Dark Deals: The Vampire Who Owns Hogwarts

As Dumbledore raised his wand, a fiery gleam flickered in Dracula's eyes.

"After waiting so long, do I finally get the chance to fight you, Dumbledore?" A grin stretched across his lips, revealing two razor-sharp fangs. At the same time, his eerie wooden wand—crafted around a core of bone—slipped effortlessly into his right hand.

Dracula hadn't felt this exhilarated in centuries.

Over hundreds of years, only a handful of wizards had ever truly thrilled him in battle. They were the giants of their eras, Grand Sorcerers whose might was acknowledged across the magical world. But such wizards were exceedingly rare, and as time passed, fewer and fewer could hold his interest.

Tonight, however, was different.

Tonight, Dracula stood before the greatest wizard of the age—Albus Dumbledore. And for the first time in centuries, he was ready to fight with all his strength.

Dumbledore regarded the excited vampire with a solemn gaze, his attention fixed on the sphere of darkness hovering above his left palm.

The orb, as black as a starless void, had expanded to the size of a dragon's egg, distorting the air around it in violent ripples. Through this twisted haze, Dracula could barely make out Dumbledore's silhouette. A glimmer of mischief flashed behind the half-moon spectacles.

"Professor Dracula, I've changed my mind." Dumbledore suddenly winked, a playful lilt in his voice. "If you want to blow up Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, be my guest. I won't stop you."

With a casual flick of his wand, he traced a rune onto the stone partition beside the copper faucet. The rune shimmered like an all-seeing eye before fading into invisibility.

Then, with a burst of flames, a magnificent crimson bird materialized, perching gracefully on Dumbledore's shoulder. It stretched its elegant neck, gave Dracula an almost haughty glance, and with a sweep of its wings, both wizard and phoenix vanished from the abandoned girls' bathroom.

Dracula blinked.

He glanced at the volatile black orb in his palm, now even larger than a dragon's egg, and felt his eye twitch.

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. If he let this thing go off in here, he wouldn't just blow up the Chamber of Secrets—he'd take half of Hogwarts with it.

With a dark scowl, Dracula raised the wand he had meant to duel Dumbledore with and pointed at the grimy little window beside him.

"Finestra."

The glass shattered, revealing the inky night sky.

Without hesitation, he hurled the black sphere through the opening.

The orb shot upward, climbing rapidly into the sky until it became little more than a pinprick against the darkness.

Then—

BOOM.

A deep, rumbling detonation echoed across the castle, shaking its very foundations. Centuries-old dust rained from the rafters.

The night sky, once heavy with storm clouds, was suddenly stripped bare. The accumulated mist and gloom were swept away, revealing a resplendent full moon surrounded by a sea of stars. Below, the Black Lake shimmered under the moonlight, its surface studded with silvery reflections.

High above, in the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore stood by the window, watching the pristine sky with an amused smile.

"Do you think Professor Dracula understands my message now?" he mused, glancing at the phoenix on his shoulder.

Fawkes tilted his head.

Before the bird could respond, a crisp voice interjected. "Are you talking to me, Dumbledore?"

A freshly repaired hat hopped onto the windowsill, clearly unwilling to be ignored.

Dumbledore's smile faltered. His carefully cultivated moment of contemplation shattered like glass.

"No," he said, taking a deep breath. "I was not talking to you, Mr. Hat."

"Then you must have been talking to me!" came another voice, this one from a portrait hanging nearby.

Phineas Nigellus Black smirked down from his frame. "Mark my words, Albus—this Dracula is nothing but trouble."

"Shut up, Phineas!" snapped another portrait—one of Delis Devens, a former headmistress. "Can't you see Dumbledore is thinking?"

"Oh, I thought he was asking for our opinions," Phineas muttered.

The surrounding portraits erupted into a cacophony of chatter.

Dumbledore sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He turned away, leading Fawkes to another part of the office. With a firm snap, he shut the screen door that separated the portrait wall, muffling the noise behind it.

The effects of Dracula's spell rippled across Hogwarts.

----

In the entrance courtyard, two fifth-year prefects—Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater—were having a secret rendezvous under the cover of darkness.

Then, quite suddenly, the entire sky lit up.

The unexpected brightness sent a wave of panic through the rule-abiding couple. Stripped of the comforting shadows, they scrambled apart, blushing furiously before slipping back to their respective dormitories, their courage evaporated.

-----

Deep in the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid crouched in the underbrush, observing a group of fire crabs.

Nearby, a manticore lurked.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Hagrid had been attempting to introduce the two creatures—hoping, against all wisdom, to create a new species.

Just as he sprinkled a bit of creature pheromone into the air, the sky exploded with light.

The manticore and the fire crabs froze.

Then, with a united sense of outrage, they turned on the most obvious intruder—the enormous man who had just blown his own cover.

"Ah, ruddy hell—" Hagrid muttered, scrambling for safety as both species charged.

-----

Elsewhere in the castle, a pair of red-haired twins were mid-way through their weekly game of hide-and-seek with Argus Filch.

Fred and George Weasley had carefully lured Mrs. Norris away with a homemade cat toy, buying themselves time to hide in the shadows of the entrance hall.

Then came the explosion.

A deep tremor shook the castle, sending a thick cloud of dust drifting down from the ceiling.

Fred coughed.

Filch's ears perked.

"He heard that," George whispered urgently.

"Don't worry," Fred murmured. "It's pitch dark. We'll just sneak to another—"

At that precise moment, the storm clouds parted.

Moonlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the hallway—and, most inconveniently, the twins' hiding spot.

Fred and George stared at Filch.

Filch stared back.

"...Bugger," George muttered.

-----

Meanwhile, the true culprit of this chaos had already left the girls' bathroom.

Dracula strolled through the castle halls, his expression unreadable.

Only a small bat remained behind, hanging upside down in the bathroom's shadows, its beady eyes fixed on the copper faucet.

Dracula understood Dumbledore's message.

And he would not forget it.