Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

"The biggest difference between Nietzsche and the cornerstone is the means and the targets of their influence. It is undeniable that if I were to go back to my youth, I would also choose Nietzsche, because he understood how to distribute benefits and honors."

The foundation of the magical world is not a small group of people who make up the head.

Especially in the wizarding world, which has experienced the Magic War and the World Magic War, pure-blood wizards are extremely rare. Nietzsche made good use of everything that happened around him to tip the scales in his favor.

It's like... even Dumbledore couldn't explain it.

That's an amazing thing—Nietzsche seemed to see through the course of events, and even if he couldn't change the direction of things, he could change the outcome.

For example, imagine a fruit tree planted in the ground. It will bear fruit sooner or later, but Nietzsche would buy it beforehand, and the fruit would naturally be his.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Phineas muttered. “You’re always saying Voldemort will come back sooner or later anyway. Now that there’s someone who can take on the responsibility, and is even better than Harry Potter, what’s wrong with that!”

Dumbledore asked himself, what was wrong with Nietzsche?

Of course, that's great. At least for now, there are no problems. But the most crucial thing is a person's philosophy. Dumbledore always felt that Nietzsche was a bit strange about the issue of wizards.

He couldn't understand it... or more accurately, he wasn't good at these things.

"Sigh~ I'm about to retire, but things keep getting busier every year." Dumbledore said, feeling a bit weary.

"What? You're retiring?" Armando said with a chuckle. "What do you think of that girl, that student from Gryffindor... I think she's poised and confident, with a lot of presence."

The headmasters couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Granger's treatment of Riddle.

"Perhaps." Dumbledore blinked, not wanting to break the headmasters' fun.

His entire life seems to have been spent trying to make amends. Now, he is cautious in everything he does, worrying about Harry's growth and taking care of the students' desire to be extraordinary. It's inevitable that too much speculation will arise.

Hermione Granger wasn't an ordinary child either, but at least she tried to understand him.

"Never mind, I'll go see him during my vacation this year---" Dumbledore had no choice but to give up.

Since he's not good at this kind of thing, we'll just have to ask someone else to do the evaluation.

However, while Dumbledore was thinking about going on a trip, Nietzsche was already having a blast at the celebration... This wasn't the first time Hogwarts had hosted such a banquet, but the atmosphere was definitely something to behold today.

The banquet following the killing of the basilisk lasted until the early hours of the morning!

That's right, it's past midnight! Everyone can go for a night out tonight!!

This infuriated Filch, who kept saying to the professors, "How could this be... This... This is all a mess."

Professor McGonagall didn't take it seriously at all. As she pulled him out, she said, "Alright, Argus, you can rest for a while tonight. They've been holding it in for so long, they should let off some steam."

The witches even went back to the lounge, changed into their pajamas, and then ran back to continue their wild antics.

“Oh, what a pity Colin won’t wake up until next month.” Theodore held two donuts in front of his eyes, using them as binoculars, marveling at the wonder of life. “I declare Ravenclaw a point.”

"Only one point?" Ernie swallowed hard, his throat dry.

Ravenclaw has the largest number of witches, and their thin nightgowns accentuate their figures even more clearly.

Nietzsche didn't escape either. He was shoved and bumped into Hermione's side. He just looked up in embarrassment at the ceiling and the candles hanging in the air. He was about to take a sip of butterbeer when his glass was snatched away.

"You actually killed a basilisk!" Cedric clapped his hands vigorously, his palms turning red.

The key point is that a Slytherin killed the basilisk kept by the founder of Slytherin; that's what they're concerned with.

This further illustrates that Nietzsche was not a traditional Slytherin.

“Listen up, I’m not the only one.” Nietzsche habitually put his arm around Hermione’s shoulder and said to them, “Look here, friends… Salazar and Godric were friends back in the day!”

Hermione had just tried to escape, but was pulled back. Her face was flushed, but she was smiling more happily than anyone else.

Now that Draco Malfoy has gone home, the remaining group naturally fell silent, and she saw that the four houses had truly stood together.

At that moment, Hermione felt that everything she had suffered before was worthwhile.

Surrounded by her classmates, she saw their needs—they needed her and Nietzsche, and in turn, she needed them too. Without their support, what could she and Nietzsche do on their own?

Hermione quickly got used to the stares.

"Do you think it was just a basilisk that died?" she cleared her throat and said loudly.

Everyone quieted down and listened to Hermione's speech. No one laughed at the girl's unkempt curly hair.

"No, those who died also died from their obsession with bloodlines! Their twisted belief in Salazar Slytherin! Today, the moment Harry Potter plunged the sword into the basilisk's head, it all ended!"

At least the boundaries that some Slytherins had deliberately drawn have been erased.

If Nietzsche was their reassuring spear and shield, then Hermione was their inspiring battle flag.

The professors all agreed with her speech, and even Snape surprisingly did not mock her for her quick wit. He simply sat quietly at the very end of the main table, drinking one glass after another.

'Maybe she's right, maybe I'm just a pathetic victim too...' Drunken Snape kept hearing Hermione's words in his mind.

Perhaps the harm inflicted on him by purebloods has never faded.

Because turning a victim into a new perpetrator is itself the greatest form of harm.

Chapter 130 The Most Enjoyable End of the School Year

From then on, their days consisted of doing homework and playing.

Because there are no final exams anymore!

Nietzsche often heard Hermione complain about Vice Principal McGonagall's arrangements, and it was quite rare that she actually began to question the professor's teaching.

