Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Vernon gripped his shotgun tightly, his obese body shielding Penny from view.

They searched the entire playground and finally heard the sound of children playing in the shade behind a large lilac tree.

A group of boys were gathered in a circle around the burly Dudley and another ten-year-old boy, which made Vernon Dursley's face turn bright red, and it pleased Nietzsche.

"Beat him until he screams like a pig! Brother Da!"

"Nice punch...get back!" they shouted as they shoved the boy, who was staggering from Dudley's punch, back.

Dudley was clearly unaware that his parents were standing behind his friend, raising their fists, which were covered in saliva and blood from their noses, urging him to stand up again.

"Come on, Mark Evans, don't you like to insult me?"

"Pah! You're just a pig that walks on two legs, only good at bullying people weaker than yourself... But I've heard you've been beaten up before... Ah!" Before Mark could finish his curse, an angry Dudley stepped forward and punched him again.

Hermione emerged from the bushes, turned her head, and scrutinized Nietzsche. How much time had passed, yet the influence someone had left behind was still there.

Ignoring Sherlock and Lestrade beside her, she grabbed Nietzsche by the collar and whispered in his ear, "Luckily I kept an eye on you back then, otherwise you would have used your abilities to commit crimes again."

Marvolo, who was standing nearby, felt a tickle in his nose and had a feeling that Hermione was subtly criticizing him.

Marvolo was unhappy. As the former soul of Voldemort, he naturally wouldn't keep it to himself, but he couldn't afford to offend Nietzsche and Hermione, so he could only turn his anger on the dazed Vernon.

“Practicing boxing at school, huh?” Marvolo scoffed. “You should be glad this fat pig didn’t choose a little wizard as his opponent.”

"I...that's enough!" Vernon, holding his shotgun, shoved the onlookers to the ground with the butt and rushed up to Dudley. "Why aren't you at school? You wait, I'll settle the score with you later!"

"Dad? I was practicing boxing, wasn't I?" Dudley was startled, but he still seemed to think he hadn't done anything wrong.

Vernon turned to look at the indifferent Inspector Lestrade, then flew into a rage and slapped his son, leaving Dudley stunned. Nietzsche then concluded that Dursley was very concerned about his image.

To be precise, what the other party cares about is Lestrade's attitude.

“My darling baby~” Nietzsche recalled the address he had heard and said sarcastically, “Looks like I went too easy on you back then.”

Dali looked over in the direction of the voice, spotted him, and immediately deflated, all his fighting spirit gone.

"It's...it's you!"

"I'm asking you, where are the Potters?" Vernon gritted his teeth, barely suppressing his anger towards someone he didn't know he was angry at.

Keda shook his head; how would he know?

Nietzsche very gentlemanly handed Mark Evans a handkerchief, and the latter seemed quite relieved, but simply folded the handkerchief haphazardly and stuffed it into his bleeding nostril.

“That 'juvenile delinquent,' he was on the swing near the wisteria path in the amusement park. I saw him when they brought him here,” Mark said softly.

“What the hell are juvenile delinquents?” Nietzsche said.

"Don't you know? Everyone on Magnolia Street knows that the Dursleys have a juvenile delinquent. They say he's usually locked up in a juvenile detention center. I don't believe it, because Dudley deserves to be in there more than that guy."

The Dursleys felt utterly ashamed the moment their lie was exposed.

Vernon Dursley wordlessly grabbed his son's collar and drove away the gang of thugs. The cute son he spoke of as an obedient boy was actually the one who deserved to be beaten more.

As the group walked toward Wisteria Road, just as they saw Harry's lonely figure, a group of people suddenly rushed out of the circus.

"Wolves! Wolves are eating people!"

Joy was gone, replaced by people's pale faces.

Amidst the surging crowd, Petunia hugged her son tightly, Vernon stood guard by Dudley's side, while Inspector Lestrade and Sherlock gripped their gun handles, released the safety, and went against the flow, heading towards Harry in the distance.

"You brought a magic wand to protect me, didn't you?" Nietzsche said casually, stepping on the neatly trimmed grass with his hands in his pockets.

