Professor Vampire.

Chapter 106: It's a bad week for everything.

Despite only having three days of classes during the first week of school, Harry felt he had endured an extremely tough week.

On his first day at Hogwarts, he encountered an unexpected problem: the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 was blocked, preventing him from taking the Hogwarts Express. After struggling to come up with the idea of driving to the castle, he crashed the car into the Whomping Willow, getting pummeled for a while and even losing Mr. Weasley's car...

Had Mr. Weasley not later sent a letter to Ron saying that they had handled it well and that the Weasley family had unexpectedly received a luxury car from Professor Dracula called the "Rolls-Lyce," Harry would have felt even more guilty.

On the second day of school, Ron received a howler from Mrs. Weasley and was trapped in a soundproof bubble by Professor Dracula, being bombarded by Mrs. Weasley's enraged shouting.

Moreover, even after several days, Hedwig was still angry at Harry for the disastrous flying car trip, and no amount of treats seemed to calm her down. To get back at Ron for driving, Hedwig almost snatched and ate his pet rat, Scabbers.

If Scabbers hadn't been smart enough to notice Hedwig's hostile gaze and hide in Ron's pants, Ron's pet rat, inherited from Percy, would have likely become something unspeakable that fell in front of Snape that day...

Ron and Harry even had a fight over the safety of Scabbers.

But these were minor issues compared to the real challenge: Professor Dracula's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which was hellish for Harry and the other young witches and wizards. The feeling of having every ounce of magical energy and stamina drained was something they never wanted to experience again!

Ron's first week was even worse.

After crashing the car into the Whomping Willow, Ron's old and worn wand, inherited from home, broke. The financially strained Weasley family couldn't afford a new wand for Ron, and even if they had the money, Mrs. Weasley would surely refuse to buy a new wand for Ron after such a major mistake.

Unable to get a new wand, Ron had to use magical tape to piece his wand back together, thinking he could make do with it for the semester.

However, if magical tape alone could fix wands, there would be no need for wandmakers in the magical world. Ron's wand clearly did not return to normal, making crackling noises and emitting sparks from time to time.

Especially in Friday morning's spell class, when Ron cast a spell, his wand suddenly flew out of his hand and hit Professor Flitwick on the forehead.

Professor Flitwick let out a yelp, and a large green bump immediately appeared on his forehead, pulsating.

As a result, Professor Flitwick rarelly deducted points from Gryffindor.

As for the nightmarish Defense Against the Dark Arts class, it's needless to say that Ron's wand caused him great trouble. He couldn't even manage the simplest spells.

Given this situation, Professor Dracula paid special attention to Ron, occasionally casting small punitive spells on him, forcing Ron to use his broken wand to cast spells...

After enduring such trials, Harry and Ron were very relieved to finally reach Friday night.

The two of them, exhausted, lay in bed and fell into a deep sleep, hoping to recover from the grievances of the past half-week in their dreams!

...

Early the next morning, Harry was jolted awake by a large figure. He had hoped to sleep a few more hours, straight through to noon.

"Wh...what's going on?" Harry mumbled, squinting.

"Quidditch practice!" the large figure said, "Get up!"

Harry rubbed his eyes, reluctantly opened them, and looked at the light outside, wondering if he had slept too long and lost track of time.

Outside the Gryffindor dormitory window, the sky was covered with a thin mist of pink and pale gold, with crisp birdsong drifting in.

"Oliver," Harry looked at the burly figure next to him, realizing it was his Quidditch team captain, Oliver Wood, "It's barely dawn. Did you get the time wrong?"

"I didn't get the time wrong!" Wood's eyes were gleaming with enthusiasm.

"This is part of our new training plan. Hurry up, grab your broom, and come with me," Wood urged eagerly, "Other teams haven't started training yet. We need to outwork them and defend our Quidditch Cup!"

"Oliver, how do you have so much energy..." Harry looked incredulously at Wood's fervent expression, "Even Professor Dracula's extreme Defense Against the Dark Arts class doesn't seem to have worn you out?"

"I have to admit, Professor Dracula's classes are really painful," Wood admitted, his eyes reflecting some dread but also a strange sense of comfort.

"But after the suffering, I found that my endurance has significantly improved from yesterday's Quidditch practice! It's more progress than I made all last year!" he said, "So I realized that only extreme training can lead to greater improvement. From now on, our Quidditch training should be as intense as Professor Dracula's Defense Against the Dark Arts class!"

Seeing Wood's serious expression, Harry was horrified to realize he wasn't joking!

"Oliver, I want to ask you something..." Harry swallowed nervously, "You really don't have a masochistic streak, do you?"

Wood: "..."

...

Ultimately, Harry decided to follow Wood's plan and go to Quidditch practice.

He yawned, still feeling the effects of the Defense Against the Dark Arts practical training, and shakily got out of bed, starting to look for his team uniform.

When Harry arrived at the stadium, the other members of the Gryffindor team were already in the locker room.

He was relieved to see that only Wood was fully awake. Fred and George seemed to have not recovered from the torment of the Dark Arts Defense class; they sat there, listless, with swollen eyes and disheveled hair.

The female players, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson, sat opposite, yawning repeatedly.

Seeing that everyone had arrived, Wood held up a large diagram of the Quidditch pitch, marked with various colored lines, arrows, and Xs. He took out his wand and pointed at the diagram, causing the arrows to wriggle across the board like caterpillars.

