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Dumbledore turned his gaze toward Moriarty, smiling without uttering a word. His eyes, hidden behind half-moon spectacles, sparkled with warmth and a trace of curiosity.
"When I received Professor Flitwick's letter," Dumbledore began, gently placing a peach-flavored toffee into his mouth, "my first reaction was: how unfortunate for that vampire to provoke you of all people."
As a traditional British wizard, it was difficult for Dumbledore to harbor any affection for vampires. If Moriarty hadn't used the Death-Slaying Curse, Dumbledore might have fully supported him in exterminating more vampires.
"But then," Dumbledore continued, his expression turning more solemn, "the response from the upper echelons of vampire society made me realize something—what you're pursuing has touched upon one of their deepest secrets." He looked directly at Moriarty, the gentleness in his tone replaced with gravity. "The clearest evidence to support my conclusion was the attitude of the French Ministry of Magic. Feng Wei Capet may not be powerful, but he's stubborn. And casting the Death-Slaying Curse in front of him certainly didn't please him."
"The Death-Slaying Curse?" Diana exclaimed in disbelief. Her green eyes locked on Moriarty. "You used that to kill the vampire?"
"I heard vampires have recently started hunting elves," Moriarty said coldly, turning toward Diana. "Consider it a form of revenge for your people."
Diana leaned back in her chair, undeterred by his tone. "I believe something deeper is at play. Vampires wouldn't target the elves—and even their kin—without reason."
Moriarty's thoughts flicked to Fleur. As a Veela, she was closely related to the elves—descended from them, perhaps.
"Veela—are they related to elves?" he asked suddenly.
"Of course," Diana replied, lifting her chin with pride. "Goblins, for instance, were once elves. Their betrayal transformed them. They are no longer honored among us, which is why they remain silent about their lineage."
"But I haven't heard of any goblins being attacked by vampires," Moriarty pointed out.
"That's because they hide in Gringotts," Diana sneered. "Vampires don't want to draw attention from wizards. Although they don't conceal their actions—werewolves have heard the rumors of the vampire hunt, but wizards? Oblivious. It wasn't until I arrived at Hogwarts that I realized your Ministry of Magic is preoccupied with power struggles. What a joke."
Diana's voice trembled with suppressed anger. She began to mock wizards. Moriarty glanced at Dumbledore, the most revered white wizard of the age. But Dumbledore said nothing to refute her.
Noticing this, Moriarty decided to intervene. He turned his chair to face Diana fully, his gray eyes meeting her emerald gaze.
"If your people are being hunted, why are you here? Why did you leave them behind?"
"I came to Hogwarts to find a solution that could save my people!" Diana answered firmly. "The vampire attacks are a separate matter. I can order the elves back to the lake. Our ancestral magic still protects that place—vampires can't enter it."
Dumbledore paused, then gently set down his toffee. "Professor Diana," he said gravely, "I strongly disagree that the vampire attacks and the emotional instability of the elves are unrelated."
"You think they're connected," Diana replied, trying to reason with him. "But the elves' emotional disturbance came before the attacks. That's a chronological fact."
"If life could be explained purely by timelines, there would be far fewer tragedies," Dumbledore said quietly. "But in this world, details matter. What seems insignificant may hide the truth."
Diana considered his words carefully. Moriarty knew elves possessed extraordinary memory, capable of recalling centuries of events with clarity.
After a minute of deep thought, Diana shook her head. "No abnormalities. I still believe Hogwarts is at the center of this."
"I agree with her on that," Moriarty said, sitting up straighter. His sharp gaze met Dumbledore's. "If the Headless Horseman truly made a prophecy, we should begin with him."
"Indeed," Diana nodded.
"But the Headless Horseman doesn't have a dedicated mural. He wanders. We can't track him. We must wait until he comes to us," Dumbledore said regretfully. "I've tried locating him, but it's impossible. And when faced with harsh reality, we must try other means."
"So you sent Bill to investigate the vampires," Moriarty concluded.
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded.
"Then I'll go after the Headless Horseman myself," Moriarty offered. "But to move forward quickly, I suggest you send someone—on my behalf—to meet with the Old Jew among the vampire aristocracy."
"The Old Jew? You mean the Jewish Marquis?" Diana exclaimed, clearly shocked. "Vampires of Jewish descent never deal with outsiders, and they hate being called that. You're acquainted with him?"
Moriarty hadn't realized the Old Jew held the title of marquis. But in France, the vampire executive had given him a sealed envelope. In it, the Old Jew explained that vampires were targeting elves due to a myth surrounding a headless vampire ancestor.
He shared this revelation with both Dumbledore and Diana.
Dumbledore silently unwrapped another candy, thoughtful. Diana, on the other hand, exploded in anger.
"A vampire ancestor? Nonsense! That belongs in mythology! We've never heard of a headless vampire ancestor. And this is why they're hunting us?" she fumed. "Ridiculous! They'll regret crossing the elves!"
She stood, her elegant figure trembling with fury. Despite their disadvantage in numbers, the elves' magic—especially within natural terrain like forests and lakes—was devastating.
If not for the emotional instability of her people, she would never have ordered a retreat to the lake.
Moriarty watched her stride away, the scent of floral perfume lingering in the air. Her heels clicked loudly against the stone floor. The proud elf priestess was furious, and once she reached the lake at Avalon, she'd surely mobilize her people.
He couldn't let that happen.
"If you go to war now, the elves will lose!" he called after her. "Either they'll be drained dry or transformed into blood kin. And you? The vampires may just keep you as a pet, drinking your blood whenever they're thirsty."
Moriarty smirked. "Not too bad a fate, right? Just like a rabbit in a Muggle farm—fattened and slaughtered."
Diana spun around, her green eyes ablaze. "If the Slytherin family were surrounded and attacked by vampires, would you still be sitting here sipping tea?"
"Of course not," Moriarty said evenly. "But I'd prepare thoroughly before going to war. Not rush in, blind with rage. Have you even identified which vampire clans are responsible? How strong they are? What their numbers are?"
He stood, his voice rising.
"No! I only see an angry priestess ready to lead her people to slaughter, just to satisfy her pride. And honestly, why should I care? Whether it's vampires or elves, it's got nothing to do with me. In a hundred years, you'll be nothing more than a page in history."
He fell silent and returned to his seat, deliberately relaxed.
"Got any tea, Dumbledore? Let her go. We'll sit here, sip black tea, and wait for the 'glorious' victory of the elves. If that happens, maybe I'll even finish five cups—though I hate black tea."
Diana's lips curled into a frosty smile. "Five cups? Fine. Then we will fight. And I will return to watch you drink every last drop."
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