The atmosphere suddenly grew heavy, stripping away any joy from their victorious return.
"Your Majesty," Moriarty patted the flank of the mount beneath him. "Faster, hurry."
The King's wings beat with renewed intensity, the rush of wind howling in Moriarty's ears, while razor-sharp gusts lashed against his face.
Moriarty conjured a protective shield around himself and the King, pressing forward against the fierce winds toward England.
At six in the morning, the Thoroughbreds crossed the English Channel and returned to England.
By eight o'clock, the Purebloods soared back to Hogwarts.
Despite the morning's scorching sun, Hogwarts Castle was cloaked in darkness.
A massive shadow loomed over the castle, projecting onto the ground—a vampire's head.
The ghostly visage was hauntingly handsome, lips curled into a sly grin, staring straight at Moriarty.
"It's Dracula's face," Moriarty muttered grimly. He had seen it before in Quinlan's memories.
His face hardened. The strangeness surrounding the castle was undeniably linked to Dracula's ghost head. The answer lay before them.
Overnight, the ever-bustling Hogwarts had transformed into a terrifying haunted house.
Only a crimson chandelier atop the tower flickered weak light. The castle's walls were smeared with blood, a foul stench filling the air. Armored suits lined both sides of the main gates, but their helmets were missing.
"Headless armor," Jericho whispered, his voice tense. "It must be the Headless Horseman seeking revenge."
"I wondered if the Headless Horseman would retaliate by beheading the people in the castle... and smearing their blood on the walls," Charlie added, trying to keep his voice steady. His three younger brothers were still inside the castle.
"I don't think so," Tonks said sharply. Her keen eyes scrutinized the bloodstains. "It smells like mutton... This is sheep's blood—and pig's."
Tonks, frequenting both the Hogwarts kitchen and the Hufflepuff dining hall, knew blood better than most.
Charlie's panic eased slightly at her words.
"When do we go in, Sir?" Leon asked, his voice solemn as he turned to Moriarty.
"The Headless Horseman is merely Dracula's corpse. He wouldn't have the power to alter the castle like this," Moriarty replied. "I suspect virus magic has infected the students and professors, manipulating them into turning the castle into a haunted house."
The Purebloods nodded grimly.
Tonks asked, "Then what's the plan?"
"Stay here. I'll scout the situation inside first," Moriarty reassured them with a firm look.
He plunged his staff into the ground, chanted spells, and summoned his dominion magic to investigate Hogwarts.
Within seconds, Moriarty's vision filled with magical auras—brilliant halos representing each wizard's magic power. Yet each halo bore a growing black spot.
The spots multiplied, invading the auras rapidly. The auras writhed in pain but could not resist.
"No wonder the vampires call it virus magic," Moriarty said grimly. "It's cunning, insidious, and all-consuming."
The Purebloods anxiously awaited his report.
Moriarty shook his head gravely. He had seen the largest and brightest halo—Headmaster Dumbledore's—heavily tainted with dark spots.
"Headmaster Dumbledore has been infected by Dracula's virus magic."
The group fell silent, stunned.
As if to confirm his words, the ghostly vampire face grinned and emitted a hoarse, mocking laugh.
"I sense someone probing the castle... is it you, Moriarty Slytherin?
Besides Dumbledore, you're the only one capable of it. Come, look! Witness your beloved castle—your school, your professors, your classmates. Feast your eyes!"
The castle gates swung open with a resounding crash.
Students poured out, lining up before the Pureblood army.
Their skin was deathly pale, heads bowed, eerie red lights flashing intermittently in their eyes.
Clad in their school robes and scarves, a sinister black rune was etched around each of their necks.
Seeing Percy and the twins among them, Charlie bolted forward, frantic. He barely made it a few meters before Leon yanked him back with a spell.
"What did you do to them?!" Charlie roared at Dracula, his face purple with rage.
"I did nothing—yet," Dracula said lightly. "You returned quite promptly. It seems the vampires who opposed you have failed."
He spoke with unsettling calmness, unbothered by Moriarty's forces.
Dracula even mocked the vampires: "This generation of vampires is pathetic! I suspect they sent their weakest to aid me."
Jericho brandished his wand. "So you admit it—you're Dracula, the headless bloodsucker?"
"Dear little Jericho," Dracula said with an exaggerated blink. "Forgive me. I deceived you.
But please understand—it wasn't my intention. Sealed for thousands of years, I was desperate to experience the world again."
"Spare me your theatrics," Jericho sneered. "We never trusted you."
"Is that so?" Dracula chuckled. "If you hadn't been drawn in by my stories, would you have let me roam free?
If you hadn't trusted me, would Hogwarts Castle have fallen into my hands?
Dear Jericho... tell me honestly."
He continued with a mocking tone: "There were three of you who listened to my stories: Moriarty, Jericho, and a girl. Where is she? Bring her here.
Moriarty, I've prepared a game for the three of you—an unforgettable experience, much like hearing my tales before the mural.
Now, I've said enough. It's your turn, little Jericho."
Dracula lounged lazily, like a cat toying with its prey.
Jericho's answer was his wand firing a spell: "Bombarda!"
Boom!
The ground cracked, and the ghostly projection shriveled.
Jericho marched over and stomped it a few times for good measure.
"If you dare address me like that again, Dracula," Jericho drawled coldly, "I'll carve a memory into you that you'll never forget."
His face was expressionless, but his voice was ice.
"As for your question—why not guess? You're supposed to be a master manipulator. Try and understand my mind.
You'll soon find nothing but visions of you being smashed into a thousand pieces!"
"Excellent. Truly excellent. Remember—I gave you a chance," Dracula said, his eyes darkening. He turned to Moriarty. "And you?"
Moriarty calmly leveled his staff at the projection.
To everyone's shock, the ghost head began to move—lifting slowly into the air.
Dracula's smugness vanished, replaced by unease.
"You see," Moriarty said coolly, "you don't control the castle. Hogwarts still belongs to the Founders—and to us."
A roar of cheers erupted from the Purebloods. Leon pumped his fist in the air.
"Nothing's sweeter than hearing that!" he cried.
"Vanish!" Moriarty commanded, and with a flick of his staff, the ghost head evaporated.
"Dracula!" Moriarty bellowed at the castle.
"Listen well, headless vampire! Before you stands the Hogwarts Thoroughbreds!
I have all your secrets. I know your head is sealed in Lake Avalon. I know the alchemical matrix can seal your virus magic. I know your strength is pitifully diminished—you're only capable of lurking in the shadows!
And you? You know nothing about us!"
A hoarse roar echoed from deep within the castle.
"Moriarty!"
A gust of air blasted out from the gates, rippling toward them.
"You don't want to fight your classmates and professors, do you?
Then bring your two companions... and step into the castle!"
PS :
JOIN MY PATREON TO READ ADVANCE CHAPTERS
We're already at Vol 2 Chapter 175 on Patreon!
▶ patreon.com/HACKDWORLD