Professor Vampire.

Chapter 84: Blue Danube

On a deserted island in the Black Lake, a sudden scream pierced the silence.

"Ah ah ah ah—wuwu!"

Caught off guard by a sudden Disapparation, Lockhart fell heavily to the ground, his handsome face smashing into the soft, wet earth.

He pulled his face out of the mud with no regard for his appearance, coughed awkwardly a couple of times, and spat the dirt out onto the ground.

"I... I'm telling you, such sneak attacks are unethical! You're not fit to be a professor at Hogwarts!" Lockhart pushed aside the mud-smeared golden hair and faced Dracula with his dirt-stained face. "I'm telling you, you've just angered the greatest Dark Arts Defense expert in the world!"

"Then let me ask," Dracula said with a smirk, "how could the greatest expert in the world fail to handle a simple Disapparation?"

"Is it my fault that I failed? No, it's not!" Lockhart insisted, "It's because you're not following the rules of combat! To ambush someone like me, who has immense trust in his fans, is just playing dirty! You could never even touch a hair on my head in a fair fight!"

Dracula twitched at the corner of his mouth. He was surprised that Lockhart could still be so stubborn even in this situation.

"Then, as you wish, great Defense Against the Dark Arts expert," he said with a gesture, "show me what a so-called member of the Anti-Dark Magic Alliance is truly capable of in a fair duel."

Lockhart's expression turned serious, and he looked resolute.

However, with most of his face covered in mud, his serious expression looked more comical than solemn.

He fumbled in his pockets with his dirty hands for a while before finally pulling out his expensive cherry wood wand, trembling as he pointed it at Dracula.

"Don't regret this! If you don't want to face the wrath of the world's greatest Dark Arts Defense Master, hurry up and apologize and surrender! As a fan of mine, I might forgive you!" Lockhart declared with a mixture of sternness and weakness.

"Get on with it, or you'll lose your chance," Dracula said impatiently, crossing his arms.

Seeing that Dracula showed no signs of changing his attitude, Lockhart gritted his teeth.

He pondered for a while, then finally thought of an attack spell, and resolutely waved his wand—

"Indio!"

"..."

Dracula watched as a tiny, weak flame emerged from the tip of Lockhart's wand...

A cold breeze blew across the island, causing the tiny flame to flicker unsteadily, seemingly on the verge of extinguishing at any moment.

"Is this the Fire-Making Spell?" Dracula said, nearly laughing as he looked at the flame. "If I had a cigar, would you come and light it for me?"

Lockhart's expression, along with the mud on his face, froze in place.

He hadn't expected to forget even the most basic Fire-Making Spell.

"Uh... well, I was just trying to lighten the mood, haha..." Lockhart said awkwardly, putting away his wand. "You know, as a well-mannered celebrity, I'm very fond of my fans. How could I possibly attack one of my own fans?"

"I remember you just said you were an author. How did you become a celebrity now?" Dracula asked with a sarcastic smile.

"You don't understand, there's a difference between a flop author and a great author!" Lockhart seemed to regain some of his confidence, puffing out his chest and adjusting his luxurious robe. "And those celebrities in the magical world who sing and act have no cultural literacy, unlike me, a wizard with substance who writes books to broaden people's horizons!"

"By the way, can I leave now?"

As he asked, he took a few steps, intending to sneak away from Dracula.

But the next moment, the air suddenly grew colder, as if returning to the coldest days of winter, and Lockhart shivered from the freezing cold.

"Did I tell you to leave?" Dracula's expression had suddenly turned cold.

The water of the Black Lake, which had quietly seeped onto the island, climbed up Lockhart's legs and froze him to the muddy ground.

"Don't get excited, Professor Dracula!" Seeing the ice spreading to his chest, and feeling numb below his chest, Lockhart finally showed a look of panic on his face. "I... I was wrong. Please, spare me this time!"

"Tell me, how did you write the experiences in your books?" Dracula raised his hand, stopping the spread of the ice temporarily, and walked slowly toward Lockhart.

