Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Chapter 164 The Hogsmeade Plan

"Hey, what's wrong with you today?"

In the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom at seven o'clock in the evening, Grindelwald looked at Hermione Granger, whose brows never relaxed, whose eyes darted around, and who sighed every now and then, and was quite annoyed.

You know, there are so many people who want to learn from him but aren't even qualified.

"A war spell derived from a weather spell shouldn't be making you so worried, right?"

"I'm just a little tired. The classes and assignments leave me with no energy for anything else," Hermione said with a bitter face. "Besides, Divination isn't as mysterious as you say. Nietzsche has surpassed me in Potions class now."

The desks and chairs in the classroom were all piled up in a corner.

She raised her magic wand high and swung it forcefully toward the front of the podium. Lightning surged from the dragon core string, tearing a wooden figure to pieces.

This is a lie~

In fact, Hermione always felt that the time wasted in the divination class would have been better used for her and Nietzsche's studies, instead of having to cram everything together and not having time to learn anything new.

Grindelwald stood with his hands behind his back, showing no surprise at Hermione's explanation.

“Actually, ‘hardship’ refers not only to the physical, but also to the mental. Trelawney is a descendant of a fortune teller, so she does have some ability... Your biggest problem right now is that you are too restrained.”

He was always so humble and polite that his students hailed him as 'the most qualified Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in the past three years'.

Indeed, in Grindelwald's view, Hermione needs to appropriately unleash part of her nature if she wants to break through. It's not that restraint is wrong, but restraint like Dumbledore's is a bit too rigid.

He always felt that Albus should have been Minister of Magic back then, to make the wizarding world a better place.

"But what should I do?" Hermione gripped her wand tightly, looked at the mess in front of her, and let out a long sigh.

“Who knows? I’m not like you young people.” Grindelwald said, admitting he knew nothing about relationships. “Maybe you should spend some time studying, otherwise he might surpass you.”

She quickly caught the words the professor was saying.

So it seems Nietzsche was indeed learning from others, and doing so while she was struggling with her homework!

"Who?"

"How would I know him?" He waved his hand, restoring the wooden figure to its original state, and continued, "Alright, you have no problem controlling magic, but the power isn't enough... Stop hesitating, be decisive!"

Hermione is always worrying about this and that, which is a major taboo in war magic, greatly reducing its power and making it no different from ordinary poison curses or evil spells.

A blue light flashed across the classroom.

But this time Hermione deviated from her target and gave Riddle, who had just come out for some fresh air, a thorough thrashing.

“Are you all out of your minds? If you keep torturing me, then you can deal with Voldemort yourselves!” Riddle screamed, clutching his chest and feigning ferocity. “Young students are just annoying, just like Ginny Weasley.”

His already blurred figure now has an even greater emptiness in his chest.

Fortunately, he is currently just an image projected from a soul; a normal person would probably be dead by now.

Grindelwald glanced at him, noting that Riddle was quite handsome, but not as good-looking as he was in his youth. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head—Hermione and Voldemort were two extremes, weren't they?

The former is too restrained, the latter is too crazy.

“I remember you were very popular back in school?” Grindelwald said.

“Of course, if Dumbledore hadn’t been watching me, I wouldn’t want to be with that bunch of stupid wizards, they’re just a bunch of…” Riddle pondered the purebloods’ faces and came up with a nickname, “a bunch of goldfish.”

With its striking appearance, flamboyant attire, social butterfly nature, and utter stupidity, it's nothing short of a 'goldfish'.

"Then you should enlighten this confused lady," the old professor said.

“Her?” Riddle poked his empty chest. “Why?”

Give you face.

Unlike Hermione, Grindelwald's good temper was limited to class and a few people.

“You won’t suffer while we study the Horcruxes tonight,” he threatened with a laugh. “Or you can choose another French set menu… Believe me, none of the 'diners' in Paris have said anything bad about it.”

Because all those people are dead.

However, this is a good reason. Riddle is full of the cunning and shrewdness of his youth, which Voldemort calls the part of a 'Muggle,' not the godlike greatness of a 'wizard.'

“Ahem! What troubles this beautiful, gentle, and intelligent lady?” Riddle turned his head and bowed slightly.

Hermione's face turned bright red, her mouth opened and closed, unable to utter a single word for a long time.

“Clearly, she’s worried about breaking her connection with… her friend, whom she’s known since before she came to Hogwarts. What a great bond! If it were me, I would definitely try to win her back,” Grindelwald said on her behalf.

He was so understanding that he didn't even expose the veneer of "friend" that Hermione had pasted on "Nietzsche".

"How effective are the love potions?"

Riddle's approach was extremely violent.

"Why don't you mention the Imperius Curse?" Hermione retorted.

“Uh… this is really tricky. We're wizards, what's wrong with using wizarding methods?” Riddle slapped his forehead. “You don't want to spend the time and effort, but you want someone to be with you, so the only option is a love potion…”

He looked at Hermione and suddenly paused, muttering a few curses under his breath.

He then said with a wicked grin, "Actually, love potions aren't necessarily a bad thing. If he's interested in you too, it won't matter even if he finds out."

That's it?

Was Riddle popular back then because of this kind of tactic?

