Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Hermione was about to throw up. It was disgusting that these kinds of things were only something her friends could joke about.

“Thanks to you, I am now the head of the Malfoy family,” Narcissa said calmly, pulling her son behind her.

Of course she hated Hermione. If it weren't for her and Nietzsche, Lucius wouldn't have been arrested and tried by the Ministry of Magic. Narcissa felt nothing but hatred towards one of the culprits who led the Malfoy family into the abyss.

"You're welcome~" Hermione retorted dismissively, "Perhaps it won't be long before your son is also able to shoulder responsibilities like a man."

A Leo like her understands very well where the other person's weaknesses lie.

Even a simple taunt can hit the nail on the head and break a person's defenses, so Narcissa immediately clenched her fists.

"You little..."

“Mrs. Malfoy, why haven’t you gone in yet? Everyone is already seated.” Suddenly, two young men surrounded by servants walked over from the red carpet, and one of the men gentlemanly took Narcissa’s hand.

However, Draco didn't see this because he was facing away from his mother, blocking Hermione's path.

Almost simultaneously, Narcissa turned around and a smile appeared on her face. She looked as dignified and beautiful as an ordinary Muggle noblewoman.

“I’ve been delayed for so long because of some unrelated matters, I hope…” Narcissa’s tone was surprisingly full of apology.

"It's alright, go on in... The royal family is running out of money lately." The man waved his hand casually and said nonchalantly, "But luckily, we have taxpayers to cover for us, so it's not a big deal."

Hermione stood on tiptoe desperately, trying to get over Draco's shoulder to see the two elegant princes and princesses.

Then she came up with a plan: she deliberately looked at Draco with a contemptuous gaze and tried to provoke him.

“Look!” she said, pointing ahead. “Mr. Malfoy had just entered Azkaban when your mother found a Muggle… Ha! The adult world, it’s a pity I’ll never experience that kind of life.”

Draco turned his head and was shocked to find that the filthy Muggle was holding his mother's hand!

But he could only suppress his fury and rush over, grabbing Narcissa around the waist like a child whining to his mother, causing her to stumble forward a few steps.

Narcissa naturally withdrew her hand and covered it with a handkerchief.

Hermione then pretended to be a curious child and quietly followed behind the servants, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation as much as possible.

"350,000 pounds... This is just the money I received through royal funds, not even counting the investments from those French guys. All we have to do is wear the clothes they made, take a few photos, and we can make a fortune."

"Mr. Malfoy's father invested in some businesses when he was young... What? You want to convert it all into gold?!"

"Your family has fallen on hard times, okay, I understand... Don't worry, trust me, this won't affect our friendship at all."

Hermione followed them until they reached the observation deck at the top of the convention center, at which point she could no longer stop.

When she returned, she found Mycroft leaning on his cane, slightly bent over, staring blankly at the ground. His expression seemed to be that he had seen a flattened cream cake on the grass.

He only returned to his previous calm state after he removed the bug from Hermione.

"Who invited them?" Hermione asked, looking at the impressive array of people around her.

“Second-rate princes and princesses, or whatever, not direct descendants.” Mycroft, annoyed, grabbed a pastry from the cart and stuffed it into his mouth. “They’re actually taking the taxes they collect and distributing them to wizards.”

After swallowing a small piece of pastry, he continued, "Because my tax-paying business owners have always disapproved of the extravagance of certain members of the royal family, the Prime Minister has been trying to find ways to stop using royal funds."

But this is not enough.

It sounds like Malfoy had entrusted a small portion of his funds to those dukes and nobles a long time ago. Although he couldn't reclaim the legal money, he could at least lay off staff.

Narcissa's exchange of gold was also to preserve the strength of the magical world...

The wizard, after all, couldn't bear to part with the Buddha, and that's precisely why Mycroft had Hermione prepared herself, so that at least before the war, she would have enough confidence to support and protect herself.

Meanwhile, Lockhart's new book continues to be a bestseller in Diagon Alley.

The only difference is that Nietzsche has been added this year, and with the overwhelming publicity, many people are planning to try out the 'different Slytherin biography' recommended by Lockhart.

“Thus Spoke Salazar Slytherin?” Some wizards flipped through the book curiously. “I always thought he was an old madman.”

Anything associated with Slytherin is bound to be bad.

It's not just the school; because of what happened in the past, when they mention Slytherin, they instinctively think of dark wizards, and then of that mysterious figure... But you can't blame them, after all, the Slytherins themselves are quite satisfied with this fear.

But this book is quite different—it tells the story of the founder of Slytherin in his youth.

It's hard to imagine that the sunny, ambitious Salazar Slytherin in this story, who is ruthless in his pursuit of morality, is the same disheveled, eccentric figure in people's memories who invented the theory of pure blood.

Although it's absurd, no one dares to refute its truthfulness; it's printed on the very first page of the book:

'At this point, I will thank Professor Binns Cuthbert, the Ghost.'

"It's that old relic from Hogwarts!" a wizard joked in the tavern.

“Let’s check out Lockhart’s new book, Flying Cars…that looks so cool,” another wizard said drunkenly. “I have a friend who used to live in Muggle houses, and the streets were full of these things.”

"What's the big deal? It's just replacing the carriages at Hogwarts with tin cans," some people said dismissively.

But the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley was frequented by all sorts of people, and their chatter overwhelmed the ignorant wizard.

"Fool! At Hogwarts, the Thestrals pull the carriages. Do Muggles even have Thestrals?!"

"Let's talk about Salazar Slytherin. You'll understand once you hear about the Chamber of Locked Chamber case at the school this year. This... this young Slytherin is completely different from that old madman!"

"Although Bins's classes are the most boring, I don't remember him mentioning anything like this when I was in school."

