Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

When Voldemort returns, how many people will, out of fear or admiration, willingly reveal their wounds?

Nietzsche followed the crowd into the foyer, not participating in the discussion of the Triwizard Tournament. His mind was suddenly filled with crazy ideas... Even if he and Moriarty didn't give a reason, Voldemort would.

“Dobby.” He walked past his friends who were discussing things around the fireplace in the lounge and returned to his bedroom.

The house-elf appeared before him in the next second.

How did you find your jobs?

“A house-elves without owners will ask the wizards, and if they need it, we will swear the house-elf decree,” Dobby said honestly.

“Then go... Dobby, the Dark Lord's mark has appeared, we must be prepared.”

He realized that if war was inevitable, it was best to control it.

“But if Dobby swears an oath to other wizards, then Dobby would be betraying Holmes, and Dobby can’t do that.” It opened its round eyes and said aggrievedly, “Unless Holmes gives Dobby his freedom.”

"You're working for me, and swearing oaths to others is part of your job..."

"Mr. Holmes suddenly needs Dobby to do something, and the foolish Dobby can't tell if this is 'part of the job,' or what if a wizard orders Dobby to harm Mr. Holmes?"

Dobby doesn't understand any of this.

Dobby knew that he needed to tell him what he had done and what he had heard, and that was the limit. House-elves are all single-minded and have a hard time distinguishing between what is right and wrong.

They only know how to do what their owners ask them to do.

Dobby felt conflicted about having to work for others while also working for Sherlock Holmes.

Nietzsche wasn't bothered. He took a piece of paper from the drawer and filled it with agreements, including but not limited to:

"He has the right to rest," "Nietzsche has no right to grant Dobby freedom unless Dobby requests it, given that Dobby has done nothing wrong," "Dobby's work for others is merely a pretense"...

It's very detailed, just so that more people can understand it.

Nietzsche stopped writing the 65th instruction and carefully handed the temporary document to Dobby.

"Everything is for the purpose of serving your work. If necessary, you may harm me at the request of others, unless I make you carry out Secret Order No. 66."

"Instruction No. 66 isn't written here?" Dobby blinked.

"Directive 66 - If a wizard supports Voldemort or acts against my interests, you have the right to use deadly force to betray your master upon receiving a direct and explicit order from me."

Chapter 221 Professor Moody

(Look at me! It's my birthday today and I'm still writing!)

I would like to thank every reader who has supported me and come this far, and thank you for all the blessings you have sent and the blessings you will send.

------ (The above is not included in the word count)

The next morning, Dobby left with a file containing 65 instructions.

Following Nietzsche's instructions, it will recruit some unemployed house-elves from the magical world to find new masters. Since wizards are happy to treat them as slaves, Nietzsche will go along with it.

However, while having breakfast and discussing the new timetable with Hermione, he didn't tell her about Dobby.

“Harry said Sirius took him out to play during the summer holidays, and they even went to the Quidditch World Cup together,” Hermione said cheerfully, hearing laughter behind her. “Although it didn’t end well…”

He sensed the envy in her voice, so he comforted her by spreading butter on her bread.

"Don't worry, you got a free tour of Belfast and Heilbronn's largest arms factory."

“Yes, thanks for reminding me. It’s been a very fulfilling summer vacation.” Hermione glanced at him. “I bet Potter was also dragged out of bed by Sirius at three or four in the morning and waited at the amusement park entrance until it opened.”

"It's not impossible."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the sandwich was magically flattened, and the mayonnaise inside splattered onto Nietzsche's face.

Then Hermione kept making strange muttering noises, such as "you boys".

It seems that this matter still bothers Hermione, but he doesn't understand what else is unsatisfactory. At least Hermione has a Phoenix Patronus, while he only has all sorts of terrifying moments of death.

Just then, Draco, Goyle, and Crabbe walked over and sat down opposite them.

After the summer vacation, Dracoby was even more gloomy than before. If he dyed his hair black and grew taller, he would definitely replace Snape as the new 'most unpopular wizard' at Hogwarts.

“Do you remember how those people treated Muggles?” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“They took off the Muggles’ pants and hung them in the air!” Goyle’s flesh jiggled with every laugh. “It doesn’t matter…the Ministry of Magic will just erase all their memories anyway.”

Hermione had a stern face, much like Professor McGonagall who monitors students for cheating.

"See you tonight." She slammed the plate on the table and left.

Nietzsche gritted his teeth, wiped the mayonnaise and cheese off his face with a napkin, and stared intently at Malfoy. But Malfoy was not afraid at all; instead, he comically raised his hands with a malicious smile on his face.

It seems they've forgotten how bad their relationship was.

"Oh, you want to attack me for no reason?" Draco Malfoy leaned forward. "Minister Fudge told me you caught the murderer who hurt my father. In a way, I should thank you."

"What tricks are you playing?" Nietzsche said coldly.

"Me? I just wanted to ask out of curiosity... why don't you hand over the murderer? Those purgers..."

Nietzsche couldn't reveal that Moriarty was the one who instigated the Obscurials. If the Ministry of Magic found out that the real culprit was being "imprisoned" by the British government, they would certainly become even more hostile towards Muggles.