Hermione seems to know a little secret about Voldemort's youth; if she gave it to the Daily Prophet, it would definitely be a bestseller.

But she certainly wouldn't do that, so as soon as she came out after her tutoring session, she ran into Lavender and her group, who were coming down from the astronomy classroom.

"Weren't you just copying star charts? How come you're suddenly on the third floor?" Lavender turned back to look at the long corridor. "I was just about to tell you some good news..."

"What?" Hermione didn't understand what she meant and quietly put the pocket watch into her pocket.

"Next week, on Halloween Eve, is our Hogsmeade Village open day!" Parvati didn't notice anything unusual; her attention was focused on the wizarding community she had been longing for.

On that day, they will have a whole day without classes or homework...

Perhaps this is a good opportunity?

She simply wanted to take this opportunity to have a proper discussion on academic issues. Of course, if necessary, she would also show off a few of her newly learned war magic techniques to make Nietzsche envious.

"Want to learn? I'll teach you!"

Chapter 165 Date A Live

(I'll be taking a day off this Sunday for the WBG finals. To be honest, I'm very disappointed that the LPL fandom can smear a team like this, so I'm not really interested in WBG winning.)

The key point is—TheShy can reward himself every game, but for me, the championship isn't important; what's important is having fun in the finals.

-----

Hermione's current level of magical skill is indeed related to her state of mind.

Grindelwald's already somewhat hesitant nature, coupled with the trauma he suffered at the hands of Voldemort, made him quite resistant to many powerful spells. Therefore, he needed an external reality to heal the traumatic aftereffects of another reality.

In Dumbledore's words, it's love.

But Nietzsche had no idea what kind of turmoil he was caught up in...

A week before Halloween, Nietzsche was still engrossed in the letters Mercury had brought—about Moriarty's movements, news from Diagon Alley, and Howard's questions.

“Uniting with Muggles to build a magical car factory would definitely accelerate the integration of wizarding and Muggle society.” Granger appeared suddenly behind him like a ghost. “Why didn’t I think of that before… tsk, damn it.”

Nietzsche turned around and looked at the closed door of the Slytherin common room.

Clearly, Granger had used the Disillusionment Charm to follow some little snake in again... Wait, again?

However, when he saw the surprise on the 'crazy' woman's face and heard her clicking her tongue in amazement, he immediately raised his head. After all, he couldn't surpass her in terms of magic, so this was the only time he could show off.

“But you can’t replicate it~” Nietzsche opened the letter and began to read it.

People who make the same effort will not necessarily get the same results.

There's nothing that can be done about it. Unless Granger is in her own world, her father is the 'Savior of Scotland Yard,' and her uncle is the 'British Administrator,' she can't possibly complete the entire plan in such a short time.

A few days ago, Granger would definitely have found some other way to criticize him, but not today.

After reading the letter, Nietzsche suddenly realized that it was fortunate Howard was just an ordinary person. If he were a wizard, this would definitely be a letter with the same roar as Molly Weasley's—filled with Howard's roars.

Why are all the employees wearing black capes?

"As an investor, I can't even get into the factory now!"

But no matter how responsible Nietzsche was, he would still explain each point one by one, such as how the robes those people were wearing were actually work clothes.

Just then, Warrington, who had just finished training at the Quidditch pitch, walked in. He threw his rain-soaked cloak over his shoulder and hung it by the fireplace. He first winked at Nietzsche, then chuckled to his friends.

Granger hid in a corner.

“We’re going to Hogsmeade next weekend, Nietzsche,” Warrington said, pointing to the notice on the door.

"It's just a trip to the wizard village, what's wrong with that?" Nietzsche shrugged, not bothering to put the letter away, but simply leaving it on the table.

“You confused young man, you need some guidance right now... George and Fred both told us this when we played a practice match against Gryffindor. Honestly, I recommend you go to Mrs. Partridge’s Tea House.”

However, someone interrupted him; it was Chaser Derian Pussé.

“No, we should go to the screaming shack!” he said abruptly, arms crossed.

“Haha...yes, it’s definitely a great place.” Warrington nodded firmly, his lips curling into a wider smile than anyone else’s.

Standing in the shadows, Granger seemed to be thinking about something, his brow furrowed in thought.

Nietzsche looked at the group of people and couldn't understand it at all—it was just a trip to a wizard village, was it really necessary to make such a big fuss, as if it were some kind of war mobilization?

But... it doesn't matter!

At least that's what Warrington and his colleagues thought.

“What did those two big mouths, George and Fred, say to you this time?” Nietzsche narrowed his eyes; he sensed something was wrong in an instant.

“It’s nothing, Nietzsche.” Warrington put away his smile, walked up to him with feigned seriousness, and patted him on the shoulder. “You just need to know that we’re always behind you… well, actually I placed a Galleon bet.”

You could tell he was a seasoned gambler the moment he opened his mouth.

The other Slytherin players also stepped forward, as if they were awarding medals to fallen soldiers; some patted Nietzsche on the shoulder, while others pounded his chest.

They're all riddle tellers, only saying half of what they mean.

They chuckled as they walked through the common room, then quickly retreated into Warrington’s dormitory before Nietzsche could erupt in anger.