Professor Vampire.

Chapter 176: Chapter 176 Teenage angst

When the willows fluttered in March at Hogwarts, spring was undeniably here.

New shoots sprouted from the thick or tender branches of the Beater Willow, as if some new life was brewing.

The ice on the Black Lake first cracked a few cracks, then melted in the gradually warm spring breeze, turning into a piece of ice slag, drifting on the surface of the lake that was still a little chilly.

The lawn around the castle was once again flooded with the color of emerald green, and the young wizards who had changed into their thin wizard robes were frolicking and playing on the lawn.

After the Christmas vacation, and just another two months or so of classes at Hogwarts, the Easter vacation came.

Unlike the Christmas holiday where families reunite, very few young wizards would choose to go home during the Easter holiday.

This was because the holiday wasn't that long in the first place, and it wasn't worth it for most of the young wizards to cross the distance from Scotland to England to make a special trip home.

Plus, Easter was so close to finals week in June that professors tended to assign a lot of homework over Easter break in order to prevent these youngsters with little self-control from going crazy for the entire break and forgetting to study.

Whenever they encountered this kind of homework, the young wizards who had been complaining about Prof. Dracula because of his devilish training began to read his praises, wishing that every professor was like Prof. Dracula ...

Well ... also can not, if every professor like Professor Dracula arranged the devil training, then they will not be exhausted in the school?

So the young wizards made a decision that it would be best for the professors at Hogwarts to have the spontaneous Professor Dracula assigning homework, the strict and serious Professor McGonagall delineating the scope of the exams, the kindly Professor Sprout conducting the lectures, and the tireless Professor Flivvy accompanying the practice ...

As for Professor Snape ... well, don't bother!

During the Easter holidays, Harry and the other second years had new things to think about -

It was time for them to choose their third year courses!

This was something that, at least in Hermione's opinion, needed to be taken with a grain of salt.

"This could affect our entire future." Hermione said very seriously to Harry and Ron in the Gryffindor common room.

At the moment, they were both sitting on the couches in the common room, scrutinizing the list of new classes and making notes on them.

"I just want to drop Potions class." Harry said bitterly.

Ever since he and Snape had eased up at the end of the last school year, only to fall out again, Harry was at a complete loss as to how to deal with the Potions professor who had saved his life and was always working against him.

After entering his second year, Snape had even begun to target Harry more aggressively, and if the Gryffindor didn't get more than twenty points deducted from any Potions class that Harry attended, it could be counted as a sign of Snape's conscience!

"Impossible," Ron said moodily, "all the original subjects have to be taken or Neville would have thrown Potions out long ago I'm afraid ..."

He glanced at Neville, who was sitting not far away.

Neville was also one of the Gryffindor's big demerits in Potions class.

Snape had realized that he was just awkward as hell about Potions, so he had been dividing every class against Harry to watch Neville, ready to find a reason from him to give the Gryffindor a demerit.

"But Potions class is important!" Hermione said in surprise, "Whether you guys want to be an Auror later in life, or you want to go down the path of being a Potions Master, a healer, or something like that, Potions is an essential class."

"At this rate, I'm sure Neville isn't going to choose any of those careers," Ron shrugged and spoke, "I'm guessing Neville will choose a job related to Herbology, he was most active in Professor Sprout's Herbology class."

Navi Longbottom's personality seemed to have undergone some subtle and imperceptible transformation ever since he experienced that open class on Black Magic Defense that Dracula had unfolded in the auditorium.

Originally, even in the herbal medicine class, which was Neville's best skill, he seldom took the initiative to raise his hand to speak up because of his introversion.

But after that Black Magic Defense open class, Neville became enthusiastic, whenever Professor Sprout asked a question he knew well, he would raise his hand at the first time, and even stole a lot of points that originally belonged to Hermione as a result.

Not only that, but he had become active in other classes as well, at least willing to raise his hand to answer the questions he could.

Of course, Snape's Potions class was still Neville's hardest hit, and his fear of the Potions professor could never be dissolved by a few words of enlightenment from Dracula!

At the moment, Neville was sitting in the Gryffindor common room like Harry, Ron, and Hermione, picking out the elective courses he would choose for his third year.

The wizards and witches of the house had written to him with many different suggestions for him on the subject of course selection.

Neville was having a selection phobia and felt a little overwhelmed and extremely nervous. He sat looking at the list of courses with a torn face, asking the others if they thought that Arithmetic and Divination sounded more difficult to learn than Ancient Magic Scripts.

The young wizard sitting next to Neville was Dean Thomas, who, like Harry, had grown up around muggles.

The young wizard didn't know how to choose a class, so he closed his eyes and tapped his wand on the list, mumbling "I'll choose whoever the little cockerel taps," and finally chose whichever class he tapped on.

Of all the wizards in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was probably the most calm.

She didn't take anyone's advice and signed up for all the subjects.

