Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

The fire dragon was something he brought, but it doesn't belong to him.

The centaur was his friend, but now he no longer belongs to him.

While Nietzsche was with the dragon, Hagrid put the dying mouse in his pocket and went to the basement alone. He stood at the door of the dark office, swallowed hard, and muttered to himself.

'Severus, I'd like to ask you... No, I'm not that close to him yet... Professor Snape? Yes, that's good.' He was rehearsing the conversation in his mind.

But then, the door was suddenly pushed open, and Hagrid, who was in a daze, was bumped on the nose.

"You little rascal..."

Because the first person he saw was Draco Malfoy, he subconsciously blurted out the words he was thinking. But this time, the other man didn't curse back. He acted as if he hadn't heard him and just ran away with red eyes.

Immediately afterward, Hagrid saw the hands that pushed the door open, and he gave an awkward smile.

“Don’t worry, Hagrid.” Snape’s gaze was level with Hagrid’s, only able to see his chest. “I can understand what a half-giant who was abandoned as a child might say.”

Hagrid's initial feeling of apology vanished instantly.

"Help me, it's dying." He pulled the mouse out of his pocket and stretched out his hand blankly.

“In that case, I only have one suggestion…” Snape’s eyes twitched, and he took a few steps back.

"What advice?"

“Go to the Forbidden Forest…and catch a few more damned rats for your stinking Magical Creatures Protection class!” Snape gritted his teeth, his voice rising slightly. “Or go find your all-powerful Dumbledore!”

He wondered what it was about, but it turned out that the reason this stupid giant was looking for him was to resurrect a rat.

This is an insult!

Hagrid gripped the doorframe with his other hand, took a few deep breaths, and continued, "This is Ron's pet. It was originally with me, but it slipped out and got bitten by the giant spider..."

"That rat from the Weasleys?" Snape withdrew his hand from the wand he was about to reach for.

Nietzsche said that only you can make this antidote.

Snape was pleased with these words—only him, of course, did Hogwarts have a second Potions Master?

He then frowned and let Hagrid in, placing the rat on his table. Normally, unless the poisoning was stopped immediately by other means, the rat would die on the spot within minutes.

“You’re really stupid…” Snape mocked. “You can leave now. You can have Nietzsche come over later.”

"Yeah, yeah, I can't make an antidote~" Hagrid nodded impatiently and left the basement without looking back.

However, he wasn't mocking Hagrid for not knowing how to make potions, but rather for Hagrid's complete lack of understanding of the venom of the eight-eyed spider.

After hearing the footsteps disappear, Snape hesitated for a moment, but still drew his wand, used the transformed snake rope to bind the rat's limbs, and pulled it into the air.

Then the wand emitted a beam of blue light, and in an instant, the rat covered in white ash began to writhe from its head, followed by its limbs and torso.

Not long after, a short, fat man who had fallen into a deep sleep appeared.

“Peter Pettigrew…” Snape took a bottle of sobering potion from the shelf and poured it into the other’s mouth.

He could no longer contain his excitement.

The potion worked quickly, and Peter woke up soon after. In his blurry vision, he saw Snape's twisted, malicious smile, and he couldn't help but shudder, making a rat-like running motion in the air.

But Snape poured himself a glass of wine and watched the scene with great interest.

“You’ve been poisoned by the eight-eyed giant spider… but before that, you must have used magic to stop the poison from spreading, right?” he said slowly. “So, the venom of the eight-eyed giant spider is only suitable for synthesizing poisons.”

But Peter wasn't in the mood to listen to Snape's lecture.

He was trying to escape death, so he instinctively sought any help he could get from his surroundings.

"help me..."

"Of course... I will definitely save them, but before Nietzsche arrives..."

With a flick of his wrist, Snape cut a gash in his buttocks, and black blood mixed with the venom of the eight-eyed spider flowed out, dripping into the bottle below.

Normally, after being bled out, the injured person will be so weak that they will faint.

But Peter couldn't. He had been given a whole bottle of stimulant beforehand, leaving him in a semi-comatose state. He was aware of what he was going through and could clearly hear the sound of blood dripping.

This torment caused Peter Pettigrew to burst into tears after a while.

"Please, don't kill me." His muscles convulsed with fear. "Severus? Please... I didn't mean to hurt you..."

But Snape acted as if he hadn't heard, pulled up a chair, and sat down in front of Pettigrew.

"You won't die, and I won't let you die, but I'll at least collect the interest owed over the past twelve years... for each and every one of you."

Chapter 196 The Tragic Rat

As soon as Nietzsche opened the office door, he was hit by a strong smell of blood. The dimly lit room had become Peter the Little Star's hell—he was hanging in the air, being bled like a pig.

Upon closer inspection, one can see dozens of uniformly deep and shallow cuts on his body, making him resemble a torn umbrella leaking water to the ground.

"Professor, you didn't kill him, did you?"

Nietzsche knocked on the door, waking Dean Snape, who was dozing in his chair.

Goodness, he's sleeping quite soundly.

He rubbed his eyes, stood up, and gently patted Peter Pettigrew's pale, stiff face. Nietzsche then saw the other man let out a faint groan. Snape crossed his arms and raised his chin.

'Isn't he still alive?' — This is the meaning conveyed by the dean.

“Bloodletting was the most common treatment method used by wizards and Muggles before the invention of an antidote in ancient times,” he said softly. “Anyway, it won’t cause him to lose too much blood, so let’s just consider it as a way to lose weight.”

