Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Wouldn't the Magic Party certainly not harm Smaug?

The fire dragon bore the marks of ancient magic in both its blood and scales. Even as crimson cracks began to appear on its pearwood armor, this ancient magic did not harm it; instead, it became its weapon.

A red lightning bolt imbued with a destructive intent.

Let's give it a try... and see if the giant can stop it...

Smaug and Nietzsche swooped down with dark clouds and lightning, their powerful hind legs slamming into the giant's body, forcing its feet into the ground, and the surrounding lightning paralyzed it, rendering it unable to move.

A giant's body can easily smash a Muggle's house and block ordinary spells, but it cannot stop death.

Amidst Smaug's roar and the werewolf's howl, the red lightning spear pierced the giant's chest, causing it to groan in agony. This magnificent sight captivated Riddle.

Smaug, the King of the Forbidden Forest, stands atop the body of a giant.

“Voldemort.” Nietzsche raised his wand, pointing it at the other man. “You’re practically my teacher, aren’t you satisfied?”

Magic grabbed several Death Eaters behind Voldemort, lifted them into the air by the throat with a 'crack' sound, as pleasant as someone biting into delicious cartilage.

Voldemort was not angry, and didn't even bother to look at the dead Death Eaters.

“You’re more like a wizard than McNeil, Avery, and Goyle, not some spineless groveler,” he said softly. “Come to me, son, and I can get rid of some shady characters for you.”

That's pitiful. I wonder how Gore will react when he gets home and hears that his father is dead.

Seeing Nietzsche raise his hand, the other Death Eaters immediately knelt down beside Voldemort, pleading for something, though Nietzsche could guess from the names of the dead Death Eaters.

The rest of those surrounding Voldemort were nothing more than Malfoy, Parkinson, Crabbe, and others.

"That's all? I'm not interested in the pureblood ideology."

"Why can't you understand... peace... love... these things will crumble overnight after you die. Only power and immortality can hold everything!" Voldemort said.

He grew tired of it and lazily kicked over the tombstone next to him that was engraved with 'Riddle'.

Thick black smoke billowed from Voldemort's body, and wherever it passed, rotting hands emerged from in front of the graves. At the same time, a chilling shriek echoed from the Muggle village below the mountain.

"It's a corpse, we need to leave." The headmaster was lifted by the phoenix onto the fire dragon's back. "Fire God, clear the way!"

He wielded his wand like a whip, transforming the flames that originally belonged to Voldemort into his own shield, surrounding the fire dragon and blocking the mindless infernals.

The fire dragon was so large that everyone could easily touch her, and then Phoenix Fox landed on Smaug's head.

When the phoenix flames ignited on Nietzsche, he felt no pain at all. On the contrary, it felt much like the warmth of chatting with friends by a fireplace in winter, and familiar noises gradually filled his ears.

Fox brought them back...

Chapter 274 A formidable foe lies ahead; it's a friend's premonition.

The audience at Hogwarts had no idea what was happening; they simply saw a group of people riding a blood-soaked, spark-spitting dragon suddenly appear in the Quidditch pitch.

McGonagall and Hagrid rushed over and took Harry from the weary-looking Dumbledore's arms.

"It's really back?"

“I brought him back,” Dumbledore said. “Minerva, take him to the school hospital first… I’ll tell you the rest later.”

Nietzsche collapsed on the dragon's back, too weak to speak. He was thinking about Voldemort's resurrection—the Muggles would surely know about the tragedy in Hangleton and would therefore equip themselves with new weapons.

But it was also a fortunate thing, because Harry's identity changed from a passive 'Horde' to a 'weapon' that could resist and was not harmed.

Nietzsche glanced at Riddle, who was hiding in the shadow of the dragon's wings. If Riddle had absorbed the remnant soul from Harry Potter's body during his resurrection, then the relationship between the three of them would become even more interesting...

Among the crowd that stood up to watch, a couple rushed out.

"Son...son!" The man pushed aside the person blocking his way with superhuman strength, clumsily climbed over the fence, and stumbled to Cedric's side. "How are you?"

