Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

During Monday's Ancient Rune Literature class, Nietzsche showed Professor Quirrell the 'half-finished product' he had made over the weekend. The professor wasn't satisfied with just looking at it; he had to hold it in his hands and admire it from afar.

And Nietzsche? He was completely drained, slumped limply on the table, motionless.

You should know that he spent the entire weekend, two days in a row, at the Room of Requirement, repeatedly conducting various tedious experiments, and also having his mind temporarily paralyzed by Occupational Therapy.

"Hey! The professor didn't say there would be any extra homework," the Gryffindor lion cubs protested.

Everyone is fine, so how come someone secretly did their own 'homework'?

The others didn't understand what was going on; they were simply curious about Professor Quirrell's loud shouting at the badge in class.

“Isn’t this the amulet that George and Fred sold?” Mandy from Ravenclaw pushed up her glasses and squinted. “But it looks a little different. It feels more powerful than the original Ironclad Charm.”

Mandy, the kind of student at Ravenclaw who buried herself in her studies, immediately noticed something was wrong.

“Powerful…look at the radiance and symbols on it!” Quirrell said excitedly, pinning the badge to his chest. “Anyone want to try it?”

He meant having the students attack him to test the effectiveness of the rune-enhanced armor spell. This was a great opportunity for the students, a rare chance to take out their wands and try it out.

Everyone wanted to step forward, show off, and vent their anger at the fact that Defense Against the Dark Arts class couldn't put their skills to practical use.

"Petrify them all!" Under the professor's encouraging gaze, Terry Boots drew his wand and cast a spell that wasn't particularly malicious.

Hermione saw the beam of the petrification charm pass through the aisle between the desks, and when it was almost a finger's width away from the professor, it was suddenly blocked by a blue-white halo—or rather, 'deflected'.

Like a flat stone skipping across a black lake, even the trail of the spell was distorted by runic magic.

“Interesting… Runes not only enhance the effect of the Ironclad Curse, but also utilize magic more efficiently,” Quirrell explained. “Magic doesn’t just exist within a wizard’s body; it’s everywhere.”

"So it's not a one-time thing anymore?" Hermione turned her head and looked at Nietzsche beside her in surprise.

"No, no, no, the key lies in the 'defense' effect, not just making the 'armor' stronger. It can be said that this rune amulet, imbued with Nietzsche's will, influences the wearer's energy field at all times."

If we think of spells as 'bows and arrows', then the Ironclad Charm is like armor. A wizard's skill only affects the thickness of the armor, which is why, although the Ironclad Charm is a defensive spell, it can sometimes be used as an offensive tool.

Hit.

In close combat, powerful wizards often regard the Ironclad Charm as a more widespread knockback spell.

But Nietzsche's Ironclad Charms are a defense that is closer to the essence of magic: Explosion Charms, Cutting Charms, Petrification Charms... whatever, as long as the essence is still magic, then it will be assimilated when it gets close to the wearer.

No matter how heavy the rain, it will eventually flow into rivers and the sea.

"Then wouldn't that mean we're invincible?" Mandy stammered, the truth already beyond her comprehension.

That's right!

However, Professor Quirinas Quillo stroked his chin, pondered for a moment, and then held up two fingers.

“It will fail and is unstable; secondly…” He didn’t disturb the dozing Nietzsche, and said softly, “If I’m not mistaken, this won’t be very effective against some black magic.”

"Why?" Hermione didn't understand. She wasn't an expert in this area; she was only good at translating runes.

“Because rune magic is a product of personal will, if Mr. Holmes loses hope or faith, the runes will lose their effect,” Quirrell said.

This was said in a very mysterious way, and the other students could only nod in agreement.

“What if…Nietzsche died?” Terry Booth added hastily. “Of course, I mean what if, because when a person dies, nothing is left.”

Death, an eternal topic, seems to require us to see things through to the end before we can have any real peace of mind.

