But as a noble Vampire, a nobleman who once owned thousands of serfs, maintaining elegance and style was the most basic requirement of his upbringing.
Gori looked at his hands; his fingertips were covered in a layer of dust from wiping them with ash.
The layer of ash made his skin look even duller than usual, as if covered by an unclean veil.
"I wonder if I could get a few Vampire underlings to come in and clean up for me," he muttered to himself.
As he was thinking, his nostrils twitched suddenly again.
The smell was still there. Fresh, faint, a bloody stench mixed with the smell of old rust and mold. He had smelled it in the lobby before, and now, sitting here, closer to the smell, it was even clearer.
In the Gori, he stands up from the stone bench and walks towards the source of the smell.
He walked through the hall, past the stone tables and racks of torture instruments, and past the row of cells.
He peeked into each cell; to him, the bones and dust inside all looked the same, indistinguishable from one another.
As they walked to the end of the dungeon, looking at the walls decorated with black snake statues, Gori suddenly laughed.
The smile surfaced in the darkness, a faint curve appearing on the pale face, the corners of the mouth turning upwards to reveal two sharp teeth.
" Quirrell, Dumbledore, you don't know this," he said in a low voice, his words echoing through the dungeon walls, deep and slow, "But this dungeon holds secrets you know nothing of."
He stepped back from the wall, turned and walked towards his stone chair, his steps lighter than when he came, as if he had discovered something that pleased him.
"Perhaps this will be a good opportunity."
At six o'clock the next morning, before dawn, Hogwarts Castle was bathed in a grayish-blue morning light. A few candles were still lit in the corridors, but the light was much dimmer than at night, just like Herman's mood, gloomy and listless.
When Herman sat up in bed, there were two obvious bluish-gray circles under his eyes. He looked like he had been pulled out of the water and wrung out, his skin and flesh hanging loosely on his bones, lifeless.
He read the book Dumbledore gave him until almost 2 a. m. last night. After closing the book and lying down, his mind was filled with concepts like the flow of magic and the boundaries of consciousness. He tossed and turned and couldn't fall asleep.
The lake water on the ceiling changed from dark green to deep black and then back to dark green. He counted a hundred sheep, mentally walked the corridors of Hogwarts from the first floor to the Seventh Floor, and even recalled Snape's Potions Class, but he still couldn't fall asleep.
So I tried thinking about my classmates again, from Harry to Draco, from clothes to having no clothes at all, and I became even more unable to sleep.
He lay there until 5:30, when the sky began to lighten, Herman finally giving up.
Herman got out of bed, put on his school uniform, washed his face, and looked at his pale face in the mirror.
With his bluish-gray eye sockets, bloodless lips, and disheveled hair, he looked like Vampire who had just woken up. Herman even saw a shadow of the Gori, and he immediately perked up.
Since no one can sleep, then let's all stay awake.
Herman pushed open the door; the hallway was so quiet he could hear his own breathing.
He first walked to Harry's door across the street and knocked twice.
There was no response.
I knocked twice more, but still nothing.
He tried turning the doorknob; the door wasn't locked. He pushed it open a crack and peeked inside.
The blankets on the bed were neatly folded, and the desk was spotless; the person was nowhere to be found.
Herman stood at the door of the empty room for two seconds, a wave of regret washing over him.
If I had known Harry would get up so early, I should have knocked on her door sooner. Sharing happiness is better than keeping it to yourself; it's no fun being sleepless alone.
Herman then turned and walked to the middle of the corridor, stopped in front of Draco's door, and knocked three times.
There was silence inside the door for a few seconds, then a rustling sound came from inside, as if someone was groggily waking up from under the covers and fumbling for clothes. A few seconds later, the door was pulled open a crack from the inside.
Draco poked half her face out, her golden hair piled up messily on her head, her eyelids drooping, one eye half-open and half-closed, the other completely closed, the collar of her robe askew to one side, revealing half of her thin shoulder.
"What are you doing?" Her voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping against wood, each word trailing off with a long, drawn-out tone.
Herman stood pale-faced in the doorway, trying to look less like a walking corpse. "I was just worried about being late, so I called you early. Come on, let's go have breakfast."
Draco squinted at him for two seconds, as if trying to read something from his face.
But she was too tired, and her mind was three times slower than usual. In the end, she just mumbled "Wait for me" and closed the door.
About five minutes later, the door reopened.
Draco had already changed into her school uniform and tied her hair up haphazardly, but the sleepiness on her face hadn't subsided at all. She walked with unsteady steps, her eyes half-open as she followed Herman out of the common room.
The two walked through the empty underground corridor, climbed the stairs, passed through the Entrance Hall, and entered the Great Hall.
The Great Hall was completely empty.
The four long tables were bare, with nothing on them except candlesticks and napkins; the House-elf hadn't even started serving breakfast yet.
The stage was empty; the professors' chairs were neatly arranged, but there wasn't a single person in sight.
Draco stood beside the Slytherin table, looking at the empty surface and then at the unlit candles around her, finally waking up from her sleep mode.
She turned to look at Herman, her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes wide open. Although there was still a hint of confusion in her eyes, her expression was already very clear.
Draco realized why her magic alarm clock hadn't gone off: Herman had set it too early!
Herman looked at her expression, and a tightness appeared on the back of his neck.
"Well, Professor McGonagall doesn't like us Slytherin, she thinks we don't have the right attitude towards learning," he explained, trying to make his eyes widen as much as possible to appear sincere. "Let's go to class early today, shock her, and shatter her worldview!"
Draco watched as Herman forced an explanation, first yawning in a way that resembled breathing through his mouth.
She then glanced at Herman, then at the empty podium, and said coldly, "Don't you know that Professor McGonagall usually arrives just before class starts?"
She paused, a familiar sneer creeping into her voice, "Who are you trying to impress? That bespectacled nerd from Gryffindor, or that red-haired crybaby?"