Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Grindelwald had heard some things about Hermione Granger from Dumbledore, and after today's encounter and understanding, he felt it was a pity—Granger should have performed much better.

"She's a good kid... If we could channel her willpower into spells, she might surpass Voldemort."

“Perhaps,” Nietzsche said somberly, burying his face in Granger’s blanket. “Perhaps she will inherit some professorships; after all, she was a studious Gryffindor.”

This thought dispelled Grindelwald's sleepiness.

Yes, he lost to Dumbledore his whole life, so why couldn't he salvage some face before he died?

Not only was reconciliation not enough, he also wanted to disgust them, for example... to take Dumbledore's most beloved student under his own control, and then surpass that wizard who liked to use magical creatures to play tricks.

“Indeed, she is very suitable for my Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Grindelwald said boastfully.

Nietzsche: ? ? ?

Is it possible that he's referring to Minerva McGonagall and Felius Flitwick, and has something to do with you, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who changes every year...?

But no matter what, Grindelwald has changed a lot for the better.

Perhaps he genuinely believed Hermione was a promising talent, because in the days that followed, he would always talk about things that weren't in "Defense Against the Dark Arts," and he would explain advanced knowledge in a thorough and easy-to-understand way.

Even Hermione, who was very dissatisfied with his behavior, had to admire the clear logic in his speech.

'How could he not be powerful? After all, he's the Dark Lord who started the First Wizarding War,' Riddle thought to himself.

"I still need to handle the press conference with Howard this afternoon." Nietzsche always goes out in the afternoon. "If we're lucky, we'll get military orders after the first batch of products comes out."

Especially the people at the British Admiralty, they seemed to be no longer satisfied with just sailing at sea.

"Are you coming back for dinner tonight?" The brown dumpling popped out from a pile of brown paper covered with notes.

Riddle was passing the time by teasing Mercury, and as he listened to their conversation, a wicked smile crept across his face—these two mud-bloods were talking like such a loving couple.

“I will.” Nietzsche had barely taken a step when he noticed the wicked grin and warned, “You better behave yourself at home. I haven’t even started settling scores with you from last time.”

Riddle's defenses were breached.

He spat out a non-existent spit and roared angrily, "What do you take me for?"

But he regretted it as soon as he yelled.

Grindelwald glanced at him sideways—pretending not to know anything, more like their son.

Fortunately, Hermione and Nietzsche didn't focus on his arrogant attitude...

The two exchanged a quick glance, then immediately turned away and went about their own business. Hermione, in particular, belatedly realized that her conversation with Nietzsche seemed to have occurred with her parents as well.

Grindelwald glanced at the two of them, a hint of nostalgia lingering in his mind...

Chapter 144 The Wizarding World Today

Grindelwald had seen enough cars and streets.

Not long after Nietzsche left, the little old man pestered Hermione, insisting that they go see Diagon Alley.

"I'm a German wizard from France, can't I even look at your magical world?" he said matter-of-factly. "Come on, come on, since your wand is made of grapevine wood, you can't just shut yourself off from the world!"

These days, he teaches in the morning and wanders around in the afternoon.

They didn't mind the fatigue and had already toured all of London in just a few days. Apart from the novelty and after taking the subway and cars a few times, they used Phantom to get around most of the time.

The helpless Queen of Gryffindor had no choice but to temporarily assume the role of diplomat.

In this not-so-sunny England, Diagon Alley welcomes two 'special' guests—the first Dark Lord and the incomplete second Dark Lord.

Sometimes Riddle really wanted to let her know who 'Glendale' really was, just to see what kind of expression she would have.

"A butterbeer... Little Abbot! Keep refilling me!" The Leaky Cauldron was packed with wizards, who were arm in arm, waving their beer mugs.

The yellow foam settled on the table first, followed by the overflowing beer and whiskey.

This place is completely different from when I first arrived in the first year. Back then, most of the people sitting here were elderly ladies sipping sherry, but now it's filled with young people and middle-aged male wizards.

"There are a few guests on the second floor who need dinner. Could you deliver some to them?" the bartender, Tom, called out.

Hannah wandered between the bar and the tables, slipped on the floor her mother had just mopped, and the out-of-control glasses fell from the air.

But she didn't hear the crisp sound of glass breaking.

It's Hermione! She walked over, wand in hand!

"Thank you," Hannah said gratefully, wiping her sweat. "It's been so busy here lately."

"Looks surprised?"

Hermione watched her busy at work and felt genuinely happy for Abbott's family's bountiful harvest.

“It used to be much easier than this. I don’t know why, but I heard that many wizards have found new jobs, so this place has become a must-pass for them.” Hannah waved her wand again and sent the cups to her father.

Of course.

After all, those wizards found new jobs, still in Westminster, very close to the Leaky Cauldron.

The Leaky Cauldron was the closest road to the wizarding world, so it naturally became a gathering place for these wizards. Hermione thought that she had also helped her friends gain some benefits.

