In the gloomy reception hall of Dracula Castle, Serena reclined on a tall, Gothic-style chair, her expression one of mild dissatisfaction. "So you just approved Tesla's holiday that easily?"
"Yes. Don't you find his story moving?" Dracula replied, sitting casually on the long table in the center of the hall. He glanced at Serena on her throne-like seat. "Besides, I seem to recall that chair is mine, isn't it? How did you end up commandeering it?"
"That's what you get for being a hands-off boss," Serena said, rolling her eyes. "If you agree to come back and manage the castle, I'll give you your chair back immediately."
"Then forget it. The chair is yours," Dracula said, decisively abandoning his claim and shaking his head. "Actually, sitting on the table is quite comfortable. Though, I prefer the windowsill. The view is much better."
His form vanished from the table in an instant, reappearing a moment later on the high, wide windowsill. He sat on the ledge, leaning back against the darkly tinted glass that blocked the sun, and produced a glass of red wine, swirling it gently.
"What happened to that wizard who erased Tesla's friend's memory and ended up turning into a fool?" Serena asked with a sigh, turning her head to look at him. "His experience on the banks of the Danube sounded rather pitiful."
"Mm, but you could say it was a punishment he deserved," Dracula said, shaking his head. "I didn't do anything to Lockhart. I thought about it and decided to give him to Dumbledore. As for troublesome things like exposing his crimes, it's best to leave that to a professional. Whether he spends the rest of his life in Azkaban or St. Mungo's has nothing to do with me."
Just then, a sharp knock echoed on the reception hall door.
"Come in."
Serena immediately adjusted her posture, sitting up straight and proper. At the same time, she shot a glare back at Dracula, hoping he would adopt the bearing of a vampire lord. However, given that Serena's face still looked somewhat youthful even after more than a hundred years, her so-called solemn posture at most made her look a bit more serious, lacking any real sense of stern authority.
Dracula, for his part, had no intention of imitating her. Having managed the castle for centuries, he was respected for two reasons: his undeniable power and the sanctuary he provided. He had no need for a dignified demeanor. Instead, he shifted into an even more comfortable position, slumping lazily on the windowsill as he sipped his wine.
Two high-ranking vampires entered, holding a tall, tattered-looking man between them. They pushed him before Serena's Gothic chair.
"A werewolf?" Dracula glanced at the man, his interest piqued when he saw the claw marks covering his clothes and the unusual cast of his features. He was a pale-faced, middle-aged man with sharp, angular lines to his face. His light brown hair was streaked with a good deal of white, making him appear older than his years, and his clothes were worn and heavily patched. It was clear this werewolf was not one of Fenrir's inner circle and lived a meager existence.
"You are correct, Lord Dracula!" one of the vampires said, stepping forward. He knelt on one knee and spoke respectfully. "While patrolling below the castle, we found this werewolf surreptitiously scouting our walls and captured him. But strangely, he offered no resistance. Instead, he told us he was a member of the Order of the Phoenix and wished to see you."
"The Order of the Phoenix?" Dracula raised an eyebrow. "You mean Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix? The one he formed to fight Voldemort?"
"The very same, Count Dracula," the pale-faced werewolf nodded. "My name is Remus Lupin. Two months ago, Dumbledore became aware of Fenrir Greyback's unusual activities, so he had me infiltrate the pack to gather information. A few days ago, I learned that the Inferi Fenrir acquired were summoned by You-Know-Who to help him subdue the werewolf packs of Romania. In return, Fenrir agreed to attack Dracula Castle."
Dracula drained his goblet and jumped down from the windowsill.
"Well, your report is quite complete, just a little late," he said with a light laugh. "I have already learned of this from Greyback's memory. Voldemort knew these Inferi would pose no real threat to me; he just wanted to send some cannon fodder to annoy me. He probably didn't realize that these brainless things don't even count as a nuisance."
Lupin's expression was one of surprise.
"Didn't you know? The werewolf king is already our prisoner, currently locked in a large dog cage," Dracula said, raising a hand to signal the guards. "Let him go. He doesn't look like he's here to cause trouble."
"Ahem, don't move just yet!" Serena suddenly interjected with a few deliberately serious coughs. The guards froze, looking from Serena on their left to Dracula on their right, unsure whose order to follow. Serena, meanwhile, shot a glare at Dracula, as if to say that she was the castle's administrator now.
Dracula shook his head with a helpless laugh, took a step back, and made a "please" gesture. Only then did Serena nod with satisfaction.
"Alright, you can release him now!" she commanded.
The corners of the guards' mouths twitched, but they dutifully undid Lupin's restraints.
"Very well, you may leave," Serena said. "We will question this werewolf alone."
After the guards had gone, Lupin rubbed his sore shoulders. "Professor Dracula, Dumbledore entrusted me with a letter for you," he said, carefully taking a well-preserved envelope from his pocket. "But I must ensure that everyone present is trustworthy!"
"Hey, what do you mean by that, you werewolf!" Serena took offense, moving to snatch the envelope. Lupin, however, drew his wand and looked questioningly at Dracula.
"It's fine, let her see it," Dracula said, nodding wearily under Serena's fierce gaze. "What unspeakable thing could Dumbledore possibly have written?"
"Forget it, I don't care to look anyway," Serena said, wrinkling her nose as she sat back down. "Who knows what sort of weirdness is going on between you two? If I saw it, it would probably give me the creeps."
Dracula's expression darkened. He slapped Serena on the head. "What are you filling that young mind of yours with all day?"
"When you want me to manage the castle, you say I'm over a hundred and a capable young woman," Serena retorted, holding her head pitifully. "But when you want to lecture me, suddenly my mind is 'young.' I think you just bully me because I can't beat you in a fight!"
