Dark Deals: The Vampire Who Owns Hogwarts

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George and Lee Jordan tangled together in mid-air, tumbling and laughing as they jumped from the window. George grinned wildly, his eyes alight with excitement, while Lee, clinging desperately to George, screamed in horror.

As they plummeted toward the ground, a large bat appeared from the shadows, swooping beneath their feet. It caught them with a gentle, almost playful flap of its wings, then tossed them onto the soft snow below with surprising grace.

Fred, who had jumped ahead, strolled through the snow toward them, his arms wide as he embraced the two of them.

"Exciting, Lee?" he asked, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

Lee Jordan, panting and leaning against a nearby wall, gasped for air, his face a mix of shock and relief. "Too thrilling... I need a moment to breathe."

Fred and George exchanged a quick, mischievous glance before ignoring Lee altogether, linking arms and striding off together.

"So, George," Fred said with a sly grin, "how was it? Fun?"

"It's alright," George replied, glancing up at the looming towers of Hogwarts. "But the second floor is too low. Wouldn't it be more fun to jump from a taller building?" He looked back at Fred with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "What do you think? Gryffindor Tower. We could really make a splash then."

Fred raised an eyebrow, eyes sparkling. "Gryffindor Tower, huh? That's a bit more daring… I like it."

"Well," George continued, "you can dance all you want, but I'm not the one picking you up from the bottom!"

Dracula's voice suddenly rang out from nearby, cutting through the playful banter.

The twins, caught in their conspiracy, turned toward the professor, their grins never fading. "Professor, why don't you tell us how to avoid plummeting to our doom when jumping from such heights?" George asked, his voice oozing with playful innocence. "That way, we won't trouble you to save us next time."

Dracula raised his hand with a smooth, fluid motion, catching another student who had just leaped. He set them gently on the ground before replying, almost casually, "I thought by now you two would have mastered the Slowing Spell."

The twins blinked, then exchanged eager glances. "A Slowing Spell?" they said in unison, excitement sparking in their eyes. "Then we'll learn it right away, thank you, Professor!"

Dracula glanced at them for a long moment, then returned to his task, dismissing them with a quiet, wordless gesture.

With the twins leading the way, the third-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs began to leap from the windows of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom one by one. 

The Gryffindor students were the most exuberant, laughing and jostling each other in their eagerness to jump. They crowded together at the window, pushing and shoving, until with a single leap, a mass of students tumbled down in a chaotic, tangled mess, like a handful of wayward dumplings falling from a shelf.

At the last possible moment, Dracula's bats appeared beneath each student, gently catching them before they hit the ground, saving them from the dreaded fate of two days in the infirmary.

The last to jump was Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff. He had stayed behind to keep things in order, urging those who hesitated to face their fear and take the leap. He didn't need Dracula's bats, though. Cedric cast a Levitation Charm on the back of his school robe, allowing it to billow and carry him lightly to the snow below, landing as smoothly as a snowflake in a gentle breeze.

The twins watched with a touch of envy as Cedric landed effortlessly, his movements graceful and composed.

"Why does he look so heroic when he lands, but we end up stepping on bats?" Fred muttered, his eyes narrowed in frustration. "The professor could at least pick a more glamorous animal, you know... something quicker, something that makes us look impressive!"

George quickly hushed him, glancing around nervously. "Shh! Don't say that too loud! Dracula might hear you, and he's very fond of bats. I think he uses them for everything!"

Fred's eyes widened, and he immediately fell silent, worried that he might have pushed his luck too far.

Thankfully, Dracula's attention was elsewhere at that moment. Once all the students had arrived, the professor snapped his fingers. Instantly, a row of snowman targets appeared from the ground, standing at attention in the cold snow.

"The focus of today's practical session," Dracula began, his voice as smooth and confident as ever, "is spell accuracy. Pay attention, because in a duel, the speed and precision of your spells can determine the winner."

The twins exchanged a proud look as Dracula continued. "Though the Weasley twins' behavior in attacking teachers isn't something to emulate," he said with a sly glance in their direction, "their ability to accurately hit Professor Quirrell with a snowball demonstrates that their spell accuracy is impeccable."

Fred and George beamed at the compliment, their pride swelling. As beaters for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, accuracy was practically second nature to them. They had no problem hitting targets—whether they were snowballs or enemies.

Dracula continued, his gaze sweeping across the students. "In real combat, accuracy is vital. A well-aimed spell can turn the tide of a duel. But just as important is how often you can land those hits in a short amount of time to cause maximum damage."

He gestured for everyone to form a line, each student standing five meters away from a snowman target. "When I say 'start,' you will fire your best spells at the snowman in front of you. I want to see how accurately you can hit your target."

A kaleidoscope of colorful spells flashed in the air as the students fired at their targets. 

The twins and Cedric immediately obliterated their snowmen. But the rest of the students—while eager—weren't quite so skilled. Spells flew in all directions, some hitting targets, others flying wildly off course. One unfortunate student managed to accidentally hit a classmate with a blast, causing a cascade of laughter and a few bruised egos.

"Do you see now?" Dracula asked, his voice steady and calm, "The importance of spell accuracy? In a duel, it's not just about how often you cast spells—it's about how often you can hit your opponent, and how much damage you cause when you do."

With a snap of his fingers, Dracula restored the snowmen to their original, round shapes. 

"Now," he said, raising his wand, "let's start the next round. Focus, aim, and remember—calmness, determination, and precision are your allies in a duel. And above all, control your magic."

And with that, the next round began, each student determined to improve their aim, their spells crackling through the air with newfound focus.

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On the vast expanse of snow, the Defense Against the Dark Arts practical class continued in full swing 

A long row of snowmen stood in front of the students, each carefully aligned to match its respective little wizard. The goal was clear: to practice spell accuracy. 

From time to time, the bright flash of a curse would light up the sky, striking a snowman and sending it into a shower of frozen fragments. Yet, each time, the snowman target would magically repair itself, ensuring that the students could continue practicing without interruption. It was a scene of lively energy, as spell after spell flew through the crisp winter air.

Amidst the magical chaos, an unexpected figure arrived.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall," Dracula greeted, his expression suddenly turning serious as he approached her.

Professor McGonagall's lips were pressed into a tight line, her sharp eyes scanning the students as she adjusted her spectacles. "Professor Dracula," she replied, her voice controlled but tinged with unmistakable disapproval, "I need an explanation."

Dracula's brow furrowed slightly, sensing the gravity in her tone. Before he could respond, McGonagall continued, her voice now a little firmer. 

"If I read correctly," she said, eyes narrowing as she scanned the students below, "several of the students just jumped from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the second floor, correct?"

She paused for a moment, allowing the weight of her words to settle in the cold air before delivering her final, pointed question.

"How dare you teach your students like this?" she demanded, her sharp gaze never leaving Dracula's face.

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