Barely a minute after Sullivan and Tonks vacated the area, a dozen figures popped into existence out of thin air. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt leading two additional squads of Aurors to the rescue.
The Ministry had received intel about potential vampire activity in Northumberland and dispatched Kingsley's team to investigate.
They quickly noted the town's suspicious spike in mortality rates and the disappearance of three young women. The investigation team connected the dots to the vampires and locked onto the castle in the woods as the primary target.
Their intel was mostly correct, but there was one massive variable they hadn't accounted for: the vampire in charge was a Count-tier powerhouse.
After a brutal skirmish, Kingsley had been forced to retreat with his team. Tonks, however, had been outed as a Metamorphmagus. Dracula, willing to tank some damage to keep her, had captured her for his ritual.
Kingsley rushed back, rallied three more squads, and returned to siege the castle.
But when they breached the great hall, Tonks and the vampire were gone. The place was a wreck, covered in signs of high-level combat.
Kingsley, with his years of experience, read the battlefield like a book. Fire curses, Blasting Curses, traces of a Patronus... judging by the scorch marks on the walls, it looked like the work of four or five wizards.
"Someone beat us to it," one of the squad captains noted. "They must have extracted Tonks."
Kingsley looked up at the shattered ceiling. "Agreed. The hostage has been rescued, but it looks like the Count gave chase. Let's move!"
The Aurors mounted their brooms and shot through the hole in the roof. It didn't take long for them to spot Dracula hovering in mid-air, looking completely zoned out.
The Aurors didn't realize he was currently tripping on hallucinogens. They fired a synchronized volley of spells, blasting Dracula out of the sky.
Unfortunately, the impact sobered him up.
Dracula shook off the daze, realizing he'd been hit with some sort of psychedelic alchemical agent and that his Metamorphmagus prize had escaped.
His rage meter maxed out instantly. He was humiliated and furious, but the pain from his injuries was a sharp reminder that this wasn't the time to hunt down the girl.
The power of his bloodline surged. His wounds began to knit together at a visible rate. With a violent flap of his wings, he dissolved into a mist of blood and surged toward one of the male wizards with speed that bordered on teleportation.
If Sullivan had seen this burst of speed, he would've been glad he didn't try to outrun this guy on the motorcycle. If Dracula had hit them mid-air with that kind of velocity, the bike would have been scrap metal.
The wizard reacted fast, casting a Protego. But the Shield Charm shattered in less than a tenth of a second.
The wizard managed to dodge the fatal blow to his chest, but Dracula tore his right arm clean off, sending him plummeting from his broom.
Dracula caught the severed arm, squeezed the blood from it, and condensed the liquid into a floating red sphere. With a wave of his hand, the sphere split into five blood-arrows that shot toward the surrounding Aurors.
Panic set in. The Aurors scattered, firing curses wildly. But Dracula was like a lion in a pack of hyenas—blocking spells with his wings while launching counter-attacks.
In the end, Dracula smashed six broomsticks before retreating. He wasn't unscathed, though; his wings were scorched, and a massive laceration on his chest had nearly exposed his heart.
"Do we pursue?" a captain asked Kingsley.
Kingsley looked grim. "No. That monster is too strong—he's borderline Duke-tier. We have wounded. We need to get back to the Ministry for treatment."
"But what about Tonks?" a younger Auror asked anxiously.
"If someone already rescued her, she's likely safe," Kingsley said, though he sounded resigned. He had no idea where to even start looking. "She'll contact us when she can."
---
Meanwhile, underwater.
Sullivan and Tonks had plunged into the deep pool. Sullivan quickly realized that in her paralyzed state, Tonks couldn't hold her breath. She was trying to breathe normally, choking on water, her eyes wide with distress.
Sullivan, being the righteous protagonist he was, had no choice. He didn't know the Bubble-Head Charm.
And hey, he told himself, this is also to stop Dracula from tracking any magical signatures.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers to share his oxygen. Her lips were cold, soft, and tasted faintly sweet.
