CH: 14 Less Chaos

"That's good enough, Professor Dracula," Dumbledore politely declined Dracula's offer to pet the dog's head, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand. "Are you still interested in establishing protective measures for the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Indeed," Dracula nodded, appearing to have discovered a new source of amusement.

"When you get a chance, give Fluffy a bath. Its messy fur makes petting it less enjoyable," Dumbledore advised, patting the Cerberus's head before instructing, "Fluffy, it's time for a bath." The creature's hefty form shifted, blocking the door.

Upon entering the room, Dracula noticed Fluffy positioned atop a trap door, evidently guarding its contents.

Compliantly, Fluffy shifted aside, allowing Dracula and Dumbledore to approach the trap door.

With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore effortlessly raised the trap door, unveiling a dark, cavernous space below. Dracula's superior night vision enabled him to discern the area clearly.

"We put Devil's Snare as a precaution. Professor Sprout was worried about potential thieves and wanted to stop them," Dracula noted, casting a mischievous glance at Dumbledore. "I gotta say, I haven't quite figured out the Arresto Momentum charm. So, not many wizards probably come here. Maybe this part is for younger students?"

Dumbledore maintained a serene expression, gracefully descending through the trap door to the ground below.

Dracula followed suit, landing on the devil's snare with a measure of grace before sinking into its soft embrace.

"The security here is really tight, making sure no one sneaks in." Dracula mused while reclining on the devil's snare, immobilized by the potent dark energy.

Upon rising, Dracula, accompanied by Dumbledore, traversed the stone corridor beyond the Devil's Snare, leading to a brightly illuminated chamber.

Above them, a high vaulted ceiling housed a myriad of flying keys, shimmering like precious gems. Across the room stood a sturdy wooden door.

"Leaving the keys and even broomsticks—thoughtful," Dracula observed, eyeing the fluttering keys and broomsticks in the corner. "Staying alert to keep intruders out. The security measures have turned into a game to break through levels, a pretty smart move."

After enduring Dracula's eccentric observations, Dumbledore finally succumbed to a smile, unable to contain his amusement.

"Professor Dracula, I should have known I couldn't deceive you," Dumbledore chuckled. "To be honest, these obstacles aren't meant to stop actual intruders. They're just challenges to test and train students."

"Whom are we testing? Whom are we training?" Dracula inquired with a chuckle. "If I'm right, you're getting Harry Potter, the famous Boy Who Lived, ready, right?"

"Indeed, you have once again seen through my intentions, Professor Dracula," Dumbledore sighed softly. "I aim to prepare Harry for the pivotal role he must play in ultimately defeating Voldemort."

"In that case, I'm asking you to make the next levels a bit easier. We shouldn't shake Harry's confidence with tasks that are too hard before he takes on Voldemort." he requested.

Dracula nodded nonchalantly, intrigued by the prospect of unraveling the savior's secrets.

How could a child who was merely one year old at the time defeat the most formidable dark wizard in the world? Dracula pondered this question with great curiosity.

Nonchalantly, the two unlocked the sturdy wooden door, passing a substantial chess board before entering a room still permeated with a faint stench of decay.

"Before, there was a troll here, but Quirrell moved it yesterday." Dumbledore explained. "Hence, the lingering odor. I would appreciate it if Professor Dracula could arrange an obstacle here."

Dracula surveyed the vacant room.

"Before we move on to the challenges, I wanna ask something. What difficulty level would be good for a young wizard like Harry Potter to handle easily?" he posed bluntly. "After these recent encounters, I've grown quite acquainted with the curriculum. The spellcasting proficiency at Hogwarts leaves much to be desired. The spellcasting aptitude of first-year students is likely close to nonexistent, correct?"

Dumbledore, masking his disappointment with a smile, assured Dracula, "Under Professor Dracula's guidance, the young wizards are sure to make significant progress."

Disinterested in orchestrating a level-breaking game for children's amusement, Dracula dismissed the idea.

"Let Quirrell handle the troll; he can give it a bath and return it," Dracula remarked lazily before proceeding to the next door.

Dumbledore, shrugging, followed Dracula's lead.

The subsequent room contained a solitary table adorned with seven potion bottles of varying shapes.

As they crossed the threshold, flames erupted behind them, sealing the doorway with an unusual black flame. Simultaneously, black flames emerged from the front door, ensnaring the duo in the center.

Observing a parchment next to the potion bottles, Dracula's lips curled slightly.

The parchment bore a logical question rather than a potion-related questions, simplifying the selection of the correct potion for the intruder.

Unfazed by the moderately intense flames, Dracula and Dumbledore pushed through the black flames, advancing to the final level.

The final room comprised a grand mirror, concealing the Philosopher's Stone as safeguarded by Dumbledore.

Engraved atop the ancient mirror was the inscription: "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi," decipherable when read in reverse to unveil its true message: "What I show is not your face, but your desire."

Contemplating the mirror, Dracula paused, his expression reflecting a burgeoning sense of intrigue.

"The Mirror of Erised reflects individuals' deepest desires—often goals or ambitions. However, as each person is unique, the Mirror manifests differently to each viewer," Dumbledore explained with a smile.

"And what did you see, Professor Dracula?" he inquired.

Dracula fell silent for a moment before emitting a chuckle.

"I envisioned boundless amusement, soaring towards me," Dracula murmured softly, his gaze shifting.

The reflection he witnessed in the Mirror of Erised did not depict himself or any tangible entity. Instead, he beheld a vision of warfare and turmoil enveloping the realm.

Was this truly his desire? To revel in chaos, to incite discord...

Perhaps the prospect of a world in disarray was not as appealing as he initially believed.