From that day on, Dracula never ate in the Great Hall of Hogwarts again.
Although as the oldest existing vampire, Dracula doesn't have the typical weaknesses of low-level vampires—like damage from sunlight, silverware, or garlic—his innate dislike for those things remained ever-present.
Fortunately, since 1811, the then Minister of Magic, Grogan Stump, had established a new definition of "person," which included goblins, vampires, hags, giants, house elves, Veela, and werewolves in human form under the category "people." This new classification led to a surge in food and drinks catering to magical creatures, including vampires and goblins.
Dracula was pleasantly surprised to discover a growing range of food and drink options specifically designed for creatures like him. For instance, Honeydukes' blood-flavored lollipops and Florin Fusco's blood-flavored ice cream were some of the many offerings. Thanks to these culinary innovations, Dracula had no desire to revisit the Great Hall, where dishes like Maoxuewang waited to torture his senses.
In the month leading up to the start of school, Dracula left all lesson plans and preparations to his teaching assistant, Quirrell, while he roamed throughout Britain, seeking out all sorts of curious things.
As for embracing his role as a professor? Dracula wasn't quite there yet...
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Before they knew it, September 1st had arrived.
It was the first day of school at Hogwarts, and the old students began disembarking from the Thestral-drawn carriages. They walked around the square teaching area of Hogwarts Castle, making their way to the luxurious auditorium in the southwest.
The auditorium was lined with four long tables stretching across its expanse. Thousands of floating candles illuminated the room, casting a warm glow over the gleaming gold plates and goblets set before the students. At the far end of the room, on a raised stage, sat another long table where the professors were seated.
"Li, do you want to make a bet with us?"
At the long Gryffindor table, two red-haired boys who looked exactly alike leaned toward the dark-skinned boy next to them.
"If you don't bet on anything else, just bet on how long this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor can last!" One of the red-haired boys, George, said with a mischievous wink.
"I won't bet with you, you two are too crafty!" The black boy, Lee Jordan, turned his head away with a dismissive expression, clearly uninterested.
"Aw, don't be like that, mate!!" Fred, the other twin, threw his arm around Jordan's shoulders and yanked him back. "Hear us out first—we're betting the new professor only lasts six months!"
Lee Jordan raised his eyebrows in surprise, and then his eyes grew wide. His dark skin contrasted with the bright white of his eyeballs, making them seem comically large.
"Are you serious?" he exclaimed in disbelief. "I'll bet 9 months then!! For six months, even a dog can survive this job!"
Jordan slapped a gold galleon onto the table confidently.
Fred and George exchanged a knowing look, their lips twitching with barely contained grins. They had already decided: if the professor wasn't laid off within six months, they'd make sure the new one was very gone.
"We're gonna win this one!" they said in unison, practically bursting with excitement.
The twins high-fived each other, practically jumping up and down as they celebrated their future victory.
Just as the twins began to fantasize about all the ways they would spend the gold coins they were certain to win, a slender, pale hand emerged from the shadows and delicately placed a thick stack of gold galleons beside Jordan's.
Fred, George: "!!!"
The twins could swear by Merlin's beard that they'd never seen so many galleons in their lives. Their mouths hung open in shock as they turned to face the hand's owner. Standing behind them was a silver-haired wizard, his lips curling into a playful smile, like he had just stepped out of some mysterious thriller novel.
"I bet 20 galleons that the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor won't be laid off," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement.
Fred and George exchanged delighted, mischievous grins, their excitement practically radiating off them.
As everyone knew, no Defense Against the Dark Arts professor ever lasted long—not that there was any lack of charm in the job, of course. It was more like a career that came with an expiration date, just like a carton of milk in a cupboard. Surely, this time, they were destined for victory.
"Its fixed! No regrets!" they declared in unison, their faces beaming with victory before they'd even won.
Without missing a beat, they high-fived so enthusiastically that they nearly knocked over a stack of books sitting on the nearby table.
The silver-haired wizard watched them with an amused glint in his eye, his smile widening slightly. It was as if he knew something they didn't, making their situation even more amusing to him.
But as they were about to go into full celebratory mode, they suddenly noticed something strange—the atmosphere had become eerily quiet.
Confused, they turned around and saw their classmates staring at them, Lee Jordan winking at them repeatedly, though his dark skin made his winks almost invisible.
"Ahem!"
A sharp, disapproving cough echoed through the hall.
The twins slowly turned their heads and saw Professor McGonagall standing beside them, her lips tight, her fists clenched in a very un-McGonagall-like gesture of rage.
"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley..." Her voice was calm but seething with fury. "How dare you openly gamble during the opening ceremony, and on a professor, no less!"
The twins froze, realizing for the first time that the entire auditorium had been watching them for who knows how long. It was only then that they noticed the empty seats at the professor's table—one beside Dumbledore, and the other unmistakably belonging to the silver-haired wizard who had just bet 20 galleons on himself.
Dumbledore was watching them with an amused twinkle in his eye, but McGonagall's glare could have cut through steel.
Lee Jordan, now fully aware of what was going on, turned to the twins with a knowing look, silently mouthing, "You're in trouble!"
Fred and George, their faces paling slightly, turned sheepishly to Dracula, who had just placed a thick pile of galleons beside Lee's bet.
"Professor... Professor, would you believe us if we said that wasn't intentional?" George stammered weakly.
"We... we just saw that Lee was looking a bit down and wanted to cheer him up," Fred added, trying to recover.
Lee, however, looked at Fred in disbelief.
"Quiet, Weasley!" Professor McGonagall snapped, her patience clearly running out. She dragged the twins back to their seats, giving them a final, ominous warning. "Report to my office after the feast. You'll have plenty of time to reflect on your behavior in detention for the next month!"
With that, McGonagall stormed out of the auditorium, off to welcome the new first-year students.
Dracula, still chuckling, looked over his shoulder at the two mischievous Weasley twins, who were now sitting stiffly in their seats.
Professor McGonagall had left, but before Dracula made his way to the staff table, he saw the twins eyeing his pile of galleons.
"Professor, your Galleons... are still... uh..." Fred began, but was quickly cut off by Lee Jordan, who snatched the Galleons from the table with the speed of a Quidditch Seeker.
Fred and George stared at each other for a moment before they both pounced, their hands wriggling through the air as they tried to reclaim the gold.
A brief wrestling match ensued, much to the amusement of the surrounding students.
But soon, the twins hastily separated and sat upright at the Gryffindor table, their mischievous grins replaced by innocent expressions of forced composure.
Professor McGonagall had returned, her sharp eyes scanning the room as she led a nervous group of wide-eyed first-years into the Great Hall.
Dracula, with a grin on his face, silently congratulated himself. This was definitely going to be an interesting year.
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