After the opening banquet, Professor Dumbledore stood up again, and the hall returned to silence.
He gave the young wizards some precautions, telling them not to go to the Forbidden Forest and not to cast spells in the corridor.
Dumbledore's expression was not very serious, and these reminders were probably of no use.
At least when Dracula, who was sitting in the professor's seat, glanced at the audience, he could clearly see the eagerness in the eyes of many young Gryffindor wizards.
After saying the precautions and a notice, Dumbledore's expression suddenly became serious.
"Finally, I must tell everyone that if you don't want to encounter an accident and a painful death, please do not enter the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor." He said seriously.
There seemed to be a few laughs from the audience, as if they thought Dumbledore was joking.
Dracula turned his gaze curiously to the short Professor Flitwick beside him and asked, "He doesn't look like he's joking."
"Oh! That's not it." Professor Flitwick replied in his characteristic sharp voice, "Albus seems to want to protect something. Some time ago, he asked several of us main professors to set up some interesting levels to prevent that thing from being stolen by thieves."
"Oh? How come I didn't know about this? Isn't Defense Against the Dark Arts a core subject?" Dracula asked.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts is of course a main course! Well, even though I haven't enjoyed the treatment of a main course in the past few decades..." Professor Flitwick stroked his mustache and said awkwardly, "But it's normal that you don't know about this, Professor Dracula. You were away when Albus asked someone to set up the level, so he asked Quirrell to set it up for you."
"I see." Dracula nodded.
The next moment, he saw the smile on Professor Flitwick's face froze.
Standing in the middle of the professors' seats, Dumbledore faced all the students and flicked his wand lightly. A long golden ribbon flew out of the wand and twisted like a snake high above the dining table, forming lines of text.
"Each of you choose a tune of your choice," said Dumbledore. "Ready, sing!"
Hearing the "singing" of all the teachers and students, Dracula's expression froze.
"Wait, a thousand years have passed, and no one has composed a song for the Hogwarts school song?!"
Amid the noisy, quarrel-like "singing", Dracula asked loudly to Professor Flitwick beside him.
Professor Flitwick was too happy not to sing along with everyone else. He stood on his chair and said just as loudly, "Every headmaster thinks this is a Hogwarts tradition that no one wants to break!"
Dracula remained silent, not knowing what expression to make.
He still vaguely remembered that Ravenclaw had written the lyrics of the Hogwarts school song a thousand years ago. However, considering that the music in Britain at that time was still very backward, people at that time could only play bagpipes and monochords.
In order to prevent the school song from lowering the style of Hogwarts too much, the four founders passed down the lyrics separately, hoping that outstanding wizard composers in the future would compose a moving song for the Hogwarts school song.
Who would have thought that the subsequent principals would take the fact that they did not compose for the school song as the founder's intention and always follow the tradition of free tunes, which even continues today, a thousand years later...
…
Dracula forced himself to listen to the school song and returned to his office.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office is located on the third floor, connected to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the second floor. Every time a class is held, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor only needs to open the side door of the office and walk down a short flight of stairs to easily reach the classroom.
Dracula was not sure whether this layout had always been like this, or whether Dumbledore had specially arranged it to guard against his habit of jumping out of the window...
In an office decorated in a dark aesthetic style, Dracula met his teaching assistant Quirrell.
“So your way of getting rid of garlic smell is to cover it up with a worse stench??”
Before Quirrell came in, Dracula frowned and set up a dark barrier, locking him tightly behind the barrier.
"Professor Dracula, you have to be considerate of me." Quirrell stood behind the barrier and stammered. "Because I met a vampire in Romania, in order to prevent him from coming to me, I can only do this."
Dracula's eyes moved slightly when he heard Quirrell's reason.
"Have you seen the Romanian vampires?" he asked curiously.
"Yes, it is."
"How are they doing now?" Dracula's attitude became a little more serious. He sat up straight from the back of his chair and looked at Quirrell.
"What...what's going on?" Quirrell looked at him blankly.
"Their behavior habits, ways of doing things, mental outlook, the prosperity of their tribe, and so on." Dracula showed what he thought was a pretty kind smile, and even endured the stench as he let Quirrell into the office from behind the barrier. "Don't be too stressed, just talk about it casually."
"Um..." Quirrell was a little dazed, and stammered, "It's... it's no different from usual. The vampire is still... still as cruel as before, with a blue face, ugly... ugly, and thin body..."
"When he saw me, he rushed over and wanted to suck my blood. I... I didn't want to, so I... I started fighting with him. We fought for a long time, and I used... I used a spell to drive him away..."
"That's enough, it's all bullshit!"
The more Dracula listened, the darker his face became, until he couldn't bear it anymore and slapped him out the door.
"I don't care what excuse you give me, I'll either get rid of the smell or fire you, choose one!"
Quirrell fell out the door and hit the back of his head hard on the corridor pillar.
He stretched out his hand to rub his aching head, but when his hand was halfway there, a faint vicious curse rang out in his mind.
Quirrell quickly withdrew his hand that was almost pressing on the back of his head, stood up and left Dracula's office in despair.
However, he had only taken a few steps when he was suddenly grabbed back by an invisible big hand.
"One more thing." Dracula once again laid out a barrier to block out odors, and asked from behind the barrier, "I heard that you set up levels for what Dumbledore wants to protect? Do you know what he wants to protect?"
Hearing Dracula's question, Quirrell's whole body tensed up.
"I... I'm not sure. I'm only responsible for setting up the checkpoints." He said cautiously.
"I guess you don't know either." Dracula curled his lips, "So what is arranged in the level?"
"A... a giant monster."
Quirrell was thrown out of the office again and his head hit the same pillar.
"I was wondering how you could stink so badly, turns out it's the smell of a troll." Dracula frowned in disgust.
"Throw your troll out of Hogwarts right now. I'll set up the level!"
…
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