Professor Vampire.

Chapter 230: It's summer again.

When the dark moon dissipated, Dracula had appeared in the death chamber of the Division of Mysteries.

He raised his sight and saw a figure in a magnificent red cloak, leaning against the archway with his chest clasped, seemingly completely unsurprised.

"So you knew I would disobey and enter within this archway?"

Feeling slightly amused, Dracula walked over to the other side of the archway and made the same motion of leaning against the door.

"Of course, after all, that's what I was doing." The hooded figure laughed, his laughter seemingly pleasant.

"Heh, so it really is true, as Niko said, that there is only one timeline in this world, and the forces of time automatically sew up the changes in between, right?" Dracula asked, "I don't quite understand how this complete cycle of time is actually formed."

"You should have figured it out, the past can be changed through time magic, otherwise there would be little point in the existence of time energy." The Hooded Man said, "As for this time loop, it is also naturally the result of time tinkering with-"

He turned around from the other side of the archway and walked over to Dracula's side, "Since I can go back and forth to this point in time from the past, I naturally have the certainty that the timeline will mend itself, and there's no need to dwell so much on the rest of it instead ..."

"Good, then I won't ask about that for now." Dracula said, "But I would like to know, in the end, what power did you use to pull me back from the other side? That so-called 'god of death' seemed surprised."

"You'll naturally know when it's time to know, telling now will only deprive you of the surprise you'll have when that day arrives in the future." The Hooded Man laughed.

"... Saying that halfway through the day is the same as not saying it at all." Dracula's mouth twitched.

"As unhappy as you may sound, I find it amusing." The Hood said pleasantly, "I can kind of understand why Dumbledore always likes to cover up his words, it's really fun to talk like this ..."

"You can shut up now ..." Dracula said through gritted teeth.

Just then, both men turned their heads at the same time towards the doorway of the death chamber they were in.

They both sensed that a couple of mutes were making their way here, and by now were standing inside the circular hall with its twelve constantly shifting portals.

"Well, it's about time for me to head back." The Hooded Man laughed softly and spoke, "There's no need for you to be upset ... might as well think about how depressing it is at this time, and how pleasant it will be on the day you return to the past in the future!"

Saying that, he lightly snapped his fingers.

"Right," before leaving, as if he suddenly remembered something, he suddenly said, "There's no need to think much about what happened today, just enjoy your professor life normally for the next year."

"There are quite a few interesting things inside Hogwarts Castle!"

As soon as the words fell from his lips, the Hood's figure abruptly disappeared into the Hall of Death as if he had never been there.

Dracula stared at the place where he disappeared for a moment, then smiled back and snapped his fingers in the same way.

The Dark Moon quietly floated behind him.

Before the mutineers entered the Death Chamber for inspection, Dracula's figure accompanied by the cool moonlight, returned to Hogwarts Castle, and once again sat on the couch in the office of the Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts ...

Although it was only a short day, Dracula's harvest was unexpectedly large.

It goes without saying that qualifying Peter Pediru's crime and restoring Sirius Black's reputation, and most importantly, he realized that the world was not as small and uninteresting as he once thought it was.

There were different worlds beyond his sight, and more delights waiting to be explored.

Dracula lowered his head and looked at the strand of dark gray among the crimson magic pulsing in the palm of his hand with amusement in his eyes.

If the so-called "Grim Reaper" was right, then some of the questions that had been asked would be answered....

Why do the many different types of dark energy, such as the dark energy of the Silence, the Soul Artifacts, and the magic power of the Blood Clan, have the same nature?

Probably because ... the power of darkness originated from the world behind the archway, so it was able to seek the help of the god of death and borrow the purest power of death.

In this way, some of the things that were originally not understood made just as much sense.

The despicable Helpo had been sealed in the secret realm on the summit of Mount Olympus for thousands of years, and had been killed countless times by Andros, but his power had never faded, and he had gradually forced Andros to gamble on the beliefs and future of the Greek magic world in order to suppress him.

Helpo must have borrowed the power of death.

Then, without traveling to the Death Chamber of the Department of Mysteries, how could one connect to the world behind the archway and borrow the power of death?

Dracula thoughtfully rummaged around in his coat pocket for a while and took out a locket from it.

It was the locket of Slytherin from over a thousand years ago, which Voldemort had later crafted into a Horcrux, and which had been removed by Regulus at the cost of his life, and which had ended up in Dracula's hands.

He gazed quietly at the locket in his hand, the corner of his mouth gradually evoking a tantalizing smile.

To create a soul weapon, one needed to rely on killing to split the soul.

And the process of killing and splitting souls would obviously also send a deceased soul to the world of the dead.

This was the closest the current black sorcerer could get to the world of the dead except before they passed away completely.

And after their accidental death, even if they can rely on their soul artifacts to turn into residual souls to live on, the world of the dead will still open its doors to them ... This is the best time to borrow the power of the dead.

It can be imagined that Helbo has borrowed the power of the God of Death at the time of death several times and three times, so that he has not been weakened in countless deaths, but has gradually pushed back against Andros.

Thinking of this, Dracula frowned slightly.

If this inference was valid ... then the time for Voldemort to recover his power would most likely be a little faster than he had imagined.

...

On the last day of the semester, Hogwarts announced the exam results.

Hermione got a distinction in all twelve of her classes, while Harry and Ron were lucky enough to pass every class.

Harry couldn't believe that he had passed his Potions exams, he couldn't believe that Snape would let him pass, and even suspected that Dumbledore had intervened and not allowed Snape to have his way with him.

In the last few weeks, he had no idea what was going on and Snape's attitude towards Harry was quite frightening.

Harry, of course, could not have imagined that because of what happened with Sirius and Peter, the wounds that were buried deep among Snape's heart were once again stung. Snape felt a pang of guilt and pain drilling through him every time he saw Harry, especially in his eyes.