Qiu Zhangwu clutched her chest and followed behind the lady. She saw the bloodstains seeping through Cedric's wizard robes and her heart began to tremble.

“He’s alright, Amos. Take Cedric out to rest; he needs a good night’s sleep.” Dumbledore patted the father and son on the shoulder, gently comforting them. “I’m sorry to have dragged him into this.”

"Ahem... So who is the champion?" Fudge seemed to think this was an awards ceremony, but he looked around and couldn't see the trophy.

Lockhart, with Quirrell's impatient help, jumped off the dragon. He was visibly pale and trembling, clutching his wand tightly, but he didn't flinch at the spotlight-like illumination charm.

Although he struggled to deal with even one Death Eater, it was still very helpful in terms of propaganda.

After all, how could one write such a perfect and realistic novel without confronting Voldemort directly?

"Minister, I'm sorry to bring you bad news—Voldemort has been resurrected." Nietzsche removed his helmet, splattered with werewolf blood, and said coldly.

"Who? The mysterious man?" Fudge was terrified, as if he'd been slapped by an audience member. He stammered, "No...no joke, how could...how could a dead person come back to life..."

He stared intently at the minister, who seemed very reluctant to admit it.

It's just unclear how much of this stemmed from fear of Dumbledore and how much from fear of Voldemort.

Smaug noticed Nietzsche had stood up, so he spread his wings slightly, forming a staircase close to the ground. He unfastened his black cloak and slowly walked to the minister.

“Voldemort never died. He took Potter’s blood and used ancient dark magic to create a new body,” Nietzsche explained. “Barty Jr. is imprisoned in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Office, where you can interrogate him in person.”

"I...I mean, 'I'm talking about...'" Fudge was still out of breath.

"What are you afraid of? You just need to publicly declare that you will eliminate the Death Eaters and Voldemort, and you'll gain a lot of support. Dumbledore won't take your place, I guarantee it..."

Perhaps he had calmed down, because Fudge quickly composed himself.

“But he’ll use this to expand the Order of the Phoenix…” he leaned down and whispered nervously.

“But you can announce wartime legislation and expand the executive branch. Also, you must seize control of the wizard factories and not let them fall into the Prime Minister’s hands.” Nietzsche finished speaking in one breath and then told Lockhart to take the minister away.

He had seen stupid people, but he had never seen anyone as stupid as this, possessing legitimate rights yet fearing a powerful but upright white wizard.

What is the Order of the Phoenix? No matter how powerful they are, they can't possibly attack the Ministry of Magic.

Dumbledore ultimately championed order, not chaos; otherwise, he would have become Minister for Magic long ago, and Fudge, who had run for office, wouldn't be here worrying...

I wonder how much Lucius Malfoy whispered in my ear when he was an advisor to the Ministry of Magic.

“Alright, darling—how about going to take a bath? You’ve had a hard time.” Nietzsche turned around and affectionately pressed his face against the dragon’s menacing nose. “From now on, you are the undisputed Dragon King… at least that’s how I see it.”

Hermione sighed weakly, coldly watching as the dragon let out a joyful cry and flew away towards the Black Lake.

For some reason, she found that Nietzsche seemed to be very good at coaxing Smaug, and quite skillfully at it, making the dragon obedient like a dog with just a few words.

"You guys worked together so well today, much better than me, a real warrior!" she said, her voice thick with a nasal tone.

“Strictly speaking, you deserve some credit for this as well.” Nietzsche took her hand again. “Come on… if it weren’t for you, how could Smaug and I have killed a giant?”

They arrived at the school infirmary, where Pomfrey told them that Harry Potter had not suffered any serious injuries, but had fainted due to mental distress and blood loss.

Cedric's bed was next door, surrounded by worried friends, his partner, and family.

His problems were actually more serious than Harry's. First, there were various dark magic effects, and then there was the weakness caused by the depletion of magic... but it was better than death.

“So what’s the point of having Harry continue? Continue playing the savior?” Nietzsche drew the curtain and instructed, “Quirinus, could you please go to my dormitory and retrieve the Horcrux? Password: ‘Honor Forever’.”

He glanced at Riddle, who had remained silent throughout. Riddle had also resurrected during this opportunity, so he needed to make sure that Riddle's true form wasn't hidden.