“Of course.” Hermione shook her wand.

It must be said that with the minister's backing, they can finally enjoy some of the privileges they deserve.

Chapter 290 Full Moon Potion

Screams mixed with wolf howls filled the circus hall. The previous laughter and joy instantly turned into fear. The scarlet blood looked dazzling under the colored lights, and the strange color constantly assaulted everyone's senses.

Vernon swallowed hard, knowing that experiencing it firsthand was a completely different experience from watching it on TV.

Good news: They found Harry Potter, who is staring at them in disbelief.

Good news: A werewolf tore open the curtain and crawled out.

The werewolf's face was still painted with white paint, and it wore a blood-stained wig. It sniffed, and with a sudden burst of power from its powerful hind legs, it lunged at Harry, who was sitting on the swing.

"boom!"

Vernon, rushing over, had no time to think and pulled the trigger without hesitation. The double-barreled shotgun emitted a strong smell of gunpowder. A double shot ripped through the werewolf's chest with a .20C buckshot, leaving a hole the size of a bowl on his forehead.

Harry covered his ears, bent over, and stared in shock at Vernon in front of him.

"What are you looking at me for?" Vernon yelled at him. "This is all your fault! Get your ass home... Now! Right now! Penny, take him and Dudley and get out of here!"

Lestrade reveals his identity to protect the Muggles, while Sherlock, Marvolo, Nietzsche, and Hermione arrive at the source of the trouble.

Under the spotlight of the circus performance area, three werewolves were tearing at the body of a Muggle, while an empty iron cage stood nearby, the animals inside long gone.

Upon hearing the sound, the other two also temporarily stopped tearing at the human tissue they were biting.

This was no problem for Hermione. She raised her wand, lifted the two running werewolves off the ground, and whispered the spell: "Petrify them all."

Without even needing a shattering spell, she simply slammed the petrified werewolf to the ground, turning it into a pile of solidified...meat chunks.

Because the petrification curse doesn't actually petrify a person like the basilisk curse, but only has a similar effect, the shattered werewolf appears even more terrifying—its internal body structure is exposed, but not a single drop of blood spills out.

Sherlock Holmes glanced around instinctively, then remembered that Watson was already married, so he quickly raised his gun and emptied the magazine in one go.

Two shots hit him in the head, and the werewolf's corpse slid to his feet due to inertia.

Nietzsche crouched down to examine them. Judging from the werewolves' attire and clothes, and after tearing off their work badges, he confirmed that they were staff members here... However, their wolf faces were no longer recognizable.

“This isn’t normal. I memorized the full moon date because of Professor Lupin. Yesterday wasn’t the full moon date at all, and it’s not nighttime now either,” Hermione said, frowning.

“They might be hiding their identity,” Sherlock said.

It's not impossible for a werewolf to disguise itself as a staff member from the beginning and launch an attack, but the problem is that the other staff members would be able to tell, which involves human transformation.

Compound decoctions... Nietzsche immediately thought of this.

He got up and went to the staff break room. Using the nameplates on the werewolves, he found their metal lockers and pulled out a few water bottles. They didn't smell pungent and were all the same size.

People have different personalities, and even the slightest difference can affect the color and taste of compound decoctions.

“It’s not a compound decoction, it’s the staff member himself,” Nietzsche said in a low voice.

“Are there any other spells that can trigger a werewolf to transform?” Sherlock asked.

"As far as I know, no..." Marvolo pondered for a moment, also taken aback by the sudden turn of events, "What about potions?"

So the question, after much back and forth, came back to Hermione.

But she could only smile wryly and say, "The wolfsbane potion that suppresses werewolves was invented by Damocles Belby, and since its invention during the First Wizarding War, there have been very few people who can make it, let alone a potion that catalyzes werewolves."

Hermione memorized everything about the wolfsbane potion, including its history of invention!

Great, that's very much in Hermione Granger's style.

Nietzsche stood there, staring blankly at the water bottle. He thought to himself: Many things are invented because of certain needs. During the First Wizarding War, Voldemort's army of werewolves had already appeared.