"It's all my fault, Professor Dracula..." Lockhart, feeling his legs losing sensation, said with a worried expression. "But I did it to write books! If people didn't think those things were done by me, book sales would be much lower—"

"Readers wouldn't want to read about the deeds of an ugly old American wizard, even if he drove werewolves away from a village. If his photo were on the cover, no one would even want to open the book! And that old witch who drove away the Vanara, she had a gap-toothed grin! Just think..."

"I'm not interested in what you've told me, nor do I care about how you've claimed others' achievements as your own," Dracula said impatiently, moving his finger. The ice on Lockhart's body spread another inch upward, making him shut up immediately.

"I only need you to directly tell me how 'Traveling with Vampires' was written."

"Oh, so you're interested in that book? It's the same story. The protagonist was originally just an old man hiding in the deep mountains growing vegetables, who wouldn't attract any interest!" Lockhart didn't understand Dracula's question and just kept complaining and shifting blame.

"You must understand, Professor Dracula. My job is not as easy as everyone thinks— I have to track down these people, ask them how they accomplished those things, and then perform a Memory Charm to make them forget it completely."

"I've worked so hard for fame! I believe that as a Hogwarts professor, you must be a righteous person. I have nothing to say if someone like you catches me, but please pity the effort I've put in and let me go!"

After speaking a lengthy discourse, he sighed weakly, looking at Dracula with hopeful eyes. Due to his preconceptions, he still didn't believe that a Hogwarts professor would cause him harm.

Yet all he saw was indifferent detachment.

The next moment, the ice completely covered Lockhart's body, leaving only his mud-streaked head exposed.

"Good person? I think you may have misunderstood me," Dracula said coldly, curling his lips. "If you don't know anything, then what use is your life to me?"

As Dracula's voice fell, the icy layer began to rise again.

"Wait... wait, I'm still useful, I really am!" Lockhart, feeling the threat to his life, shouted in panic. "I can find out, I can find out everything!"

At this moment, he finally realized that the Dark Arts Defense professor in front of him was not like the upright and kind professors of Hogwarts he had imagined!

This Professor Dracula seemed to care nothing for the rules of the magical world, and would act immediately. Lockhart knew that his life was truly in danger!

The bone-chilling ice stopped moving upward.

"One last chance," Dracula's voice was soft but eerily cold. "Tell me, what use are you to me?"

"I... I can find the memory of the old man who traveled with the vampire..." Lockhart swallowed, but the saliva hadn't gone down before it turned into ice, making his expression even more pained. "My memory magic has always been excellent. If I try hard to recall, I'll definitely be able to find the old man's memory completely!"

"I hope so," Dracula said. "You have one minute."

Lockhart closed his eyes tightly, furrowing his brows, his face as pale as paper.

Dracula, meanwhile, relaxed against the ice pillar that Lockhart was frozen into.

A wave of lake water perfectly rose and splashed against Dracula's back, solidifying into a gracefully curved ice sheet just before touching his black-red cloak, supporting Dracula's tilted body.

Dracula took out a goblet and a bottle of brightly colored red wine from his pocket, savoring it slowly.

...

A minute passed in the blink of an eye.

Driven by an intense desire to survive, Lockhart opened his eyes on time and took deep breaths.

"Have you found his memory?" Dracula asked, reclining on the ice sheet formed by the waves, sipping from his goblet.

Lockhart nodded with difficulty.

"I remembered. The old man's name was Robert, a former Auror captain from Serbia. After retirement, he no longer wanted to live a life of conflict and chose to hide alone in the rarely visited mountains, leading a life of farming."

He narrated—

After retiring, the former Auror Robert from Serbia was tired of conflict and hid alone in a forest. He had no descendants, no relatives, and no friends, so he thought he would live out his days in solitude.

One day, while he was diligently farming, an injured vampire stumbled into his secluded forest.

Due to the usual wizarding prejudice against vampires, Robert pulled out a wand he hadn't used in a long time, intending to fight the intruding vampire to the death.

However, the vampire had no desire to fight; he merely begged Robert for some food to replenish his critically depleted energy.

Tired of fighting, Robert agreed and took out a large amount of lettuce from his storehouse. It was freshly harvested, in abundance, and too much to consume.

The vampire bit into the lettuce one after another. However,