Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

"That's right. To prevent similar incidents from happening again at the school, and to ensure the safety of Hogwarts, I've decided to hire another teaching assistant. Alright, I'll go and inform the school..."

As Dumbledore handed the diary to Gellert, he gave him a warning look.

Before Hermione could continue speaking, the headmaster turned around and vanished into thin air, leaving Gellert Grindelwald and Hermione staring at each other.

Wait a minute! Principal, since he's a professor, why can't the school treat him to a meal?!

“Miss Granger, may I come in and sit for a while?” Gellert could no longer keep quiet and broke the silence between them. “Are you sure you want a 110-year-old man standing here with you, just sitting there in a daze?”

Hermione stepped aside, looking bewildered.

As Gellert walked in, he curiously looked around at everything. In his memory, Muggles used to live in cramped, small apartments, not in large residential areas like they do now.

The streets weren't that clean either; most of them were cobblestone streets filled with oil and wastewater, and no one cleaned them, leaving everything to be washed away by the heavy rains of England.

He was momentarily stunned—he hadn't expected that the Muggles could maintain relative peace despite the powerful weapons.

“Um… Mr. Glendale, you…”

Gellert turned to look at her, his sharp gaze sending a shiver down Hermione's spine.

This person is not someone to be trifled with.

"How are your grades at school?" He took control of the conversation, patted his clothes, and then sat down on the soft sofa.

Feeling the comfort and cool breeze around him, Grindelwald felt relaxed... This was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time, even after he 'retired' and was alone in the castle.

Even when it comes to eating, it's just enough to ensure that one doesn't starve to death.

Speaking of her grades, Hermione couldn't help but feel proud: "They were just so-so, only first in the grade."

“Hmm…not really,” Grindelwald said coldly. “I thought that as Albus’s favorite student, you would have something special about you.”

For the first time, Hermione wasn't so inclined to respect her elders. What did she mean by 'really just average'?

She was just being modest, how could this person take it seriously... Wait, he said he was Dumbledore's favorite student?

So that's it. Dumbledore entrusted his centenarian friend to her because he trusted him; otherwise, why wouldn't he go to Nietzsche? Thinking of this, Hermione found another thing she could brag about to Nietzsche.

But looking at the gaunt old man, she began to worry again: she was really not good at dealing with this kind of eccentric wizard.

One Nietzsche was enough to give her trouble.

"Ahem... If you're thirsty, you can get some water in the kitchen. If you're bored... here's the remote control, you can turn on the TV." Hermione decided not to deal with this mess anymore, so she lay down on the sofa by herself.

“I know all this stuff about Muggles,” Grindelwald said impatiently. “Is that all?”

"So what else do you want? If you want to go to a bar, I won't stop you..."

“I’m talking about you! You little wizard… can’t you learn something during the summer vacation?” Gellert was disappointed in his old friend’s judgment.

Sigh~ Every student who catches Dumbledore's eye is always fascinated by things other than magic.

The last one was a magical creature, this one is a Muggle invention, and Riddle, the only one who pays attention to magic, is a madman obsessed with immortality... Thinking of this, Gellert began to shake his head and sigh repeatedly.

The wizards are getting worse with each generation.

"I'm a minor, do you want me to be expelled from the British Ministry of Magic?" Hermione lay on the sofa, one of her fair legs dangling off the side, her toes hooked on her slippers and dangling in mid-air.

Perhaps the laws differ from country to country.

But Grindelwald did not give up. He tried his best to find out what was about this Muggle wizard that Dumbledore was interested in.

Grindelwald continued, "In fact... you can exploit loopholes using staffless spellcasting."

"I'm only in third grade," Hermione said, covering her face.

"You can't even cast spells without a staff?" He clicked his tongue. "Fine, how about using an anti-tracking spell to block your tracks?"

Hermione shook her head blankly.

This broke Grindelwald's nerves. She didn't know anything and hadn't adopted any magical creatures. Surely Dumbledore couldn't have done it because she was a good student in Gryffindor?

He poked at the diary with his thin index finger, his nail leaving deep marks on the cover.

No, he didn't believe Hermione Granger was just an ordinary little lion!

------(The fox's presence in this book)

Rowling has never provided complete information about the silk threads.

Although the Chamber of Secrets in the second book can confirm that the Threads of Magic was applied to the wizard himself by the fact that Dobby used magic and was mistakenly identified by the Ministry of Magic as Harry Potter violating the rules.

But... Rowling later retconned the book!!

During the subsequent visits by the Arthur Weasleys, magic was used several times. Logically, Harry should have received a warning, since Arthur Weasley blew up the Dursleys' fireplace and then repaired it.

So this can be considered a secondary creation by the fox—the wand is the bridge between underage wizards and their threads.

A wand containing traces will only establish a connection when it is near a wizard (which also brings back the storyline of using the Quirrell wand earlier).

Therefore, this book establishes that, apart from the possibility of exploiting legal loopholes by casting spells without a wand, wizards can keep a wand with a tether at home and then use another wand elsewhere without revealing themselves.

(Tsk...anyway, every Harry Potter fanfiction has a different setting for the trails.)

