Chapter 3 Lifting the boards of his own coffin
21 Montmorency Street, in a medieval-style room with a strong sense of the bizarre, Dracula leaned contentedly by the window, gently swirling the goblet of wine in his hand.
"So, a lot of interesting things have happened while I was asleep for a century?" He took a sip of the crimson liquid, contemplating.
"Global wizarding wars, the love-hate entanglement of two genius wizards, an intriguing magical creature expert and his Muggle friend, fearsome mysterious figures... Damn! How many fascinating things have I missed during my hundred-year slumber?"
He then turned to the old man before him and asked with irritation:
"Old fool, why didn't you wake me up?"
Before Dracula stood a white-haired, wrinkled old man, who looked at Dracula with a helpless expression.
"You never told me where your coffin was. How was I supposed to wake you up?" he replied.
Dracula glanced disdainfully at the large crystal ball on the workbench by the window.
"After knowing you for centuries, I still don't know you? It seems you were simply afraid I'd join forces with that Grindelwald fellow!" He emptied the remaining wine from his goblet, then added, "Otherwise, your divination skills must be nothing but a show, right?"
At this moment, another white-haired old woman approached, refilling Dracula's goblet with more blood-red wine. She then smiled warmly and said:
"It's been a hundred years, and while it's understandable if you don't feel emotional, why start arguing as soon as you meet?"
"Perinal, just in time for you to mediate," Dracula thanked her and, picking up the goblet, continued with dissatisfaction, "Do you think old Nic deliberately kept me from all these fascinating things?"
The old woman, Perinal Lemay, simply smiled and did not offer an opinion.
"Alright, alright, I knew you'd complain, so I found you another interesting opportunity," Nic Lemay said with a sheepish smile, seemingly aware of his shortcomings.
Dracula's goblet, raised to his lips, paused in mid-air as he turned to look at him.
"There's been a phenomenon at Hogwarts in recent years that I think you'd find intriguing," Nic said. "It is said that the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has been cursed by a mysterious figure. For fifty years, no professor has managed to stay in the position for even a year without some form of disaster."
Nic looked at Dracula's expression with a hint of teasing. "So, what do you think? Will the legendary Count Dracula be afraid of such a curse?"
A thoughtful smile slowly appeared on Dracula's lips.
"Interesting."
With a clink, Dracula set the goblet of crimson liquid on the windowsill.
He then pushed open the window and stepped onto the window frame.
"Nic, Perinal, see you next time!" Dracula turned to the still-stunned Lemay couple and said with a cheerful smile.
The next moment, he leapt from Nic's window.
Amidst a scattering of bat-like shadows, Dracula's figure vanished into the night sky, leaving only the blood-red liquid in the goblet swaying on the windowsill.
The moon reflected in the red liquid looked particularly vivid…
The Lemay couple stood in stunned silence, looking at each other.
"Does he not even stay for a meal?" Perinal asked, bewildered.
"Don't you know Dracula by now?" Nic shook his head slightly and sighed. "He's always like this. If he finds something interesting, he'll always go to experience it no matter what."
"After all, a thousand years is just too long, too dull..."
…
In the quiet night, a majestic castle stood in the darkness.
The castle's spires pierced the sky, with countless windows glowing in harmony with the starlight. A hint of dawn's red hue added a touch of purplish-red to the castle's edge, enhancing its mysterious and weighty appearance.
In the candlelit office of Hogwarts' headmaster, Dracula appeared quietly by the window, examining the layout of the room.
The previously lazy phoenix was startled by his presence, fluttering its wings and perching on the shoulder of an elderly man at the desk.
The old man, tall and thin, wore a purple wizard's robe. His silver-white hair and beard were long enough to tuck into his belt.
Seeing the uninvited guest, he seemed unsurprised, gently soothing the anxious phoenix Fawkes before looking at Dracula and smiling as he gestured towards several cups on the desk.
"Good morning, Count Dracula. Nic often speaks of you," he said warmly, "Tea, juice, or coffee?"
Dracula frowned at the beverages before him and gently shook his head.
"No need," he said, pulling out the chair in front of the desk and sitting down. "You must be the current headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore nodded with a smile.
