Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Nietzsche led everyone through the obsidian door to the third room, with half of the students forming a circle against the wall, and Hermione serving as an example.

“You can use the Stunning Charm or the Petrifying Charm as many times as you like, and with as little power as possible.” He tossed the amulet to Hermione and continued, “But you’ll have to rely on your reflexes to activate it, just like the professor did that day…”

The room where the trolls were kept was very spacious, allowing more than fifty people to form an encirclement with Hermione as the center, with a radius of eight meters.

While it's said to train reaction speed, it's also to prepare wizards for counterattacks against heavily armed Muggles, so that they can be prepared to deal with sudden and fierce attacks as early as possible.

Hermione put away her wand, gripped her amulet, and calmly faced the tight encirclement.

At Nietzsche's signal, more than fifty spells were unleashed at different times depending on the speed at which the wizard chanted the incantations, and Hermione was able to sense the fluctuations in the surrounding magical field through rune magic.

She dodged two attacks from behind by sidestepping, and could barely be described as handling such an unpredictable and overwhelming assault with ease.

The blue-white glow emanating from the amulet always disappears after the Stunning Charm is dispelled, so Hermione will choose to dodge, and then reactivate the runic armor charm when the next attack arrives...

She was like a phoenix dancing in the rain, and the twisted spells were like water droplets splashing from its feathers.

“Next!” Nietzsche finished the demonstration and said softly, “Let’s begin with Gryffindor, Lavender Brown!”

Lavender, Hermione's roommate, confidently walked to the center and took the amulet, while her previous spot was filled by another Hufflepuff.

But soon, Lavender realized the gap between himself and the top student in his grade. Within a minute, he was struck by a petrification spell from an unknown person and fell to the ground like a wooden doll.

"Not bad for a first time, lasted 536 seconds... Neville Longbottom." Professor Quirrell noted down their time.

Don't rush, everyone will experience the helplessness of being caught in the vortex of the curse, and Nietzsche, who proposed this training method, gradually became a monster in everyone's mind--it's hard to imagine whether his mental state is still normal.

No one complained, after all... it was a rotating process, and they could beat up others before getting beaten themselves.

Apart from Hermione, the students who were experiencing this simulation for the first time all collapsed quickly. The one who lasted the longest was Cho Chang, the Seeker for the Quidditch Ravenclaw team, who barely reached one minute and thirty seconds.

"Trust your feelings!" Nietzsche advised. "Don't panic, touch the runes, feel the magic around you."

Fortunately, the effects of unconsciousness and petrification were easily dispelled by the spell. Through repeated falls and exchanges, the entire army of righteous gentlemen grew rapidly, and activating the amulet gradually became an instinct.

After class, students who wanted to leave used their own methods to escape the secret room, while those who didn't want to leave directed the giant wizard chess game in the second room, which served as a lounge.

Nietzsche also overheard several Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs discussing future decorations, such as which useful textbooks and herbs to display.

Even for the rest of the weekend, Nietzsche would see students coming and going in the room with the 'No Entry' sign hanging on it. He was overjoyed and couldn't help but wonder what changes might happen in the classroom below.

Only one person was in great pain --- Umbridge.

She was as anxious as an ant on a hot plate in her office, applying lipstick in front of a small mirror on her desk while plotting a grand plan called 'Regaining the Minister's Trust'.

“What am I going to do... I don’t want to spend my whole life at Hogwarts,” Umbridge said, conflicted. “That Sherlock Holmes fooled the Minister with just his words. No way, I’m sure I can solve a big case too.”

Now that he's been relegated to Hogwarts, he needs to produce something tangible if he wants to be reused by the Minister.

Let her think about it... pulling Nietzsche's pigtails?

That idea was immediately dismissed. No, absolutely not. This person is now practically above everyone else in the Ministry of Magic; even if we found something to criticize him on, we wouldn't be able to bring him down...

Umbridge felt lost, overwhelmed by a sense of frustration—knowing the other party wanted to cause trouble but being powerless to do anything about it.