Wolfsbane was invented as a necessity of war, so is it possible that...

The sound of running could be heard in the corridor leading to the staff break room. It was the detective who had finished evacuating the crowd and was rushing back. Nietzsche quickly put away his water bottle.

“A potion to activate the wolfsbane,” he said to Hermione. “Take a letter to Snape. Voldemort is extremely skilled in potions, and we need these to analyze the liquids these werewolves come into contact with daily.”

“But what about the wolfsbane?” Hermione pressed.

Even if it is necessary to induce the effects of wolfsbane, there are still preconditions.

“That iron cage,” Nietzsche continued as Inspector Lestrade entered, “may have contained a werewolf. This practice of buying new animals for display is common in circuses, and the staff must have been scratched.”

The second half of the conversation was a deliberate clue, intended to divert the detective's attention.

This was Sherlock's usual tactic, and now it was Nietzsche's turn to use it. Because of the detective's identity, he simply threw out a smokescreen to confuse the Prime Minister and the group of people behind him.

It was indeed related to the exhibits in the iron cage, but Nietzsche did not intend to be the first to speak out, and the focus was not on the werewolves. He decided to let Voldemort and the Prime Minister clash first.

Forget Avada Kedavra, let the great Voldemort taste the blaster attack with a radius of 20 meters first!

As for the potion to untie the werewolf's bonds... let Nietzsche and the others do that. Perhaps it was just his intuition, but he always felt that it wouldn't hurt to have more trump cards up his sleeve.

He must become a hero, and he must also become a hero to the Muggles.

Chapter 291 Penny: I know this guy too!

This is typical of the Holmes family; whenever they discover a secret, they always sneakily hide it away. However, Nietzsche chose to leave the secret in an empty house near the Dursleys' home.

The landlady, Mrs. Figg, lived on Wisteria Road and had many cats. Perhaps because Nietzsche also had a cat, she gave it away for the extremely low price of £1000.

Nietzsche wanted to keep Sherlock around to solve the case, but his father refused the offer and insisted on returning to Baker Street.

“You’ve grown up, son.” Sherlock looked deeply at the girl beside his son and sighed. “Watson and I are not wizards after all, and we can’t solve cases with wizarding minds... This is your path.”

“This doesn’t sound like something you would say.” Nietzsche frowned, wondering what his father was up to now.

However, he waited for a long time but did not see the smile return to Sherlock's face. This time, his father might be telling the truth, which puzzled him even more. He had never heard such a tone of surrender come from the other man's mouth before.

Sherlock put on his hat, picked up the bottle, and shook the clear, colorless, and odorless water inside.

“I’ve thought about taking Moriarty down with me, because I know that ordinary methods won’t work on him. Nietzsche, magic is your domain… From the Peace Summit onwards, I realized that I was no longer able to stop this crazy world.”

Faced with extraordinary magic, he was so helpless that only a little girl could solve the problem.

Nietzsche, however, stubbornly retorted, "So what? You're just going to give up like that? You and Watson have gambled countless times, what's one more time?"

“Yes, I am indeed gambling, so I won’t interfere with your plans. Consider it my whim.” Sherlock straightened up with a sigh of relief and said with a smile, “Besides, it was I who asked Lestrade to contact you for his commission.”

Marvolo jumped up excitedly and shouted, "So you're quitting? Great, then I'm not going back to Baker Street."

"No, you have to come back. I'm very interested in the psychology of you wizards... You'd better come back before sunset every day, or I'll have Mrs. Hudson give you a good 'education' for being a latecomer."

"Oh, this isn't fair!"

Marvolo Sisyphus, who had been happy about this, hung his head like a drowned rat, his eyes filled with resentment as he stared at Sherlock's departing figure.

This is an empty house with few pieces of furniture, and the floors and stair railings are covered in dust.

Like Nietzsche's heart, the room became light and empty with his father's footsteps. He was like an astronaut flying into space, drifting aimlessly in a weightless environment, not knowing when he would stop.