Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

"this..."

He first glanced at the dignified Mrs. Maxim, who was about the same size as him, and his cheeks gradually flushed.

"Could you lend it to me again?" he said in a muffled voice as he moved closer to Nietzsche.

It was obvious that Hagrid was interested in the headmaster of Beauxbatons; after all, it was the first time Hagrid had met a woman of similar age and build.

"Ha! You're siding with outsiders." Nietzsche saw right through him, but didn't back down an inch. "Be careful, or I'll tell Bane and Ronan, and see if those centaurs will like someone who has no principles!"

"No, please! I'll offer up my... my Blast-tailed Shell..."

“We’ll talk about it later. They’re not in a rush. They’ll be staying at Hogwarts for the entire school year.” Nietzsche snapped his fingers and led Smaug out of the camp.

Mrs. Maxim frowned slightly, but wasn't angry. She simply said, "Never mind, it's just a fire dragon. I was just curious about how you tamed it."

But Hagrid didn't want to lose face in front of Mrs. Maxim, so he scratched his head and thought for a moment, then clapped his hands loudly.

"Let's talk about that Norwegian Ridgeback later. I can introduce you to a few other fire-breathing dragons..."

At Hagrid's cabin campsite, Beauxbatons' students surrounded Hagrid again, while Mrs. Maxim smiled and exchanged a glance with Fleur.

other?

Where did the 'other' come from?

"Have you encountered other fire dragons in the Forbidden Forest before?" Nietzsche lightly leaped onto the black jade back of the fire dragon.

"Roar~" Smaug shook his head and let out a low growl.

“Interesting… Let’s go to the Forbidden Forest and find Ronan. Let them give you some special training.” He stroked the smooth, hard scales, feeling a little reluctant. “Or, I could carve a few more layers of protective magic on you later?”

The thought of his daughter being ordered to fight still made him feel a little sorry for her.

But on the bright side—at least dear Smaug will become a legendary dragon, instead of aging or dying in a fight like all the other ordinary dragons in the nature reserve.

This is the loophole that Nietzsche found.

The rules of the Triwizard Tournament only state that "wizards cannot accept or ask for help from other people," but they don't say that they can't summon magical creatures.

Pshaw, who doesn't have a fire dragon?

Nietzsche was carried along, swaying and staggering as he squeezed into the Forbidden Forest, and he could even hear Hermione's nagging in his ears.

If she were here, she would definitely say, "Ah, Nietzsche, you've broken the rules again... You always have an excuse... You always like to play these little tricks..."

But now he can say with righteous indignation: I'm doing this all for your own good.

Chapter 237 Secret Weapon: Dragon Knight

(Merry Christmas, fellow book lovers!)

"Even a wizard wouldn't be confident in subduing a creature at the top of the food chain like a dragon. What else do you expect it to fight?"

Baine, a top hunter in the centaur tribe, is rough and belligerent, making him highly skilled in combat and hunting. Even this top hunter in the Forbidden Forest is starting to have trouble understanding Nietzsche's ideas.

Still want to train?

What other training methods would you like?

Does this mean that the Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon has to carry a magic wand in its mouth to cast a spell for it to be considered a success?

“Of course, it’s a fire dragon of the same level as it.” Nietzsche saw its narrowed eyes and immediately waved his hand, explaining, “I’m not sending her to hunt, it’s a competition… I need her to defeat at least one adult fire dragon.”

Bain silently watched the fish lying on the edge of the pond, wolfing down one plump fish after another, and fell into deep thought.

It thought for a long time without making a sound, so much so that Nietzsche thought it had fallen asleep.

“Do you know… the strength of an adult fire dragon that grows up in a protected area…” Bain began with difficulty, “In a group of fire dragons, none of them that can survive and grow up are pushovers.”

It suddenly covered its face, not wanting to look at Smaug, who had eaten his fill and was now frolicking in the lake.

Nietzsche didn't care about any of that. He ran up to the dragon's head and said, "How about Hermione rides on your back?"

Smaug didn't even turn his head, not even his orange-red vertical pupils twitched for a second, and he made a gurgling sound in his throat, whether it was because of eating or because of disgust, it was hard to tell.

For her, having Nietzsche sit on her was already a great privilege, and then he wanted another woman to ride on top of her...

This is simply pushing their luck!

“I know, I know, Hermione’s temperament does clash with yours, and you two don’t get along very well,” Nietzsche said passionately. “But sometimes, you can gain more advantage from her by lending a helping hand.”

As he spoke, he stroked the bump on her head, leaving Smaug completely bewildered.

"Think about it...you helped her, right? Now she won't be able to hold her head up in front of you anymore."

After careful consideration, Smaug realized that Nietzsche made a lot of sense. He thought about how 'that woman' forbade her to go home with Nietzsche and also forbade her to leave the Forbidden Forest.

It's done!

Amid Nietzsche's nagging, the fire dragon let out an impatient roar.

Now that the most complex part is done, all he needs to do is strengthen the protection of Smaug... In close combat, his fire dragon might not have the upper hand, but what if there's magic?

"Bane, are there any simple materials suitable for engraving magical runes?"

“If you want to protect them, the guardian tree is the most suitable material…” The centaur was also an expert in botany, and he frowned as he said, “But in that case, you must first find new homes for those guardian hunchbacks.”

The Guardian Tree is also a kind of magical mountain pear tree, so it was not difficult for Nietzsche to find it in the Forbidden Forest.