"I've been preparing for so long, all for the final exams!" Her mood had been steadily declining ever since she heard the school canceled the exams. "And now, just to reward the students, they've canceled my final assessment for the semester..."

“Isn’t this good?” Nietzsche said, standing on the lawn and feeding the dragon.

“No! Even if I can keep my grades higher than yours, that’s only for last semester!” Hermione insisted stubbornly. “Otherwise, you’ll just say, ‘There were no exams in second year, but I’ve actually surpassed you.’”

Nietzsche coughed a few times and wiped the saliva that had splashed onto his face.

In fact, he really did plan to say that later, at least until the end of his third-year exams, so he could live with Hermione...

When summer came and the mandrake was fully ripe, the three students attacked by the basilisk and Mrs. Loris were freed from the petrification effect, but the first thing they said when they woke up was that they were hungry.

Everyone spent the rest of the semester in the sunshine.

Nietzsche also accompanied Smaug on his tour of the Forbidden Forest, occasionally checking out Lockhart's new books.

Finally, a few days before the end of the semester, he received some good news—Lohart was able to finish his novel, "Flying Cars and My Amazing Adventures," because he didn't need to teach or prepare for exams.

“It’s flawless. I even highlighted its durability and comfort compared to a flying broomstick,” Lockhart said, sitting in the passenger seat and leaning against the window.

Nietzsche read it over and over again and finally understood the novel. It must be said that Lockhart was a real talent; he managed to take all the credit for himself and even included the basilisk in the story.

In this book, he becomes a hero who falls from the sky—while the professors are struggling to hold on, Lockhart drives his car and crashes into the Basilisk, giving everyone a chance to survive.

Good, good, this can connect too.

If Smaug could speak, the first thing he might do would be to stomp on and burn the car that stole his credit right in front of Lockhart.

“You’ve omitted one thing,” Nietzsche said.

Lockhart barely dared to breathe after handing over the manuscript, knowing full well how far-fetched his own version was. But Nietzsche actually thought it wasn't enough?!

He flashed a sly smile, just like Snape's, and said to the professor, "Why didn't you write that you discovered Draco Malfoy secretly gathering herbs to make Polyjuice Potion?"

“Well, well…” Lockhart scratched his blond hair and said with a grin, “Isn’t this meant for my most capable assistant, Nietzsche? You can be as popular as me wherever you go in the future.”

In fact, he simply didn't dare.

First, they dared not claim credit for Nietzsche's work; second, they dared not offend those pure-blood families too much.

Nietzsche put down the novel, slowly walked to Lockhart's car window, placed his hands on the other's shoulders, and cast his shadow on the table, blocking out the last bit of sunlight that Professor Lockhart was receiving.

“Write, I allow you to write,” Nietzsche said softly, brushing the dust off his writing.

"Ming...understood."

Wait, something's not right! Lockhart snapped out of his daze and remembered that he was still the professor.

But Riddle's screams immediately rang in his ears, and he fidgeted with his tie. Nietzsche's soft breathing made him start touching his neck, as if it might break at any moment.

"The clever Professor Lockhart, noticing subtle clues, discovered Malfoy's plot and hurriedly drove his magical car to the Chamber of Secrets... What do you think of this story?"

“No problem,” Lockhart said hesitantly, shrinking back.

is that OK?

He didn't know either, and could only hope that he wouldn't be targeted.

In this way, Lockhart's novels made most wizards in the magical world aware of flying cars and the benefits of modifying Muggle items, gradually changing their thinking and causing the Muggle Protection Act to lose some of its effectiveness.

This is Nietzsche's 'gift' to the wizards.

"Oh, and hurry up and wipe your butt clean," he added. "You know what I mean..."

“That’s completely unnecessary. In fact, nobody knows about those things except you,” Lockhart said confidently. “My Oblivion Charm keeps those old wizards comfortably in Muggle villages.”

Nietzsche knew that once Lockhart's book was published, the reaction it would cause would be more than just a trend.

No, far more than that. It might even prompt the improvement of certain laws, which also indicates that there will be a direct conflict of interest between Nietzsche and the purebloods. Lockhart will be the first to be targeted.

Anything that can happen will happen, therefore Nietzsche needed to take precautions.

“You’re not just a novelist, you’re the face of Flying Cars. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Nietzsche said solemnly again. “Make amends for all the mistakes you’ve made in the past.”

Is this easier said than done?

“Make amends?” Lockhart was stunned. “You want me to clarify the facts myself? If a wizard uses a forgetting spell on someone indiscriminately, he should be imprisoned in Azkaban!”

Nietzsche rolled his eyes. He really wanted to grab Lockhart by the ear and yell at him if his brain had been vanished by a vanishing spell.

"Issue a statement implying that your inspiration came from stories you heard while you were out there, and since those people have permanently forgotten about it, all you need to do is extricate yourself from this mess!"

They just say it's a folk curse they heard and borrow it for their own use. Who would care whether it's true or not?

As Lockhart said, wizards only want to see a handsome, young wizard do one thing after another that they have never done before, without considering whether such 'sources of inspiration' have actually happened.

In this way, even if someone discovers something is wrong, it won't involve Lockhart himself.

“Stories, just stories… You only need to keep the accurate descriptions of those spells and dark creatures, understand?” Nietzsche picked up the teapot and poured the other person a cup of honey water.

"This... I'll try." Lockhart's face was grim, but he could only manage to deal with it for the time being.

Upon closer examination, Nietzsche was absolutely right in the long run: if this mess isn't resolved, the risks won't disappear; instead, they will expand indefinitely.