“If Holmes doesn’t stop me, then only… Death Eaters?” Umbridge pursed her lips, her own gleeful expression reflected in the mirror. “Great! I can start with those students!”

Thinking of this, she quickly drafted several letters overnight, and after repeatedly revising them and adding her condolences and blessings to the minister and her colleagues, she went out and ran to the owl shed.

So, on Monday morning, Nietzsche, who was on his way to Potions class, noticed a crowd gathered around the notice board in the common room, and he saw Draco, pale-faced, forcefully push away a few people and run away.

The Slytherin notice board was clean. Besides the required course schedules for each year, there was a notice with a thick black print and the Ministry of Magic's Investigative Department stamp:

Hogwarts Senior Investigator Appointment Order

Given the serious threat posed by the Death Eaters to Britain, the Ministry of Magic will appoint Dolores Jane Umbridge as a Senior Investigator to oversee Death Eater families and associated students.

No wonder Malfoy and Parkinson were terrified; they were clearly being targeted by that cunning old toad.

Hermione, however, was quite worried. As soon as she saw Nietzsche coming out of the Slytherin common room at the classroom door, she hurriedly asked, "Did you see that message?"

“I see, that’s just how Umbridge is, always thinking he can solve a major case,” Nietzsche scoffed.

“This is no coincidence!” she said indignantly. “What if she uses her position as a senior investigator to pressure others? Umbridge now has the power to convict people.”

Look! Even Hermione doesn't think Nietzsche will be targeted.

However, she had a point. After all, Quirrell did have some connection with Voldemort back then, and was considered a half-Death Eater. But Nietzsche quickened his pace as he entered the classroom; he was more interested in seeing what Snape looked like.

His dear dean is a true Death Eater.

Chapter 322 Snape, the Target

Snape targeting a student is a trivial matter, nothing to make a fuss about; but if Snape were ever targeted by someone else, everyone would be eager to see who would dare to do such a thing.

On Monday morning, the Gryffindor and Slytherin students saw Umbridge sitting at the back of the classroom with a small notebook in her hand.

Regardless, Gryffindor will at least erect a tombstone for him...

"Our task today is to make a bottle of enhancer. Now, take out the mixture you prepared last week and add six drops of salamander blood." Snape ignored the unexpected guest who had appeared in the classroom.

As the course progresses, most potions are now broken down by Professor Snape into several steps, requiring three or four lessons to complete a single potion.

For the first half hour, Nietzsche simply watched Umbridge wander around the classroom, occasionally bending down to talk to a few Gryffindor witches.

"She doesn't know about Snape, does she?" Hermione whispered as she methodically brought the mixture to a boil, the bubbling sound masking her words.

The desk was a mess, covered with small bottles filled with other ingredients left over from the last class, and there was also some scarab powder scattered on it... Oops, this is Nietzsche's desk; Hermione's desk is much cleaner and tidier.

Her little hands moved rhythmically above more than a dozen bottles, which reassured the professor just by watching.

Of course, Nietzsche's surroundings may have looked chaotic, but he actually had a plan in mind for what to add and which unlabeled bottles to pick out.

“There are many things the Ministry of Magic doesn’t know. I don’t think she would target Snape out of thin air,” Nietzsche said.

Umbridge strode through Gryffindor, past several cauldrons on the verge of exploding, and then stopped behind Malfoy.

“Oh dear, I have serious doubts about the potions.” She said lightly to Malfoy’s back. “Potions like Enhancers and Mind Boosters should probably be removed… in specific cases, of course.”

Snape slowly straightened up from in front of Neville's cauldron and turned around.

They're here, they're here! Everyone, including Nietzsche, looked up, and the flames under every crucible in the classroom seemed to dim slightly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any objection to your teaching, it’s just… think about it, what if some students used these potions to help… um… Death Eaters?” she explained.

“I don’t think that will happen,” Snape said in a low voice.

“Really? But I heard this student’s father is a Death Eater.” Umbridge ran her bright red fingernails across Malfoy’s shoulder.

Snape's expression changed slightly: it was as if he had eaten a dish he disliked at a banquet full of nobles, but had to pretend to like it and swallow it down.

