vlad waited uneasily, all of them still dressed in formal attire straight from the Debut. He didn't want to be here. This would be the first time he had seen anybody undergo their Turning and while he had technically seen some of it during the third event, he did not want to see it completed. To see his cousin so altered was disheartening. Just thinking about Boris still hurt. Vlad wasn't sorry that he had beaten his cousin to save his sister. But at the same time, he mourned the loss of the bespectacled teen who had once searched for normalcy. It seemed that the entire world was trying to show Vlad that there was no way to escape his fate and he was scared at the thought. If Boris – weedy, sickly, clumsy Boris – was transformed into a creature hungry for blood at the flip of a switch, what was stopping the same thing from happening to Vlad?

It was said that the stronger the vampire, the longer they spent facing the Blood Mirror. So Vlad wasn't particularly surprised when Boris took a grand total of ten minutes. The Count had reputably taken well over two hours and Uncle Ivan had taken two hours exactly. Ingrid made sure to voice this the moment Boris stepped back outside.

He had only changed slightly in physical appearance. His eyes were no longer shaded brown, but practically black, and his skin was almost translucent it was so pale. There was an ethereal nature to Boris now, the sort of grace and lethality that accompanied any fully fledged vampire. But Vlad could not look for very long to notice much else because he felt a stab of intense sorrow upon seeing his cousin.

He made sure to avoid eye contact with Boris for the rest of the evening. His father and Uncle Ivan threw his cousin a briefly crafted celebration for his Turning and almost everybody was in a good mood – Ingrid included since she had no recollection that Boris had very nearly choked her to death. But Vlad found it very hard to participate in the festivities when he just felt a bone-deep exhaustion. It was like he had been jumping through one hoop after another lately and all he wanted was for time to just stop and allow him some peace. Nox noticed his master's mood throughout the evening and remained comfortingly within reach whenever Vlad needed it.

When dawn finally neared, everybody moved to return to their respective room for some much needed sleep. Vlad wished to curl into bed as soon as possible, but he had one last task to complete before he hid under his covers from the world.

"Can I talk to you?" Vlad asked Boris as the older boy was making his way down to the dungeons where his own newly made coffin would be.

Boris had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the night. He had been that way since the third event, only angrily saying that he didn't remember anything like everybody else who had been at the event. Ingrid and Olga took it as a sign that while his transformation had indeed influenced him for the better, it hadn't done much for his normally quiet nature.

But Vlad knew better. And he had to play his cards right if he wanted this to turn out the way he needed it to.

The moment they were alone, in one of the many empty hallways guarded only by armor and ancient trinkets, Vlad snapped his fingers to cast an imperturbable charm around them. Boris actually reacted at the snap, taking a step back even though all Vlad had done was prevent the rest of the inhabitants from hearing them. He looked confused as he did so, as if he wasn't sure why his body was retreating.

Good, Vlad thought viciously, summoning all of the cold anger he had felt when he had seen Boris strangling his sister. He couldn't afford to be soft with this Boris. This was no longer the same cousin. This was somebody entirely different, who wouldn't hesitate to murder his family if it meant gaining power. Because at his core, Boris was afraid and he had found power was the only way to stop feeling that way. And that was very dangerous.

Vlad couldn't expel Boris from the family, but he could make sure to scare his cousin enough to prevent any possible future attacks.

"Vlad, what are you doing?"

He didn't allow himself to think, only moved. Boris was a vampire now, complete with vampire speed and powers even if he was still inexperienced. "Arresto Momentum. Langlock. Flipendo. Petrificus Totalus."

A vampire at full speed would have beheaded Vlad already. But Boris had been struck by Vlad's first slowing spell and that had prevented any possible retaliation. Boris was thrown back, cracking his head against the stone wall as Vlad pressed a transfigured knife against his cousin's throat. They were barely inches from each other, so close that they could see the individual lashes upon each other's eyes.

"I know what you're thinking," Vlad hissed, allowing himself no weakness. "You're thinking that you're finally powerful, aren't you? That with your transformation you don't have to fear anything anymore. But maybe…you could have more power just in case. Maybe if you're stronger than anybody else, you could be invincible." Boris's eyes were wide, but he could not speak with his tongue literally tied. Vlad smirked. "It's so obvious. Did you think you could hide it? Did you think you were being sneaky?"

Vlad stabbed his knife into Boris's shoulder and watched his cousin silently scream. He hadn't transfigured just any knife; this was pure silver. "Let me make one thing clear." Vlad's voice was almost a whisper. "You should still be afraid. Because you are weak and you are beneath me and if you think you can set your eyes on the Dracula throne, then maybe I should just pluck your eyes out right now." He jerked the knife out of Boris's shoulder and kissed the tip of the blade to his cousin's eye.

"You think you will ever be strong enough to take me?' And then he laughed because it really was just that funny. "Please. I'm not even Turned yet and you're practically wetting yourself."

There was something sickeningly satisfying to see Boris almost quailing. Something deep and animal within him wriggled in black joy because this was what should happen to anybody who dared touch Vlad's family. He was enjoying this – bats, he was – but something within him was absolutely repulsed by how right this felt and he snapped his fingers to undo the knot on Boris's tongue so he could speak.

"You're crazy," Boris said, his eyes never wavering from the knife's point. "I'm not afraid –"

Vlad's arm moved before he could stop it. All he felt was a flash of white, hot fury (what impudence, how dare he talk back when he was just lucky to still be alive) and then Boris really did scream, nothing silent about it this time. A large gash sliced across the cheekbone, from the bridge of Boris's nose to the edge of his ear and black blood covered the entire right side of the face almost instantaneously. Something told Vlad that this would scar.

You should do it again.

No, no. This was starting to go too far. He was only supposed to scare his cousin.

Boris has to learn his lesson.

And he had. There were actual tears in Boris's eyes now and Vlad knew this was enough of an impression. Just in case though, he transfigured the knife back into a spoon he had taken from the dinner table.

"Take one step out of line, make any move towards gaining more power, and I will make sure not to miss next time."

Vlad left Boris alone in the hall after that. The message had been delivered and when the Dracula family met for breakfast again at dusk, Boris arrived with a new scar that he blamed on a knife trick he had been learning.

He sat as far away from Vlad as possible.

Happy Halloween!

This is the last we will see of the vampire world for now. Vlad still has the rest of his summer and all of Third Year before he dives back in.

Please forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes. I did check briefly for any obvious mistakes, but I do usually have a few here and there.

Till next time!