Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

The others were stunned for a moment before they understood Daphne's strange tone.

"Oh~~" they exclaimed in sudden realization.

Warriors need immense courage, and Hermione certainly has plenty of it... Nietzsche felt a chill run down his spine from their gazes.

The commotion didn't subside until Sunday, but it was fortunate for Harry. He had thought the Slytherins would take this opportunity to attack him, but Hermione stopped them.

The Gryffindors were overjoyed; they had two champions!

But the other two schools weren't so happy. They even thought Hogwarts was cheating: even if they could understand that Harry's participation was a conspiracy, how could Hermione's participation be justified?

Therefore, both Mrs. Maxim and Karkaroff felt that Hermione was the best candidate to fall back on.

Therefore, the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang received no friendly treatment from the Hogwarts students, and were practically cursing them. They almost always avoided the Hogwarts students.

Nietzsche suddenly remembered Krum's gloomy face. The other party actually had a good impression of Hogwarts, but... the Sorcerers... Professor Binns had mentioned the history of the First World Magical War.

This organization is aligned with 'wizard supremacy'; they are not Death Eaters, therefore they do not care about bloodlines, only about identity.

Karkaroff... The fact that he could frighten a Death Eater like Karkaroff and remain so memorable to Durmstrang's students is most likely due to Professor Glendale's former identity—a member of the Masonic Party.

Alright, so this is the friend Dumbledore claims to be.

At noon, Nietzsche knocked on the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

"Please come in," the old professor called out hoarsely.

The office, which changes every year, is filled with all sorts of strange and wonderful magical devices, and an antique bronze mirror hangs at the entrance.

“It’s you?” Grindelwald blinked, puzzled. “I thought Hermione would have arrived sooner.”

"Professor, are you familiar with the UMNO party?"

Grindelwald was stunned, then pretended to be bewildered.

"If you want to ask about history, you should go downstairs... Professor Binns's history of magic teacher is on the second floor..."

“Krum reacted strongly to the Burmese, and he only became hostile to Hogwarts after seeing you,” Nietzsche said. “But how would a student know your identity... Even if he doesn’t know you, he must recognize the symbol on you.”

He had seen the symbol on the other person before—a triangle with a vertical line in the middle.

Nietzsche didn't recognize it; after all, it was common for wizards to carry a few strange things, and the influence of the Marxist party hadn't spread to Britain.

Grindelwald closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He hadn't expected his hidden strength to be revealed during the Triwizard Tournament. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze was full of regret.

"Who did you talk to?" he asked slowly.

“Dumbledore knows about this, doesn’t he?” Nicholas answered his question with a question.

“That’s right, he’s known me for a long time.” Grindelwald hesitated for a moment, then added, “Let’s make this clear, Hermione’s participation has nothing to do with me.”

That's not surprising at all; no wonder the UMNO party had very little influence in Britain back then.

As the headmaster of Durmstrang, Karkaroff was naturally aware of the Burma Party and was understandably afraid. Moreover, Nietzsche wouldn't believe this was Dumbledore's plan to prevent the Death Eaters from entering.

Let a member of the Mughal Party be in charge of Hogwarts.

All thoughts pointed to one possibility—Dumbledore was once a member of the UMNO party, or at least had a good relationship with it.

Just as Nietzsche and Grindelwald were locked in an awkward silence, a knock on the door startled them awake.

"Professor?" It was Hermione, she called out nervously.

Grindelwald placed a finger on his parched lips, gesturing not to tell her, and whispered, "Forgive me, a man about to be buried, the future no longer belongs to us... Please come in!"

“Professor, about war magic... Nietzsche? What are you doing here?” Hermione spotted him in a panic among a pile of parchment.

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?" He pursed his lips, ultimately swallowing back the matter of the UMNO. "You're a warrior now, aren't you going to prepare for the first project?"

The professor wouldn't let him tell Hermione about this in person; it wouldn't lead to a complete falling out.

“But I came here for the first project… I’ve thought about it a lot, and Mr. Crouch only said it was about courage and wands, so it would be better to have some war magic.” She looked at the two of them with suspicion.

"You two have such a good relationship?" Nietzsche scratched his head.

"Of course, don't think that just because Headmaster Dumbledore is here, I can't surpass you."

Grindelwald rubbed his face, forced a smile, and opened his arms as if to hug him.

Nietzsche shook his head, harboring doubts about Grindelwald's identity. He always felt there was something else mixed up between Dumbledore and the Slavs...

As for Grindelwald, he was no different from an old man showing off to his children.

“A wise choice. I’m no worse than Maxim and Karkaroff,” he said. “Don’t let Hogwarts fall behind Beauxbatons. Those arrogant Frenchmen… hmph… teach them a lesson!”

Hermione was pleased with these words, and she suddenly felt that Grindelwald was more approachable.

Fleur, who was training in a carriage in Beauxbatons, sneezed. Despite being by a warm fireplace, she couldn't help but shiver.

"Did you catch a cold?" Mrs. Maxim asked worriedly.

"It's probably just the change in environment..." Furong shook her head and continued training.

Chapter 236 The Anglo-French War (Mistake)

Hermione disliked Beauxbatons because of Fleur's dazzling brilliance and arrogance, something Nietzsche could understand.

But what is the reason why Grindelwald dislikes Beauxbatons?

