Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

She glanced at the prefects, but none of them moved; they all sat awkwardly in their chairs, staring at Nietzsche.

“These are all magical items to protect wizards,” Hermione said bluntly, “and they are all amulets permitted by the Ministry of Magic.”

“So, Miss Granger, do you think it’s dangerous at school?” Umbridge asked.

“That’s hard to say,” Hermione said coldly. “If the school isn’t dangerous, why would Minister Fudge appoint you as a liaison there to prevent attacks by dark wizards?”

She rarely publicly opposed a professor, considering she even maintained respect for the most unpopular Professor Snape.

"Fine, fine, fine, Gryffindor loses twenty points!" Umbridge stared at the Weasley twins, his expression turning sinister.

Silence fell over the auditorium, and Nietzsche heard the sound of red gems flowing in the scoreboard.

Even though the houses are much more friendly now, Slytherin, which maintains a good rivalry with Gryffindor, has not made any sound of relief. Everyone is either glaring at Umbridge or looking at Nietzsche.

It seems some people haven't quite come to terms with the reality of who's in charge of this school.

Just as Umbridge was about to smugly grab the amulet from someone else's hand, Nietzsche, suppressing his disgust, grabbed her wrist.

"Is this the minister's idea?" he asked softly.

“This is a school, Mr. Holmes, not a place for your misbehavior,” Umbridge said in a trembling voice. “As a professor, I have the right to uphold the rules of Hogwarts!”

“But this is the work of a new department in the Ministry of Magic.” Nietzsche had reached his limit.

Umbridge paused for a moment, then gradually withdrew her fierce smile. Nietzsche had thought she would back down or completely explode, but to his surprise, she smiled gently.

“As far as I know, George and Weasley are not members of the Ministry of Magic,” she said in a coquettish voice. “Let me think… detention, you two Weasleys, come to my office after dinner.”

Is this dissatisfaction?

As a close confidant of Minister Fudge, he is now resentful of being banished to Hogwarts and forced to distance himself from the center of power.

Regardless, Umbridge instantly gained the dislike of many students, but she didn't even glance at them, deliberately turning away and walking away.

"That madwoman!" George said angrily. "She's just trying to maintain order, deliberately targeting us..."

“No, it’s targeting me.” Nietzsche turned around and looked at the worried and hesitant expressions around him. “It’s alright. You can prepare as you see fit. Don’t worry about anything else. I’m here.”

"Are you planning to go alone?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Of course not, I'll go visit her with Marvolo later."

Chapter 313 The Warm Hospitality of the Two Dark Lords

At eight o'clock in the evening, the portraits on the wall showed two dark figures sneaking towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

“Umbridge offended the professor during class today…” Marvolo said without hesitation, holding his wand and standing at the door of the third-floor office. “She seems to really think she’s an ambassador of the Ministry of Magic.”

The first Defense Against the Dark Arts class was taught to Gryffindors, which sounded terrible.

However, it was Professor Glendale with a cold face who opened the door. Nietzsche looked into the office and saw a bed with a Deathly Hallows symbol hanging above it.

"What's the matter?" the old professor said. "If you're looking for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, you should go to the fourth floor... she just moved out today."

The professor gave a disdainful smile; clearly, Umbridge had been driven away.

It's worth noting that since the third year, this office had always been shared by two professors. Nietzsche had never seen the other professor angrily kick a colleague out of the office, and even Lupin, the werewolf, had never encountered such treatment.

“We were put in solitary confinement in place of George and Weasley…” Nietzsche said honestly.

“Of course, it’s just a replacement, it doesn’t mean we’ll accept confinement,” Marvolo added from behind.

“Those two ‘little sparrows,’ ah, not surprising at all.” Glendale stroked his beard, looking at the two men with a suspicious gaze, and then continued, “At first I thought her arrival was your doing, like surveillance.”

Nietzsche quickly averted his gaze from the observation office and became alert.

It's important to know that he's very good at hiding it. Apart from people outside the power center, only Dumbledore knew how deep his control over the Ministry of Magic was before, and now there's another one—this former Mughalite has a very sharp eye.

As for surveillance, Nietzsche admitted that he had no such intention at all.

It wasn't out of any respect for the most powerful white wizard or anything like that; it was simply because I felt it was unnecessary.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Professor. I think the Ministry of Magic has no intention of monitoring the school, and never will,” Nietzsche said cautiously.

“Is that so…” Professor Glendale hesitated for a moment, then continued, “Then you should be careful.”

"What are you careful about?"

“Umbridge is very controlling, kid. She’s not a good choice.”

Nietzsche left the third-floor corridor with some confusion. As he turned around, Glendale dropped his amiable facade and stared at the two figures with Grindelwald's lifeless eyes.

At the same time, Nietzsche also felt a sense of unease, a feeling of being unable to control the situation.

"Did you know before that Dumbledore had ties to the Malay Party?" he asked as he went upstairs.

“I’m not sure, but I’m certain that Dumbledore knew a lot about the Deathly Hallows back then,” Marvolo recalled as an observer.

"Keep an eye on Professor Glendale for me. You know, even at the height of the UMNO party, they never penetrated deep into Britain. I suspect this is related to his relationship with Dumbledore. It's best to be cautious. I have a feeling he's the headmaster's accomplice."

Dumbledore, as the headmaster, was far too conservative, always trying to keep things under control within his own foresight. Regardless of what others did, Nietzsche would never have surrendered so easily.

Umbridge's office is in a remote location, between the trophy room and the room that used to be a restricted area.

Nietzsche knocked on the door, and a sweet, cloying voice came from inside: "Come in~"

Although the room that first-year students were forbidden from entering is now empty, students still rarely come here. Only during last year's Christmas dance did a few young couples hide at the end of the corridor for a date.

