The Weasley twins froze when they saw who was approaching.
"Professor McGonagall, what a pleasant surprise!" they said with forced smiles.
As they spoke, the two of them subtly moved, with Fred quickly grabbing the coins and George swiftly snatching the gambling board away.
"I came to talk to Wood, but I didn't expect to find you two cheating people out of their galleons!" Professor McGonagall said, her lips forming a thin line. "I shortened your detention so you could help Wood with the Quidditch team, but it looks like you need more time locked up to learn your lesson!"
"And you, Wood!" she turned to the Quidditch captain. "Instead of training Potter's skills, you're wasting time with these two baboons!"
Wood's posture immediately sagged, and in a tiny voice, he muttered, "I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall. It won't happen again."
As he spoke, he sneakily slapped the twins on the back, whispering, "You've really made my life difficult!"
The twins, however, were too distracted by McGonagall's previous words to notice.
"Potter? Harry Potter is joining our Quidditch team?" they exclaimed, eyes wide.
Wood rushed over, clamping his hand over their mouths, and whispered urgently, "Keep it down! Potter is our secret weapon—don't let anyone else find out!"
The twins nodded quickly, both eager to keep the secret safe.
Once Wood removed his hand, they patted their chests and turned to McGonagall.
"Professor McGonagall, we promise we'll never do it again!" Fred vowed. "But you know, the Quidditch team really needs us—we're the best beaters!"
"Exactly," George chimed in. "Our Transylvanian fake-out move is so smooth, even Slytherin won't know what hit them—no foul calls!"
Professor McGonagall looked at them with a mixture of disbelief and exasperation, sighed, and finally nodded. "Just don't make me regret this."
The twins quickly agreed, looking satisfied with their escape.
----
After promising Professor McGonagall, the Weasley twins eagerly rushed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
"You want to bet with me?" Dracula asked with amusement, lounging on the plush sofa. "From what I know, your dean isn't too fond of such activities. Something could go wrong."
"It's no big deal!" George waved it off. "As long as we keep it under wraps, Professor McGonagall won't find out about our little wager."
Fred, grinning, added, "Don't worry. As long as you don't tell us and we don't tell you, who will ever know?"
"Professor, you won't lose anything," George continued. "We're betting on Gryffindor's Quidditch team winning. If we win, you give us twenty galleons, which cancels out the previous payment—no harm done! And if we lose, you're basically making twenty galleons just by sitting there!"
"Exactly," Fred chimed in. "Plus, even if you lose, it'll really motivate the students to win. We heard from our idiot brother Ron that you're Harry's hero. Imagine how much more motivated Harry will be if he knows you're backing the team!"
"Yeah, spending a little money for student motivation? Totally worth it!"
Dracula listened, amused by the twins' lively pitch.
"Alright, I'll take your bet," he chuckled. "Even if I'm paying twenty galleons for a little entertainment, it's hardly a loss."
Fred and George grinned ear to ear.
"Professor, you're our hero!" Fred said.
"And if you ever need another performance, just give us a call!" George added.
Dracula waved them off, telling them to head back to their dorms.
As the twins walked out, they exaggeratedly bowed at the door.
Fred, just about to close the door, paused and stuck his face through the crack.
"Professor, you have to come to our Quidditch match!"
Seeing Dracula nod, Fred happily shut the door behind him, and the office finally returned to its quiet state.
Dracula, still lounging on the sofa, couldn't stop smiling.
"Does being around young people make you feel more alive?" Nico Flamel's face appeared in the bronze mirror, etched with a phoenix relief, smiling at him.
Dracula nodded thoughtfully and sighed.
"Yeah... it's good to feel young again."
---
After class that afternoon, Dracula left the task of writing lesson plans and correcting homework to Quirrell, then covered his mouth and nose in disgust as he left Quirrell's humble office.
In stark contrast to Professor Dracula, who was adored by many and hailed as a god by students, Quirrell, the assistant Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, had a much less enviable position.
Among the students, one of the most popular opinions about Quirrell was that, as Harry put it, men with weak kidneys often rely on perfume to boost their confidence. This seemed to be a fitting explanation for Quirrell's frequent use of the scent.
As an adult male wizard, Quirrell's eyes constantly twitched and his face was always pale. However, there was a distinct difference between his pallor and Dracula's. Quirrell's complexion seemed sickly, whereas Dracula's pale skin had an almost enchanting allure.
Quirrell's nervousness only added to his unfortunate image—he often shook, stammered in conversation, and wore a peculiar purple turban. In Britain by the late 20th century, the color purple had its own cultural implications... and they weren't exactly flattering.
These odd traits had earned Quirrell the reputation as a man suffering from kidney deficiency in the eyes of most students. While some felt sympathy for him, others found him pitiable and, at the same time, a source of amusement. Most students tried to avoid him, but couldn't help but find his antics laughable.
As Dracula left, the entire Hogwarts student body seemed to mock him in a respectful, albeit amused, manner.
Once Dracula was out of sight, Quirrell cautiously peered outside the door. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he placed several defensive spells on the door and then slowly sat down between two mirrors. With trembling hands, he removed his purple turban.
The light from the mirrors illuminated Quirrell's face as he turned to the reflection of the sinister face behind him. His voice shook as he spoke to Voldemort.
"Master... Master, I have become the laughingstock of Hogwarts now. No one will notice our actions anymore, right?"
Quirrell stammered, his eyes flickering toward the terrifying face behind his head.
---
Phoenix Relief : sculpture of a phoenix that is carved into a surface. The image is raised or slightly raised from the background, showing the bird in a detailed form.
Purple's bad image:
In the late 20th century in Britain, the color purple became associated with a negative image due to the infamous figure Purple Aki (Akinwale Arobieke). He was known for harassing young men and making them uncomfortable, often in public spaces. His nickname, "Purple Aki," referred to his skin's purple tint, and over time, the color purple became linked to the discomfort and fear surrounding his actions. This association gave the color a less flattering reputation during that period.
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