Hogwarts vampire professor

On the morning of the second day of school, Harry had his long-awaited first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

In order to avoid repeating the mistake of almost being late for Transfiguration class on the first day, Harry pulled Ron out of bed early, crossed the steps that would suddenly disappear, and was the first to arrive at the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. .

"Harry, why did we come so early?" Ron lay on the table and yawned, complaining, "If you ask me, we should sleep a little longer."

"Fred and George told me that the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors can only teach us for a year at most, so no matter what kind of people these professors are, as long as we survive one year, we will be fine, and we don't have to worry about them looking for trouble! "

"That's not the case, Ron!" Harry immediately retorted, "I met Professor Dracula when I was buying wands at Ollivanders. He is really tall and handsome, and the most important thing is that he is not afraid of Voldemort. .Professor Dracula must be a very powerful wizard!”

Hearing the terrifying name "Voldemort", Ron shuddered and immediately stopped feeling sleepy.

"I can't believe that besides you, the one who defeated the mysterious man, there are other wizards who are not afraid of him!" He opened his eyes wide in surprise.

While the two were talking, another little wizard walked into the classroom holding a pile of books.

This is a little witch. She has long, messy, thick brown hair and a pair of large front teeth. She looks like an enlarged beaver.

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley?" Seeing Harry and Ron arriving in the classroom first, the little witch seemed a little surprised, "Why are you here?"

"Are you saying it's impossible for us to come to class early, Granger?" Ron frowned, as if the idea of ​​coming to class early was his.

"Oh, that's not what I meant." Hermione said as she placed a large pile of books in her arms on the table closest to the podium in the first row. "I'm just... a little surprised. You know, It’s true that you arrived at the Transfiguration classroom a bit late yesterday.”

Ron felt a little embarrassed and retorted harshly, "We were lost! Do you understand that we are lost?"

Just then, Harry pulled him.

Ron raised his head and saw a strange wizard wearing a purple turban and a pale face walking into the classroom and standing behind the desk.

"Is this the tall, handsome and powerful Professor Dracula you mentioned? Why does he look so weak..." He complained to Harry in a low voice.

"I also met this professor in the Leaky Cauldron. He should be Professor Quirrell. Professor Dracula would not be so weak." Harry said, looking at Quirrell's trembling appearance.

Then, he said in confusion, "But Professor Dracula was clearly present at the opening party the night before yesterday. Why did Professor Quirrell come to teach us in the end?"

Ron stared at Quirrell carefully for a while, then sniffed: "Harry, did you smell a very strong and fragrant smell on Professor Quirrell?"

"I smell it too, and I think I know what it is." Harry also whispered, "This should be the smell of perfume. My uncle sprays a lot of it on his face every time he goes to see a client. Although Professor Quirrell The smell on my body is much stronger than the spray he sprayed on me!"

"Why are you spraying such a foul-smelling thing? I'm about to suffocate." Ron rolled his eyes and made a retching expression.

He moved the textbooks and sneaked to the last row of the classroom with Harry to sit down, and then he felt a little better.

"Maybe...men with weak kidneys need this kind of thing to increase their confidence?" Harry guessed after finally catching his breath.

"..."

As the little wizards came to the classroom one after another, the bell tower of Hogwarts rang the melodious class bell.

Quirrell spread out the lesson plan and stammered to the students:

"Good morning to everyone, I am Teacher Qi Qiluo. Today I am here to give you a Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

Harry, who had endured the unpleasant smell of perfume for a long time, immediately raised his hands.

"Mr...Potter?" Quirrell looked at him.

"Professor Quirrell, I want to know why Professor Dracula is not teaching us." Harry mustered up the courage to finish the sentence in one breath, and then looked at Quirrell nervously.

Hearing Harry's question, the little wizards in the classroom also looked at Quirrell expectantly.

Among them, the girls who were keen on Dracula's appearance and the students who sat closer to Quirrell, the source of the perfume, were most eager for Professor Dracula to come to the classroom.

"De...Professor Dracula?" Quirrell was stunned for a moment, and then explained tremblingly, "He...after yesterday's teaching, he was very dissatisfied with the...teaching at Hogwarts, so...just let me Let’s teach him for a few days first.”

Suddenly there was a cry in the classroom.

Quirrell didn't care so much and started teaching conscientiously.

Of course, what he meant by lecturing was stumblingly reading out the contents of the textbooks and lesson plans, and from time to time he was frightened by the little movements of some students under the podium.

In just one lesson, Quirrell became the laughing stock of the two young wizards in the academy.

…

At this moment, Dracula, who allowed his teaching assistant to have fun, was not at Hogwarts.

In Paris, at the Opéra Garnier, all the audience watched the performance on the stage attentively, showing knowing smiles from time to time.

The performance had just begun, but next to a white-haired old man, several audience members hurriedly left the theater as if they suddenly thought of something urgent.

No one present noticed that a dark moon, accompanied by the shadows of several bats flying by, suddenly appeared in the newly vacated space.

The dark moon faded, and a silver-haired figure leaned lazily on the back of the luxurious chair, crossed his legs, and sat down next to the old man.

"Oh, Dracula, those audiences paid money to watch the show." The old man turned his head and glanced reproachfully at the vampire professor who suddenly appeared, "Why did you use the Muggle expulsion spell to drive them away? Woolen cloth?"

"Whether they pay or not has nothing to do with me. I'm not you. I've developed a habit of watching dramas over the years." Dracula curled his lips.

Then he sat upright and said, "Old guy, I came here just to ask you if there is anything you are hiding from me?"

"What is our relationship? How could I hide it from you?" Nico looked innocent.

"I lent you all the magic stones that you need to survive, and you didn't hide it from me?!" Dracula couldn't hold back and amplified his voice.

Nico was startled and hurriedly placed a soundproof spell around it, trapping Dracula's voice inside.

Then he looked at his best friend of hundreds of years and complained dissatisfiedly:

"It's true Albus, you guessed it so quickly..."

…

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