Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

As he was recounting how he had infuriated the Dark Lord and saved Ginny, he suddenly sneezed... How strange, it's springtime!

These words made Riddle nod in satisfaction.

That's exactly what he wanted to say—a powerful and ambitious person like himself never needed the flattery of others.

"If only someone had understood me back then..."

“Shut up.” Nietzsche showed no mercy.

Riddle zipped up his mouth. He could wait; he'd rather let them have their turn and watch the show unfold. He didn't want to miss seeing Dumbledore get his comeuppance.

Nietzsche's words hit the bullseye.

Coupled with Riddle's attitude, Dumbledore began to hesitate.

“But isn’t he a descendant of Salazar Slytherin?” Harry thought of what the other man had said.

“As far as I know, he is a half-blood.” Dumbledore slowly put down his diary. “The first time I met Riddle was in a Muggle orphanage.”

"Think about what a brilliant Slytherin student will encounter in the house?" Hermione couldn't help but interject. "Winning people over, currying favor, opportunities for speculation everywhere."

By the way, Voldemort wasn't born that way.

What led him step by step to this title?

“Why would a mixed-race person abandon their Muggle part?” Nietzsche said. “It’s simply because of their treatment and upbringing, as well as the brainwashing of the pure-blood ideology, which gave Riddle the sense of belonging that pure-bloods need.”

Dumbledore pondered this carefully, drawing upon Nietzsche's logic.

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense—Riddle never felt he had done anything wrong; he almost held his wizarding bloodline in high esteem.

"Tongue-locking and throat-locking~" Hermione pointed her wand.

Riddle, on the other hand, didn't think he had been brainwashed. He was about to interject when his tongue got stuck to his palate.

“If all this is what purebloods need, then…” Dumbledore ignored his whimpering and continued, “Alright, give me some time. Also, what do you plan to do with the diary?”

Since the principal asked about the approach, Nietzsche knew that it was about time.

At this point, he had to bring Lockhart out.

“A hint, or a way to confuse Riddle’s memory,” Nietzsche shrugged, saying casually. “Voldemort has discarded his Muggle part, and that presents an opportunity for us.”

If this diary were merely a Horcrux without any memories, then Lucius would not have made contact with it and would naturally not have known that it could open the secret chamber.

And naturally, they cannot tamper with an unconscious soul vessel.

Ironically, Riddle claimed to be Voldemort's past, yet it was Voldemort's most humiliating past.

Thinking of this, Nietzsche's eyes showed a hint of pity.

Hermione quietly lifted the spell on him, and for some reason, she suddenly felt a little cunning and wanted to see Riddle's reaction.

“That’s impossible!” As she expected, Riddle immediately screamed, “I…I am one with him, I am Voldemort’s past! This memory is something I decided to keep to guide another person to accomplish a noble cause!”

For what?

Did Voldemort foresee this day more than fifty years ago, that Lucius would use him to open the Chamber of Secrets?

If Voldemort wanted to guide others, why did he entrust the diary to Lucius's father for safekeeping? No, Riddle's existence was merely Voldemort's way of preserving his own ideal of 'perfection'.

“Pathetic, Riddle...so pathetic. Perhaps you are just a half-blood, a memory that has been completely erased from your life as a Muggle.”

"Your existence is solely for Voldemort's resurrection. The idea of ​​guiding others to complete Salazar's mission... that's probably just an excuse you've created to deceive yourself, a mere retrospective memory."

Nietzsche moved his face closer and began to admire his twisted and grotesque face.

It was wonderful. He couldn't help but glance at Riddle a few more times when he thought of Voldemort's smugness last year.

"You mud..."

"Silence him!" Hermione immediately activated the Silence spell as she saw him getting heated.

"Thank you," Nietzsche said, surprised.

"You are welcome."

Finally, a frustrated Tom Riddle disappeared from his chair and retreated into his diary. He just wanted some peace and quiet in his mental world, to stop thinking about things that were upsetting his worldview.

What is the purpose of his existence...?

Chapter 127 Lockhart Forced to Take Sides

(Hmm? Fox just realized there was only one update yesterday... then went to the drafts and found there was another chapter that hadn't been posted, because... Fox accidentally clicked the wrong button...)

“Ginny was on the verge of death, and no one could save her. You can ask Harry Potter and Ron Weasley; those professors didn’t know what that dark magic was, but I did!”

"I've got that mysterious killer completely under my thumb. Watch closely. This is my most powerful Oblivion Spell."

As soon as Nietzsche and Hermione entered the Great Hall, they heard Lockhart sitting on the steps in front of the main table, talking at length about how he had discovered the Dark Lord's weakness in the Chamber of Secrets.

He waved his hands and talked for several tens of minutes straight without pausing.

"And what about the basilisk?" one of Ravenclaw's eaglets asked. "How did you deal with it?"

“That wasn’t my responsibility, understand?” Lockhart dismissed it casually. “Back then, your Dean was creating opportunities for me because my target had always been that young Dark Lord…”

It's like the person who was lying on the ground pretending to be dead wasn't him at all.

Professor Flitwick, now relegated to the background, was so angry his hands were trembling, and he wished he could throw the fork he was holding at the back of Flitwick's head.