But when Nietzsche opened the door, he thought he had opened the door to the Room of Requirement:

Everything inside was just like in Madame Patif's Tea House; there were vases of dried lavender on the desks, and every piece of fabric had lace trim. Even the teacups were printed with cat patterns.

Besides the teapot and teacups, there were two clean parchments and two uninked quill pens on the table.

“Mr. Holmes?” Umbridge, wearing a pink cardigan with a fur collar, blended completely into the background.

“Good evening, Professor Umbridge.” Nietzsche stared at the floor, which was more appealing than the trembling fat that swayed with an obsequious smile. “I’m here to inform you of something concerning the two Weasleys.”

Marvolo maintained his smiling expression throughout, and with each step he took forward, the surrounding lights dimmed a little more.

The darkness seemed to surge in from the office doorway, extinguishing the light source, and Umbridge couldn't utter a word, his words stuck in his throat, unwilling to utter into this seemingly insane world.

Marvolo has returned to his old ways—frightening people.

“They can’t come,” he said condescendingly.

“Oh, no, no, no…” Umbridge’s voice cracked. “Mr. Holmes, I am the undersecretary sent by Fudge to assist Dumbledore. I am a professor, and you cannot… you cannot be rude to me.”

“Look, I have a talisman too. Are you going to lock me up in my cell as well?” Nietzsche pulled the expired badge out of his pocket.

"You're joking. Of course, I could be an advisor to the minister, but... but the Weasleys..."

“These aren’t theirs.” Nietzsche calmly twisted the truth. “Yes, none of the ‘contraband’ you saw were brought by Weasley, understand?”

How absurd! Umbridge had clearly seen the Weasley twins being sold and even discussed openly, yet he couldn't make any move to object. Nietzsche was quite pleased with his frustrated expression.

In his account, the Weasley twins simply happened to get their hands on these items and then kindly distributed them to other people.

Points deduction is their punishment.

The immense magic bound her, and the teacup on the table, unable to withstand the pressure, began to crack. Scalding tea seeped from the bottom of the cup, overflowing the tea tray, soaking the tablecloth, and flowing down to the woman's wrist.

Umbridge winced in pain, but was held down by Mahoro and unable to lift his hand, his mouth clenched as the fragrant flower tea burned his lip.

“But, but…” Umbridge took several deep breaths, “So, Mr. Holmes, who do you think is behind this?”

“Draco Malfoy,” Nietzsche said indifferently.

"what?"

Nietzsche walked to the desk and sat down, but then moved the chair back to prevent the liquid from dripping onto his legs.

“Here’s what happened: Malfoy stole a batch of amulets from the Ministry of Magic to get revenge on Daphne. He kept some for himself and deliberately distributed the rest to others to divert attention,” he explained.

“This…ahaha…so that’s how it is?” Umbridge grinned.

But her smile was so ugly, like she had eaten a mouthful of flies that had flown out of the toilet and couldn't say it, but had to praise that she was actually eating delicious chocolate fly beans.

“You think Weasley broke the rules, right? That proves his plan succeeded,” Nietzsche said. “Therefore, you should punish Malfoy, not Weasley or anyone else.”

“In that case…that makes sense…” Umbridge seemed to not want to offend those people, or rather, he was afraid.

The teacup shattered into a pile of fragments, which, under Nietzsche's control, landed eerily beside the other man's thick, fleshy arm, making Marvolo's eyes light up.

“Marvolo, didn’t you see Professor Umbridge got burned? Help her move her hand away,” Nietzsche said coldly, offering no argument.

Immediately afterwards, Umbridge's right arm began to twist and turn uncontrollably on the table, each roll adding more red spots to the white porcelain shards, some of which even dug deep into her flesh.

Perhaps the ordeal was too much for him, and Umbridge finally admitted his mistake.

She twisted her arms forcefully and said in a shrill voice, "Yes, yes, I understand, Mr. Holmes."

"What do you understand?" Nietzsche asked her calmly, his hands resting gently on his knees.

“It was that despicable, attention-seeking Malfoy who deliberately… deliberately framed the students, causing the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts to split because of them… I will punish him for this!” Umbridge repeated.

“Very good, thank you for not being deceived.” Nietzsche raised an eyebrow, stood up, and as he walked to the office door, he suddenly turned back and said with a smile, “Professor Umbridge, Minister Fudge isn’t here.”

(The fox will take a day off tomorrow and think about the plot of the major reshuffle of the British government and the consolidation of Dobby's undercover agents.)

Chapter 314 Malfoy's Rare display of toughness

The next morning, everyone saw that he had a bandage wrapped around his hand that was soaked with blood, but no one knew what Draco Malfoy had gone through that night.

Although George and Fred often played pranks and didn't take their studies seriously, they weren't stupid. They immediately understood the ordeal they had escaped, after all, no one wants to have bandages wrapped around their hands.

"So now we can openly sell 'skip-school candy'?" George said happily.

“And you won’t get caught!” Fred added.

The Weasley twins' side job is making these prank gadgets, and skip-school candy is one of them. Eating it will cause temporary negative effects, such as nosebleeds, fainting, and sores.

This made Hermione squint and tap the wooden table with her fingers, issuing a warning.

"Don't even think about it!" she said angrily. "This isn't for you to play better pranks."

“Just kidding.” George lowered his head under the lion’s roar and chuckled awkwardly. “Amulets sell much better than prank props…the order line stretches from the Leaky Cauldron all the way to Gringotts.”

“That had to be.” Hermione glared at them angrily, clearly not entirely convinced by their 'guarantee'.