In front of the drowsy Gryffindor players, Wood began explaining his new tactics. In fact, no one was able to take it in.

An hour later, amidst the snoring in the locker room, Wood, engrossed in his own tactics, clapped his hands.

"This is the overall strategy!" he finally said. "Do you have any other questions?"

"Zzz... Zzz..."

"Didn't you hear a single word of the strategy I painstakingly explained?!" he said angrily.

"It's not that we didn't hear a single word..." Fred rubbed his bleary eyes, lifting his head from Angelina's shoulder. "I did hear one thing — 'this is the overall strategy.' How's that? Did I get it right?"

Seeing the indifference on the team's faces, Wood was somewhat displeased.

"Listen up, folks," he said with a serious face, "Last year, thanks to a bit of luck and our absolute strength, we won the Quidditch Cup. That was great!"

"But this year our task is even tougher. Other teams won't be standing still, and we have to put in a hundred times more effort to defend our championship!"

"Enough said. Now let's put the new theory into practice!" Wood shouted, grabbing his broom and leading the way out of the locker room.

The players followed behind, yawning and dragging their tired legs...

However, this week seemed destined to be problematic for Harry.

After they explained the tactics, and not long into the training, a group of Slytherin Quidditch players showed up.

At Hogwarts, there's a centuries-old tradition that when lions and snakes meet, a fight is bound to break out!

Sure enough, a confrontation ensued immediately after the two teams met.

Wood believed he had booked the pitch, but Slytherin's captain Marcus Flint produced a note signed by Snape —

"I, S. Snape, professor, permit the Slytherin team to practice on the Quidditch pitch today to train their new Seeker."

He read the note aloud with an air of superiority.

The Gryffindor players then discovered that Draco Malfoy, a second-year student, had become Slytherin's new Seeker.

And he hadn't become a Seeker on his own merit but through the influence of his wealthy father, Lucius Malfoy —

Lucius donated seven of the latest Firebolt 2001 brooms to the Slytherin team, using his financial power to get Draco onto the team.

Naturally, the Slytherin team began mocking the Gryffindor players' old Cleansweep Sevens, while Hermione sharply criticized Draco Malfoy for buying his way onto the team.

Draco was not pleased and uttered the most offensive term —

"No one asked you, you filthy little mudblood," he said harshly.

The term "mudblood," a derogatory word for Muggle-born witches and wizards, ignited the battlefield, and Gryffindor wizards roared as they charged at the Slytherins.

Flint had to block Draco to prevent Fred and George from pouncing on him.

Ron, who had come with Hermione to watch Harry's training, angrily drew his tattered wand from his robe and shouted, "You're going to pay for that, Malfoy!"

In his fury, Ron aimed his wand at Draco's face —

"Slug-vomiting Charm!"

Ron, in extreme anger, used a powerful version of the spell Fred and George had taught him...

...And hit himself accurately.

A huge explosion rang out across the pitch, a green light shot from the end of Ron's wand, hitting his abdomen, causing him to stagger two steps and fall to the ground.

"Ron! Ron! Are you okay?" Hermione crouched down, worried.

Ron opened his mouth to speak but instead belched loudly, disgorging several fat, slimy slugs onto his thigh.

Seeing this, the Slytherin players burst into laughter.

Flint laughed so hard he couldn't stand up, leaning on his Firebolt 2001. Draco laughed on the ground, pounding the ground with his fists.

The Gryffindor players looked worried and gathered around Ron, but seeing him continuously spewing shiny, slimy slugs, no one wanted to touch him.

"Fred, George, you're his brothers, help him to the hospital wing," Wood said heavily, patting the Weasley twins on the shoulder.

"That, um... Captain, I think it's fine to just leave little Ron here," Fred said, glancing at Ron with distaste, taking a small step back. "If we drag him to the hospital wing on the fourth floor, he might spew slugs all the way, and that would just give Snape a chance to take points from our house."

"Ron, hang in there, you can do it!" George, matching Fred's retreat, took a step back and gave Ron a thumbs-up. "Well done, Ron, at least you've shown us that you learned the dark spell we taught you!"

Seeing his unreliable brothers, Harry gritted his teeth and stepped up to Ron.

"We'd better take him to Hagrid's; it's closer," he said to Hermione.

Hermione bravely nodded and, with Harry, gritted her teeth and dragged Ron to his feet.

Fred was right; Ron indeed left a trail of slugs all the way. Fortunately, the Quidditch pitch was far from Hogwarts Castle, so it wasn't too far to Hagrid's hut.

Harry and Hermione quickly got Ron to Hagrid's hut, leaving a long, slimy trail behind...

Just as they were standing at the door of Hagrid's hut, ready to knock, a silver-haired figure suddenly opened the door and walked out.

Seeing the figure, Harry and Hermione were overjoyed.

"Professor Dracula, Ron has been hit by the slug-vomiting charm. Can you help him?" Hermione asked hopefully.

Dracula looked at the three little wizards with some surprise and then glanced at Ron with interest.

"Of course, the counter-curse is actually quite simple," he said casually, raising his hand to perform the counter-curse.

At that moment, Ron couldn't hold it any longer and vomited another shiny slug, which happened to land on Dracula's shoe.

The air went eerily silent.

Dracula's hand stopped mid-air.

"I suddenly forgot the counter-curse for the slug-vomiting charm," he said coldly.