By the time almost everyone had chosen their courses, the quill in Harry's hand was still slow to move.

Harry had always felt that he had nothing really good to offer other than Defense Against the Dark Arts - he simply couldn't decide between the five electives of Divination, Protection of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, Arithmetic and Divination and Ancient Runic Texts.

Percy Wesley had noticed his hesitation and came over to him urgently to preach to him.

"It depends on where you want to go, Harry." He said, "It's important to plan for the future early on, so I'd recommend Divination as a class that will give you some insight into your future."

"Aside from that what about the fact that my classmates say that choosing a Muggle Studies class is foolish, but I personally believe that wizards should have a thorough and complete understanding of non-magical society, especially if they want to work in a job that has close Muggle connections - look at my father, who has to be in every moment of his life with Muggle affairs."

"My brother Charlie has always loved being in the outdoors, so he chose the Conservation of Magical Creatures class, and he later went on to work at the Fire Dragon Sanctuary in Romania as well. So play to your strengths, Harry!"

Percy encouraged as he patted Harry on the shoulder.

After Percy left, Harry was left alone for half a day to think about it, figuring that the only thing he was really good at, besides Defense Against the Dark Arts, was Quidditch.

"How come there just isn't a Quidditch elective?" He sighed bitterly as he slumped over his desk.

Finally, he took Ron's list of electives and filled out the same few electives as him.

Harry figured that even if the choices weren't good enough and he picked a few classes that were a pain in the ass to learn, at least there was someone else willing to help him in a friendly way, and the two of them could copy each other's ... incorrectly and split the work!

Speaking of Quidditch, Harry remembered that the Gryffindor team's next Quidditch game was against the Hufflepuff team.

Wood, who was the captain of the Gryffindor team, insisted that the team train every day.

Since there were pre-dinner dueling club meetings every night Monday through Friday, Wood scheduled the daily practice after dinner, allowing the team to top off their exhaustion after the devilish practice of dueling, eat and then proceed to the devilish practice of Quidditch.

Wood's beautiful name was to enhance the players' physique and endurance, and to improve their ability to cope with long-lasting battles.

As a result, Harry and the other members of the Gryffindor team had little time to do anything other than attend dueling clubs, Quidditch training and complete homework every day.

This intense training wasn't without its benefits, though.

The team members were getting more and more comfortable and in tune with each other during Quidditch practice, and Harry's originally thin physique, which had not been eating well at the Dursleys' house, was gradually becoming a bit more angular.

As he walked to his dormitory to put down his flying broom the night before Saturday's game, he felt that the Gryffindor team had never been more assured of winning the Quidditch Cup!

...

The next morning was bright and sunny.

A pleasant breeze blew gently across the lake where the ice had completely melted, causing slight ripples in the water.

"The perfect weather for a Quidditch match!" Wood enthused at the Gryffindor table, adding a number of scrambled eggs to each player's plate as he did so. "Harry, cheer up, you need a good breakfast."

Harry, who was the Gryffindor Quidditch team's biggest contributor to winning the Quidditch Cup last school year, was favored by Wood to a large extent, and it was very evident in the fact that while he added only two pieces of scrambled eggs to most of the other team members, he added four pieces to Harry.

"That's not fair, Wood!" Fred and George protested, "You're being outright biased!"

They both added just one more piece of scrambled egg to their plates each.

"You could have added your own eggs." Wood glanced at the twins and plunged back into a heated discussion with Harry about today's Quidditch tactics.

After the meal, Harry walked briskly to the Gryffindor building, grabbed his Lightwheel 2000, and joined the throngs of people bustling to the Quidditch pitch.

"Hufflepuff's Quidditch team is a little less powerful than ours overall, but their ball finder, Cedric Diggory, isn't weak." Wood pushed his way through the crowd and continued to pontificate in Harry's ear, "Harry, all you have to do is keep an eye on Cedric and catch the golden flyer before he does ..."

Harry nodded copiously as he glanced around, trying to find a figure that was also a ball finder for the Quidditch team.

Just as he was gradually approaching the tall stands of the Quidditch pitch, Harry's footsteps stopped.

He saw a very pretty Asian girl with long, cascading black hair and a broomstick in her hand, and that gentle bookish air that had lingered around him looked heroic against the flying broomstick.

To Harry's ears, Wood's voice seemed to disappear as his eyes focused entirely on the pretty girl.

Autumn Chang.

Harry had met the pretty girl at the end of the last school year when Professor Dracula had awarded the Patronus Charms to the top grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts class for the first three grades.

Later, when he went to inquire about the class content of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, he deliberately pretended to have a chance encounter and chatted with Autumn Chang once.

However, before the two of them could say a few words, Professor Dracula appeared out of nowhere and interrupted him with interest.

Since then, he never dared to say a word to Autumn-Chang again.

