"Silvanus, have you taken complete leave of your senses?!" Professor McGonagall's voice was dangerously quiet, her lips pressed into a thin, furious line as she stared at Professor Kettleburn, who was perched proudly atop the Basilisk.
"To release such a creature into the Forbidden Forest, a stone's throw from the castle... What happens when it gets out? When a student gets hurt? Will you take responsibility then? Or is it that sixty-two detentions in one year simply weren't enough for you? Are you trying to break your own record?"
Professor Kettleburn merely chuckled, pretending not to hear as he leaned down to get a better look at his prize.
"An absolutely magnificent specimen," he murmured, his eyes alight with academic fervor. "To see a living Basilisk... a true marvel." He peered at its face. "Fascinating. Most reptiles lack eyelids, yet this one clearly possesses them. A unique adaptation, I wonder?"
Seeing that he had slipped into his own little world of magical zoology, McGonagall shot the man a withering glare before turning back to Dumbledore and Dracula. The moment her back was turned, however, Kettleburn slid off the serpent's flank with an agility that completely betrayed his age and missing limbs.
"Blast, I forgot Minerva was here," he muttered, grabbing his crutch and limping towards the door. Just as he reached the threshold, he glanced back.
"Albus!" he shouted. "We'll discuss a spot for him in the Forest next time when Minerva isn't around!"
That was the final straw. McGonagall, her face a mask of thunder, strode after him, clearly demanding an explanation. Kettleburn, seeing her approach, began tapping his crutch on the stone floor in a rapid thump-thump-thump, breaking into a surprising speed-hobble. With a surprising burst of energy, the two elderly professors shot out of the room, one leaning heavily on his crutch, the other with her robes billowing behind her like a battle standard.
In the blink of an eye, only Dracula and Dumbledore remained, standing on opposite sides of the giant, comatose snake.
Understanding the eccentricities of his colleagues all too well, Dumbledore was the first to break the silence. He walked over to the Basilisk and gently stroked its cold, emerald scales. Though Quirrell had lured him away, Dumbledore had been monitoring the situation from the Ministry. After Dracula had given chase to Voldemort, the Headmaster had Fawkes bring him back to the castle specifically to subdue the creature before it could cause any more trouble. A simple Stupefy had rendered it harmless, which was the only reason Kettleburn had been able to climb on it in the first place.
"So," Dumbledore said, looking at Dracula with a curious smile. "This is the monster Slytherin left behind to guard the castle?"
"It would seem so," Dracula nodded. "I should have guessed. There are few magical creatures that can live for a millennium and possess such power." He snapped his fingers in front of the Basilisk's massive head.
The great beast's eyes fluttered open. The moment it saw the silver-haired demon standing before it, a primal terror seized it. The Basilisk squeezed its eyes shut and scrambled into the corner, coiling into a pathetic, trembling heap of green scales.
"Professor Dracula," Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "You seem to be quite familiar with this creature. But then, I forget you and Salazar were old acquaintances. It's not so surprising that you would know his pet."
Dracula smiled, though his expression became a little strained. Slytherin's pet. The words echoed in his mind. A flicker of something almost like guilt passed through him. He had, for his own amusement, repeatedly tormented this creature, draining its power for the sheer thrill of it. Was that not, by definition, animal abuse?
Thinking this, he reached out and patted the Basilisk's head, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. The great serpent, feeling this unfamiliar kindness, seemed to relax, pressing its massive head against Dracula's hand like a contented housecat.
"Dumbledore," Dracula said, stroking the serpent's smooth, cool scales. "What are your thoughts on where to house this... thing? Surely you're not considering Kettleburn's suggestion of the Forbidden Forest?"
"Absolutely not," Dumbledore said with a decisive wave of his hand. "Aside from the devastating impact a predator of this magnitude would have on the forest's ecosystem, there is a more pressing concern." He sighed. "I am well aware that many of our more... adventurous students enjoy exploring the forest. To place a creature in there that can kill with a single glance would be unconscionably reckless."
"So you are aware that students sneak into the forest?" Dracula raised an eyebrow, his expression one of faint amusement. "I had assumed your warnings at the start-of-term feast were merely for show. I've certainly never seen you enforce them."
"Ahem." Dumbledore gave a dry little cough. "Occasional adventures, Professor, are essential for cultivating courage, creativity, and adaptability in young wizards. So long as proper safety measures are in place, I see no harm in a little exploration of the forest's outer edges."
"And how do you ensure they don't wander into the deeper, more dangerous parts?" Dracula asked.
"Oh, don't worry," Dumbledore said with a conspiratorial wink. "The most dangerous areas are protected by wards that no student could possibly bypass. If a student were to find themselves in one of those areas, it would only be because I had... personally allowed them access."
Hearing this, Dracula felt a familiar wave of boredom wash over him. He popped a blood-flavored lollipop into his mouth. It was so painfully obvious. At some point in the future, the old man would undoubtedly lower the wards for his "chosen one," sending Harry Potter on some perilous quest to test his mettle and build his character.
Dracula found this sort of long-term, manipulative character-building to be excruciatingly dull.
He gave the Basilisk one last pat and changed the subject. "If not the Forbidden Forest, then do you have any other ideas?"
(End of Chapter)
***
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