Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

This displeased the people in the room, especially Hermione and Nietzsche, who had just fought Voldemort's army.

So he put on a clean wizard's robe and went outside. As soon as he opened the door, the people outside smelled a strong stench of blood and foul odor, and Fudge even gagged a few times.

"What's going on?" Nietzsche asked sternly, his voice tinged with anger. "Why are you all arguing like this... Fudge, didn't I tell Lockhart to help you retrieve Barty Crouch Jr.'s memories?"

Not only Professor McGonagall, but also Scrimgeour and Quirrell from the Ministry of Magic were here, along with several professors.

"Our clever minister wants to bring Dementors to the school," Quirrell said lazily, leaning against the wall.

“I just want to protect Hogwarts… those are Death Eaters! They’re experts at dealing with desperate criminals,” Fudge said, clearly annoyed. “There’s no war, so how does this have to do with Muggles…”

"So you're saying I'm blind? I caught those werewolves with my own hands!" Lockhart yelled. "I fought for those innocent Muggles, in places you couldn't see!"

Upon seeing Nietzsche emerge, Lockhart seemed to have someone backing him up, and his arrogance immediately flared.

He spends his days dealing with Muggle celebrities, and he's long since lost his former smile for someone like Fudge, let alone trying to please him, which infuriates Fudge.

In fact, Fudge had no reason not to believe Voldemort's resurrection. His only rival within the Ministry of Magic was protecting the Death Eaters. However, Fudge was too arrogant and somewhat foolish, and his actions were always unsatisfactory.

“It’s not just Voldemort; your main task now is to control the British government.” Nietzsche took a deep breath, reminding himself not to get angry. “The British Prime Minister will use the ‘Hangton Massacre’ to cause you trouble.”

He truly wished he could split his soul apart like Voldemort.

Everything was like a chain reaction, pushing many things to emerge, and he had to seize the initiative by taking advantage of Fudge's help.

“That’s just how Muggles are, what trouble could they possibly have…” Fudge muttered casually.

“You think they can’t handle wizards?” Nietzsche said. “One Auror might be able to take on two or three dark wizards, but they definitely can’t withstand hundreds of explosive spells… Hmm? How do you think I know that?!”

His eyes were bloodshot, as if he was about to use the Imperius Curse if Fudge disobeyed.

In fact, this idea only flashed through my mind for a moment.

Nietzsche paced back and forth in the corridor outside the school clinic like a madman.

“My mistake… but if you want to promote magic, this is bound to happen…” He suddenly grabbed the minister’s sleeve and said in an almost commanding tone, “You acknowledged that my factory is legal in the magical world, right?”

“No---that’s right.” Fudge was startled by his sudden outburst.

"Don't let the factory go to Muggles, or they'll manufacture tons of weapons—the kind the Purifiers used to attack you... stall for as long as you can..."

"what?!"

Fudge blinked, still dazed, not paying attention to Nietzsche's transgression, and even thinking that Voldemort's resurrection wasn't such a big deal.

"How can Muggles use magic... No, I just made peace with those Muggles..."

“Peace? Peace is contingent on being prepared for war!” Nietzsche’s mind raced under the influence of the Occupation Technique. He continued, “Hold them off. I can find a way to compensate for the wizards’ weaknesses!”

Quirrell watched from the sidelines, his eyes filled with sorrow, as if he could see the inner turmoil in his heart.

Nietzsche's ability to think of these things was not entirely due to his intelligence, but rather because he had experienced too much... He understood how vulnerable wizards were after Muggles were mass-produced with weapons like the 'E-11'.

“I…I understand.” Fudge couldn’t hide the disbelief in his eyes. “I will be prepared…prepare for war…Good heavens, what is all this?”

He used a lot of strength to pry Nietzsche's hands off his clothes, shaking his head and sighing repeatedly.

Nietzsche cursed Voldemort and his pureblood gang in his mind, then turned to the remaining people and said, "Mr. Scrimgeour, I want you to continue hunting down those Death Eaters and have Rita release their names."

