NOVEL NEXT Chapter 32: Snape's Suspicion
"Knock knock knock"
As the black-haired young man's sinister smile froze, knocking echoed through Quirrell's office, sending a jolt through him. The shadowy figure dissolved in an instant, vanishing like droplets of ink into the diary's blank pages.
"knock knock knock." The knocking came again, firmer this time.
Quirrell scrambled to hide the diary, stuffing it into a drawer and locking it tight. He dispelled the soundproofing charm and nervously walked toward the door.
"Wh-Who's there?"
"It's me," Dracula's smooth, unmistakable voice replied from the other side. "I felt bad for being too rough earlier. I thought I'd check if there's anything I can do for your... injuries."
Quirrell's face paled. You're exactly who I don't want to see! he thought despairingly. But with no valid excuse to refuse, he frantically scanned the room, ensuring no compromising evidence remained, before reluctantly opening the door.
Dracula strode in effortlessly, his sharp eyes sweeping over the office.
"Why the delay? Were you hiding something?" he asked, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips.
"No, no! I just... I suddenly got a headache," Quirrell stammered, trying to maintain composure.
"Oh, my fault entirely." Dracula sighed with mock regret. "I was far too harsh earlier. To think a diligent teacher like you, buried in lesson plans and homework corrections, would suffer because of my doubts! I even smashed your head into the floor... quite unbecoming of me."
Quirrell's face twitched, but he forced an apologetic smile. "You... you acted out of concern for Hogwarts, Professor Dracula. I felt a little wronged, but... it's fine."
"No!" Dracula exclaimed, feigning righteous anger. "You've shown such understanding; I must make amends. I'll find a way to rid you of those unsightly scars on the back of your head!"
"N-No need!" Quirrell blurted out, panicked. "I... I'm fine!"
"Are you rejecting my goodwill, Teacher Quirrell?" Dracula's gentle smile chilled the room, and the air grew heavier with every word.
Terrified, Quirrell quickly switched tactics, nodding fervently. "Thank you, Professor Dracula," he said, barely able to hide the tremor in his voice.
Satisfied, Dracula stepped behind Quirrell, studying the three grotesque scars on the back of his head. "How did you get these scars, Mr. Quirrell?" he asked nonchalantly.
Quirrell stiffened. With the looming presence of someone so dangerous, he repeated the excuse he had prepared long ago. "I... I encountered a vampire in Romania. We fought... a vicious battle, and he left these claw marks as a curse that I couldn't... couldn't remove."
Dracula's expression shifted into quiet amusement.
As a vampire himself, he knew better than anyone what kind of wounds his kind left. Vampires rarely used their hands in such a cumbersome way; they preferred to strike at the junction of the shoulder and neck—an ideal spot for feeding.
Quirrell's explanation was a blatant lie, concealing something far more intriguing.
Having satisfied his curiosity, Dracula lost his interest. He moved away from Quirrell, his disdain for the grotesque scars evident, and made his way toward the door.
"Professor Dracula, aren't you going to examine my scars further?" Quirrell asked hesitantly, watching Dracula's retreating figure.
"No need," Dracula waved dismissively. "I'm afraid I can't help you with that."
And with that, he left the room, the door clicking softly behind him.
Quirrell stood frozen in confusion.
Less than a minute of looking, and he's already given up? Could he have been more half-hearted?!
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Dracula walked up the marble staircase that led to the castle's main tower, his footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls. He was heading toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, intending to pass through on his way back to his office.
However, as he entered the dimly lit classroom, he noticed someone standing silently at the podium. A tall figure cloaked in a flowing black robe blended seamlessly with the surrounding shadows, like an oversized bat waiting to strike.
"Professor Snape," Dracula drawled, raising an eyebrow. "What a coincidence to find you here."
Snape's dark, unfathomable eyes locked onto Dracula, his expression as stoic as ever.
"Not a coincidence," Snape replied in his signature slow, deliberate tone. "I was waiting for you."
Dracula smirked, his fangs glinting faintly in the low light. "Waiting for me? How dramatic. What for, Professor Snape?"
Snape ignored the taunt, his gaze unwavering. "Before we begin," he said coldly, "I have a question. Where were you just now, Professor Dracula?"
Dracula chuckled, an amused glint in his eye. "Since when does my business concern you, Severus?"
"It doesn't matter if you won't answer," Snape said, his lips curling into a sneer. "I can guess. You went to see Quirrell, didn't you?"
This time, Dracula's amusement faltered. Snape's sharp observation genuinely surprised him. He had been careful not to leave any trail, and he was certain no one had followed him.
Folding his arms across his chest, Dracula leaned casually against the doorframe, his curiosity piqued. "Go on, Professor Snape," he said, motioning with a hand. "Do enlighten me with your theories."
Snape's sneer deepened. "You and Quirrell are working together, aren't you?"
For a brief moment, Dracula's crimson eyes widened slightly in astonishment before narrowing again. He tilted his head, intrigued.
"You don't need to deny it," Snape pressed on, his voice low and cutting. "Let me lay it out for you. A wizard of your caliber wouldn't bother teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts unless something of immense value was at stake. And if that weren't enough, your so-called assistant has been poking around in restricted areas—particularly the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor."
Snape took a step closer, his black robes billowing like a stormcloud.
"He's dangerously close to uncovering the treasure hidden there. Don't bother denying it—you've sent him to do your dirty work, haven't you?"
Dracula tilted his head back and let out a short, amused laugh. "Maybe," he said, his tone light and unconcerned. "But what of it, Severus? What exactly do you want?"
Snape clenched his jaw, the shadows deepening around him as he slowly raised his wand, a sense of dread hanging in the air.
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