The snake-like rope retracted, causing Peter Pettigrew to fall.

Although he was still conscious, the constant 'drip-drip' sound of his own blood dripping was already causing him to begin to break down.

Peter tried to stand up, but his lower body was paralyzed, and he couldn't muster any strength.

“I’m not the murderer…children, you’ve wronged me…” Peter Pettigrew slumped to the cold ground, using his two fat, short hands, each missing a finger, to claw at and grab Nietzsche’s shoes.

If it were an ordinary student, seeing someone in such a miserable state, they would feel some pity.

Nietzsche, however, did not. He kicked Little Star hard, sending him tumbling over. He had no sympathy for the man who had lived a life of ignominy for twelve years; in his eyes, the man was nothing more than a tool.

Even the last thought Peter had about escaping school was extinguished by Ni through psychological suggestion.

"I find it hard to believe someone who has been hiding in Animagus for twelve years."

“No! It’s because Blake and his henchmen want to kill me!” Peter cried out in a chilling, baby-like voice. “Please…please, Severus, don’t torture me…”

Hearing the approaching footsteps beside him, he curled up into a ball and trembled like a leaf.

“It seems you’ve tormented him quite a bit,” Nietzsche said casually, biting on a licorice wand.

"Hmph... I'd rather it was Black." Snape's eyes gleamed with madness, and he was struggling to maintain his composure. "Peter! I want to kill you with my own hands!"

Following Nietzsche in were Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Sirius Black.

They were all shocked by the madness of Snape. Even Black, who always liked to banter with him, instinctively shut his mouth and remained silent after seeing Peter Pettigrew's miserable state.

Because the headmaster's appearance is like that of a true, stereotypical Slytherin—mad, ruthless, bloodthirsty, and cruel.

“He’s actually still alive,” Professor McGonagall exclaimed, then turned around and said, “By the way, does Weasley know about this?”

"Considering the potential impact on Ron and Mr. Weasley, I kept them away from the center of the incident," Nietzsche calmly replied. "They will only know the truth from twelve years ago."

That's all you need to know...

“Very good.” McGonagall nodded.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore looked on with pity, sighing as he gazed at Snape: "Severus?"

“Little Pettigrew isn’t dead, and that’s enough for us, Headmaster,” Snape said glibly. “You’re worried about the life of a traitor who killed dozens of Muggles? Of course, it’s not impossible.”

His cold gaze, like that of a hungry viper, passed over the principal's shoulder and fixed on the gaunt Sirius behind him.

But now, this venomous snake has tasted blood; its taste is called 'revenge'.

“I’m worried about you, Severus. You and I both know that hatred is a poison.” Dumbledore glanced quickly at Nietzsche, who was standing against the wall, and muttered to himself.

Because Nietzsche didn't call them immediately, giving Snape plenty of time to 'play it by himself'.

This change puzzled Dumbledore greatly; he couldn't tell whether Nietzsche was going with the flow or doing it intentionally... But either way, it was dangerous, only the former's methods were more sophisticated than the latter's.

In fact, Nietzsche had already understood the resentment parasitizing Headmaster Snape when he saw the Marauder's Map.

Combined with Snape's dislike for Harry, who had never been exposed to the wizarding world, during their first year, all these clues tell him that the four Gryffindor 'Ravagers' had a grudge against Snape back then.

Nietzsche was still unsure of the reason for Snape's hatred, but that didn't matter, Peter Pettigrew was his 'truth serum'.

“Peter, you can’t fool your own memory.” He gently raised his wand and pressed the other man down into the chair.

“No need to say anything more to him!” Snape pressed his wand against the other man’s temple. “That stupid Potter used to like you so much, huh? And you got her killed! Peter, look me in the eye!!”

Under the pressure on his head, Peter Pettigrew turned his head away, trembling.

In the instant their eyes met, Nietzsche discovered that Dean Snape, like Dumbledore, possessed a captivating gaze that seemed to see into one's soul, only his eyes were darker and more insane.

she?

It seems there's more to the story between Snape and the Gryffindor raiders of yesteryear.

“But what can I do, Professor Dumbledore…” Peter Pettigrew gasped as his memories were being extracted. “Voldemort threatened me, but I’ve never been as powerful as you all.”

He knew he had no way to escape. After suffering inhuman torture, he could only pin his hopes for survival on the respected headmaster of Hogwarts.

“You betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort. If it were me, I would have killed you,” Black said, clenching his fist.

"Ha! Haha... How great is Black..." Peter Pettigrew, because his brain had been rummaged through, convulsed like a stroke patient, his hands withered, and his teeth occasionally biting his tongue.

Blood mixed with saliva began to flow from the corner of his mouth. Professor McGonagall could not bear to watch any longer and could only temporarily stop the blood that was slowly flowing from his body.

The whole scene was similar to the image in Blake's mind of a group of people gathered at the Potter's house.

However, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black changed too much in the twelve years.

Snape was slowly extracting the other's memories, but at the same time, Nietzsche noticed that the way he looked at Black was becoming even more terrifying... no, even beyond the hatred he felt for Peter Pettigrew.

Chapter 197 The Slytherin Feud

The memory that Snape forcibly pulled out was projected onto the projector as a holographic image, showing everyone in the room that night at the Potter's house—and upon comparison, it was found to be completely consistent with Black's memory.

In other words, Peter the Little Star was indeed the one who kept the secret.