Dumbledore gazed at the docile Basilisk, a thoughtful expression on his face. He then turned to Dracula with a twinkle in his eye. "Since it is Slytherin's pet," he said with a gentle smile, "then it seems only right that Slytherin's oldest friend should decide its fate. I don't believe I have the right to dispose of property left by a founder."
Dracula chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "Salazar has been dead for a millennium, Dumbledore. There is no need for such pleasantries. As of now, his property is my property. And I intend to use it to deal with his troublesome descendants."
With that, he reached out and rubbed the Basilisk's great, green forehead. "How would you like a new home? A nice, quiet forest in Albania," he murmured to the great serpent. "And while you're there, perhaps you could do me a small favor. Search the hollow trees. Find a silver diadem, one that glitters with sapphires. The one Rowena often wore on her head. You would remember it."
The Basilisk, whose intelligence had grown immensely over its thousand-year life, understood him perfectly. It closed its eyes and obediently nodded its massive head.
"Professor Dracula," Dumbledore asked, his curiosity piqued. "Did you not learn of the Diadem's location from Lord Voldemort himself?"
Dracula's face darkened. Voldemort's audacious, pathetic attempt to bargain with the secret of immortality had so thoroughly annoyed him that, in his haste to obliterate the fool, he had completely forgotten to ask about Helena's diadem. Fortunately, the task of rehoming the Basilisk had jogged his memory.
"Professor, since you've chosen Albania, there is something you should know," Dumbledore said, his expression growing serious. "For the past decade, a friend of mine, Newt Scamander, has been observing a strange phenomenon in those very forests."
"A few years ago, the Albanian Ministry of Magic invited him to investigate. In one particular forest, animals were dying. They had no wounds, but their bodies were withered and shrunken, their life force drained away..."
A look of interest crossed Dracula's face. "The same signs that appeared in the Forbidden Forest not long ago," he mused. "A dark art that siphons life to replenish one's own." He looked at Dumbledore. "You believe Voldemort was behind this?"
"It seems highly likely," Dumbledore nodded. "After Quirrell brought Voldemort to Hogwarts, Newt wrote to me. The mysterious deaths in the forest stopped completely."
"Which means," Dracula said, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face, "that after I annihilated the power he had just regained, he will almost certainly flee back to the one place he knows. The Albanian forest where he hid for eleven years."
He turned back to the Basilisk. "In that case, I have one more task for you," he said gently. "Find him. Find the descendant of Slytherin who once controlled you. I will visit you from time to time to check on your progress."
The Basilisk nodded its great head again, its loyalty to its former master's line utterly severed.
"Professor Dracula," Dumbledore asked suddenly. "As I recall, you mentioned you do not speak Parseltongue. How do you intend to communicate with the Basilisk?"
"Headmaster," Dracula chuckled, looking at him with deep amusement. "Must our methods of gathering information be limited to something as inefficient as verbal communication? Surely, Legilimency is a far more direct approach."
Dumbledore's eyelid twitched. To use Legilimency on a Basilisk, one had to first meet its gaze. A feat only a being like Dracula would even contemplate. He sighed inwardly, a silent acknowledgment of the sheer, terrifying power of the man before him.
Dracula gave the Basilisk one final, reassuring pat. He then stepped back, observing the creature thoughtfully.
"Professor, if you require assistance, Fawkes can transport the Basilisk outside the castle grounds," Dumbledore offered, assuming Dracula was pondering the logistics. "I can also contact a team of specialists. They could have it safely delivered to Albania by tomorrow."
"Or," he continued, "we could use Newt's method. Create a space with an Undetectable Extension Charm, place the Basilisk inside, and use a Portkey. I am quite skilled at making them."
Dracula simply shook his head. "There is no need for such trouble," he chuckled. "I was just wondering how large a moon I would need to create to fit this fellow inside."
Before Dumbledore could process his words, Dracula grabbed the Basilisk's tail and, with a faint pop of displaced air, vanished.
The next moment, they reappeared hundreds of feet above the castle. The Basilisk, having never been airborne in its life, began to thrash in a panic.
"Do not move," Dracula said, his voice flat and cold. "Or I will drop you."
The great serpent instantly went rigid, allowing Dracula's magic to hold it suspended in the night air.
"Very good," he nodded in satisfaction. "That room was far too cramped. Here, we have room to stretch."
He raised a hand to the sky.
High above, an immense, illusory moon of pure darkness began to form, casting a cool, ethereal light over the landscape. The Basilisk's enormous body was slowly drawn into its shadowy depths. As it passed through, it saw not darkness, but a dense, ancient forest. It could smell the rich scent of rain-soaked earth, of decaying leaves, and the fresh aroma of new life.
Tonight, there were two moons in the sky above Hogwarts, casting two very different kinds of moonlight upon the slumbering castle below.
(End of Chapter)
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