Hermione's face turned ashen as she stealthily crept up behind him.

“Is that so? It seems the great Professor Lockhart is quite adept at this kind of thing, but this isn’t over yet, because we need you to take over the Dark Lord.” The girl said suddenly in his ear in a shrill voice.

Lockhart's smile and movements froze instantly, as if he had been hit by a spell of obstruction.

After a long while, he slowly turned his head and saw the displeased Hermione and the smiling Nietzsche. Caught in a dilemma, he couldn't say anything in front of everyone and could only agree.

"This...this is perfectly fine..." He wiped his sweat with his dirty sleeve, leaving a gray stain on his forehead.

“One-on-one,” Hermione added.

"Ah!" Lockhart yelled, jumping up from the steps as if his backside was on fire. "I'm not going to talk to you guys anymore. I'm going to the principal to get ready... Oh, and remember to reserve my new book!"

As he walked toward the auditorium entrance, he told everyone some good news.

But the young wizards weren't about to let him go. This was news about that mysterious man, something they'd only ever heard about from their fathers.

Ignoring the dust, Ernie grabbed his robe and shouted, "Don't go! How could this be related to the mysterious man? You haven't explained it yet... How could he have been lurking in the school all this time?"

Lockhart dared not say anything more, and instead looked at Nietzsche.

But the latter thought it was a good opportunity. He didn't think there was anything wrong with letting these people know about Voldemort's existence, so he nodded without saying a word.

“This is—Ginny was controlled, understand?” Lockhart explained simply, “Lucius Malfoy framed something for Weasley, and the Dark Lord’s soul and memories are on it.”

Many people gasped in shock.

Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass came from the dining table several times. It was George and Fred, their eyes already red with anger.

Ron, standing to the side, looked bewildered. He stood up from next to Harry Potter and stared wide-eyed.

"That bastard Draco, he's been impersonating me to get close to Ginny?!" he roared. "No wonder you guys always say I have a bad memory, that I can't even remember the access code... Where is Draco?!"

Dean Thomas and Seamus grabbed his arms, and the two of them nearly fell to the ground as Ron struggled.

This was big news. The young wizards nearby were drawn to the sound from the Gryffindor table. Taking this opportunity, Luhart quickly pushed through the crowd of book lovers and curious wizards and walked out of the Great Hall.

But as luck would have it, Lockhart, having just escaped the crowd, ran into one of the people he least wanted to see—Lucius Malfoy.

He was accompanied by his son Draco and his servant Dobby.

“Mr. Lockhart, speaking recklessly before things are settled will have consequences…” Lucius said with an expression of uncontrollable rage, while his son cowered behind him in fear.

What do you do when you're talking badly about someone and they catch you in the act?

Lockhart is in this state now, not to mention that the person he 'slandered' is the head of the head of a pure-blood family, so he has become completely mute.

"You don't want your book taken off the shelves, do you? Just for show." Lucius moved closer and threatened in his ear, "Hmm?"

“This…this is all a misunderstanding…” Lockhart chuckled awkwardly. “I heard it from Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“Professor Lockhart, isn’t your wish for world peace, and your greatest hatred for dark wizards and creatures of darkness?” Hermione suddenly appeared by the Great Hall door, saying slyly, “Are you lying about everything?”

She would love to see Lucius's exasperated expression, just like Riddle's.

In fact, Hermione didn't think of herself as very generous. On the contrary, she considered herself to be an extremely vengeful and petty person—a point on which Nietzsche, who was by her side, would wholeheartedly agree.

"Well, of course I am..." Lockhart hesitated.

He did not want to offend the Malfoy family.

But sometimes he couldn't do whatever he wanted, because Nietzsche wouldn't let him.

"Hmm?" Nietzsche simply made a dull warning sound through his nose.

"I am naturally mortal enemies with dark wizards!" Lockhart immediately changed his tune, his attitude becoming resolute. "If anyone truly intends to harm a student, I will take action, even if it is the basilisk left behind by Salazar, it will die!"

“Hmm~” Nietzsche simply raised his chin. “Please, Professor Lockhart, don’t keep Dumbledore waiting.”

Draco was about to enter the Great Hall when he turned around and saw a group of wizards with their sleeves rolled up and wands in hand, led by the Weasley brothers.

Everyone was watching him, itching to make their move.

It seems Draco won't be able to enjoy this celebration... If he's willing to pay a small price, he can at least go in and take a look, whether he'll be lying down or standing up, that's up to his own ability.

"So, have you caught the murderer?" Lucius asked sarcastically.

“Of course we found it, thanks to Gilderoy!” Nietzsche exclaimed as he led the way.

Hermione walked at the very back, her right hand gripping her wand the whole time, as if she were escorting a prisoner.

When she caught a glimpse of Dobby, who was covered in bandages, she felt more heartache than gratitude. She couldn't imagine how a house-elf could withstand the pressure to come to school and help them.

"Oh? Who is it?" Lucius seemed to have anticipated something.

"You'll see."

No one answered him. Even Lockhart, surprisingly, didn't keep his mouth shut; he just followed Nietzsche with a pale face.

"Chocolate cockroaches."

Filled with doubt and unease, Lucius entered the principal's office with his son and servant.