Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

"Hermione Granger!"

A long silence followed, even Nietzsche was stunned; it was all too sudden.

"What?!" Only Hermione stood up and screamed in disbelief.

On the bright side, at least Hermione was able to save face for Beauxbatons.

Chapter 234 A Duel Between the Fire Dragon and the Swan

Hermione's mind went blank; she must have misheard, but everyone's eyes were on her and Harry.

"I didn't submit my name..."

“Of course you couldn’t possibly cross that age threshold, but it’s obvious someone did.” Nietzsche glanced at the head table, observing the changes in everyone’s expressions. “Your name was entered by someone else.”

But if that's the case, then the scope is even wider; any wizard over seventeen years old could bypass Dumbledore's magic.

“Come here, you two,” Professor McGonagall called out. “Go to that room first.”

Hermione and Harry, with stiff steps, left the Slytherin table, crossed the Great Hall, and followed Ludo Bagman into the small room where they had gathered before the Sorting Ceremony.

Nietzsche's mind raced—perhaps some senior witch, dissatisfied with Beauxbatons' Veela, had thrown Hermione's name into the Goblet of Fire? And what about Harry Potter? What was he planning to do with this opportunity?

If Harry Potter possesses the spirit of Voldemort or the consciousness of Tom Riddle, could this possibly affect age-detection magic...?

“This is against the rules.” Snape said with a grim face, clearly displeased with the other two champions of Hogwarts. Of course, it was more likely because none of the three champions were from Slytherin.

Because as he spoke, he glared at Nietzsche with lightning speed.

Whispers began to circulate both on and off stage: Beauxbatons and the headmaster of Durmstrang were furious, believing that Dumbledore had deceived them, and were lashing out at him, while Professor McGonagall was trying to explain.

After a while, Dumbledore led everyone to get up, and Nietzsche followed the Dean into the small room.

He saw Cedric, Krum, and Fleur standing around the fireplace, while across from them, Hermione stood with her hands in her pockets, being scrutinized by the three men with different looks:

Cedric seemed somewhat bewildered; Krum frowned, then moved away from Cedric, his face grim; Fleur held her head high like a swan.

"Mrs. Maxim!" Fleur strode forward as she saw her headmaster enter. "What's going on? Mr. Bagman said these two children are also going to participate in the competition?"

Two children?

This wasn't just a simple description of Hermione and Harry's ages; coupled with her arrogant demeanor, it was clearly sarcastic.

Hermione was so angry that she stomped her heels on the ground. She was furious at being looked down upon. At the same time, when she noticed Nietzsche coming in, she and Harry moved closer together and hid behind Snape.

In this room, only those around him were free from much hostility.

"I didn't really want to participate in the first place," Hermione said softly, looking at Fleur. "Judging from her expression, I wonder if this swan would be so scared of the Obscurus she'd roll around in the water..."

She rarely boasts about her experiences, but now she really wants to say to Furong: What did you do at my age?

Nietzsche did not refute, but at the same time let out a few cold laughs at Furong's words.

"What on earth is going on?" Karkaroff's eyes revealed a chill. "Why does Hogwarts have three champions... If that's the case, I'll have the students vote again until we also have three champions."

Mrs. Maxim agreed, and she and Karkaroff turned their gaze to Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch, who were standing against the wall.

Mr. Crouch stood expressionless at the boundary between shadow and firelight, his face as if roughly carved from a piece of wood, his stiffness unlike that of a normal human being.

“We must abide by the rules of the Triwizard Tournament—whoever is chosen by the Goblet of Fire must participate in the competition,” he said mechanically.

“But these two people are clearly not qualified to participate.” Furong tossed her hair and smiled sweetly.

"Not qualified? What do you mean by qualified?" Hermione said coldly. "Is Merlin's Order of the Second Class qualified? If even I am not qualified, then the Goblet of Fire chose you simply because there was no one else to choose."

Mrs. Maxim, the headmistress of Beauxbatons, was startled by the words. She glared angrily, her right hand clutching her heaving chest.

“Granger!” McGonagall warned.

But it was all useless; when Hermione got serious, she was like a cactus covered in thorns.

“I just hope that when some people visit, they’d better show some respect to the host.” Hermione ignored her own yard and Mrs. Maxime’s angry expression. “You may be the most talented in Beauxbatons, but not here.”

"Really?" Hibiscus said slowly, her eyelids drooping. "I'd like to see..."

“The Veela’s tricks won’t work on me, and besides… I know what Nietzsche knows too.” Hermione reached out and grabbed at the air.

Perhaps it was the mention of her lineage that made Furong look insulted, and her face turned very pale.

Something unexpected happened to Nietzsche—he hadn't anticipated that Hermione and Fleur would be so at odds, as if they were natural enemies; she hadn't even been this irritable towards Daphne Greengrass.

Karkaroff chuckled briefly, turning his head to get a clear look at the wizard who dared to argue with a legitimate warrior in front of several headmasters.

But when his gaze swept behind Nietzsche, he was struck dumb, pointing at Harry and unable to utter a single word.

"I don't know what you have to complain about!" Moody suddenly pushed open the door, rudely shoving Snape aside as he stood in the middle of the way, and roared at them, "Neither Potter nor Granger complained about this!"

"Complain? Everyone wants to be a warrior, a champion, and get a thousand Galleons!" Fleur stomped her foot in exasperation.

“We don’t want to… because I’ve already achieved fame and fortune, and because Harry hates being famous.” Hermione grabbed Nietzsche’s arm and shoved him behind her. “Don’t think of us as you.”