Nietzsche's actions can only be categorized as resentment stemming from the gradual defeats of the Burmese party in France... But surprisingly, he and Hermione got along remarkably well, and he even gradually sidelined her.

Nietzsche sighed as he watched the two engrossed in their magical research.

“All cleaned up.” He placed Crookshanks on Hermione’s pile of books and, in front of her, cleaned the cat hair off himself.

This action caused Crookshank's whimper to run straight into Hermione's arms without looking back.

'Never mind, at least we need to find a way to ensure her safety first.' He thought to himself as he walked from the sundial garden north of the castle to Hagrid's cottage.

The wooden boat carrying Durmstrang floated under the sun, with flying brooms shuttling back and forth between the boat and the Quidditch pitch. Nietzsche could see several tall men guarding the entrance from a distance, indicating that the pitch had become their training ground.

Those tall Durmstrang students stared at everyone who passed by, and even the owls that passed by got hit by the swimming ball.

"Stop eating! I went through so much trouble to get these fried snails!" Nietzsche heard Hagrid's rough voice from afar.

Along with this, some students burst into laughter and exclamations.

They were students of Beauxbatons, and because the rune horses that pulled the wagons were entrusted to Hagrid, their activity points were almost entirely in the Forbidden Forest.

Nietzsche saw Madame Maxime's enormous figure sitting on the golden steps of the carriage, which remained perfectly straight, dressed in a purple silk gown, laughing along with the students.

He took out his wand, pointed it to both sides, and easily parted the crowd.

“Hagrid?” Nietzsche strode forward and tugged at the half-giant kneeling on the ground, groaning.

"Quick! Take her away... I don't have many of my frizzy-tailed snails left."

No wonder Nietzsche didn't see Smaug; she was lying on her side in the grass, gazing at the extremely ugly shelled creatures beside Hagrid.

Each one is six inches long, with many legs sticking out haphazardly from its grayish-white shell, and the arched part on its back is covered with several sharp spines, like a giant venomous scorpion that has been hiding in a conch shell.

Honestly, my first impression was just disgust.

Upon seeing Nietzsche arrive, Smaug was about to open his mouth and shout when several shells and fragments of limbs flew out mixed with saliva.

Several Beauxbatons stared wide-eyed, eager to see what would happen to the Hogwarts students.

"When did you start eating these bizarre things?" He raised his wand, and the slightly burnt limbs were flicked onto the faces of several Beauxbatons around him, who immediately clutched their stomachs and gagged.

What a sudden disaster...

"Roar~~" Smaug innocently pawed at the ground a few times.

“Come with me, and listen to me.” Nietzsche held his breath and rubbed her nose a few times.

The dragon's eyes narrowed slightly, as if she was still a little unsatisfied... Very well, it seems she didn't smell the scent of Crook Mountain.

"Wait! You just took it like that?" Fleur suddenly called out to him. "Is this how Hogwarts does things? You don't even ask a question before taking things from the professor. We borrowed it first."

Fleur Delacour had her hair tied up in a bun at the back of her head, and wore a light blue lace hat with a veil on her head. Her form-fitting clothes accentuated her figure, which was different from most Hogwarts girls...

Of course, that may not be the majority.

“Borrow? What is Smaug? She is a free life.” Nietzsche turned his head, but his eyes went over Fleur’s shoulder and stared at the leaves behind her.

To avoid falling into the Veela's spell again, he should be cautious.

Smaug, meanwhile, snorted dismissively and flicked his tail, shooing away Beauxbatons who had just gathered around him.

Her idea was simple: she had finished eating, and it was time to go have some fun.

“See? She chose me, not you…” Ni said in a very smug tone. “Oh, sorry, it seems Veela doesn’t work on all creatures. By the way, Smaug is a girl.”

He's completely lost all his gentlemanly manners; well, Sherlock's teachings have paid off.

When it comes to sarcasm, Sherlock Holmes is famous.

Fleur and Madam Maxim must have a good relationship. Fleur was among the top students in Beauxbatons, and with the Veela's magical effects, she was unlikely to be mocked so closely by a wizard so often.

Not to mention, this person is a boy...

Unable to bear this insult, Furong gracefully walked up to Nietzsche, with only half an arm's length between them.

She let out a long sigh and said softly, "If I remember correctly, the girl you're on good terms with is also a warrior, but you aren't... The Triwizard Tournament isn't like the usual bumps and bruises."

Those Beauxbatons students who were eliminated by the Goblet of Fire and were close to the two of them took a deep breath, their eyes filled with excitement.

This is the smoke of battle before it begins!

Nietzsche was stumped. He scratched his head in confusion... How could this be explained?

Actually, Hermione wasn't that strong. She just almost blew up an entire armory during the summer holidays and used the Patronus Charm to defend against an Obscurus... Oh, right, she also saved Moriarty from him.

She only recently gained a slight understanding of war magic, and her teacher used to be a member of the Wushi Party.

Bumps and knocks?

Let's just say it counts, since bumps and knocks are inevitable.

“But…Professor Hagrid!” Fleur suddenly turned around again, seemingly casually, and said respectfully, “I would like to hear more about dragons. When we return to Beauxbatons, we will repay you with a divine steed as a gift.”

She was so shrewd; seeing that Nietzsche wasn't buying it, she quickly shifted the focus of the argument.

Hagrid was immediately perplexed when he heard himself being addressed as 'Professor' and given magical creatures as gifts.