Dark Deals: The Vampire Who Owns Hogwarts

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The once-proud school directors felt their confidence crumble as the magical glow on their school board badges flickered and faded.

They had spent fortunes and countless resources over the years, but why? All of it was for one thing—the school board badge.

Hogwarts wasn't just a school, it was a cornerstone of the wizarding world. The only magical school in Britain, it had shaped countless wizards who later went on to become leaders, innovators, and legends.

To hold a position on the Hogwarts School Board wasn't just about prestige; it was a golden ticket. It offered access to the elite of the magical world, expanded social networks, and created endless opportunities for wealth and influence. This was why even powerful wizards were eager to teach there—to stay connected to its immense power and legacy.

But the badge wasn't just a status symbol. It had real magical authority, tied directly to Hogwarts itself. It gave the board the power to influence the school's future, its policies, and its legacy. Without it, the school directors were nothing more than sponsors—donating their gold and time without any real power to show for it.

Now, seeing the magical light on their badges gradually fade away, the panic set in.

"What's happening?!"

"This can't be! There must be a mistake!"

Lucius Malfoy stared at his darkening badge, his composure slipping. Slowly, he turned his gaze to the figure at the round table—a man with silver hair and an unsettling smile.

"Dracula," Lucius said, his voice tense. "What have you done to our badges?"

Dracula leaned back casually, the smirk on his face sharp and mocking. "I thought I made myself clear," he said. "The Hogwarts School Board has been fired."

"Nonsense!" snapped Yaxley, one of the older school directors. "No one person can rewrite the rules of Hogwarts!" His voice rose, desperate, as he turned to Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, how can you stand by and let this happen? This is the only magical school in the UK—our legacy is at stake!"

Yaxley's eyes were full of hope, as if Dumbledore would rise to the occasion, just as he had faced Grindelwald years ago.

But Dumbledore's response crushed that hope.

"Mr. Yaxley," he said lightly, "I'm just an old headmaster, trying to enjoy my days here at Hogwarts. Running the school and recruiting professors keeps me busy enough. As for the school board's matters… I'm afraid that's outside my responsibilities."

Yaxley's face turned red with fury.

"Dumbledore, the rumors were right! You've grown soft—content to sit here while Hogwarts falls apart!" he spat.

But even as he raged, Yaxley subtly motioned to the others around him.

Several directors exchanged glances and quietly reached for their wands.

"If you won't act, then I will!" Yaxley declared, raising his wand and pointing it at Dracula. "Take that parchment from him! The badge's magic can be restored—it's still ours!"

His rallying cry spurred the others into action. Spell after spell shot through the air, as the directors launched their attacks at Dracula.

Even the hesitant ones joined in, unable to resist the temptation. It was clear—the parchment in Dracula's hands was the key to everything. Whoever controlled it would control the school board.

Lucius hesitated, gripping his cane wand tightly.

"Father, don't!" Draco's voice cut through the chaos as he grabbed his father's arm. "Professor Dracula doesn't need spells to win—he defeated an entire senior class without even trying! You'll only get hurt!"

Lucius faltered, doubt creeping into his mind. But before he could decide, the room was plunged into darkness.

A dark full moon appeared above, swallowing all light. Only a faint silver glow remained, cold and eerie.

In the shadowy light, the directors' spells faltered—and then, in an instant, turned back on their casters.

Screams filled the room as the magic struck them down, magnified in strength. The directors who had used dark spells suffered the most, their own curses leaving them writhing in pain. Some barely clinging to life.

A quiet, mocking voice broke the silence. "So, not only do wizards have poor hearing and vision," Dracula said, his tone dripping with disdain, "but their magic isn't much to brag about either."

The darkness faded, and Dracula's silver hair shone once more. But this time, it seemed colder—like moonlight on a frozen night.

Lucius stood frozen, his cane still pointed at Dracula. He swallowed hard, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple.

Dracula turned his piercing gaze toward him, a sly smile curling his lips. "Mr. Malfoy," he said smoothly, "is there something you'd like to add?"

Lucius stiffened, realizing his mistake. Slowly, he lowered the cane, his mind racing. But the heir to the Malfoy family was nothing if not quick on his feet.

"Ah, Mr. Dracula," Lucius said, regaining his composure. He held his cane in both hands, bowing slightly. "This wand is a unique design, crafted by a master wandmaker. I thought you might appreciate its craftsmanship."

His words were smooth, but his voice betrayed the tension beneath his calm exterior.

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