At the same time, he continued rummaging through the drawers of his desk and produced a blood-red lollipop.
"I almost forgot. Vampires probably don't have much use for ordinary drinks," he said, handing the lollipop to Dracula with a cheerful tone. "You might like this! A blood-flavored lollipop from the Honeydukes Duke's Sweet Gift Pack."
Dracula looked at the lollipop with a twitch of his lips.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, I'm here to discuss something very important. Please take this seriously." He decisively refused the blood-flavored lollipop and took out a piece of parchment covered in complex runes from his pocket.
"This is the deed to Hogwarts. The lease set by Salazar Slytherin was for a thousand years, starting from 991 AD, and this year is 1991, exactly a thousand years."
"Headmaster, the lease on Hogwarts is up!" Dracula's lips curled slightly, "You wouldn't want the students to be displaced, would you?"
Dumbledore's face momentarily showed a flash of surprise, quickly replaced by his usual calm demeanor.
He adjusted his glasses and took the parchment, scrutinizing it carefully.
From Dumbledore's perspective, he could see the magical fluctuations matching those of the castle and the magical marks left by the four founders, leaving no room for forgery.
Considering Dracula's era of birth and his rumored connections to Slytherin, Dumbledore had to acknowledge the authenticity of the deed.
"Count Dracula, I've heard you were good friends with the four founders," he said, his tone softening as he asked, "Hogwarts was their labor of love. Surely you wouldn't just reclaim it like that?"
"That depends on your performance." Dracula leaned back in the chair with a relaxed smile. "If you can find me some interesting things, perhaps I'll be inclined to extend the deadline a bit."
"That should be easy," Dumbledore sighed in relief and took out a pre-prepared employment letter from the side of the desk. "We have a position for a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. This position changes every year due to various accidents. I'm sure Count Dracula would find it somewhat interesting."
Dumbledore thoughtfully included a statistical chart of incidents involving Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, pushing it across the desk towards Dracula.
Dracula picked up the long list and read aloud with interest:
"Defense Against the Dark Arts professor accident statistics—killed by a wild boar, blown up by their own spell during class, starved to death after getting lost in the castle, tripped over their own feet and fell to their death..."
"Hehe… very few even manage to leave this position alive." Dracula laughed with interest, revealing his sharp fangs.
"Cough."
Seeing Dracula's amusement, Dumbledore cleared his throat and pointed to a later entry on the list.
Dracula shifted his gaze and immediately subdued his smile.
The parchment read—
"Died laughing after listening to a student's joke for half an hour."
"…"
He tossed the accident statistics aside and picked up the employment letter, signing it with a flourish.
"Alright, aside from their causes of death, is there anything else I need to know about being a professor?" Dracula asked Dumbledore.
"Since you've agreed to take the position, we'll be colleagues," Dumbledore eagerly stood up, shaking Dracula's hand warmly. "Everything you need to prepare is written in the employment letter. As for the teaching content, you'll need to decide that yourself."
"I assume the legendary Count Dracula must be quite skilled in 'Defense' against the Dark Arts, right?"
Dumbledore emphasized the word "Defense," apparently making a point that the course was about defending against dark magic, not teaching it.
"Rest assured, Headmaster," Dracula waved his hand casually and strolled towards the window of the office.
He had just taken a few steps when he turned back.
He grabbed the blood-flavored lollipop from Dumbledore's hand, then returned to the window and leaped out…
Dumbledore looked at the open window and shrugged.
He then glanced at the employment letter on the desk and chuckled to himself.
"Nic, thanks to you, Hogwarts has managed to hire a reasonably reliable Defense Against the Dark Arts professor!"
Dumbledore cheerfully took out a phoenix mirror that resembled Dracula's bronze mirror and spoke to it.
As for the resume in the corner of the desk bearing the name Quirinus Quirrell, it was subconsciously ignored by him.
…
In London, Diagon Alley.
Dracula, with a blood-flavored lollipop in his mouth and a list of items to prepare from the employment letter in hand, looked around in boredom.
"Having to prepare a wand to be a professor is such a hassle."
Despite his complaints, Dracula headed towards Ollivanders Wand Shop in the depths of Diagon Alley, eager to experience the role of a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
The development of