Tonks' eyes went wide with shock, which quickly melted into shy embarrassment. Sullivan held her tight with one arm, kicking his legs to propel them while scanning the underwater terrain.
He spotted a cave entrance and swam toward it.
In the heat of the moment, Sullivan hadn't been thinking about anything but survival. But now, with the adrenaline fading and the sensory details kicking in—the sweetness of the kiss, the smooth skin, the soft curves pressed against him—his body reacted.
Tonks couldn't move or speak, but her sense of touch was fully operational. Her gauze dress was soaked, clinging to her like a second skin.
It was late October in the UK, so the water was freezing. Yet, as they swam, things were heating up. Tonks felt something rigid against her thigh—like a heating rod—swaying with Sullivan's movements.
Splashes.
They finally broke the surface inside a subterranean limestone cave.
Sullivan pulled out a magical lantern from his extension bag, illuminating the cavern and sending a few bats screeching into the shadows.
He cast a Scouring Charm to dry them both off, then wrapped Tonks in one of his spare wizarding robes.
"Alright, Tonks," Sullivan said. "I'm going to ask questions. Look up for 'yes,' shake your eyes left and right for 'no.' Can you do that?"
Tonks looked up immediately.
"Can your mana flow normally?"
She looked left and right. No.
"Are your five senses working?"
She looked up. Yes.
"Can you sense external magic?" Sullivan lit his wand tip and brought it close to her face.
She looked left and right again. No.
Her magic was locked, and her motor functions were severed. It seemed like two different restriction methods. Sullivan racked his brain but couldn't figure out the specific mechanism.
However, since vampires are dark creatures, it was likely a curse. Sullivan rummaged through his bag and pulled out a ring.
It was an Anti-Curse Ring, another collaboration with his American Potions Master buddy. The gem on the ring contained a specialized potion that absorbed curses from the wearer's body until the blue gem turned black.
He slid the ring onto Tonks' middle finger.
Instantly, visible black smoke rose from her skin, swirling around her before being sucked into the ring.
Tonks gasped, sitting up violently as if waking from a nightmare, gulping down air.
She scrambled to her feet and threw herself at Sullivan, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. The spare robe slipped off, leaving her in the skimpy vampire maid outfit once again.
"Sullivan ! Thank you... sob... thank you! If you hadn't come, I was going to die! I was so scared... sob..."
Sullivan hugged her back, patting her smooth shoulder to calm her down. "It's okay. It's over. We're safe now."
After crying for a minute, Tonks realized she was practically naked. She quickly let go, grabbed the robe from the floor, and wrapped herself up tightly. She blushed crimson.
"It's a bit cold," she stammered, trying to regain composure. "Where's your heating rod? Can I hold it for a bit?"
"My what?" Sullivan looked confused.
"The heating rod! The thing you had in your pocket underwater. It was pressed against my stomach and thigh. It was really hard, but super warm!" She even used her hands to gesture the size and shape.
"Cough! Cough!" Sullivan choked on air. "Oh, that. Uh... it broke underwater. Lost it. Gone forever. Anyway, let's get out of here."
Tonks pouted. "Fine... Wait. My magic... I still can't use it?"
She tried to cast a spell, but while her paralysis was gone, her magical core was still inert. Panic returned to her face.
Sullivan frowned. He checked the ring on her hand. The gem had darkened, but it wasn't fully black yet. That meant the thing blocking her magic wasn't a curse.
"This is above my pay grade," Sullivan admitted. "Come back to Hogwarts with me. Dumbledore will know how to fix it."
"Okay!" Tonks agreed without hesitation. After everything that happened, being near Sullivan felt like the safest place on earth. She didn't want to leave his side.
She glanced down at her hand. Her mind started racing. Why did he put the ring on my middle finger? Is he... implies an engagement? He hasn't asked yet, but if he does propose... do I say yes? Or do I say YES?