“My father said that there are almost as many people coming here as there are at Mrs. Partridge’s Tea House in Hogsmeade.”

This wasn't the first time Hermione had heard of this wizarding village.

Back in school, I would often hear George and Fred say that there were many secret passages in the school that led to that place, so their little business always had an endless supply of prank props to sell.

"They work for Muggles?" Grindelwald glanced back at the bustling street.

"I heard some wizards sold off Muggle houses." Hannah gave the old wizard a strange look. "Alright, I have to go help out... There are no rooms available here lately, they're all booked!"

What exactly does "prime location" mean?

Being situated at the crossroads of Muggles and wizards is a natural geographical advantage.

Unfortunately, the only people who come here are wizards from Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, and parents who occasionally bring their young wizards.

However, the locations where wizards work are actually quite common, and Hannah didn't suspect Hermione, after all, St. Mungo's Hospital is also located in a Muggle department store...

She knew Granger was very capable, but not to the point of starting a company.

Hermione forcefully pulled Grindelwald inside, and after knocking on the bricks, she looked at the slowly cracking stone door and said, "Looks like the secrecy was pretty good."

This statement is practically a showdown.

Goodness, Grindelwald hadn't expected her to have this idea.

"What if the Ministry of Magic finds out?" Grindelwald walked down the cobblestone street.

“To correct you, they were working for me and Nietzsche, not ordinary people,” Hermione said, grinning from ear to ear. “So we didn’t break the Secret Code, since wizards don’t have direct contact with the outside world.”

It's a clever trick, but it works very well.

Grindelwald began to appreciate Hermione's meticulous thinking.

They soon found themselves unable to move forward, as a group of wizard reporters with cameras crowded ahead, scribbling and drawing in notebooks with countless magical quills. Grindelwald, who was being blocked, grew increasingly impatient.

"Excuse me..."

He was just about to walk forward when the crowd suddenly pushed him back, causing him to stumble several steps.

"Get out of the way, all of you... get back!" A woman in pink pushed her way out of the crowd, shouting shrilly, "We will investigate Blake's escape thoroughly, please remain calm!"

"Was there any assistance from Lucius Malfoy in this?" a reporter pressed.

"No, of course not." Fudge wiped the sweat from his forehead and forced a smile at the camera.

"Why are you so sure?"

"Because...because..."

Fudge looked troubled and didn't want to say it.

But the toad Umbridge, standing nearby, shrieked, "Mr. Malfoy isn't in the same guard area! How could this have anything to do with him?"

They all ran off towards the Leaky Cauldron, leaving Hermione deep in thought.

Grindelwald casually reached out and quietly took one of the reporters' notebooks, which contained a report on the 'Sirius Black prison break incident'.

Hermione's attention, however, was focused on Lucius Malfoy.

"Not the same floor?" She watched the group's backs. "It seems Malfoy spent a lot of money on this."

The explanation given to the public was that they were sent to Azkaban, which was accomplished, but the area where they were placed was not where the Death Eaters stayed, but rather the outermost layer of Azkaban, where they were imprisoned with ordinary dark wizards and thieves.

She glanced at the draft above, which contained Blake's story.

“A single spell blew up an entire Muggle street, killing thirteen people, injuring more than twenty, and leaving one missing,” Grindelwald murmured slowly. “Looks like the wizarding world isn’t exactly peaceful these days.”

The two went into Florin's Ice Cream Shop, where the old man and the young man sat outside, each holding their own box, and started eating ice cream.

Grindelwald sighed with emotion, forced to acknowledge the wizards' backwardness, while also greatly admiring Nietzsche and Hermione's foresight... The successive wars, far from making them reflect, had instead made them more conservative.

Hermione turned her head and looked at Professor Glendale's profile; she could sense a kind of loneliness in him.

That kind of loneliness isn't being alone, but rather...

It's like seeing through the future, witnessing the inevitable end of things, feeling powerless to change anything no matter what you do, and suffering the pain of knowing truths that others don't know all by yourself.

"I really don't want to 'retire'~" Grindelwald sighed deeply as he looked at the ice cream in the box.

retire?

Hermione couldn't help but think of Professor Binns, who never retired.

"If you don't want to retire, you might as well become a ghost soon enough." Hermione spread her legs, squinted her eyes, and enjoyed the sweet and sour taste of the strawberry like a cat.

Chapter 145 Only Children Make Choices

Every year before the start of the new semester, the school sends out documents about the new books.

But this year is different, because third-year students will be facing elective courses, and along with the textbooks comes a list of elective courses. And a... Hogsmeade Village Permit Form?

Sherlock, wearing a bathrobe and carrying a bottle of whiskey, walked over. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a ball of fire spewed from his throat.

"Hiccup~ Fire Dragon... Whiskey..." He squinted, half-dead, and slumped onto the sofa. "I like this specialty. The flames feel warm in my throat. Maybe I should ask Quirinas to buy more next time."

“You almost burned my course selection list!” Nietzsche moved the table further away.