Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

"Haha, Nietzsche likes Gryffindor's mud-blooded kind~" Malfoy whistled dismissively.

Hermione, however, was getting increasingly embarrassed by the jeers from some people, and finally, unable to bear it any longer, she drew her wand and pointed it at the instigator—Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy stiffened and began to move closer to the people behind him.

"How long are you going to hide behind a woman?" Pansy stepped in front of Malfoy, turning her attention to Nietzsche. "You're a disgrace to Slytherin. You should go back to Gryffindor with this little mudblood!"

Nietzsche slowly swallowed his bread and said, "Do you know what's going on with Goethe and Crabbe now?"

"how?"

"I advocate for gender equality, as championed by British gentlemen, so if the university hospital has any spare beds, you can reserve them in advance..."

“If you’ve got the guts, duel like a wizard!” Pansy threatened, trembling. “Hmph, if you fight like a Muggle, you’re just like those stupid lions from Gryffindor… Aaaaah!!”

A dark shadow streaked across the sky above the college dining table and landed precisely on Pansy's head.

Judging from the pervasive stench, it was clearly a rotten egg made by George and Fred. Nietzsche silently put his nose plugs back on.

"Who? Who is it?!"

Pansy angrily turned to look, but unfortunately, the Gryffindors seemed completely unaware, each one lowering their heads and suppressing a laugh.

Hermione and Nietzsche had no interest in getting involved in the ensuing farce. Before leaving, they even made a special trip back to Gryffindor to stuff a few chicken sandwiches into their pockets.

"I forgot to tell you, I'm currently far ahead in yesterday's Transfiguration class!" Hermione recalled the changes she had made with the matchsticks and her smug smile returned.

"I know you're in a hurry, but don't rush. You might not get my White Dried Fruit Essence."

The afternoon class was History of Magic, and the classroom was on the second floor of the castle.

When class started, Nietzsche and Hermione realized that the professor of the history of magic was not a person at all, or even a living being—a gray, semi-transparent ghost floated straight down from behind the blackboard.

Professor Binns also impressed the students during their first meeting...

Because the entire History of Magic class was extremely boring, he would simply read from the book, his voice drawn out and monotonous. Before half an hour had passed, half of the students from both schools had fallen asleep.

Only a handful of people were sitting in the front row of the classroom.

“Look at Malfoy’s behavior. Harry... tell Hermione to be careful and not get too close to the Slytherins. They’ll definitely make fun of this.”

Harry rolled his eyes; he couldn't understand Ron's thought process.

So he could only lie on the table, holding up "The History of Magic" in front of him, and whisper, "Hermione and Nietzsche knew each other before they came to Hogwarts, they were friends...what does that have to do with us?"

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just that, didn’t you hear Malfoy making fun of Gryffindor with those two?”

That's it?

Harry ignored Ron's pleas, sorry, he'd been beaten much more in Muggle schools.

“Let them laugh all they want, but I advise you not to say these things to Hermione,” Harry added. “Unless you can beat her and don’t need those notes she takes in class.”

Ron only calmed down a bit after hearing those words, but he still tore a piece of paper from his notebook, crumpled it up, and threw it at Malfoy's head, who was snickering.

The catalyst for the first paper ball war was Ron's assassination attempt on Malfoy.

"Poor Weasley, perhaps you could find a rich young lady in Slytherin! If they're willing."

Clearly, Malfoy knew what kind of sarcasm was most effective and most effective at striking at someone's dignity.

He showered Harry and Ron with all the trash talk and sarcasm that had no effect on Nietzsche.

Malfoy then retaliated, and the back half of the classroom was filled with paper airplanes and crumpled paper, flying back and forth between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"Professor, aren't you going to do anything about this?" Hermione couldn't stand the noise anymore.

She looked at Binns Cuthbert on the lectern, who still looked half-asleep, wearing small round glasses and swaying in the air, which was quite different from the description in "Hogwarts: A History of the School".

It's hard to imagine that such a lifeless professor, before becoming a ghost, would always make students who had taken the History of Magic course reluctant to leave the classroom.

"Ah... Miss Greenland, it would be great if you could stop them."

Even Hermione, who always respected teachers, couldn't stand Binns's dejected appearance and just listened silently as he continued to tell the story of the goblin uprising a thousand years ago.

“My last name is Granger, Professor!”

Seeing Hermione gradually breaking down, Nietzsche couldn't help but laugh.

“Miss Greenland, your ancestors must have been explorers who explored the European Plate.”

“Well… yes, Miss Grant, as you both can see, ghosts, apart from Peeves, have no magical abilities, so I can’t soothe the students’… hmph… restless hearts right now.”

But everything comes at a price, so Hermione kicked him under the table and then moved their wooden table to the side of the podium.

Nietzsche asked curiously, "Do they all lose their emotions after becoming ghosts?"

“No, of course not.” Bins stroked his beard and said calmly, “But I just feel... a little tired. You wouldn’t like the feeling of not being able to sleep, not being able to die, and having to endure for nearly a thousand years.”

Professor Binns was invited by the founder of Slytherin from the very beginning because of his erudition and quick wit.

Every day, every month, every year remained unchanged. In this extremely boring wizarding society, where there were no updated history textbooks, Binns quickly lost his way in the river of time.

