It took several uncomfortable, unfortunate, unappealing, and altogether unsettling minutes for the king of all vampires to settle down. He clung to Harry like a mewling kitten the entire time, weeping about his 'Jeremiah' and the unfairness of life. Regretfully for Harry, or thankfully considering Luna couldn't shake him with Dracula already doing so, his robe slid down and revealed some of the wounds he'd suffered on the train ride over.

Blaise laughed at the sight. "So much for coming out unscathed; huh, Potter?"

"Shut up," Harry grumbled. "Before I pop a hole in you and give you over as a juice box."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly," Dracula said with a hard, phlegmy snort. "I, I couldn't possibly drink more in such a state."

"If you don't stop crying you'll have to drink just to rehydrate," Harry said with a sneer. "Honestly, you call yourself a king and act like this?"

"I know you're right," Dracula whined. "I just, I just can't bear this pain. The Renfield line has served me for centuries and now they're just gone!" Everyone besides the king and his aide tensed as he clearly began to prepare for another cry. "I just-"

Crack.

Once more Harry had slapped the king of all vampires, and once more everyone else was left stunned.

"None of that!" Harry snapped. "I don't care who or what you are, I am not sitting through that again. Do I make myself clear?"

For a moment, Luna and Blaise worried that perhaps two slaps was one too many, but eventually Dracula sighed and nodded. He fell back into his throne with a pout and waved a clawed hand at Tantellize. "I've changed my mind. Go fetch us some drinks."

What happened from there was… it was a bit hectic, to say the least. What started as 'some' drinks quickly led to 'many' drinks, which in turn rapidly devolved into the entire throne room being swarmed by a crowd of vampires, humans, and all manner of other sentient beings. The angst-inducing melodies of the orchestra and choir had been replaced with a roaring baritone voice, shrieking notes from guitars and a keyboard, and a drum whose thumps and clangs practically lifted the partiers off their feet.

A full blown rave had broken out.

Blaise was immediately rallying against the debauchery, calling for Harry to stop it at once. Luna played along with the merriment at first, enjoying the pleasant, festive mood that had come down across the hall. She quickly decided she agreed with the Zabini heir once the hard drugs and violence came out. People, including their party's 'leader', were snorting things she hadn't even heard of with awful names like 'moon love' or 'the king's guano'. She really, really hoped that second one wasn't what it sounded like.

Harry blatantly told them both to fuck off.

"Alright, hold still, gorgeous," Harry said. Tantellize just nodded, his chiselled forearm held out with a line of dull-yellow powder lined up across it. "Here we go."

The living legend drew his nose along and just a hair above the drug, snorting it in a long breath that expanded his chest till the last inch was done in a few small, staggered puffs. Harry pulled up, held his breath for a moment longer, then blew it out in the form of a plume of smoke that quickly joined the rest hanging like clouds above the throne room. His eyes were rolled back, his whole body was tensed, and a singular drop of blood was beginning to drip out of his nostril.

"Not bad," Dracula said, scooping that drop away with one of his clawed nails before sliding the finger into his mouth. "Now, watch this. Tantellize!"

"Of course, my king." Harry frowned when the other man began to unbutton his shirt. "Give me just a moment, this wrinkles like nothing else."

Harry plopped back into the king's throne as the incubus-like being finished folded his shirt. "Listen, can you two not make this weird?"

The king of all vampires made a 'get on with it' gesture, and Tantellize pushed aside boxes and glasses and bags from the table that someone had set up in front of the throne. He leaned over it till his chest was pressed flat against its surface, his gorgeous blonde locks were draped over his shoulder beside him like a cape, and his head was resting against his crossed arms like they were a pillow.

"Alright, you can make it a little weird," Harry said, folding one leg across the other, frowning but only half-looking away. "But I'm only going to watch, no touching."

To many onlookers' disappointment, Dracula simply began to sprinkle out another line of the drug from a velvet bag onto the manservant's back. As he went, a pair of women who could've been anywhere between twenty-two and twenty-two hundred years old were straightening it out behind him. When he finished pouring, he stepped back so the pair could finish their work, then took a deep breath from the bag itself.

He breathed out a stream of smoke as the women bowed and stepped away from the recently seasoned man meat.

"Watch this."

The vampire, starting between the half-moon axes Tantellize called shoulder blades, drew his own nose down the near-pearlescent flesh until he reached the small of the man's back. He reared up like a bear when he finished, and bellowed a roar that literally shook the castle as a volcano eruption's worth of smoke spewed out of his mouth.

"Whoo!" Harry hollered. "Now that's a fucking a dragon."

"Yes!" The vampire stomped over, nearly stabbed our hero with the way his nails dug into his face, and leaned in close. "You get me! …What are you doing?"

Harry had drawn his wand and pressed it hard against the vampire's throat, leaving an indent that made blue and black veins stand out all the stronger against the king's pallid flesh.

"I told you," Harry started. "Not to make things weird."

Dracula pouted at him. "You seemed like you were changing your mind."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "That was when he had his shirt off."

Tantellize finished buttoning said shirt. "Forgive me, my king."