Chapter 140 So Gellert wanted to see her clearly

Gellért's lifestyle was the complete opposite of Nietzsche's.

As soon as the summer sky brightened, Hermione could see Glendale sitting alone in the dining room, eating buttered bread while flipping through history books he had taken from the study (all Muggle world history).

Keep in mind that at this time, Nietzsche was usually still fast asleep, clutching his pillow.

After hearing the girl's footsteps on the stairs, he pointed to the plate opposite him.

Hermione looked at the blanket on the sofa, then at the breakfast on her plate, and for a moment she didn't know who was taking care of whom.

“Don’t be disgusted by my cooking skills, after all, I haven’t been in the kitchen for a long time.” Grindelwald licked his lips. “Also, as a token of my gratitude, I’ll start 'previewing' this year’s Dark Magic Defense for you later.”

Hermione couldn't refuse such a wonderful suggestion.

To maintain her position as the top student in her grade for the long term, she must work even harder than Nietzsche.

After thinking about the recent stable days, the girl nodded mechanically.

“Professor Glendale, you graduated from a magic school in Germany?” Hermione took a small bite and found the bread to be crisp, neither burnt nor soft, so she opened the refrigerator and scooped a large spoonful of ice cream onto it.

What? Cold foods are forbidden in the morning?

Hermione completely forgot her mother's words and began enjoying her ice cream sandwich.

“I started in Durmstrang, then dropped out early to travel to England, where I met Albus, and later studied black magic in France,” Grindelwald succinctly summarized his life.

"Drop out of school?" Hermione was sensitive to this word.

It's important to know that Durmstrang is a recognized school of dark magic.

"Germany was very conservative at the time. Because of World War I, Muggles were more sensitive to issues of bloodline. I didn't like that kind of environment, so because of some... you know, I used my self-invented black magic to teach a few people a lesson."

This is a question he has been pondering for many years:

Wizards and Muggles cannot be completely separated; both are affected by each other's problems.

Despite his years of isolation, Grindelwald's smooth talk remained undiminished; he quickly portrayed himself as a victim of his circumstances. Hermione felt a surge of sympathy for him.

But this sympathy vanished because of the subsequent 'preview'.

Grindelwald placed the diary containing Riddle on the living room table and moved all the surrounding objects away.

“Take out your wand and cast the Crucifixion Charm on it.” He said calmly, “Don’t worry about the Threads spell. I cast a spell here before I went to sleep last night. No spell can affect this place.”

His calm demeanor made Hermione think of some unpleasant things.

“Isn’t this a preview?” she said incredulously. “Are you planning to teach your students how to use the Cruciatus Curse? It’s the Unforgivable Curse, it’s… No, I won’t just use that kind of spell.”

Hermione was well aware of the damage the Crucifixion Curse could cause, to the point that her teeth were still chattering.

It wasn't that she completely rejected it, but rather that she resolutely rejected this kind of use without any reason.

“Do you know this?” Grindelwald asked, pointing to the diary.

"A Horcrux containing Voldemort's soul, a self-aware Horcrux," she said calmly.

“That’s right, so you don’t need to have any sympathy.” His voice seemed to come from near and far, echoing in the girl’s ears. “You should see dark magic as a tool, that’s what I’m going to teach you.”

It doesn't require a deeply memorable feeling, but rather a strong personal will.

A wizard's personal will imbues magic with power, which can inflict damage, healing, restoration, or certain status effects on a target, or even death...

"Willpower is the key; this is the first lesson I want to teach you."

Grindelwald raised his hand without making a sound, his eyes showing no emotion, as casually as if he were eating or drinking. A crimson light illuminated Hermione's eyes.

The Cruciatus Curse immediately disappeared into Riddle's diary.

"Ah!!" The diary let out a shrill scream, and then a lot of black smoke rose from it.

The black smoke quickly formed a blurry, colorful figure. Tom Riddle was seen glaring angrily at the two people. He looked at Hermione first, only to find her extremely angry.

So he turned his attention to another person.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Riddle yelled frantically. “The Crucifixion Curse? Huh? I’m going to tell Dumbledore!”

This struck Hermes as utterly absurd.

Voldemort's spirit was like a child threatening his classmates, yelling that he would tell the teacher about being bullied.

“See, it’s that simple…” Grindelwald ignored him and turned to instruct him, “Emotions are a direct way to seduce will, but Riddle and I don’t know each other, I just want to have some fun.”

'Play around' is a correction—use the Heart-Piercing Mantra.

Riddle immediately understood the situation; clearly, he was now merely a tool Grindelwald was using to teach his students.

He hurriedly said, "You can't teach her like that!"

“I’ve taught far more people than you have,” Grindelwald said.

“Yes, that’s right. It wouldn’t be a problem for anyone else, but not Granger!” Riddle said in a low voice. “She was tortured by Voldemort…you know? You’re just hurting her again in the same way!”

Grindelwald actually took his words to heart.

Seeing the girl glaring at him angrily while trying to suppress her discomfort, he couldn't help but fall silent—who knew Hermione had gone through something like this?