And what about those who remain silent?

"The most regrettable thing is that your father didn't die that day."

"Hmph...that person is back~" Malfoy looked at him resentfully and smiled sinisterly, "Someone like you will definitely be the first to die."

"I don't know if he'll come looking for me, but you're not getting anywhere right now."

Nietzsche crossed his arms and watched as Professor Moody approached. Moody, once the Ministry's most outstanding Auror, was unlikely to be pleased with Malfoy's words, but he didn't bother to offer any advice and instead focused on watching the spectacle unfold.

Moody silently approached Malfoy from behind, then suddenly lunged forward and slammed Malfoy's head onto the table.

“Let me see, a potential Death Eater, huh?” Moody’s stitched-up face looked even more terrifying with anger. “A little brat like you would be the first to be killed on the battlefield.”

"Let me go! Let me go now! My dad..."

"Your father is a bedridden good-for-nothing!"

The professor pinned him to the table with one hand, rendering him unable to move. The loud noise drew the attention of many students, who all turned to look at the Slytherin table, including Professor McGonagall, who had just entered.

“Professor Moody?” McGonagall rushed in from the entrance of the hall.

Moody released Malfoy, kicking the floor a few times with the wooden leg that had been replaced by wood, and watched resentfully as Malfoy escaped from McGonagall's side.

"It's no big deal," the professor roared nonchalantly. "I'll be keeping an eye on you! Malfoy...you're the first person I've been targeting since I retired! You'll learn what happens when you anger an Auror!"

"You're exaggerating a bit. They're just putting on a show; there's no need for them to go to such lengths."

“Tell me what? Minerva, I don’t think so. I’ve captured far too many dark wizards… And you have to understand, these are special times. Dumbledore didn’t invite me here just for show.” Moody limped back.

No professor has ever dared to be so direct and so blunt. How should I put it... no wonder he's an Auror.

McGonagall cursed Dumbledore in her mind, but what could she do? Seeing the students' eyes begin to sparkle, she suddenly felt a sense of unease.

"He's been in a lot of battles and is very sensitive. If you're scared, understand that's not his intention... He even thought this year that there were aggressive dark wizards hiding in a pile of junk bins."

"Scared?" George swallowed his pie. "This is so cool!"

McGonagall sighed sadly; she knew it... her worst fears had come true.

It seems her job has taken on another task—to take better care of Moody.

No matter what she thought, she couldn't stop Gryffindor's praise. George and Fred didn't even finish their breakfast before rushing upstairs with their schoolbags... This was the Weasley twins' most studious moment.

“Don’t worry, Professor McGonagall, I don’t think Malfoy is particularly aggressive,” he reassured her.

“Mr. Holmes, I didn’t mean for you to compare your classmates to a dumping ground.” McGonagall helplessly covered her forehead, her lament growing louder. “You’re the class that’s given me the most trouble.”

“Although I hadn’t thought of it that way, your analogy makes a lot of sense…a trash can? That sounds more appropriate.”

He's also a friend of Principal Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's friends are always the opposite of him in terms of personality.

It's strange, how did they become friends?

Nietzsche pulled out the timetable.

Defense Against the Dark Arts class... found it, first period this afternoon!

Chapter 222 The Soul-Stealing Curse Makes its Debut

The little snakes stared longingly at the clock on the wall, and as soon as Professor McGonagall uttered the last word "get out of class dismissed," they swarmed out.

The real highlight came in the afternoon, when they were the first to take Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Nietzsche glanced at the students huddled around him and thought to himself how lucky Professor McGonagall hadn't seen this scene—it was the first time he'd ever seen anyone scrambling for a front-row seat in a Hogwarts classroom, and the other professors would surely be heartbroken if they did.

"Thump...thump..."

"They're here!" Theodore heard the footsteps coming from the prosthetic leg and immediately told everyone to be quiet.

At Hogwarts, even Snape, who only talks a lot, is not someone anyone dares to mess with, so naturally no one would want to provoke a professor who dares to beat up students on the spot. Nietzsche believed that 'Dumpster' was the first and the last.

As Moody entered, he scanned the classroom with his magical eyes and, without consulting anyone, tossed the books that were on their desks into the desks.

"I've heard that you've learned how to deal with dark creatures like Boggarts and Hinkpunks, as well as some common black magic dispelling spells. But that's far from enough. You're about to face the most dangerous black wizards!"

"Among you, who has experience facing a dark wizard?"

The Slytherins looked at each other and shook their heads in unison.

"Seriously? There's not a single person here?" Moody raised his voice again.

The first lesson was bound to end there. Nietzsche saw Grindelwald silently tug at Moody's sleeve, then point to himself... He tried desperately to hide his face behind Theodore, but still couldn't avoid it.

After receiving the answer, Moody became even more suspicious.

"You...have ever dealt with a dark wizard?" he asked curiously.

At Hogwarts, which Dumbledore himself guaranteed was the "safest" place, he faced Voldemort head-on twice. Fortunately, Sirius Black wasn't a Death Eater, otherwise it would have been the third time.

However, Nietzsche's focus was not on Voldemort, but on someone else.