Dracula spotted Sullivan almost immediately—the same meddling wizard who had ruined his blood-turning ritual. His eyes burned with pure hatred. "So it's you. You actually had the nerve to show your face in front of me again. This time, I'm going to kill you!"
Sullivan quickly yanked a healing potion from his bag and downed it in one gulp. At the same time he waved Snape and Teemo closer, putting on his best "old pals catching up" smile. "Count Dracula! Fancy meeting you here. While we were inside the secret realm we actually found some records about you. You used to be the lord of this town, right? Too bad that evil Hopping Pot screwed you over and drove you out. Good news—we just took care of the damn thing for you. So we're not really enemies anymore, are we?"
"You killed the Hopping Pot?" Dracula snarled, clearly not buying it. As a vampire he knew some of the cauldron's secrets. He had come back to Ireland specifically to use the Pot and push his own power even further. Now this wizard was telling him it was already dead? No way.
Sullivan shrugged and pointed at the shattered stone platform. "You can see for yourself. The platform's wrecked, the pocket dimension collapsed. The Hopping Pot went with it."
Dracula laughed coldly. "Hahaha! You think you can trick me? I know more than you do, boy. The secret realm was built by that meddlesome wizard using the Hopping Pot's own body—sealing it with its own power."
"Even if the realm shattered, the Pot should have returned to the real world, not vanished. So you took it, didn't you?"
Sullivan suddenly remembered a line from Frant Slytherin's diary. He hadn't expected Dracula to know the same detail. It also proved just how strong Slytherin had been—building an entire alternate-dimension prison out of his enemy's own power without the thing ever fully figuring it out. Sullivan made a mental note: That was a trick worth learning.
He kept stalling. "That wizard you mentioned… Frant Slytherin? You knew him?"
"Of course I knew him!" Dracula spat. "That bastard helped the Hopping Pot and those worthless peasants drive me out of my own home."
"I thought I was finished. But fate had other plans. I met the legendary Vampire Queen Lilith herself. I swore loyalty to her, and she granted me eternal life."
"I came back to reclaim what was mine. That interfering Slytherin wouldn't let it go. Even after I fled to England he hunted me down and sealed me away for five hundred years."
Dracula stretched out one massive hand, hovering above them. "Everything here belongs to me. Since you've already destroyed the Hopping Pot, hand it over. Do that and I'll forgive your crimes."
Sullivan nodded, reached into his undetectable extension bag, and said cheerfully, "You're right, Count. If you want it, it's yours!"
In one smooth motion he pulled out a rocket launcher, shouldered it, and fired straight at the vampire in the sky.
Dracula had tasted this weapon before. He flapped his huge wings and shot backward, sneering, "The same trick won't work on me twice!"
Sullivan grinned and gave a little wave. "What if it's a different trick?" Then he, Snape, and Teemo closed their eyes tight.
Dracula sensed something was off but refused to shut his eyes. He kept dodging—until the rocket exploded about a hundred meters in front of him.
Based on their last fight he figured the distance was safe. Then the warhead burst into blinding white light.
The moment the light hit Dracula's eyes, he saw himself again—dressed in full noble regalia, laughing with his wife and children at a grand feast inside his castle…
It was Sullivan's newest invention, built with tech taken straight from the Mirror of Erised. A magical flash that forced the target to see their deepest desire.
It wouldn't hold Dracula long. The second the explosion faded, Sullivan yanked out a plain-looking umbrella—a Portkey set for Hogsmeade.
He, Teemo, Snape, and Coal Ball all grabbed the handle at once. Sullivan flicked the switch.
The familiar gut-wrenching hook yanked at their navels. The world spun like a washing machine on spin cycle. A heartbeat later they tumbled into a back room at the Flying Feather Magic Phone Experience Store.
"Ugh… finally back," Sullivan groaned, dropping straight to the floor. Portkeys were the worst—way rougher than Apparition.
Snape looked just as wiped out. Wizards didn't have mana bars, but every spell burned stamina and focus. He collapsed beside Sullivan. "Next time you want to do something this suicidal, leave me out of it. I'm never going with you again."
"Heh. Teemo, hand over that potion the Hopping Pot gave you," Sullivan said, already grinning. "It's definitely spiked. Professor Snape can study it for us."
Teemo nodded and passed the vial over. He knew he could never drink it safely, but maybe once Snape figured it out he could buy a clean version and see his old master one last time.
Sullivan had no idea what Teemo was thinking. If he had, he could've just used the Mirror of Erised tech to give the little elf the same happy memory without any risk.
They were still handing the potion to Snape when Lupin burst in, wand raised. The huge magical disturbance had set off every alarm in the factory.
He'd thought someone was trying to steal trade secrets. When he saw it was just Sullivan's group he let out a huge sigh of relief and lowered his wand.
"You're back already? I figured you'd be gone at least three days!"
"Wait—how long were we gone?" Sullivan asked, pulling out his phone to check the time.
They had only been inside the realm for about three hours in real time. Inside, it had felt like a full day and a half. Interesting time-dilation effect.
Sullivan's mind immediately started spinning with possibilities. Maybe we could turn this into a magical VR game. Hook a wizard's soul perception into a phone, drop them into an open-world illusion space…
He got more excited the longer he thought about it and started grinning like an idiot—until Snape smacked him across the face.
"What the hell?!" Sullivan clutched his cheek, staring at his friend in disbelief.
Snape fought back a smirk and tried to look innocent. "You were standing there laughing to yourself. I thought you might've been hit with a curse, so I was waking you up."
"You did that on purpose! Your mouth is twitching—you're trying not to laugh!" Sullivan snapped. He drew his wand. "That's it. We're settling this right now."
Snape just flicked his own wand lazily. The spell yanked Sullivan off his feet and sent him flying across the room like a rag doll.