Dark Deals: The Vampire Who Owns Hogwarts

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In the end, Dracula was not subjected to probation.

Instead, Snape, the dean of Slytherin House and a senior Potions professor, found himself on probation at the hands of Professor McGonagall, who also deducted half a year's salary from him.

According to the ever-curious Professor Kettleburn, McGonagall had apparently been wanting to take such action for some time but had been waiting for the right moment. Snape, as the head of Slytherin, had long been at odds with Gryffindor House, often holding a grudge against them. He was notorious for rarely deducting points from his own house but was quick to target Gryffindor, ensuring they remained at the bottom of the standings for years.

Though McGonagall was seething, she had to keep her cool, as she had a duty to maintain impartiality as the vice-principal. But now that she had finally found an opportunity to strike at Snape, she wasn't about to let it slip by.

The truth, however, was that Snape was far from guilty. He had no intention of provoking a fight with Dracula; it was all part of a plan masterminded by Dumbledore, and it had even resulted in Snape taking a considerable blow.

As for Dumbledore, the one truly responsible for the situation, he could only shrug it off.

In the world of Hogwarts, where even the most powerful figures were not beyond reproach, the only option was for the diligent Snape to bear the blame.

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November passed quietly, the weather growing colder as Christmas neared.

One crisp morning in mid-December, the students at Hogwarts awoke to find the entire grounds blanketed in several feet of snow, and the lake had frozen over, solid and still.

The Weasley twins had been punished by Professor McGonagall for using magic to enchant snowballs that chased Quirrell around, eventually pelting him in the back of his purple turban.

Quirrell, struck by the snowballs, collapsed into the snow, looking utterly embarrassed—not at all like the assistant teacher he was meant to be. But secretly, he was relieved.

Ever since Voldemort had obtained the Horcrux diary, the weak remnant soul that once inhabited Quirrell's body had abandoned him. It now resided in the soul fragment inside the diary. Quirrell wore the turban not for Voldemort's sake, but to conceal the grotesque scar on the back of his head.

As Quirrell pulled his arm out of the snow and felt the back of his head, he breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that Voldemort had shifted his position and wasn't affected by the snowballs. Had Voldemort been humiliated, he would have taken his anger out on Quirrell, and the consequences would have been dire.

But before Quirrell could fully rise from the snow, something suddenly caught his attention. His expression flickered, and he seemed to remember something. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes fixated on the diary in his arms, now completely soaked in snow. His face twisted with grief and indignation as he gazed at it.

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Snow was falling heavily outside the castle, and every classroom within the castle was warm, with strong stoves heating the air. The students, wrapped in the cozy warmth, were so drowsy that yawns seemed to spread like wildfire.

Dracula stood at the front of the class, holding a textbook, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the yawning students.

"What's going on, Weasley?!" he suddenly bellowed, causing the twins who had been nodding off in their seats to startle and jump up.

"Ah, tell Professor, we didn't do anything!" they exclaimed in unison.

"Then explain, are you two so tired that you're actually sleeping in my class?" Dracula sneered, clearly amused.

"Professor, we were locked up by Professor McGonagall until curfew last night," Fred began to complain. "Then we went back to the dorm to finish the homework you assigned us. We only slept three hours—really, we can't take it anymore…"

"What trouble have you two gotten into this time?" Dracula raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Why does it seem like Professor McGonagall puts you in solitary confinement every other day?"

George glanced at Dracula's face, noting that he appeared to be in a good mood, and decided to speak up. "Professor, don't you know? We hit Mr. Quirrell on the head with a snowball!"

The twins exchanged a quick, proud look before puffing out their chests with satisfaction.

Dracula watched their smug expressions, shaking his head in disbelief.

As he did so, his gaze drifted out the window and, seeing the snowflakes swirling outside, an idea struck him.

"Well, I think everyone looks quite sleepy in this weather," Dracula said, his lips curling into a smirk. "In that case, let's do something different today."

He walked to the window of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, waved his hand, and flung the windows open wide.

A gust of cold wind immediately swept into the room, making the sleepy students shiver. Their drowsiness vanished in an instant.

"Our lesson today will take place outside on the lawn," Dracula announced, his voice full of mischief. "To save time, everyone, jump out the window with me. Don't worry—I'll catch you outside."

Without waiting for a response, he deftly leaped out the window, leaving the students in stunned silence.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was only on the second floor, so Dracula didn't even use magic as he landed lightly in the deep snow on the lawn.

"You can come down now!" he called back, his feet crunching in the soft snow as he stood and waved.

Fred and George, now wide awake, were no longer sleepy. The two immediately rushed to the window, eager to imitate their professor's cool exit.

Lee Jordan, however, grabbed their hoods in a panic. "Hey, aren't you two worried? What if Professor Dracula fails to catch you?"

Fred grinned and teased, "Oh, is our little Lee Jordan scared? Don't worry, little one, if you fall from the second floor, you'll only need to lie in the hospital for two days—Madam Pomfrey will patch you right up!"

Before Lee could protest further, Fred jumped out the window.

George looked over at Lee, whose legs were trembling in fear. "Don't worry, Lee," he said with a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Professor Dracula can even catch Harry when he falls from high places. He'll catch us just fine from the second floor."

With that, George let out a whoop, threw an arm around Lee's shoulders, and dragged him to the window.

With a mix of Lee's terrified screams and their laughter, the trio jumped out together.

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