For this reason, every time Snape encountered Harry, one of the muscles next to his thin lips twisted unpleasantly, and he kept flexing his fingers as if he hated to choke Harry.

It was to protect the boy that Lily had sacrificed herself at the hands of Voldemort.

Snape thought this, but he didn't tell anyone about it.

Percy, as Student Council President, had lived up to his reputation by passing the Advanced Wizarding Level Exam(s); and fifth years Fred and George had each barely scraped together a handful of Ordinary Wizarding Level Exam(s) (0. W. Ls) certificates.

This year, Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts scores, driven by the Dueling Club, and facilitated by the Devil's Training, managed to set an all-time high in thirty years, blowing the minds of the many other wizarding schools waiting to see the joke.

Meanwhile, the Gryffindor Quidditch team rightfully won this year's Quidditch tournament, thanks to Harry's excellent form and the top-notch hardware of the Firebolt!

Captain Wood, who was about to graduate, was overjoyed and treated all the team members to a big dinner at Hogsmeade.

Because of the massive bonus points from the Quidditch Cup, Gryffindor House also won the House Cup as a matter of course. This meant that the end of term feast was decorated in red and gold, and it also meant that the Gryffindor House table was extra busy because everyone was celebrating.

The next day, students who had partied the night away rose from their beds in a daze, carrying their bags from the castle's north gates to the Night Tiffin Carriage, which in turn drove them to Hogsmeade Station.

Harry and Ron were staring at Hermione with stunned faces as the Hogwarts Express left the station.

"I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast." Hermione said, "I've decided not to take the Muggle Studies and Divination classes."

"Divination is fine, but you got a perfect score on your Muggle Studies exam!" Ron said in surprise.

"I know," Hermione said with a sigh, "but I can't take another year like this one. You guys have no idea what I've been through, and I'm probably going to go crazy if this keeps up."

Of course, there was another reason why she hadn't told her two little friends - the

The Ministry of Magic had suddenly recalled all the time converters.

Professor McGonagall's explanation to her was that the Ministry of Magic had somehow lost a time converter, and the staff there couldn't even figure out when they lost it.

As a precautionary measure, they had decided to take back the time converters given to the students to prevent any unknown surprises.

Hermione thought that was good, at least she would be able to have a regular schedule of classes.

She looked back to Harry, who was gazing at the Hogwarts castle obscured from view by a mountain.

He was a little sad that seeing Hogwarts again was going to be another two whole months of misery ...

"Harry, why don't you seem too happy?" Hermione asked, "Aren't you going to live with your godfather?"

"Don't mention it," Harry said somberly, "Dumbledore said that although Sirius's warrant at the Ministry of Magic was lifted, the Ministry had notified the Muggle side a long time ago. The warrant over there isn't very well handled ..."

"But Sirius can wear a mask, or just ask Fred and George for some random magic props." Ron said, "As long as you guys don't actively expose yourselves out there won't that be fine?"

"That's what I thought." Harry sighed, "But Dumbledore said nothing, and I don't know what he was thinking."

"Oh cheer up Harry!" Hermione said sympathetically.

"I'm fine," Harry said dryly, "It's been so many years anyway."

"By the way, Sirius has a warrant, but we don't have one at home!" Ron said happily, "Harry, you must come and stay with us on your vacation. I'll talk to Mom and Dad and then I'll call 'drop the word' for you. Now I know how to call off the phone ..."

"It's phone calls, Ron," Hermione corrected, "Seriously, you should take Muggle Studies next year ..."

Ron rolled his eyes and ignored her.

"There's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry?" He asked cheerfully, "Come stay at my house and we'll go to the games together! Dad always gets tickets from the flat."

The suggestion cheered Harry up again.

"Right! I bet the Dursleys would be happy to let me go ... especially after what I did to Aunt Maggie!"

As he said this, he pulled out a paper and pen, "I guess I could also ask Sirius if he wants to come along, there's always no muggles showing up for the Quidditch World Cup, right?"

After the train arrived, Harry saw Aunt Vernon and Aunt Peggy outside the station.

Aunt Vernon and the others were standing quite a distance away from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, eyeing them suspiciously from time to time, feeling that the two were dressed a little incongruously compared to the others.

Aunt Vernon's suspicions about them seemed to be confirmed when Mrs. Weasley embraced Harry in welcome.

"I'll call about the World Cup!" Ron yelled from behind Harry.

Harry nodded at Ron and turned to say goodbye to Hermione again before pushing his trunk and carrying Hedwig's cage towards Aunt Vernon.

Aunt Vernon greeted him in the usual way.

"What was that?" He growled, glaring at the letterhead Harry had crumpled in his hand and hadn't gotten around to sending to Sirius, "If that's another form for me to sign, don't even think about it ..."

"It's not a form," Harry said with a smirk, "It's a letter I'm going to send to my godfather!"

"Godfather?" Aunt Vernon's spittle flew, "You don't have any godfather!"

"No, I do," Harry suddenly had a brilliant idea, "He's my mom and my dad's best friend. Oh yeah, maybe you know ... him too you should have heard the name Sirius Black, there's information about him in the papers and on TV, he's a convicted and wanted criminal."

"Actually, he's not just a prisoner on the muggle side, he's a criminal in the magical world who has now escaped the magical prison. The Ministry of Magic can't even do anything about him, so they have to turn to the Muggle government for help."

"Sirius is happy to keep in touch with me and see if I'm having a good time by ... keeping tabs on me all the time!"

Harry laughed heartily at the look of fear on Aunt Vernon's face.

He pushed his bags towards the exit of the station, Hedwig flying lightly ahead of him, and together they went off to what looked like it was going to be a much better summer than last year.