Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

“That’s right, I heard his name is… Moran, Sebastian Moran.” He pretended to be racking his brains, trying to make himself stand out.

He stared at the professor, hoping to hear something useful from him.

“So it was him…” Moody’s magical blue eyes turned, his distorted face filled with hesitation. “Kid, are you really sure that man’s name is Sebastian Moran?”

It was the first time the students had ever seen such a tough guy show fear and regret.

They all turned their attention to Nietzsche, conjuring up some thrilling images in their minds.

The impression of this man lingered in Nietzsche's mind. In their few encounters, he knew that the man was an ambitious man who would stop at nothing and act decisively—if he could win, he would fight to the death; if he couldn't, he would run away.

It is an enemy who is single-mindedly focused on its goal and never lingers in battle.

This level of competence can only be trained by Aurors.

"Which Death Eater is it?" The one who raised her hand was a strong girl who looked like a bear; she was Bosde, who hung out with Daphne.

“A Death Eater?” Moody laughed, the wounds on his face making him look strange. “His relationship with the Death Eater was simply that of prey and hunter. When he was an Auror, he was notorious for his ruthlessness.”

Nietzsche noticed that he glanced at Malfoy almost imperceptibly.

"You mean 'once'? What was the reason he left the Ministry of Magic?" Nietzsche pressed.

Former Auror, unhealable wounds, a limp... these factors combined make Moody's first impression as fierce.

But once such a person starts to get lost in memories, the atmosphere in the classroom becomes a bit more terrifying. Professor Moody, leaning on his cane, walked to the window, and the gray tone of the sky became his opening remark.

“Although the Aurors’ mission is to capture dark wizards, we try our best to avoid casualties, avoiding killing if possible. But this rule doesn’t apply to Moran; he enjoys the hunt…”

He viciously clawed at the air a few times, mimicking a cat catching a mouse.

He then changed the subject, posing a question: "Do you know why the Ministry of Magic's Division of Executions has this unwritten rule?"

"Because killing too many lives will twist the wizard's mind and gradually corrupt him?" Nietzsche replied uncertainly.

“Slytherin gets five points... Yes, that makes sense. Unless a dark wizard kills, an Auror will retaliate in kind... But Moran won't. Even if the other party begs for mercy and surrenders, he will still kill them.”

Moody suddenly turned around and walked quickly to Nietzsche, his footsteps very hurried.

Theodore and the others next to Nietzsche, under this pressure, gripped their chairs with both hands, their bodies began to lean back unconsciously, holding their breath, immersed in the situation described by the professor.

"But this is the same person... and you... actually survived him..."

"He left the Executive Division because he went mad?" Nietzsche frowned.

He only remembered Moran's extreme calmness, and found it hard to imagine that the other person was a madman.

"It's not that simple. He was expelled from the Auror ranks because he did not accept the Ministry of Magic's verdict and, after the war, ignored the Ministry of Magic's laws and continued to slaughter dark wizards... He killed too many."

Moody rubbed his nose in annoyance, took out his flask, took a swig, and staggered back onto the podium.

The story ends, but Nietzsche is not satisfied with that. However, he also understands that Professor Moody will not continue the story.

To be honest... he suddenly didn't understand why Moran seemed to approve of him, and he even began to understand why Moran attacked the Ministry of Magic—it was partly due to personal grudges.

While Moody was lecturing, Grindelwald quietly moved closer to Nietzsche's desk.

“At that time, there were many wizards who had ties with Voldemort. Even Wizengamot couldn’t possibly arrest them all, let alone kill them outright. That would have severely weakened the wizarding community,” he pointed out the problem directly.

Moran's actions undoubtedly allowed fear to suppress people's fear of Voldemort.

It is indeed a case of killing the chicken to scare the monkey, but killing thirty chickens to warn the remaining seventy monkeys...