“That depends on their state before they died,” Quirrell said gently. “Wizards can always communicate with the world using all sorts of strange magic, so even after death, they can still leave some traces in the world…”

For example, the spirit?

However, it is almost impossible for a person to die without any remorse.

Hermione's gaze softened considerably. When Nietzsche closed his eyes to rest, desperately needing to relax his tense mind, he missed those chocolate-colored eyes and the hand gently resting on his body.

Even after recognizing the absurd and random nature of life, one can still love it.

That's what she thought to herself. Time seemed to have suddenly returned from Hogwarts to the past, and looking at the bewildered expressions of the others, she felt a sense of pride—only she understood him.

If anyone thinks Nietzsche is the third Dark Lord, then she is willing to be his accomplice.

"So, as long as Nietzsche still has the will to protect, his runic magic will never dissipate?" Hermione felt she should be more certain in her tone, otherwise it would sound a bit doubtful.

This is a declarative sentence.

“Theoretically speaking—that’s right.” Quirrell felt uneasy and continued, “But no one can stay sane forever. Countless pressures can break him down... drive him crazy...that’s only human nature.”

“No!” Hermione said decisively this time, “I won’t let him down.”

"His whole world doesn't revolve around you..."

Betrayal by friends, death of companions, departure of relatives, or future disagreements—these are all just part of Nietzsche's experience, including those he has not yet experienced but will inevitably experience.

But Mandy disagreed, saying, "And then there's us. Mystic has been resurrected, Death Eaters are lurking outside, only Nietzsche is working for us, for our world. Anyone with eyes can see that."

The entire Rune Literature classroom was filled with a series of echoing voices:

“That’s right. In that case, let’s just keep Nietzsche hopeful.”

"He's working hard to protect us, we should...we should do something, right? At least support him."

No one was forced or had no choice; everyone thought this way willingly. This filled Quirinas Quiro's eyes with relief as he looked at Nietzsche—he didn't have to work so hard anymore, and he didn't have to bear so many mistakes on his own shoulders.

The voices of approval were very quiet, as if no one wanted to wake Nietzsche, while they showed a hint of fanaticism towards the amulet on the professor's chest.

“Then let me see what you actually do. Anyone can talk the talk.” Professor Quirrell smiled mysteriously and flicked the badge a few times. “After all… one isn’t enough; you have several hundred of you.”

These words made the students' eyes light up; who wouldn't want a perfect amulet?

“In that case, the emblem can’t be Gryffindor!” Ravenclaw’s Mandy pushed up his glasses.

“Then it can’t be a raven or an eagle!” the Gryffindor student protested, but only because he was defiant towards Ravenclaw.

“If you ask me, it should be… the school emblem.” A student in the front row propped his elbows on his chair, turned around and suggested, “That way, no one will have to argue, and everyone can have all four animals.”

"Outdated!" But this idea was immediately criticized.

If you call them naive, they'll take sides and support Nietzsche without hesitation, even if he sacrificed himself for them; if you call them sensible, they can argue fiercely over a single pattern, desperately making all sorts of provocative faces at each other.

Quirrell smiled and took a sip of water, then leaned against the blackboard watching the lively students.

Finally, the farce came to an end at Mandy's direction, with her saying, "Why don't you ask Hermione? She's Nietzsche's real girlfriend..."

Hermione nearly choked on her own saliva: Wait, the real one? Are there imposters?

The next second, everyone's eyes were fixed on her.

“Ahem… I think Nietzsche’s patron saint is the rune serpent, so how about calling it ‘The Army of Gentlemen’? That’s related to his ideals, what do you think?” Hermione had a sudden inspiration and came up with an idea.

"I second the proposal."

Chapter 317 Ordinary but Comfortable Daily Life

In life, it's inevitable to encounter unexpected events; that's normal. Nietzsche was experiencing this kind of change.

For example, after a long day of classes, he would collapse onto his bed, exhausted, only to wake up the next day to find Hogwarts transformed—a group of people were discussing an open class...