Unlike herbs, which possess magic, herbs, when made into potions, mostly have magical effects imparted by the wand stirring the cauldron. Harvesting them is troublesome unless they are specifically cultivated.

After wandering around the Forbidden Forest for quite some time, he and Bain finally found a few Guardian Trees with few Protector Bowers.

The humped trees were small, almost the size of a leaf, and looked like tree roots. At first, they angrily rolled leaves or branches into spikes and threw them at them.

"Don't attack. They are gentle by nature and will only attack others when the guardian tree or they themselves are threatened." Bain raised his thick left arm, the splinters not even piercing its downy hair.

Nietzsche first witnessed its patience with weak life.

Bain took a handful of flat, pebbly insects from his waist pouch with his other hand, gently placed them on a palm-sized leaf, and respectfully handed them over, his arm as steady as an elevator.

They only breathed a sigh of relief when the Bowtruckle finished its food and carefully curled its root-like fingers toward Bain's rough fingers.

"It's done." The centaur happily put the little guys on his shoulders.

Immediately after receiving permission, Smaug eagerly slapped its tail hard, cutting the entire pear tree in half.

What followed was meticulous work. For the next few days, whenever Nietzsche had free time, he took the basilisk scales and some magical equipment from the Room of Requirement to the Forbidden Forest and used pearwood to forge a simple wooden armor for Smaug.

He needed to find a way to measure the dragon's size and constantly use the Transformation Charm to adjust its size.

The real difficulty was that Smaug always felt she was playing with Nietzsche, and whenever he was measuring her body, she would run around, which caused a lot of trouble for Nietzsche's work.

Before the first event of the Triwizard Tournament began, she would spend the time with Nietzsche deep in the Forbidden Forest.

Thus, Smaug, the King of the Forbidden Forest, became the biggest winner.

Every night, Nietzsche would use the centaur camp to forge the scales bit by bit into a helmet with a triangular breathing hole and window in the middle on a makeshift forging table, and he would also carve magical runes on the hickory wood armor.

Although the process was exhausting, it was all worth it when he slipped the wood-grained knight's helmet and breastplate onto Smaug's body...

Beautiful, so beautiful.

Even he, the creator, was stunned.

Black scales and dark brown wooden armor, a supple tail, powerful limbs, and the anthropomorphic feel of medieval European knight armor... but Nietzsche always felt something was missing.

He thought for a moment, then plucked two dark blue feathers from a passing Silent Bird, enlarged them with an expansion potion, and stuck them into Smaug's helmet.

"Ah~ If only you could speak well and be smarter." Nietzsche suppressed his excitement and felt a pang of regret.

If he had to choose a partner, he'd prefer a talking Norwegian Ridgeback...

Nietzsche looked at Smaug, who was standing tall and scratching his breastplate with his claws, and felt a little envious—why wasn't he the warrior?

However, based on the law of conservation of emotion between Nietzsche and Hermione, there is only so much happiness. If one person is happy, the other will naturally start to worry, just like Sherlock and Watson.

There always has to be someone watching the other person laugh, or one person laughing at the other.

During the two consecutive Potions classes in the afternoon, Nietzsche hummed a song as he prepared the universal antidote, while Hermione, who was usually Snape's least worried student, kept making mistakes this afternoon.

“Miss Granger, why don’t you put your white succinate in?” Snape said calmly. “I said it should be added while stirring to speed up the dissolution, not like sprinkling salt. This isn’t cooking.”

“Sorry… I mixed up the universal antidote and the healing potion…” Hermione said softly.

This was big news, and Pansy Parkinson, who had always disliked her, immediately seized the opportunity.

“Professor, she’s a warrior now!” she laughed in a strange voice. “Of course she doesn’t have time for other classes.”

Draco didn't say much, but his gloomy smile said it all.

You see, Snape never liked students showing any disrespect for his classes, and the last person to do so... no, no one dared to do so.

Snape first gave Hermione a cold look, then glanced at Nietzsche beside her, disappointing those who were waiting to see him make a fool of himself; their headmaster had no intention of blaming Granger for this.

“This is a one-time exception.” He pondered for a moment, then continued, “Although you are a fifteen-year-old student participating in the Triwizard Tournament, it shouldn’t be too difficult for you.”

His face held a hint of mockery, but his words softened somewhat.

Yes... Nietzsche was genuinely happy for the professor, which showed that he had begun to try to ignore the unspoken rules of the Hogwarts game.

Hermione looked up in surprise, expecting to lose points, but Snape was surprisingly understanding.

Of course, this would be commonplace for other professors, but for him it was extraordinary, as impressive as giving Gryffindor a bonus for the first time.

"Potter, is your recipe ready?" Snape walked past the two men and headed straight to the back of the classroom.

Well... it seems like there's only been a little progress.

Chapter 238 Rita: I dare not speak carelessly

Snape had improved somewhat, but he remained as harsh as ever towards Harry Potter... This wasn't because of Gryffindor, but because of James Potter; after all, the sins of the father are visited upon the son.

Harry was working on the universal antidote under the professor's supervision when Colin, a third-year Gryffindor student, opened the classroom door.

“Gryffindor…” Snape frowned, intending to give the little lion a hard time as he entered.

“Professor, Mr. Bagman sent me!” Colin awkwardly stepped back, moving from next to Harry to behind Hermione, and said, hunching his shoulders, “All the champions have to be interviewed…”