Giving lectures seems to have become a habit, an instinct, for him.

"Later, the students gradually lost interest in history, and I was repeating the same things every year..."

Hermione listened with a sense of melancholy, but the repetitive lectures had caused Binns to become rigid, resulting in a closed loop in his logic:

If he changes himself, his thinking becomes rigid; if he doesn't change, lecturing will be torture for both parties.

“Perhaps it’s just that wizards and humans have been isolated for too long.” Nietzsche interlaced his fingers and rested them on the tip of his pen. “Professor, you can’t use the mindset you had when you were dealing with humans to face students hundreds of years from now.”

Perhaps the goblin uprisings and international wizarding conferences he mentioned, in that era of witch hunts, the huge information gap would naturally allow wizards to feel the grandeur of another world.

But how could this idea work on wizards a hundred years from now?

Before coming to the school, those Muggle wizards could simply press a button to access every corner of the news from every country; they could even hear about the scandalous affairs of any celebrity.

"So you're saying I'm too rigid?" Binns was a little annoyed, but he suppressed his emotions after glancing at the notebook on the other person's desk, which was filled with writing. "This is how I taught the first time I came to Hogwarts."

"No, I'm just curious... is it really just because of short-term witch hunts that wizards don't interact with Muggles?"

Professor Binns stopped his tedious speech, first glancing at the two people sitting next to him. After confirming their serious attitude, he forced what he thought was a very amiable smile.

Although, in Hermione's eyes, this laughter was the same as crying.

"This isn't something that can be explained in a short time..."

"Is it because of laziness and inaction at the higher-ups?" Ni pressed on, adopting the most relaxed tone. "But as far as I know, the British government is aware of the existence of wizards, so why is the Ministry of Magic maintaining the status quo?"

Bins looked shocked, his translucent fingers repeatedly stroking the edge of the pages as he quietly fell into thought.

He seemed to have little understanding of the Muggles of today. This shipwright who forged wooden boats no longer had a place on the ship. The anguish and restlessness caused by parallax filled his soul, which had been calm for hundreds of years.

After a long time, get out of class finally ended amidst everyone's snoring.

Nietzsche wanted to stop the professor to ask him something, but Hermione immediately grabbed the hem of his robe and dragged him back to the wooden chair.

"Why do you insist on having a ghost professor, someone who can swallow his pride and go out into Muggle society to see for himself?"

“The incompetent British government and the Ministry of Magic have wasted precious time!” Nietzsche said, watching the professor walk away through the wall without looking back. “We can’t let our minds be closed off in our final education.”

In Slytherin, Nietzsche saw little of a future for wizards...

At least regarding the future, it's not filled with pure-blooded talk and the idea that Muggles are inferior.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She instinctively sensed a danger emanating from Nietzsche, like a poppy—beautiful, intoxicating, and capable of acting as an anesthetic, yet fraught with unknown risks.

At the same time, as Mrs. Hudson on Baker Street was about to close the window, a grey and white owl squeezed in.

It's like a postman, carrying a miniature shoulder bag.

“Watson and Holmes, whom I despise the most... The wizarding world is not dangerous at all... I am living a very peaceful life here, so peaceful that I never want to go home again..." Watson eagerly tore open the envelope.

His face was filled with disbelief.

"That doesn't make sense."

"Happy to oblige."

Mycroft snatched the letter and quickly scanned it, focusing on the key points.

“Don’t worry, Watson, this is a double code. Shelley and I started using it when we were kids. If the first letter of the message is a consonant, then the true meaning is the opposite of what is stated.”

"I will contact a small group of people to investigate the Malfoy family. Nietzsche's investigation has exceeded my expectations."

Watson was still completely bewildered; he was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information.

"The Malfoy family?"

“Nietzsche put it very clearly: all the murders revolve around these families who are hostile to ordinary people,” Mary said casually, sitting on the sofa. “They don’t want wizards and Muggles to get along too peacefully.”

Watson was stunned by his fiancée's words, and even Mycroft cast an approving glance his way.

"You know what? Now I finally understand why some men with special personalities would, under certain circumstances, wish to have... a woman like you by their side."

"Ahem... You flatter me, I'm just an ordinary female teacher."

Watson replied, puzzled, "But even if they start a war between two worlds, what good will it do them?"

Shylock frowned; he had realized just how important Nietzsche was in this.

"Who knows? World War I was a world war launched by capitalism at its final stage of development, evolving into imperialism. How could the nearly ten million people who died know that it was just the powerful and wealthy fighting for a piece of the pie?"

wizard...

They are a truly amazing yet tragic group of people.

Chapter Nineteen: May Magic Be With You

On the morning of the second day after Mercury's return, Nietzsche finally stepped into the Spells class.

However, there is some good news recently: Draco has moved to another dormitory with his luggage, leaving Nietzsche alone.

The bad news is that this seems to be a plan by Draco Malfoy to start a Cold War, completely isolate Nietzsche from Slytherin, and drive him insane.

Even Snape could see this, so during his nighttime confinement, he warned:

"The four academies will not change because of the will of an arrogant fool."

But Nietzsche ignored it.

The Cold War was an ideological struggle, but sometimes, many miracles were born from it.

In fact, Nietzsche had too many things to think about, and the questions he had posed to Professor Bins yesterday also filled his mind.