“No, I feel something is wrong.” But Nietzsche couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so he could only shake his head and continue listening to Professor Moody’s lecture.

The professor spent a long time creating a tense atmosphere in the classroom, all to keep them alert and focused on what he was about to say.

“Although I don’t know how he survived, not everyone is so lucky. For you, a simple Imperius Curse is enough to cause a stir among you.” Moody turned around.

He pointed his wand at the student and whispered, "Out of body!"

Gore, who was in the back row of the classroom, stood up and suddenly lunged at Crabbe. The two fat men wrestled together, knocking over the other people's desks and chairs.

Interestingly, even though Gore's nose was bleeding from the beating, he didn't stop swinging his fists, as if he didn't feel any pain.

"The Imperius Curse can control a person's soul, making them completely under my control... It seems Gregory Goyle's will isn't so strong, but can you tell? Can you! One day, the people around you will be forced to act!"

Moody suddenly started yelling like a madman, startling the students.

They hid behind Nietzsche like a group of groundhogs, all staring at Grindelwald.

Grindelwald also enjoyed their gazes—expectant, full of hope, as if he were the only option, the savior of the classroom... Nietzsche heard a mocking laugh coming from Grindelwald.

'Riddle is laughing at us again,' Nietzsche thought.

"Alright~ Look at you guys, the Imperius Curse is already the easiest to guard against among the Unforgivable Curses." Grindelwald snapped his fingers, and Golder immediately came to his senses.

He stared blankly at the professor and his classmates, then covered his nose and rolled on the ground.

"Who hit me?"

"You hit me suddenly!" Crabbe kicked him away and staggered back a little.

This move stunned Moody; before he could even react, the Imperius Curse was lifted so easily.

But that wasn't all. In this ruthless realm of dark magic, Grindelwald was always the most skilled, and his proud specialty quickly drew everyone's attention.

"The Imperius Curse is less effective than a Stunning Curse for those with strong willpower. You'll have to rely on your brains... to force yourselves to wake up from your slumber!"

But this was just a minor incident and did not prevent Moody from introducing the other two Unforgivable Curses.

"So, does anyone here know about the Cruciatus Curse and the Killing Curse? Hmm?" The professor was annoyed by Grindelwald's interruption. He sneered, "The Cruciatus Curse, just the name tells you how cruel it is..."

No one dared to look him in the eye, fearing they might become the next test subject of the curse.

For the rest of the time, they focused on taking notes. The Slytherins showed no displeasure at Moody's dark magic, even Goyle, who had just been controlled, was in awe of the professor.

After they left the classroom, they began to excitedly discuss the Soul-Stealing Curse.

Chapter 223 Riddle's laughter was particularly grating.

Students who have taken Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts class are less interested in other classes. They always have the Unforgivable Curse on their lips, talking about it with relish, and imitating the professor by repeating the actions of dark wizards.

Moody kept his promise—he would keep an eye on Malfoy, and any trouble that arose in class due to the demonstration of dark magic would occur around Malfoy.

"Maybe I should prepare to deal with this..." Hermione, who had also finished class, grabbed a few books on Muggle Studies and headed up to the eighth floor.

After hearing about Moody's lectures, she was initially skeptical, but then came to believe them.

To be honest, it's not without its benefits to learn about the Imperius Curse, Cruciatus Curse, and Killing Curse early on. I've heard that some graduates can't even cast the standard Iron Mantra.

“Compared to you, I think Harry Potter is the one Professor Moody is thinking about,” Nietzsche comforted her. “Don’t forget his influence among wizards; he’s a symbol of victory and hope.”

"Maybe he'll prefer the top student in the grade."

"Then you should just hope you won't be liked, in case of the Crucifixion Curse..."

"Oh, don't worry about that." Hermione said confidently, skipping along the eighth-floor corridor. "Ever since my Patronus has a physical form, the effects of the Cruciatus Curse have weakened considerably, and I've been in great spirits."