“Mr. Quirinas, I need you to stay at the school for the time being.”

Quirrell glanced at him with interest, but didn't refuse. He simply nodded silently, the movement so subtle it was as if he were just daydreaming and shaking his head.

Not only Harry, but Nietzsche himself was also in a somewhat awkward situation.

His relationship with the Muggle and wizarding communities also seemed to become strange due to the arrival of war.

Chapter 276 I want both fish and bear's paw!

A few days later, Cedric and Harry had fully recovered and no one needed to worry about them anymore. The two would always find ways to have fun in the school infirmary to pass the time.

Lockhart acted swiftly; it's said he's already begun writing a new novel about how the great Gilderoy Lockhart outwitted the Mystic and ultimately defeated the Death Eaters...

When Lockhart got famous, he even forgot his fear of Voldemort.

Everyone was either preparing for Voldemort's arrival or celebrating Harry and Cedric's narrow escape from death...

Nietzsche was the only one who didn't join in the merriment. He couldn't laugh, nor did he know what was so joyful about it. He was currently preoccupied with both how to navigate the future of wizarding and dealing with Voldemort's army.

When Hermione found Nietzsche again, it was already the afternoon before leaving school.

"You can't take care of both at the same time," she said, looking at his bloodshot eyes with heartache.

“Why not?” Nietzsche rubbed his sore eyes; he hadn’t slept for two nights. “If wizards give gifts to the world, then they shouldn’t become whetstones. I’m sure I can find a way…”

He has his own principles, and this motivation does not come from Muggles or wizards, but from his own heart.

No one could understand the feeling of facing those magical weapons; only he could comprehend it. Now that the sharpest spear had been created, all he could do was provide the 'strongest shield'.

The answer lies with Harry...

“I often think about whether humanity will perish when the chain reaction starts... because even if there is only a one percent chance, it will happen, so I am thinking about a kind of magic, a kind of runic magic.”

Hermione felt that he couldn't take care of both Muggles and wizards at the same time, because being caught in the middle was the most dangerous thing.

But she misunderstood. Nietzsche did not see himself as caught in the middle... No, much more than that. He was a third faction independent of the middle, and only in this way could he simultaneously overwhelm Voldemort and the group of pro-war Muggles.

Since his experience during the summer vacation of third grade, he no longer trusted the British government and the Prime Minister. Now that war had come, why couldn't he stand on his own?

No one can kidnap him by claiming to be a Muggle or a wizard!

Hermione looked at the various runes in front of her, feeling as if something was blocking her heart. She suddenly remembered the scene when she was besieged by the Death Eaters.

"Our 'blood pact' is the area you're researching?" She suddenly pulled out a necklace from her collar, her eyes widening in surprise. "No wonder...no wonder those spells could be deflected..."

Of course, Nietzsche would never forget the embarrassment of being besieged, and naturally he would never let Hermione experience it again.

"The Ironclad Charm is far too weak; it can only block attacks but cannot harm the attacker... Wizarding culture is dominated by duels; they have never experienced wars where human lives are merely numbers..."

Before he could finish speaking, he was hugged by the other person, and Crookshan was almost squeezed into a pie.

The hug was filled with apology and gratitude, and Hermione only let go of poor Crookshanks when he let out a cry for help. The ginger Persian cat, after landing, angrily scratched the two of them before running away.

Hermione opened and closed her lips several times before finally managing to utter a few words: "Let's go, the banquet is about to begin."

Of course, when the two of them entered the Great Hall, they found that the decorations that were usually used to celebrate the winner of the House Cup were gone; there was neither the red and gold of the lion nor the black and green of Slytherin.

At short intervals along the four dining tables, there is a vase containing flags of Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and Hogwarts.

Karkaroff appeared very nervous. He moved to sit next to Headmaster Snape instead of with the other headmasters, seemingly terrified by Voldemort's resurrection.

Besides the headmaster and professors, Scrimgeour was also left behind and was discussing school security with Dumbledore.

The only one worth noting was Tom... no, I should say Marvolo Sisyphus, who was standing next to the main guest seat, politely smiling at each student observing him.

