'I almost forgot, Professor Dracula. You are not just a vampire, but a genuine Count.'
Dumbledore paused for a moment, then smiled and shook his head. 'What do those noble spirits say? That you should treat women and children with special consideration?'
'I remember that in my time, it was about grace, dignity, and responsibility,' Dracula said casually, his arms crossed over his chest. 'Even if I do not care for these so-called noble spirits, it does not mean I am willing to push this kind of thing onto a child who has just entered school.'
Dumbledore watched as Harry's attention was completely captivated by the Mirror of Erised, a thoughtful, almost sad, expression appearing on his face.
'Professor Dracula, do not underestimate the threat of Voldemort,' he said softly to Dracula, while continuing to observe Harry's behaviour. 'No one has ever survived the Killing Curse, except for two people: Voldemort and Harry.'
'But Harry was not actually hit by Voldemort's Killing Curse. Lily's love for Harry allowed her to unleash an amazing protective magic, which rebounded Voldemort's Killing Curse back at him. So, the person who was truly hit by the Killing Curse was Voldemort, who cast the spell.'
Dumbledore told Dracula about the terror of Voldemort, but Dracula's attention was drawn to something else entirely.
'You mean, Harry's mother, just with the emotion of "love," had the ability to resist Voldemort?' His eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. 'Headmaster, do you not think that is… absurd?'
'Do not underestimate anyone's potential, Professor Dracula,' Dumbledore said seriously, his voice firm. 'Human potential is infinite. Especially in extremely urgent situations, for the sake of their loved ones, humans can often unleash an unprecedented power.'
'Professor Dracula,' he added, his eyes full of conviction, 'that is the power of bonds.'
Dracula looked at Dumbledore's serious expression, and an extremely ridiculous feeling rose in his heart.
Was Dumbledore senile? Or had he simply slept for a hundred years and could no longer keep up with the times? When did a wizard's potential become so great that they could use mere emotions to control their own strength?
If that were the case, would not those couples deeply in love and all the affectionate mothers and children in the world have the ability to pose a threat to the power of a Great Wizard?
This could be said to be an extremely unreasonable, almost laughable, proposition. Because Dracula knew, better than anyone, that the gap in strength between wizards was sometimes like a vast, insurmountable chasm.
Therefore, Dracula did not agree with Dumbledore's explanation of how Harry survived the Killing Curse. He preferred to find the answer himself.
'Let us skip this question. I am not interested in studying the emotional lives of your wizards,' Dracula said dismissively. 'Tell me, why do you think Voldemort survived after being struck by his own Killing Curse?'
Dumbledore shook his head helplessly at the sight, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes.
'Actually, I initially thought that Voldemort was truly dead, and I was relieved for a long time. Until I discovered that the curse on the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor position still existed… You should understand that one of the conditions for the existence of such a curse is the survival of the caster.'
'And this year, Quirrell's arrival and the series of events involving the coveting of the Philosopher's Stone have only confirmed this point,' Dumbledore said solemnly, his face grave. 'Voldemort never truly left. He was just waiting for the opportunity to return.'
'So you used the Philosopher's Stone to create a game, and also created an opportunity to train Potter with Voldemort?' Dracula asked, his voice sharp.
'That is right. As I guessed, Voldemort is still very weak and can only rely on others to act,' Dumbledore said. 'According to Voldemort's arrogant personality, if he were not weak to a certain extent, he would not have relied on Quirrell. He would have personally broken into Gringotts and stolen the Philosopher's Stone.'
'I think you should know that the Philosopher's Stone is Nicolas's very life,' Dracula's expression turned cold upon hearing Dumbledore's account. 'If Voldemort was really at his peak, he would not have returned empty-handed. And then, Nicolas's elixir of life would not have been able to continue.'
'Your arrangement puts Nicolas in an extremely dangerous situation. He does not care about his own life, but do you not care either?' Dracula questioned, his voice laced with a sudden, chilling anger.
'Do not worry, Professor Dracula. There is no need to take risks in this matter,' Dumbledore said with a calm smile, not at all offended. 'The Philosopher's Stone in Gringotts has always been a fake. The real one has always been with me.'
Dracula glanced at him in surprise and then nodded slightly, his anger subsiding.
'Nicolas told me about the things you discussed at the Garnier Opera House,' Dumbledore said with a gentle smile. 'He no longer wants to seek death. When this matter is over, the Philosopher's Stone will be handed over to you to take away.'
'Professor Dracula, you have not completely abandoned human emotions, have you? The feelings between friends are also a kind of bonding power.'
'I said, I am not interested in your bonding theory,' Dracula said, shifting his gaze and naturally changing the subject. 'You have not said how, in your guess, Voldemort survived the Killing Curse.'
Dumbledore turned to look at Dracula, his eyes deep and full of a terrible knowledge.
'I wonder if Professor Dracula has ever heard of an extremely evil, forbidden Dark Magic—a Horcrux?'
Hogwarts had an active Horcrux.
The young version of Voldemort, Tom Riddle, who had been transformed from the Horcrux diary, was foraging in the Forbidden Forest.
He stretched out a phantom hand and grabbed a passing hare. The rabbit kicked its hind legs frantically, its eyes wide with terror.
A burst of black, corrupted air surged from his hand. The hare quickly became lifeless, losing the strength to struggle. Even its whole body became shrivelled and desiccated.
Voldemort's phantom body seemed to solidify a little, becoming more substantial.
At this time, he suddenly frowned and opened the blank diary in his hand.
'It is useless to only absorb the life energy of animals. What you need is the life force of wizards.'
Two lines of delicate, elegant ink appeared on the diary's page.
'Of course I know. There is no need for you to remind me,' Voldemort said impatiently, his voice a low hiss. 'Now Dumbledore and that blasted Dracula are still suspecting Quirrell, and are even guarding against me. Where would I have the opportunity to absorb a wizard's life?'
The ink on the diary reorganised itself: 'Give me to any student, and I can bewitch them to offer their life force to you.'
'No need. Do you think I do not know? You just want me to leave the diary,' Voldemort sneered. 'Remember, you are just a Horcrux, and everything you have is just a part of my memory from before I was sixteen! All you need to do is one thing, and that is to obey me—to obey your main soul!'
With a sharp snap, Voldemort closed the diary and walked towards the dark depths of the Forbidden Forest.
There, a pure, beautiful creature, similar to a white horse, was lowering its head. A magnificent unicorn was drinking from the stream that flowed through the ancient forest.
'Avada Kedavra—'
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