Chapter 2 — Reunion
At No. 21 Rue Montmorency, inside a medieval-style room filled with a strong, strange aura, Dracula lounged comfortably by the window, leaning against the frame while slowly swirling the goblet in his hand.
"So you're saying that many interesting things happened during the hundred years I was asleep?" he mused, taking a sip of the crimson liquid in his glass.
"A global wizarding war, the love-hate entanglement between two genius wizards, an amusing magical creature expert and his Muggle friend, and that infamous Dark Lord who strikes fear into everyone… Damn it! Just how many interesting things did I miss during my hundred years of slumber?"
Then he turned to the old man sitting across from him and asked irritably,
"Old man, why didn't you wake me up?"
Sitting opposite Dracula was an elderly man with completely white hair and a deeply wrinkled face. At the moment, he was looking helplessly at the vampire leaning against the window.
"You never told me where you placed your coffin. Where was I supposed to find you to wake you up?" he replied.
Dracula glanced silently at the large crystal ball sitting on the workbench by the window and couldn't help but curl his lips in disdain.
"We've known each other for hundreds of years—do you think I don't know you? You were obviously afraid I'd join forces with that fellow Grindelwald!" he retorted, draining the remaining wine from his goblet in one gulp. "Otherwise, what's the point of your divination abilities?"
At that moment, another elderly woman with white hair approached and refilled Dracula's goblet with the deep red liquid. She then said with a gentle smile,
"It's been a hundred years since you last met. Even if neither of you burst into tears from joy, why start arguing the moment you see each other?"
"Perenelle, you came at the right time—judge this fairly," Dracula said with a word of thanks as he lifted his glass again, complaining. "Don't you think Nicolas deliberately left me asleep so I'd miss all these interesting events?"
The elderly woman, Perenelle Flamel, merely smiled without giving any judgment.
"Alright, alright. I knew you'd complain sooner or later, so I prepared another interesting place for you," Nicolas Flamel said with a sheepish grin, seemingly aware that he was somewhat at fault.
Dracula paused mid-sip, the goblet frozen in the air as he turned his head to look at him.
"In recent years, something unusual has been happening at Hogwarts that I think you'll find interesting," Nicolas said. "It's said that the subject Defense Against the Dark Arts has been cursed by the Dark Lord. For the past fifty years, not a single professor assigned to that position has managed to remain there safely for a full year."
Nicolas watched Dracula's expression and teased,
"So, what do you think? Would the legendary Count Dracula be afraid of such a curse?"
A faint, intriguing smile slowly spread across Dracula's lips.
"Interesting."
With a clang, the goblet filled with crimson wine was set down firmly on the windowsill.
Then he pushed open the nearby window and stepped up onto the window frame.
"Nicolas, Perenelle—until we meet again!" Dracula turned back toward the couple, who had not yet reacted, and flashed them a cheerful smile.
The next moment, he leapt from Nicolas's window.
With the fluttering shadows of countless bats dispersing into the air, Dracula's figure vanished into the night sky, leaving only the goblet on the windowsill, its red wine swaying gently within.
Reflected on the surface of the wine, the full moon appeared dyed in a deep crimson hue, strikingly vivid…
The Flamel couple stood there in stunned silence, exchanging glances.
"He didn't even stay for dinner?" Perenelle asked with a helpless laugh.
"Don't you know Dracula by now?" Nicolas shook his head slightly and sighed. "Whenever he discovers something interesting, he will go see it for himself no matter what."
"After all, a thousand years is simply too long… and far too dull."
…
In the quiet night, a towering castle stood silently beneath the darkness.
The castle's towers rose sharply into the sky, their spires standing in clusters. The lights shining from countless windows blended with the starlight above. In the distance, the first hint of dawn slowly climbed over the horizon, casting a faint purplish-red glow along the edges of the castle and adding an even deeper sense of mystery and solemn grandeur.
Inside the candlelit Hogwarts Headmaster's Office, Dracula—dressed in black-and-crimson robes—quietly appeared by the window, calmly examining the layout of the room.
The phoenix that had been lazily resting suddenly sensed his presence and gave a startled flutter of its wings. It quickly flew over and landed cautiously on the shoulder of the white-haired old man seated behind the desk.
The old man was tall and slender, dressed in a purple wizard's robe. His silver hair and beard were so long that they could easily be tucked into the belt of his robes.
Seeing the unexpected visitor appear, he did not seem surprised in the slightest. Instead, he gently stroked the phoenix Fawkes, calming its nervousness.
Then he turned to Dracula and smiled, gesturing toward several cups placed on the desk.
"Good morning, Sir Dracula. Nicolas often speaks of you," he said in the tone of someone welcoming a friend. "Tea, juice, or coffee?"
Dracula frowned slightly as he looked at the drinks before him and shook his head.
"That won't be necessary." He pulled out a chair in front of the desk and sat down before addressing the old man. "You must be the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore smiled and nodded.
At the same time, his hands continued rummaging through one of the desk drawers. After a moment, he pulled out a bright red lollipop.
"I nearly forgot—vampires probably aren't very fond of ordinary beverages." As he spoke, he extended the lollipop toward Dracula with a cheerful smile. "You might like this, It came as a bonus in a Honeydukes sweets gift box—a blood-flavored lollipop."
Dracula stared at the lollipop in Dumbledore's hand, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, I came here to discuss something very important with you. I would appreciate it if you could take this more seriously."
He decisively declined the crimson candy and, with a solemn expression, pulled a piece of parchment covered in complex runes from his pocket.
"This is the land deed for Hogwarts. Back then, Slytherin set the lease for Hogwarts at one thousand years, beginning in the year 991. And now it is 1991—exactly one thousand years later."
"Headmaster," Dracula said, the corners of his lips lifting slightly, "the lease on Hogwarts has expired."
"You wouldn't want the students of Hogwarts to end up homeless, would you?"
For a brief moment, surprise appeared on Dumbledore's face, replacing his earlier composure.
He adjusted his glasses and took the parchment, examining it carefully.
From Dumbledore's perspective, he could clearly sense that the magical fluctuations on the parchment shared the same origin as the castle itself. It also bore the magical signatures left behind by the four founders. There was absolutely no possibility that it was a forgery.
Considering the era in which Dracula had been born, along with the legendary connection between him and Salazar Slytherin, Dumbledore had no choice but to acknowledge the authenticity of the document.
"Sir Dracula, I have heard that you were very close friends with the four founders," he said, his tone softening slightly as he chose his words carefully. "Hogwarts was their life's work. Surely you wouldn't simply reclaim it so easily?"
"That depends on your performance."
Dracula leaned back comfortably in his chair and chuckled lightly.
"If you can provide me with something interesting to do, perhaps—if I'm in a good mood—I might consider extending the deadline a little."
"That, at least, is easy enough."
Dumbledore let out a quiet sigh of relief and took out a prepared letter of appointment from the side of his desk.
"We happen to have an opening for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The professor in that position tends to change every year due to various… accidents. I imagine that might be something that interests you, Sir Dracula."