Putting aside the concerns regarding consent that the discussion could cause, Tantellize's unique 'aura' really was interesting. I know for a fact that Harry is straight, but even that wasn't enough to stop the being's… Well, tantalising nature. Blaise didn't seem to notice it at all on the other hand. He found him handsome, sure, but not in any stronger a way than he might find a painting beautiful or a sunset breathtaking. The pureblood certainly wasn't considering trying a drug that very well might kill him the way Luna was considering, and Harry had already tried.

I've since asked several experts on both satyrs and nymphs about the way the man's abilities worked, and none had even considered such a coupling before. They were all just amazed to hear such a being existed. Most also asked to meet him. When I told them such a thing would involve visiting the epicentre of the vampire civil war, they quickly retracted that offer.

(Should we cut that? I might've gotten distracted by memories of Tantellize.)

It was almost like a game between him and Dracula to see who could get the other to play chicken first. In the beginning it was just about who would imbibe the most intoxicants, but it quickly turned to a competition of masochism.

"See these?" Harry asked, holding out his hands palm-down to show off the silver-knuckles. "Popped those fucks on the train's heads right off. Except that last one, anyways."

"Come now," Dracula said. "You really think those little things could hurt me?"

"Betcha they could."

"I wager they shan't."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the vampire. Dracula cocked a brow in return. The two both stood, and immediately their remora-like sycophants began backing away. A quiet lull came over the room as all eyes turned towards the two. Even the band's raging came to a still.

"Go on then," Dracula said, tapping his jaw. "One strike, right across the-"

Bang.

Harry broke the bones in his hand leading up to his ring and pinky fingers.

Dracula lost his second-molar-twelfth-grown, third-molar-fifth-grown, and was unconscious for the following ten minutes.

Afterwards the pair laughed and went back to snorting 'guano'.

And they weren't the only ones participating in wanton melees. At one point Luna saw a troll get knocked out by a particularly large half-giant, and Blaise swears he witnessed two different murders. All sorts of proper duels were carried out under the 'impartial' watch of King Dracula, who blatantly cheered for whoever he wanted to win while Harry rooted for whomever he didn't. Even Blaise nearly got dragged into a duel when they met some of the others who'd come to help investigate Renfield's death.

It was a group of Scandinavian witches and wizards, Swedes if my guess is right based on things I later learned about Harry, and they opened the dialogue with the Zabini heir by calling him something in their native tongue that he took quite some offence to.

"Excuse me?" he said, in English. "I'm hoping I misheard you."

The lead Swede, the rare sort of wizard who actually stood taller than the other man, smirked back at him. "I'm hoping you heard right."

The Scandinavian wizard was built like a giant. Proportionately a good deal smaller than one, but the shape was about right, and the proportions weren't too far off. He had thick, black hair that bled into a matching beard, giving him the appearance of a face sticking out of a furry hedge. He wore robes that were more fashionable than formal, revealing a bare and hairy chest beneath them. The 'posse' following him all possessed similarly rugged and rebellious styles.

Luna grabbed Blaise's wrist before it could take hold of his wand, but the pureblood ripped his hand away from her.

"If that's how you really feel, how about you do more than just talk?" Blaise said through gritted teeth. "Because believe me when I say-"

"Already bored." The other man slammed his shoulder into Blaise's, sending the much thinner man stumbling back. "Better hope we don't catch any of you alone, kuksugare."

I'll later explain why it was they held such enmity towards us, but suffice to say, it was Harry's fault. Some sports fans might already know what happened.

"I swear to Merlin…" Blaise said before muttering something I wouldn't feel comfortable writing out. "I don't know why I agreed to this."

"Because your boss told you to do it?" Luna said, hoping to bring some levity to the situation and calm the former Death Eater down. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll either figure it out soon or Harry will accidentally kill Dracula, one or other."

Blaise didn't take kindly to her joke. She could tell by the way his nose wrinkled and his lip curled back, and she could almost hear the words he wanted to say. Just like Harry hadn't truly let go of any grudges from the war, neither had the Zabini heir. Unlike Harry though, Blaise didn't have the leeway to just spout off with whatever came to his mind.

Mainly because of Harry.

"We can only hope," he finally responded. "Are you going to drag Potter out of here, or shall I?"

"Oh I couldn't possibly," Luna said, speaking honestly and with only the faintest hint of challenge to her tone. She hadn't appreciated the words he'd almost said. "But if you can, be my guest."

To Blaise's credit, he really did try.

He marched right on over to Harry and the gaggle of giggling women, simpering men, and Dracula himself. It was a battle in and of itself just to get across what had turned from a throne room into a dance floor, but after receiving around a dozen gropings and countless pleading whispers, he'd made it. When he finally broke through the throngs of people near where the king's throne was, he discovered the vampire was practically copulating with a woman on his throne. Harry was sitting beside the king, eyes focused off into an unseeable distance as various substances rolled through him.

"Potter," he started.

"Malf-, no, wait, Zabini," Harry managed to get out. "What do ya want?"

"He wants to leave," Dracula whined. "Everyone wants to leave. I can tell. I can see it inside your minds."

"Quit… Peeping inside minds, ya damned… Pervert," Harry verbally stumbled. "It ain't good for your own minds."