Dracula put a hand to his forehead. Feeling he couldn't win, he silently shifted his attention to the letter, pretending not to have heard her. The envelope was of high quality, seemingly made from the same parchment as Hogwarts acceptance letters, with the words, "For Professor Dracula's eyes only."
Inside, the note itself was shabby, as if torn from a student's cheat sheet. There was only a single sentence:
"Harry Potter may have accidentally become one of Voldemort's Horcruxes!"
Dracula's eyes widened, his mind racing. A living human as a Horcrux? Even Herpo the Foul wouldn't have dared such a thing. He had to admit, Voldemort certainly had nerve. If Dumbledore was right, did this mean that to kill Voldemort, one would have to kill Potter first? That seemed… inappropriate. Such an unscrupulous act would violate even Serena's code of conduct.
He decided to stop thinking about it. Such a headache was best left to Dumbledore. He was more inclined to simply beat up Voldemort every time he saw him.
Suddenly, sparks appeared around the edges of the note as it began to self-destruct. With a frown, Dracula summoned a ghastly white flame, forcibly suppressing the sparks without damaging the paper in the slightest. Then, out of pure spite, he burned the note to ash himself. His logic was simple: I can throw it away, but no one else is allowed to take it from me.
"What kind of secret couldn't see the light of day that it had to be burned immediately?" Serena asked suspiciously. "Don't tell me there really is something shady going on between you two?"
Dracula slapped Serena on the head again. "Go and write your ordinances and codes of conduct. Stop picking up bad habits here."
"Oh," Serena pouted, took out her little notebook, and secretly added another line at the very end—
"Nothing Dracula says can be trusted!"
Dracula paid her no mind, turning his attention to Lupin. "Remus Lupin, is it? Since you're here, explain from a werewolf's perspective why Greyback and the others would join Voldemort."
"That's not difficult to answer," Lupin said with a sigh. "The situation for werewolves has always been extremely difficult. Because of our lack of control and our infectious nature, most wizards shun us. When I revealed my identity, I couldn't even find the most menial of jobs. You can tell just from my attire, can't you?" He gestured to his clothes with a self-deprecating smile.
"Fenrir is the worst of us," he continued. "He completely abandoned his humanity long ago, driven by what he calls animalistic pleasure. He enjoys attacking people, especially children. After turning other wizards, he drags them into the same predicament—looked down upon, struggling to survive. Most of these newly turned werewolves join his pack, preying on others as a way to take revenge on society. When they learned of Voldemort's desire to rule, they naturally identified with such a brutal regime. After all," he finished, his eyes filled with envy, "werewolves don't have a Dracula Castle to offer them sanctuary."
Dracula silently swirled his empty goblet.
"He's right," Serena spoke up suddenly. "Although we are both classified as 'people,' we vampires have also faced unfair treatment. Decades ago, very few could live safely in wizarding society. It was this castle that gave us a place to live and that regulated the behavior of our kind, and the later emergence of celebrity singers like Lorcan d'Eath that helped make our image slightly more friendly. So I believe my actions in taking in those low-ranking vampires were correct. Don't you agree… Father?"
Dracula looked at Serena deeply, then chuckled. "Yes, you did the right thing. I was short-sighted."
In this atmosphere, something seemed to be brewing in Dracula's eyes. He turned to Lupin, a strange expression on his face. "If you can't find a job… Mr. Lupin, would you like to become the next werewolf king?"
Lupin's eyes widened. "No, I can't!" he refused hastily. "I'm not cut out for it, and I've always been ostracized by the community…"
"Don't be so quick to refuse," Dracula said, two sharp canines unconsciously peeking out, his eyes glowing wine-red. "I ask you, Lupin, don't you want to make a contribution to werewolves as destitute as yourself? Don't you want to change the perception of your kind in the eyes of ordinary wizards? Don't you want to walk openly through Diagon Alley without being judged?"
"The vampire race has taken hundreds of years to achieve this, and even now, we are only halfway there. So I ask you, can you stand up and lead the werewolf race in taking the first step away from discrimination?!"
…
Lupin left Dracula Castle. He left with his tattered clothes and empty hands, but a seed had been planted in his heart—a dream that Dracula had given him.
He had a dream. He dreamed that one day, in the high towers of Hogwarts, the children bitten by werewolves and the children of ordinary wizards would be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. He dreamed that one day every valley would be exalted, and every mountain and hill made low, the crooked ways made straight, and the rough places plain.
…
"You're quite the smooth talker," Serena said, watching Dracula pour himself another glass of crimson liquid. "And for some reason… those words don't sound like something you would come up with."
"Of course, they weren't my words," Dracula said, elegantly sipping his wine. "Lee Jordan. He's a student I teach at Hogwarts, the roommate of a pair of troublemakers. He handed in an assignment like that for Muggle Studies once. Professor Burbage was moved to tears, but another Muggle-born student exposed it as a speech given thirty years ago by a man named Martin Luther King."
"It sounds like you're having a rather pleasant time as a teacher, then?" Serena looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. "So you can leave all the trivial matters of this castle to me with a clear conscience, is that it?"
"Ahem…" Dracula choked on his wine. "How did you manage to drag the conversation back to this?"
"Hmph, you've already made yourself a hands-off boss. Can't I even complain a little?"
"Alright, alright," Dracula laughed helplessly. "As long as you manage the castle well for me, you can complain all you want!"
With that, he casually placed his goblet on the table, opened a black sun-shielding umbrella, and walked toward the door.
"Let's go. Time to clean up the battlefield again," Dracula said. "Let's see if last night's great battle left behind any undiscovered treasures!"
[Chapter Complete]
***
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