Dumbledore reached out and gently smoothed out Harry's furrowed brow.

“The plan has been completed smoothly, so there will be no difficulty for him to serve as the savior.” The headmaster smiled slightly. “You understand the protection Harry has, right? Now, as long as Voldemort doesn’t die, he won’t die.”

This surprised Nietzsche somewhat. He activated his Occlumency technique and calmed himself down to ponder the connection:

The protection Harry receives is Lily's ancient magic, triggered by 'love'. Voldemort's resurrection and taking his blood will create a symbiotic relationship between them due to the ancient magic.

Riddle was resurrected through a ritual, and he then devoured the remnant soul within Harry, thus allowing Harry to transfer his identity as a 'Horde'.

“Harry is the most unrestrained one,” Nietzsche immediately realized.

“That’s right, he won’t be killed by Voldemort.” Dumbledore’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “I didn’t know that until Riddle and I found the magic about resurrection.”

This is what the principal wanted.

This would free Harry from the Horcruxes while also giving him the confidence to fail.

They can fail countless times, but Voldemort can't fail even once... Once the remaining Horcruxes are destroyed, it will be time for Riddle and Voldemort to fight it out.

Chapter 275 A Bizarre Triangular Relationship

Originally, Nietzsche envisioned that Harry had to sacrifice himself to destroy the Horcruxes. But now, with Voldemort's resurrection and the ancient magic within him that Lily used to protect Harry, everything has changed.

Harry will not be able to be killed by Voldemort's Killing Curse before Voldemort dies.

In other words, the moment Voldemort cleverly resurrected himself using Harry's blood, he had already chosen his 'savior'.

“To be honest, I was worried about this child’s future, but now it’s alright.” Dumbledore cheerfully tucked Harry into bed, his smile wide and wide. “Thank you, Riddle…”

Nietzsche and Hermione stared at Dumbledore in astonishment, who had completely lost any of the composure and wisdom expected of a headmaster.

Moonlight streamed through the window of the school infirmary, illuminating Harry's sleeping face. After Dumbledore soothed the pain and sorrow between his brows, all that remained was tranquility—an old man looking lovingly at his child.

Riddle looked the strangest, as if he'd stuffed a whole bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans into his mouth. First he wrinkled his nose, then showed disdain, and after a moment he stared calmly at Dumbledore...

"If you're going to spout that old rhetoric about understanding love again, then forget it. I'm just aiming for the resurrection," Riddle said.

“I’m just thanking you for saving a child’s life,” Dumbledore said softly. “You saved Harry instead of choosing to become Voldemort… See, you’ve become more human since you accepted your Muggle part.”

"It's just a transaction."

Riedel pointed to the principal and Nietzsche, then to himself, describing the whole thing in a detached manner.

The deal was that Riddle's resurrection was contingent on helping Harry clear the soul from his body, since the original 'Diary' was still in Nietzsche's hands, and life and death were just a matter of his whim.

"So what should we call you now?" Hermione broke the silence. "Now that you're resurrected and have a physical body, you need a name to distinguish yourself from Voldemort, right?"

These words reminded Riddle that he moved away from the bedside, stood by the window, and tilted his head up at a 35-degree angle.

"Mavolo...Mavolo Sisyphus."

“You still remember her.” Dumbledore’s heavy sigh made him seem even more melancholic. “Your mother—Melop…”

“Among the Pleiades, Merope is the least remarkable one, because the other six married gods, while she married a mortal,” Riddle said coldly. “How could I forget that, in my few remaining memories, these are the only things that remain.”

Perhaps it was fate; after all, Voldemort had separated those 'weak' memories, and these were all the memories he could remember.

At the same time, Nietzsche understood that the other party was mocking him: the cunning and clever Riddle had deceived Death, but wasn't this also a kind of punishment? His birth stemmed from this memory, and now he had to continue to carry it with him.

Just then, a few noises came from the door of the school clinic.

"How could this be? I have enough faith that Voldemort is still alive... No... Preparing for war? You're all insane!"

Nietzsche heard Fudge shouting and reprimanding several people.