Harry gave Hermione a grateful look.

That's true, after all, Harry really hates the title of 'savior'.

“Who would allow two underage students to break the rules and participate in a competition where they could die at any moment?” Moody approached Karkaroff. “Hmm? That’s right, Porter… he’s the kid who survived back then.”

His magical eye swept over Hermione a few times before fixing on Karkaroff.

That unusual hatred and anger... Nietzsche felt that Professor Moody might take action at any moment, as if he had never believed that Karkaroff had been exonerated and remained skeptical of everyone and everything.

"This...don't joke around." Bagman took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "How could this have anything to do with that person..."

The scene fell silent for a moment, and Nietzsche noticed that when the two headmasters talked about Voldemort, they both looked at Headmaster Dumbledore at the same time.

“In short, Cedric, Harry, and Hermione have all been chosen, so they must participate in the competition.” Dumbledore stopped Mrs. Maxime, who was about to speak, with an apologetic look. “We have no other choice.”

Snape let out a sharp, unpleasant laugh.

Now that things have come to this, regardless of whether there is a conspiracy or not, the competition will continue.

Mr. Crouch stepped forward to the front of the warriors. He looked haggard, with deep shadows under his eyes, and his eyes were filled with exhaustion and numbness.

"Why don't you stay here and rest for a while?" Dumbledore said with concern.

“No…no, there are still many things to deal with in the department. You know, ever since the day of the Quidditch World Cup, I have to…” Mr. Crouch said, “Albus, I’m very busy, and this is a very difficult time.”

He was still holding back, not saying everything.

But Nietzsche knew what he meant: the Quidditch World Cup was just a smokescreen, because Peter Pettigrew's prison break happened on the same day, only the Ministry of Magic hadn't made it public.

"The first project tests courage. Each participant asks for or accepts help from anyone, and their only weapon is a magic wand. Only by completing the first project can they obtain information about the second project."

And then... and that was it. It wasn't even a riddle.

"That's the content and rules of the first project," Mrs. Maxim said, then took Fleur's arm and left.

Krum remained silent until he passed Nietzsche, at which point he glanced at him sideways and said unhappily, "I thought Hogwarts was a good school, but I didn't expect you to be associated with the Burmese."

“Yes, yes, we should have thought of that…” Karkaroff chimed in.

UMNO?

But it was as if Nietzsche's mind was cursed, subconsciously mixing all the sounds and clues together:

Does Krum know the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?

If Harry's participation in the Triwizard Tournament was part of Voldemort's conspiracy, then what about Hermione's?

While Voldemort might be a bit stubborn, he wouldn't think a Triwizard Tournament could kill her...

Chapter 235 Hermione Achieves Success - Becoming Somewhat Famous

When Hermione left the 'Warriors' training room, she looked just like Crooks, who had eaten too much. She walked with her arms hanging down, looking listless, and her mind was filled with all sorts of doubts.

She even cast a suspicious glance at Nietzsche's head.

“I originally thought Hermione needed to step up her game, but it seems… well, not bad either.” Lavender walked over and greeted her, then patted Nietzsche on the shoulder.

"If the warrior is Hermione, then it wouldn't be surprising," George and Fred chimed in.

Ever since Mr. Weasley became the chief engineer, the two of them have practically been Hermione's number one lackeys... if Hermione really needs lackeys.

After all, who would want to mess with Galleons?

Hannah, Weasley, and the others all knew very well that the most powerful person in Gryffindor was 'Little McGonagall'.

Hermione was completely unable to bask in their praise. She gripped Nietzsche's arm nervously, like a sloth clinging to a branch. Nietzsche could even feel the warmth and softness beneath her clothes.

“You have to find that person,” she said in a low voice.

But the next second, the lions pulled her away from Nietzsche and lifted her above their heads.

Nietzsche watched as Hermione was tossed high into the air by the crowd, eliciting gasps of surprise. Suddenly, he realized that Hermione's participation in the Triwizard Tournament wasn't all bad... at least it made her more prestigious in Gryffindor than Harry.

No one doubted the Goblet of Fire.

These simple-minded lions were only curious about how Hermione had put her name in the ballot, but they didn't doubt her ability to be chosen.

The Slytherins lay sprawled on the table, watching with envy as the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors celebrated wildly.

"Damn it... Cedric, that pretty boy, got chosen, so why can't I?" Warrington said through gritted teeth. "In terms of ability, I'm no worse than him in Quidditch!"

Nietzsche looked at Hufflepuff and saw Cedric blushing shyly because he was being hugged by his Ravenclaw senior.

"Because you're single?" he guessed.

"What kind of reason is that?!" Warrington seemed even more distraught.

“You can’t say that. Loving someone takes a lot of courage.” Nietzsche patted him on the back reassuringly and pulled them toward the basement, leaving behind only a few little snakes who were still hoping that the Goblet of Fire would once again work its magic.

Several Slytherins, who had just turned seventeen, walked in dejectedly.

Although Nietzsche's words made a lot of sense, upon closer reflection, they were even more unconvinced.

Is it wrong for nobody to like someone?

Is it wrong to love Quidditch?

"Aren't you even a little bit envious? I don't believe it!" Theodore said angrily.

"Hmph... What's so enviable about Sherlock Holmes? Didn't you hear what he just said?" Daphne, arm in arm with her sister, swaggered past the group and said disdainfully, "He's probably overjoyed!"