Sullivan, completely oblivious to her internal monologue, grabbed her hand and started looking for the exit.
It was simple enough: if there were bats, there was a way out. He cast Lumos to annoy the bats, watched where they flew, and followed them.
Half an hour later, they climbed out of a sinkhole. The moon was high in the sky, casting a peaceful glow over the forest.
Bzzt.
Sullivan's phone vibrated. It was a text from Dumbledore: [Sorry Sullivan , I was reading. What's up?]
Sullivan checked the time. It had been four hours since he messaged the Headmaster. Classic Dumbledore.
He couldn't exactly get mad at the most powerful wizard alive, especially since he needed a favor. He typed back: [Professor, coming to see you in an hour. Got a bit of a situation.]
He pulled the motorcycle out of his bag and opened the storage trunk. "You can hide in here. I'll let you out when we land."
"No way," Tonks said, swinging her leg over the seat. "I'm riding on the back."
Sullivan didn't argue. He revved the engine, and the bike shot into the night sky.
"Don't go so fast! Slow down!" Tonks wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his back.
"Cold?" Sullivan asked over the wind.
"No," she murmured softly. "I just... I like this. It feels nice."
Sullivan laughed. "You like biking? I'll build you one later. You can go for joyrides whenever you want."
Tonks rolled her eyes behind his back but didn't argue. "By the way, Sullivan ... the Count took my phone. Do you think he broke it?"
Sullivan wasn't worried about Dracula accessing her data. The accounts were magically bound; she only had Sullivan as a contact, so even if Dracula used it, he could only text Sullivan.
"Don't worry about it. He can't use it. I'll make you a new one when we get back. This time I'll add real-time GPS positioning so I can find you wherever you are."
"Really?" Tonks beamed. His words made her feel warm and fuzzy—like she was being cherished.
Sullivan cruised at a lower speed, but the UK isn't that big. Fifty minutes later, they were landing at Hogwarts.
It had been a crazy day. Sullivan estimated Dracula's stats—Magic Resistance, Strength, Speed, Attack Power—were all hovering around Level 8 or 9.
If the vampire had possessed any ranged magical attacks, Sullivan might not have made it back.
He was exhausted, but sleep had to wait. He led Tonks straight to the Headmaster's office.
"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore," Tonks said, bowing slightly, looking a bit nervous.
Dumbledore remembered her well. You don't forget a Metamorphmagus student easily. He looked between the two of them with surprise. "Sullivan , Nymphadora... what brings you two together?"
"Here's the deal..." Sullivan recounted the entire event, with Tonks filling in the details about her capture.
Dumbledore listened, his brow furrowing. He drew the Elder Wand and pointed it at Tonks. A milky white light, similar to a Patronus but with a different flow of mana, drifted from the tip.
The light sank into Tonks' body, but moments later, it was rejected—emerging from her skin dyed a deep blood-red.
Dumbledore lowered his wand. "If I am not mistaken, this is a specific form of Blood Magic unique to vampires."
"Can she recover?" Sullivan asked anxiously.
"Rest assured, Su. I can resolve this," Dumbledore said calmly. "However, Nymphadora, you will need to stay at Hogwarts for a while. I will write to Kingsley and arrange for your extended leave."
Tonks didn't look worried at all. In fact, she looked thrilled. "That's fine, Professor! No problem!"
Realizing she sounded a little too eager, she dialed it back. "I mean... I haven't been back to school in years. It'll be nice to visit."
Dumbledore saw right through her. His eyes twinkled as he turned to Sullivan.
"Sullivan , if memory serves, your office quarters have two bedrooms, correct?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Excellent. Then why don't we have Nymphadora stay in your guest room? That way, you can monitor her condition closely. Nymphadora, how does that sound to you?" Dumbledore gave her a knowing, grandfatherly smile.
Tonks turned bright red but lowered her head shyly. "I have no objections. Sorry for the trouble, Professor Sullivan !"