After a while of chatting with Dumbledore, Dracula began to feel a little deflated. He had come to the headmaster's office with a clear purpose—to investigate. Yet somehow, under Dumbledore's expectant gaze, it seemed his role had transformed into something he had to strive for in the future. Dracula couldn't help but mentally label Dumbledore as a master manipulator.
As the two made their way through the automatic spiral staircase and onto the fourth floor, heading toward the restricted section of the corridor, Dracula couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.
"I still don't get it," Dracula remarked, glancing down the empty hallway. "Why put your students in danger like this? What's the point of keeping a trap like this in a school?"
Dumbledore smiled thoughtfully, adjusting his glasses. "Professor Dracula, you mentioned that Voldemort could return at any time. If that's true, then I need to know where he stands. Hogwarts is the one place I can keep a constant watch."
"So this is actually a trap for Voldemort, right?" Dracula frowned slightly. "If Voldemort can fall for such a simple trap, I'm afraid I'll start worrying about the current state of the wizarding world."
"It's really your fault for letting such an idiot become a big devil who doesn't even dare to mention his name."
"Don't say that, Voldemort was still very clever when he was young." Dumbledore smiled. "It's just that I've placed treasures in these levels that he can't resist. I can guarantee that even if he knows it's a trap, Voldemort will still break in."
Oh?" Dracula's lips curled into a sly smile. "Are the treasures you've set as bait truly so valuable? Then if you lead me to set up these levels without precautions, are you not concerned that I, the evil vampire, might covet them and slip them away into the shadows?"
"Professor Dracula, there's no need for such suspicion," Dumbledore replied with a serene smile. "I trust you are not that type of person."
He paused, his eyes twinkling with a knowing glint. "Besides, you are already familiar with what's hidden there. According to Nico, you wouldn't even care to touch it."
Dracula's expression shifted subtly as he processed the words. Dumbledore's bait was something Voldemort desired with the desperation of a drowning man, yet had discarded without a second thought, like a garment cast aside after years of use.
"Nico lent you the Philosopher's Stone?" he asked, an eyebrow quirked in genuine curiosity.
Dumbledore nodded, his smile stretching wider.
"The cost is high to draw Voldemort out," Dracula mused, his lips curling in a slight sneer. "When Nico first spoke of you two as eternal friends, I didn't quite believe it. Now... I see he may have been underselling it."
Dracula's disinterest in the Philosopher's Stone was understandable. He had no use for its two most celebrated powers: the Elixir of Life and turning stones into gold.
As an immortal being, the pursuit of fun had long since become his sole reason to endure the passage of time.
Wealth, once a appealing dream, had long lost its allure. To Dracula, gold was a dull currency—nothing but an endless, repetitive cycle of numbers. The Stone's other strange properties might hold some interest, but after centuries spent with Nico, Dracula had grown tired of their novelty.
"How you intend to use it is your business," Dracula said dispassionately. "But how will you stop the bold ones from sneaking past? Especially those Gryffindor twins. The more you ban something, the more they'll want to tempt fate."
Dumbledore chuckled. "Ah, Professor Dracula, do not worry. Hagrid's little cutie will handle them. No harm will come to them... well, not any serious harm."
"Hagrid's little cutie?" Dracula raised an eyebrow, skepticism dripping from his voice.
"A rather large dog, but with the proper training, it won't harm any of the little wizards," Dumbledore explained, his tone light and teasing. "I may have had a hand in that as well."
Dracula snorted, clearly not buying into Dumbledore's reassurances. In his mind, it was clear: Hagrid had likely raised a ferocious beast, and Dumbledore had simply enchanted it to be more of a guard dog than a threat to the students. A simple spell of confusion, or perhaps a forgetfulness charm, would turn the beast into nothing more than a stumbling sentry, keeping the mischief-makers at bay.
As they continued their conversation, they unknowingly approached a door. Dumbledore opened it with a flourish, revealing the first of the levels guarding the Philosopher's Stone.
"...So, this is Hagrid's little cutie?" Dracula asked, looking up at the monstrous creature that loomed before him, its size almost overwhelming.
"Indeed," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Hagrid named it Fluffy."
Before them sat a beast that seemed to fill the entire room. It had three heads, each with wild, glowing eyes that seemed to reflect an insatiable hunger. The creature sniffed the air, twitching its noses as saliva dripped from its yellow fangs, pooling on the stone floor beneath it.
Fluffy, upon spotting Dracula and Dumbledore, leapt to its feet, its three heads snarling in unison.
"Nooooooooooo!"
Dumbledore and Dracula, unfazed by the threat, continued their casual conversation, as if this was a mere inconvenience.
"You know, Professor Dracula," Dumbledore said with a sly grin, "there's something fascinating about the three-headed dog. This breed, when it hears music, falls right to sleep. I think you should try singing to it."
Dracula shot him an amused glance. "Then why don't you sing?"
Dumbledore hesitated, then chuckled, though there was an underlying helplessness in his expression. "Ah, you must understand... I'm a bit too old for such things..."
Dracula's smirk deepened. The prospect of hearing the headmaster, who was far older than he appeared, sing was far too amusing to resist.
But before Dumbledore could change the subject, Fluffy, growing tired of being ignored, lunged forward with a furious roar.
"Ouch woof woof!!"
Dracula's gaze hardened, and his burgundy eyes locked onto the three-headed beast. A ripple of energy coursed through him as the innate power of a superior dark creature surged to the surface.
Fluffy froze, its growls dying in its throat. Fear, ancient and primal, rippled through the dog's bloodline as it dropped to its knees, whimpering under the weight of Dracula's piercing stare.
"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu," Fluffy groaned, its three heads trembling in fear.
Dracula took a few deliberate steps forward, raising a hand to gently rub Fluffy's massive head. "Interesting," he mused. "Soft, but a bit dirty."
He turned to Dumbledore, his expression almost teasing. "Would you like to try it, Dumbledore?" His tone was light, but the challenge in his eyes was unmistakable.
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