The two arrived at the Room of Requirement. Sirius Black, who had been hiding there last year, was no longer there, so this place became their secret base—it was not even visible on the Marauder's Map.

Nietzsche piled the basilisk scales by the fireplace and began to forge the remaining parts of the armor and the helmet.

The faint flames slowly melted the scales and poured them into the mold. The temperature in the entire room began to rise as the armor was being made, causing Hermione, who was sitting by the bookshelf flipping through her white magic notes, to break out in a sweat.

She took off her outer school robe, leaving only her knee-length plaid kilt and white shirt.

"The Ministry of Magic believes the Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup was just a... prank?" Hermione opened the latest newspaper and read it carefully.

The crumpled sound of the Prophet's newspaper drew Nietzsche's gaze away from her bent legs.

Just then, a young girl appeared in the portrait hanging above the fireplace. She looked at the two people sitting there, grinned, and stammered, "Headmaster Dumbledore is looking for you."

After saying that, she ran away shyly before Nietzsche and Hermione could reply.

This wasn't the first time he'd seen this girl. Last year, she frequently visited the Room of Requirement, and the position of her portrait never changed with the room's layout, as if it were the only constant there.

However, he also did not see this mysterious girl anywhere else in the school.

“She ran off before she even gave the password,” Hermione said.

It was already evening when the two walked out of the House of Requirement. However, they didn't need a password because the gargoyle at the entrance jumped aside automatically when it saw them arrive.

In the headmaster's office, Dumbledore paced back and forth anxiously in front of the fireplace, his hands behind his back.

The most surprising thing was Riddle, who was released. When he saw the two of them come in, he pretended to be a gentleman and gave a slight bow, but Hermione didn't fall for it.

“You’ve finally arrived.” Dumbledore paused only briefly before continuing his pace. “The situation is a bit tense… some butterbeer? No, too much sweetness at night isn’t good…”

He looked like a strange old man talking to himself; Nietzsche and Hermione rarely saw the headmaster show such a flustered expression.

Looking around the office, he found that there was no one else there except Riddle, and even the walls with portraits of past principals were covered by a magical curtain.

"By the way, how's your Patronus Charm going?" Dumbledore suddenly asked again.

“My Patronus is the Phoenix, Nietzsche’s… He’s still practicing.” Hermione would unconsciously tilt her head up whenever she mentioned this.

"You called them here just to ask about their studies?" Riddle showed him no respect whatsoever.

“I’ve told you so many times, this isn’t just about studying, it’s about how to fight Voldemort.” Dumbledore remained calm in the face of his rudeness. “Love…it’s not just about them needing to understand, you need to too…”

Riddle rolled his eyes, then familiarly moved to Nietzsche's side, leaving Hermione in a corner.

"It's not a big deal, really. It's just that besides me, there's another soul of Voldemort that Dumbledore was able to find."

"where?"

"It's not about where, but 'who'."

But neither Hermione nor Nietzsche immediately grasped the difference.

Headmaster Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out several sheets of paper and a chocolate bar. The sender of the letter was Sirius Black.

He said slowly, "During the summer holidays, Sirius told me—Harry said he started having headaches and dreaming about Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew... He said he saw it kill a Muggle."

"A prophecy?" Hermione guessed.

Peter Pettigrew was handed over to Fudge by them, and was subsequently taken away by the Aurors and Dementors.

However, Dumbledore shook his head, which immediately plunged the two into despair. Clearly, Peter Pettigrew had either been rescued by Voldemort or escaped on his own.

"When the Death Eaters attacked the stadium, the Ministry of Magic mobilized a large number of Aurors for support. When they returned, they discovered that Pettigrew had disappeared," the headmaster explained.

The Death Eaters firing Dark Marks in the areas where wizards were most concentrated to attract the Ministry of Magic's attention was not a prank.

“But isn’t Azkaban guarded by Dementors?” Hermione asked, puzzled.