Tom looked at the wizards who were making a ruckus over a few novels and impatiently rubbed his walnut head. These guys might start fighting if they kept arguing.

So he took out his wand and placed it by the pool.

'Nietzsche...Sherlock Holmes...those names sound familiar.' Bartender Tom Abbott heard the names the wizards were talking about.

Oh right, isn't this the crazy guy who bankrupted the Malfoy family a while ago?

Chapter 136 Trilateral Talks

While Nietzsche and Hermione were preparing for the magical car, and the Queen and the Prime Minister were working on the royal family's slimming plan, Dumbledore went to a bay in Austria to relax.

Tom Riddle was also there, looking at the eerie castle before him, his heart filled with suspicion—he suspected that Dumbledore wanted to find a secluded place to quietly kill him.

“Hypocritical old man, where do you think you’re taking me?” Riddle yelled behind him.

Dumbledore ignored him, simply opening the wooden window on the shore and slowly sailing over. As he stepped onto the uneven and smooth road, a sudden wave of guilt washed over him.

But he suppressed it himself the next second.

His purpose in coming here was to visit an old friend.

"Say something, you mute?!" Riddle, unable to contain himself, began to panic and become frightened as he watched Dumbledore walk through the corridors without uttering a word.

His anxiety and insecurity made him very irritable, a situation that continued until Dumbledore pushed open a door and saw his old friend—an old man on his deathbed.

The other person was like a skeleton, so thin that only skin covered the bones.

"I thought you'd forgotten about this place." The nearly dried-out old man sat in the center of the hall, a moldy piece of bread on his plate. "Which student is this, your favorite?"

“Gellert…”

Dumbledore whispered his name.

Yes, no one could have imagined that the friend of the world's greatest wizard was the first Dark Lord, the most terrifying one in the past. Even Riddle was taken aback, staring in astonishment at everything that was happening before his eyes.

Gellert Grindelwald was a figure who inspired both fear and admiration in wizards worldwide.

“He was once my student.” Dumbledore placed the diary on the table and sat down calmly.

Grindelwald, who had almost lost his will to live, observed in silence for a while before saying, "I believe you didn't come because of an object that contains a soul, or are you so old that you can't even handle something like this?"

Although Riddle knew he was telling the truth, hearing it to his face was humiliating.

It seemed to be telling him—boy, the Horcruxes you painstakingly created are nothing but a joke to me and Dumbledore.

“This stuff? I’ve made sure no wizard in all of Britain dares to utter its name!” Riddle said bitterly, standing behind Dumbledore. “I’ve already surpassed you in the Dark Arts!”

"Hmm... a powerful idiot is indeed a real nuisance," Grindelwald commented succinctly.

Because of its overwhelming and unstoppable power, it attempts to distort the world into its own imagined form, while its folly makes its next move unpredictable—perhaps randomly selecting an unlucky Muggle? A student?

The unarmed Grindelwald was not afraid of the so-called 'Voldemort' at all.

“And you, dear Albus.” He took a bite of moldy bread, but didn’t eat much and spat out a loose tooth. “The one worth making you come all this way must be someone even more difficult to deal with than Voldemort.”

Dumbledore waved his wand, and a large bowl of fish porridge appeared on the table.

"There's nothing to consider as worthwhile or not. Besides... I'm just worried about the future of the magical world."

“Hahaha... You always imagine yourself as a saint, carrying the burden of those who have been lost!” Grindelwald laughed loudly. “The wizarding world doesn’t need my or your salvation. Those pathetic ants can only see the candy placed right in front of them.”

He laughed so hard that tears streamed down his face, and sticky grains of rice dripped from his mouth onto his beard and clothes.

But Riddle knew what this 'predecessor' was laughing about. The Dark Lord, who had once shaken the world, led the Sorcerers, and was determined to change the wizarding world, was ultimately defeated by Dumbledore—his best friend.

So he simply started to laugh at Dumbledore.

At the same time, I thought to myself: If it were me, I would never let the people around me betray me.

“Muggles are innocent… This will cause a war between wizards and Muggles… Albus, you won, but now you’re coming to me about the wizarding world.” Gellert stared intently at him through the food.

This single glance encapsulates nearly a century's worth of emotions.

From excitement to struggle, regret, and nostalgia, everything eventually returned to calm, as still as the sea outside the window.

"Thanks to our Riddle, whose soul outside thinks every second about resurrection and how to make a comeback. He even wants to drag all of humanity back to the slave society of the past," Dumbledore said.

He no longer possessed the dignity of a principal; like a child, his fingers unconsciously traced the grain of the wooden table.

“A madman has made you like this. If you had believed me back then and broken the Secret Code, we wouldn’t have had to worry about the consequences of the wizarding world being exposed…” Gellert was also like a really strong and competitive child.

"My opposition to you is not because of the Secrecy Law!"

Dumbledore appeared exceptionally angry. He pushed up his half-moon spectacles and said sternly, "It is your disregard for life and the harm you have caused to Muggles and wizards that Nietzsche has done far better than you in this respect!"

Hoo hoo~ This is a brand new name.

Gellert's eyes narrowed immediately, and he gripped the bowl tightly with both hands.

"So you're just here to show off?" he said, feigning calmness. "Who was the last one you brought up... I remember now, Newt Scamander. Looks like you have a lot of students to be proud of."

"Not only that, in fact, I don't know if his behavior was reasonable..."

He wasn't just trying to show off; he wanted to understand Nietzsche better, because he saw Gellert's shadow in him more than once.

They were both young and impetuous, with the same eyes, but their starting points were completely different.

This piqued Gellert's interest. It seemed that what troubled Dumbledore was the grander future, which he couldn't see clearly and was therefore worried about, as if the wizarding world would collapse at any moment.