But Harry would subconsciously look for Autumn Chang on any occasion and in any place at Hogwarts. After determining that she was present, he would hide far away from her, even pulling Ron beside him to block his line of sight so as not to be discovered by her.

If Autumn-Chang didn't catch his sight, Harry would stare at her for a long time, he himself didn't know what there was to see, in short, he just couldn't get enough of her. If he was caught, he would immediately turn his head again and turn red in the face.

On top of that, Harry had memorized where Autumn Chang often appeared, and he would make a point of focusing on that particular spot until Autumn Chang's figure appeared.

Harry had complete confidence in this Quidditch match, and he felt that the Gryffindor team had never been more certain of winning the Quidditch Cup.

So once again, Harry's insides were stirring.

He wanted to walk over to Autumn Chang and say something to her, to make her cheer for the Gryffindor team, to make her pay attention to the moment when she saw him catching the Golden Snitch and looking heroic!

But Harry couldn't take a step.

"Harry? Harry!" Wood's large rough hands waved back and forth in front of his face, full of anxiety, "You've been standing here for half a day, is something wrong?"

It was only after a long while that Harry's vision came into focus and he turned his head dully to look at Wood beside him.

"Uh ... what's wrong, Oliver?" He asked.

"Why are you even asking about me?" Wood said heartily, "You're the one who suddenly stopped moving here, I had no idea what was wrong with you!"

"Oh, I'm fine, Oliver." Harry hurriedly explained, "It's just something that suddenly came to mind."

"That's good then." Wood breathed a sigh of relief, "Come on, let's go to the arena together, you don't dare suddenly think of things like that during a match."

"Just a minute." Harry shook his head, refusing to head to the Quidditch pitch with Wood, "I've got a few things to do, you go ahead, I'll be there before the match for sure."

Wood looked at Harry with suspicion, afraid that he would suddenly run off alone before the match.

"Make sure you get here on time!" He told Harry a thousand times.

"Don't worry!" Harry assured with a pat on the back.

Once he had whisked Wood away, Harry let out a long breath of relief and then immediately looked anxiously to where Autumn Chang had just been.

Luckily, the Ravenclaw girl hadn't left yet, still standing playfully in place with the broom in her hand.

Harry looked at her, and an odd spasm suddenly came over him, as if he had stepped off a step while descending a staircase, beating extremely fast.

Seeing that the Quidditch match was about to begin, he gritted his teeth and, holding his breath as if he were dying, walked over to Autumn Chang.

...

"Harry Potter?" Autumn-Chang looked at Harry, whose face was full of tangles and moved to his side, and surveyed him curiously, "Is there something you want to see me about?"

"Um ...," Harry stammered.

He desperately wanted to say something to get Autumn Chang to cheer for him and the Gryffindor team, but he could never open his mouth.

'Or maybe it would be okay to say something about how the two could discuss having something about Quidditch looking for a player or something like that, we'd have something in common.' Harry cheered himself up.

Autumn Chang stood there, looking at him with a confused expression.

Finally, Harry gritted his teeth heavily once more and uttered an incoherent sentence, not quite getting the words right:

"Today ... ball game ... cheering for me?"

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Autumn-Chang didn't catch what he said.

"I mean, it's our Quidditch match with Hufflepuff today, can you ..." Harry finally got his words organized and opened his mouth.

Just then, however, a tall, straight and handsome figure walked over from the edge of the field.

"Harry, what a coincidence?" That figure similarly walked over to Autumn Chang's side and greeted Harry, "Today is a match between our two academies, how are the preparations going?"

"Cedric, why are you here ...," Harry asked in surprise.

But before the words could be asked, he suddenly saw Autumn-Zhang's cheeks blush slightly as she fluttered and handed the broom in her hand to Cedric's.

This broom was Cedric's? Why did Autumn-Chang keep this broom for Cedric? What is the relationship between the two of them? ...

Harry's words caught in his throat as several strange questions flashed through his mind in quick succession.

It was an odd sensation: a minute ago, he felt like his insides were writhing like snakes, and now all of a sudden, he felt as if he had no insides at all ...

"What's wrong with you, Harry?" Cedric asked concerned, "Are you alright, do you need to postpone the match?"

"Even though you Gryffindors were the defending champions last school year, we Hufflepuffs wouldn't want to play you while you're out of shape, that would be a win even if we won."

Harry felt empty inside and shook his head with a fuzzy head.

"I'm fine, thanks." He said softly, turning away from the scene.

Harry had absolutely no idea how he got to the Gryffindor team's locker room. As he changed into his bright red robes in the locker room, the only thing he chatted about was the fact that everyone was now outside watching the game. Autumn Chang was there.

The team made their way to the field to earth-shattering cheers.

Harry rose into the sky on his broomstick and caught a very sharp glimpse of Autumn Chang in the audience.

In her hand was the yellow flag of Hufflepuff.

Harry's innards were back. He felt like they had just been taken and filled with lead.