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Chapter 20: Halloween

"It's all because of you, you worthless waste. I had to intervene myself that day," Voldemort said coldly. "The magic I used to help you escape was too rare for someone of your apparent capabilities to handle."

"Now I even suspect that he agreed to have you come to Hogwarts just to study the magic I used to help you escape, and to uncover other secrets you might have!"

"W-what should I d-do?" Quirrell stammered in fear. "Does that mean I'll be under his watch all the time, with no chance to search for the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Don't worry. We'll wait for an opportunity," Voldemort said darkly. "An opportunity when everyone is gathered together and too busy to notice you. When that time comes, you'll do this..."

...

The opportunity Voldemort mentioned didn't take long to present itself.

Immersed in the company of many young students, over a month passed quickly, and Dracula was about to experience his first Halloween at Hogwarts.

In the headmaster's office on the eighth floor of the main tower, Dracula leaned against a wall filled with portraits. Next to him was a pointed wizard's hat.

The hat's brim had a slit for a mouth and wrinkles that formed a pair of eyes, giving it a forlorn expression that could make any onlooker feel sympathetic.

"Boohoo... you can't do this to me. I'm a sentient hat, each speck of dust on me is a testament to my history..." the Sorting Hat wailed. "And now, look at me, I'm no different from any ordinary hat!"

The once shabby, dusty Sorting Hat was now completely restored! All the worn and patched areas had been neatly repaired, and its dirty exterior had been cleaned to perfection.

It now looked like a brand-new wizard's hat, with no signs of its actual thousand-year-old age.

"How could you go so long without a wash? Didn't it bother you? I just cleaned you up a bit, and you're still not happy?" Dracula said playfully, tossing the hat into the air, catching it, and tossing it again, having a great time.

"Stop! Please stop! I'm going to be sick!" the Sorting Hat pleaded loudly, "I was wrong, Count, I shouldn't have expressed even the slightest dissatisfaction with your decision!"

Hearing the hat's plea, Dracula stopped and casually placed it on a nearby chair.

"How about now? Still want to protest?" Dracula asked with a slight smile.

His long fingers hovered near the hat's brim, ready to resume the fun of tossing it if its answer displeased him.

"No more protests, I won't dare," the Sorting Hat said listlessly. "Count, please spare me. I just wasn't used to it at first, but now that I've adjusted, being clean feels quite nice."

Dracula withdrew his hand, and the hat heaved a sigh of relief.

On the wall of portraits, the former headmasters also expressed approval of the Sorting Hat's clean appearance.

A former headmaster with sparse eyebrows and a goatee, a Slytherin, commented, "Good, finally I don't have to start my day seeing a ragged hat."

Dracula glanced at the nameplate under the portrait, which read Phineas Nigellus Black. Dracula didn't know this headmaster, who must have served after he went into hibernation.

At this moment, a female headmistress took over the conversation. "Count Dracula, I remember seeking you out several times during my tenure as headmistress, but you didn't even bother to come to Hogwarts to meet me. Why is it that now, under Dumbledore's headship, you took the initiative to apply for a teaching position?"

She looked directly at Dracula, her tone a bit sour.

"Ah, Dilys, long time no see." Dracula raised his hand in greeting to the intellectual and elegant Dilys Derwent.

Then, without hesitation, he shifted the blame to Dumbledore. "Dilys, you managed Hogwarts so safely and stably during your tenure that I couldn't find anything interesting to do. But now it's different. Under Dumbledore, there are plenty of amusements to be had, like the annually changing Defense Against the Dark Arts professor position, which I find quite intriguing."

Headmistress Derwent chuckled softly, casting her gaze towards Dumbledore, who looked on helplessly.

"Professor Dracula, I feel like you're badmouthing me to my face," Dumbledore said as he stood up from behind his desk and approached Dracula.

"Not at all, I'm just speaking the truth," Dracula said, swiftly changing the subject. "I got distracted by the Sorting Hat earlier and almost forgot to ask why you called me here in the first place."

Dumbledore happily went along with the change of topic. "It's nothing major. Halloween is approaching, and I thought the holiday suits the image of a vampire count quite well. So, I wanted to ask if you have any ideas for a performance."

"A performance?" Dracula raised an eyebrow. "I recall you telling me not to reveal my vampire identity to avoid complaints from some parents."

"Other times wouldn't be appropriate, but Halloween is different," Dumbledore smiled. "On Halloween, no matter what you turn into, the students and staff will think it's part of a costume. They won't genuinely suspect Professor Dracula's true identity."

"Forget it. Performing is too much trouble," Dracula shook his head. "But I can write a letter and invite a well-known half-vampire singer to perform. I need to ask him a few things anyway."

"Also, you can leave the decoration of the Great Hall to me. The limited imagination of Hogwarts professors isn't well-suited for such tasks!"