At first he thought he had misheard, until Mr. Filch posted the notice on the bulletin board with a stern face:

This Friday evening, Professor Quirrell and Professor Glendale will be giving a public lecture on the application of magic in the Great Hall... open to all grades.

“This is not like Gilderoy Lockhart’s dueling club.” Nietzsche had just sat down at the Slytherin table when he heard Daphne recommending it to some students. “I mean… at least Quirrell is better than him.”

Well, whenever something big happens at school, the second-year professors always get dragged out and humiliated.

Nietzsche didn't think Quirrell was such a high-profile person, so he asked curiously, "Who started this?"

“It’s Professor Glendale. He has nothing to do and refuses to teach in the same classroom as Umbridge,” Daphne said. “Maybe Dumbledore is giving him some time to kill, but who knew Quirrell would actually agree.”

Nietzsche frowned. In fact, only he knew how strong the old professor was. After all, Hermione's war magic was taught by him.

This morning's meal was soft Italian ciabata bread, with many huge air pockets on the cross-section. Nietzsche had just stood up to dip it in sweet sauce when the little snake across from him casually pushed the plate of jam towards him.

This subtle gesture startled Nietzsche for a moment, but he didn't think much of it...

"Did everyone see that notice?" Marvolo casually pulled up a chair and sat down. "It really infuriated that old toad, Umbridge."

He had just greeted George and Fred, and had clearly integrated successfully into Gryffindor.

Of course, Nietzsche was making a fuss over nothing. For Marvolo, this was a very simple matter. Dealing with a bunch of simple-minded lions was much easier than dealing with purebloods who were always calculating gains and losses.

"What happened?" Daphne asked him.

“Last night, while I was touring the trophy display room, I heard the old toad screech,” Marvolo chuckled. “I can almost picture her scratching her head in frustration… all her classes have been canceled.”

"Nighttime strolls?" Nietzsche asked, raising an eyebrow.

Typical Gryffindor behavior; it's practically become their initiation ceremony.

"As a freshman, I should at least know something about my new school, like how you raised a dragon in the Forbidden Forest, or how there's a student council president named Tom Riddle who has received many honorary certificates," Marvolo said shamelessly.

“Ah, I thought that name had been abandoned,” Nietzsche said evasively.

At that moment, Umbridge burst into the auditorium. Her affected voice was like a fly, instantly ruining the appetite of many students. Fortunately, her target was several professors in the main audience.

Quirrell was the first to suffer; when he looked up, he saw a mass of breathing fat.

“How could you… how could you do this? It was Dumbledore’s idea, wasn’t it?” Umbridge feigned grievance. “Your so-called open class time conflicts with my Defense Against the Dark Arts class.”

“There’s really no other way, Professor Umbridge,” Quirrell said apologetically. “I can’t very well take away my students’ weekend rest time.”

Honestly, that's even more infuriating than direct mockery.

Oh, so rest time is important, but Defense Against the Dark Arts class time isn't? It seems so. For students, they'd love that, and it would be best if Monday's class were canceled too.

"You have no right to do this! I...I will report this to the minister!"

Umbridge initiates a 'complaint'.

But nothing happened.

"The minister is so busy, he doesn't have time to manage the school. He also has to deal with my affairs~" Quirrell blinked innocently. "I need to report some experimental progress to the minister... Oh, you know about these things too?"

Umbridge was speechless, because she had nothing left to offer Fudge.

But she was not giving up. She glared at the professors who were snickering, stomped her feet like a girl throwing a tantrum, puffed out her cheeks, and walked away in a very disheveled state... or rather, she 'escaped'.

Starting with herbalism lessons, or perhaps it was just an illusion, Nietzsche always felt a strange smoothness in his actions:

When he was about to tend to the Chinese cabbage, a classmate would always casually hand him a pair of dragon-skin gloves without even looking up; and when he returned to Charms class in the afternoon, he didn't even need to push the door open—the person in front of him wouldn't close it behind them...