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At number 21 Montmorency Street West, in a room steeped in mediaeval charm and an air of peculiar mystery, Dracula lounged comfortably by the window, quietly swirling a goblet in his hand.
"So, many fascinating things happened during the century I was asleep?" He took a thoughtful sip of the crimson liquid, his gaze distant.
"The Global Wizarding War, the tangled rivalry of two brilliant wizards, an eccentric Magizoologist and his Muggle companions, a terrifying Dark Lord... How many remarkable events did I miss while I slept away a hundred years?"
He turned to the old man across from him, his mood shifting to mild annoyance.
'Old man, why did you not wake me up?'
The elderly wizard, his hair completely white and his face deeply lined, looked at Dracula with helpless resignation.
'You never told me where your coffin was. How was I supposed to wake you?' he replied.
Dracula cast a silent glance at the large crystal ball resting on the workbench by the window and could not help but curl his lips in amusement.
'I have known you for centuries. Do you think I do not see through you? I believe you were simply afraid I would join forces with Grindelwald.' He finished the last of his wine and retorted, 'Otherwise, is your vaunted divination merely for show?'
At that moment, another elderly figure entered the room. With a gentle smile, the white-haired woman topped up Dracula's goblet with more of the blood-red liquid.
"It has been a hundred years since we last met. If we are not moved to tears, must we really quarrel the moment we see each other again?
"Perenelle, I am glad you are here to judge," Dracula said gratefully. He picked up his glass and grumbled, "Tell me honestly, is Nicolas doing this on purpose, letting me miss all the excitement?"
Perenelle Flamel only smiled, offering no opinion.
'Alright, alright, I knew you would complain, so I have found you another interesting place to visit.' Nicolas Flamel admitted with a sheepish grin.
Dracula's raised glass paused in mid-air, and he turned to him with interest.
"There is a phenomenon at Hogwarts in recent years that I think will intrigue you," Nicolas began. "It is said that the Defence Against the Dark Arts post has been cursed by the Dark Lord. For fifty years, no professor has lasted a full year in that position."
Nicolas watched Dracula with a sly, playful glint in his eye. "Well then, what do you think? Surely the infamous Count Dracula isn't frightened off by a little curse?"
A slow, meaningful smile appeared at the corner of Dracula's mouth.
'How interesting.'
With a sharp clatter, Dracula set his goblet down on the windowsill.
He pushed open the window next to him and stepped up onto the ledge.
'Nicolas, Perenelle, I shall see you next time!' Dracula called, flashing the Flamels a cheerful smile before they could react.
In the next instant, he leapt from the window. His figure, accompanied by a flurry of bat shadows, vanished into the night sky, leaving only the trembling blood-red wine in the glass upon the window lattice.
The bright moon reflected in the wine, stained with its crimson hue, shone especially bright.
The Flamels stood in stunned silence, exchanging glances.
'Is he not even staying for a meal?' Perenelle wondered, half laughing, half exasperated.
'You know what Dracula is like.' Nicolas shook his head with a sigh. 'He has always been this way. If something piques his interest, he will chase after it, no matter what.'
'After all, a thousand years is a long time to be bored...'
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In the quiet of the night, a majestic castle stood tall in the darkness.
Spire after spire reached for the sky, and the lights from countless windows mingled with the starlight above. In the distance, the first blush of dawn added a touch of purple to the castle's edge, deepening its air of mystery and grandeur.
Within the brightly lit headmaster's office at Hogwarts, Dracula, clad in black and red robes, appeared silently by the window, his eyes sweeping over the room.
The phoenix, usually languid, was startled by his presence and flapped its wings, landing warily on the shoulder of the white-haired old man seated at the desk.
The old man was tall and thin, dressed in a purple wizard's robe. His silver-white hair and beard were so long they could be tucked into his belt.
He did not seem surprised by the unexpected guest. Instead, he gently stroked the feathers of the phoenix, Fawkes, soothing the magical bird's nerves.
He then turned to Dracula with a welcoming smile and gestured to the cups on the table.
'Good morning, Sir Dracula. Nicolas often speaks of you,' he said, as if greeting an old friend. 'Would you care for tea, juice, or coffee?'
Dracula frowned at the drinks before him and shook his head gently.
'No need.' He drew out the chair in front of the desk and sat down. 'You are the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore?'
Dumbledore smiled and nodded.
As he did so, he rummaged in his desk drawer and produced a blood-red lollipop.
'I nearly forgot, vampires probably do not care for ordinary drinks.' He handed the lollipop to Dracula with a cheerful air. 'Try this. It is a bloody-flavoured lollipop from the Honeydukes Sweetshop gift pack. You might enjoy it.'
Dracula eyed the lollipop Dumbledore offered, the corner of his mouth twitching in bemusement.
'Headmaster Dumbledore, I am here to discuss something of great importance. I would appreciate it if you could be serious.' He declined the lollipop and instead produced a parchment filled with intricate runes from his pocket, his expression solemn.
'This is the land deed for Hogwarts. The lease Slytherin established was for a thousand years, beginning in 991 AD. This year is 1991, exactly a thousand years.'
"A thousand years have passed, Headmaster, and the lease for Hogwarts has expired." Dracula said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You wouldn't want to see Hogwarts closed and your students left without a school, would you?"
A flicker of astonishment crossed Dumbledore's face, momentarily breaking his calm.
He adjusted his glasses and took the parchment, examining it with great care.
From Dumbledore's perspective, he could sense the magical resonance of the parchment, matching that of the castle itself, along with the magical signatures of the four founders. There was no possibility of forgery.
Given Dracula's birth year and his legendary ties to Slytherin, Dumbledore could not deny the authenticity of the deed.
'Sir Dracula, I have heard you were close friends with the four founders.' He relaxed his expression and asked cautiously, 'Hogwarts was their life's work. Surely you would not simply take it back?'
'That depends on your conduct.' Dracula leaned back in his chair, a chuckle escaping him. 'If you can find something interesting for me to do, perhaps I shall be in a generous mood and extend the deadline.'
"That is easily done." Dumbledore let out a quiet sigh of relief and produced a letter of employment he had prepared in advance. "We happen to have a vacancy for Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. The position has proven rather difficult to keep filled, as a series of unfortunate events seem to befall those who accept it. I imagine, Sir Dracula, that such a challenge might appeal to someone of your… unique experience."
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