"I can't help it," the vampire groaned back. "I hate all these stupid powers or whatever. I just want some quiet."

Blaise grit his teeth. "Potter, we need to-"

Dracula slammed his fist into the table, destroying the piece of furniture and sending the various people surrounding its drinks and drugs spilling to the floor. Just like when Harry had challenged him before, the vampire's primordial magic filled the air and strangled everyone. Unlike when Harry was incidentally shielding them, Blaise couldn't stand up to the strength, and collapsed to the floor.

"Just sleep anywhere!" Dracula roared. "Take my own fucking bed if it suits you! Leave us alone."

Harry, being Harry, leaned over to the king and 'whispered', "Call him a bitch."

"Bitch!"

Like that Harry was cackling away at the joke that only he could find funny. He was the only one not struggling to breathe, after all. Even Luna, still just awkwardly standing around in the corner of the room opposite of where the orchestra and choir were, was doubled over. Most of those closest to the alpha vampire passed out as the seconds passed, and it wasn't until Blaise himself fell unconscious that Dracula relented.

"There," the king muttered. "Finally you know your place, mortal."

"Yeah," Harry added, drunkenly shaking his fist. "You tell him."

"Do you want a job?" Dracula leaned over so that his head was resting on Harry's shoulder. "I need a new servant."

"Nah…" our hero replied, shaking his head. "But I'm down to hang here for a while."

As Harry and the king continued to party, Luna half-carried and half-dragged Blaise away. A few guests tried to stop her and asked how much the unconscious wizard would be, but she was a morally upstanding witch, and her price was far, far too high for anyone to match.

Eventually she found someone in a rather skimpy outfit that gave off a 'maid' impression, and the fledgling vampire led her to a pair of bedrooms. Once she'd dumped Blaise off in one, she returned to the party. There she found Harry pinned between a blonde, a red head, and the wall. The Boy Who Lived was proving that he probably shouldn't be called just a 'boy' anymore, especially not with how far up one of the two's dresses his right hand had gone, and how far down the other's his left was.

"Harry!" He opened one one of his eyes. "Could I talk to you for a moment?!"

It was hard for Luna to hear herself think with how loud the music was.

Unfortunately for all of them, Harry wasn't thinking at all.

"That depends!" he shouted back. "Can I bring my two new friends along?!"

His 'friends' were both testing the bounds of his platonic trust in them by sucking on either side of his neck, a rather dangerous bit of foreplay given the fangs they revealed every time they pulled away.

"No!" Luna grabbed his collar, accidentally bumping one of the two girls, and began dragging him away. "Come on!"

After a brief bit of tug of war that Harry did not help her at all to win, she eventually managed to pull him away from the vampires and into a hall. There she immediately found her own self pinned to the wall.

"You're so comfy," Harry said, slumped over and only half-concious. "And your hairs so soft…"

"That's… Thank you, Harry, but not now." He groaned as she gently pushed him off. After a bit of stumbling and holding out his arms to balance himself, he stood up properly and glanced around in confusion. "You alright?"

"I'm fine." His eyes narrowed at the ceiling. "Is that why you called me here?"

Luna glanced up. There was nothing there. "Pardon?"

When she looked back down, Harry was already running away. Luna yelled for him to stop, but he just kept sprinting down the hall. Despite his inebriation, she quickly lost track of him. I said earlier he had grown a bit of a beer belly, but don't let that fool you. The man was, and still is, rather fit.

Even if he was carrying around an extra keg.

"Where are you going…" Harry asked the strange thing he was apparently following. "How'd you get up there…"

The mysterious presence he'd 'found' in his drug-addled state didn't respond. Instead it just led him further and further away from the throne room, into parts of Dracula's castle that only the least-enjoyed of the king's servants were forced to reside in. He sprinted down halls, took corners way too hard and slammed into way too many walls, until eventually he stumbled into an old maintenance chamber.

"Shit!" A voice cried upon his entrance. "It's him!"

There was a group of vampires there, all gathered together around a table with various papers and documents scattered across it. Harry paid them no mind, still following after whatever it was he thought he was chasing. He paid them so little mind in fact, that he knocked the table aside and stepped right over the various parchments until he stopped in front of the back wall.

"What are you?" he wondered. "How'd you get back there…"

"Uh…" One of the vampires cleared their throat. "What should we do?"

"Now where are you going?" Harry asked. He turned around, still stomping on papers, and began to wander away. "Now it's gone. Where am I?" He turned back around. "Who are all of you?"

"Weee… Are…" One of them started. "King Dracula's servants! We were worried you were getting lost, Mr. Potter, so we-"

"I'm not lost," he muttered. "Was looking for something."

Harry stormed out of the hidden maintenance room, high and certainly not embarrassed, and only then proceeded to get very lost. Or at least, that's what he told Luna when she and a team of 'borrowed' staff finally found him in a room with the red head she'd pulled him away from earlier. How his clothes managed to fall off, the reason behind one of his wounds reopening, and the way his and the vampire's lower halves had become connected were all mysteries that befuddled his drug-addled mind. He was simply 'lost'.