Perhaps Dumbledore noticed that he and Hermione had come in, so he stood up and tapped the cup in front of him.

“It’s over,” the headmaster said. “Many of you have probably heard the rumors… about Voldemort, but unfortunately it’s true, and that’s exactly why we’re all gathered here today.”

When Dumbledore uttered the name of the mysterious man, a cacophony of chatter immediately filled the Great Hall.

Many people seemed nervous and scared. Of course, not everyone was like that; some were very angry... like Goethe, who was staring at Nietzsche with hatred.

But does he care?

Nietzsche sneered inwardly. He was even more disappointed that Dumbledore would not allow him to make a move at the school.

“But we anticipated Voldemort’s actions, so Potter, Diggory, and Granger were unharmed. Darkness has come, and I hope you can unite, and I also hope... some people can make the right choice.”

He was referring to the children of the Death Eaters, and Dumbledore seemed willing to give them a chance.

Nietzsche stroked the comfortable black walnut wood, his gaze sweeping over the pastries and wine glasses filled with juice on the long table, scanning among the pureblood students, and weighing in his mind when to strike.

When he looked over, Gore, Crabbe, and the others immediately lowered their heads and looked away.

At this moment, Dumbledore beckoned to Marvolo, who was standing nearby, and brought him over, putting his arm around Marvolo's shoulder.

“Many families have been harmed by Voldemort, and Hogwarts will take them in… Let me introduce you, this is Marvolo Sisyphus, who will be reporting for duty as a fifth-year student,” the headmaster announced.

It was a fitting reason; as an innocent victim 'harmed by Voldemort,' he quickly gained the sympathy of many.

Especially those witches... Of course, Marvolo is handsome and has a pitiful, shy look, which naturally arouses the protective instincts of those older girls.

Nietzsche shifted his gaze and noticed that Harry subconsciously rubbed his forehead with his fingers, but didn't show any sign of pain—he wasn't a Horcrux anymore, so naturally he wouldn't react to Voldemort's soul.

Harry today has truly been reborn.

However, he and Ginny seemed to recognize Marvolo's appearance and were talking with their heads down.

“Mr. Sisyphus, which table would you like to sit at?” Dumbledore asked him kindly.

Nietzsche looked at the guest of honor with suspicion, guessing that the other person would probably go back to his hometown of Slytherin.

“Hmm…” Marvolo Sisyphus pondered for a moment, then said gently and cautiously, “Then please send me to Gryffindor. I’ve heard that the Mystic hates it here.”

Harry and Ginny widened their eyes simultaneously and suddenly stood up, ignoring the surprise of those around them.

What?!

Chapter 277 Potter, is this how you treat your benefactor?

Although Harry didn't recognize the diary as a Horcrux, he did recognize Marvolo Sisyphus as Tom Riddle, who had tricked Ginny in their second year, because they had met during the Chamber of Secrets.

When the other person sat down opposite them with a playful expression, Hermione covered her face and let out a long sigh.

Trouble is brewing...

“Don’t be so tense, Potter,” Marvolo said amiably, spreading his hands. “We’re even now…look, you two can sit down and eat together now, shouldn’t you thank me?”

He winked smugly at Ginny Weasley, but the girl gripped her knife and fork tighter.

“How could you—” Harry wasn’t so good-tempered. He lowered his voice and said with disgust, “What trick have you played this time?”

"Tsk tsk tsk... Potter, is this how you treat your benefactor?" Marvolo covered his mouth, feigning surprise. "Is the wound not hurting anymore? Hmm? Guess who did it? That's right, it was me~"

His smug look made the others grit their teeth even more; none of them knew if the school would be able to operate normally next year.

But what could Harry say?

Should I stand up, point at Marvolo Sisyphus, and shout: Voldemort attends Hogwarts!

However, when Nietzsche looked at the main table, he found that apart from those who already knew the truth, the other professors were all very calm, and even Madame Maxim and Karkarov did not even glance at Mavolo.

It seems Voldemort was very good at hiding his past identity...