He pursed his lips, and his right eyebrow furrowed quickly.

“He is himself, and his father is his father,” Snape said curtly.

Umbridge nodded and manipulated the magic quill to write neatly on the notebook.

“It sounds very egalitarian… Severus Snape said: Death Eater children are all good people…” she repeated what she had written.

“You…” Snape’s lips drooped, looking very annoyed.

"boom!!"

The cauldron exploded, and Nietzsche and Hermione turned around to find Harry still with his arms outstretched, as if he had knocked the cauldron off the table, while Ron Weasley beside him stared in disbelief.

The orange-yellow solution splattered everywhere, the steaming liquid making a terrible sizzling sound as it stained the ground, chair legs, and Harry's clothes.

“Zero points! Potter!” Snape said viciously.

“It’s alright, Professor,” Harry said calmly, withdrawing his hands. “I’ve never gotten a decent potions grade anyway.”

How strange, isn't it? Normally he wouldn't admit his mistake so quickly at this time, which made Snape take a second look and feel surprised.

Several of the lion cubs who were on good terms with Harry had already started praying for their friend.

Nietzsche glanced at Harry, who was bowing his head in apology, considered the timing of his anger, and immediately understood what was going on: it was because of Snape's words in support of Malfoy: "He is himself, and his father is his father."

This statement was nothing short of an insult and irony to Harry, who knew some of the past events. As a result, he unusually threw a childish tantrum to vent his resentment and grievances.

“What does that mean?” Umbridge was drawn to Harry.

“I suggest you ask him yourself. Of course, you’ll only get answers like ‘Potter is stupid.’” Harry didn’t even have time to clean up the mess before he got up, grabbed his bag, and fled the classroom.

Umbridge watched the farce with great interest, feeling no remorse whatsoever, but rather smug as if he had discovered a new continent.

In the afternoon, while the students stood in the courtyard letting the breeze lift their wizard robes and lamenting that Gryffindor had lost another ten points, Nietzsche, pressing down on the brim of his wizard's hat, rushed up to the fourth floor and kicked open the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

The loud noise made Umbridge's hand tremble, and he spilled tea on his clothes.

"What's this about the high-level investigation order?" Nietzsche slammed the wooden door shut behind him.

“Oh dear, Mr. Holmes,” Umbridge put down his teacup, instinctively clutching his cuffs. “You know, Death Eaters are as cunning as eels, so we’re thinking of using… cough cough… unconventional methods.”

The honorifics slipped from her lips; sometimes, dealing with this kind of person requires a bit of violence.

“A threat?” Nietzsche asked, but his tone was quite certain.

“You can’t say that, that’s called ‘persuasion to surrender’,” Umbridge quickly added. “While I have the right to investigate anyone associated with Death Eaters, I believe that the person you approve of is definitely fine.”

It's clear she doesn't want to experience it again.

Nietzsche narrowed his eyes, frowning as he looked at the other person's frail appearance, thinking: Is he just going to admit defeat like that? Even if I act disrespectfully, I won't show any hatred?

Looking at Umbridge's bowed head and apologetic smile, his heart was filled with an excitement that went beyond his physical reaction.

“Mr. Holmes, you won’t object to me interrogating those Death Eater sons, will you?” said the docile pink toad. “But Snape…you see…he always seems to favor his own people…”

It seems she simply found Professor Snape's personality troublesome, which actually relieved Nietzsche.

“He’s one of my men,” he said.

“Oh, well, I understand now.” Umbridge hooked the teacup back onto his stubby fingers. “See? It’s that simple. I would never pose any…cough…danger to you.”

The last two words were ambiguous; Nietzsche guessed that she actually meant to say that she posed no threat to herself.

He stormed into the office, but as he left, he scratched the back of his head in confusion. He hadn't expected the other person to be so weak, like a chick, who would startle and panic at the slightest touch.

After Nietzsche left, he told Hermione, who was standing by the wall waiting, about it.

"So we don't have to worry about her betraying us?" Now even she became suspicious, as if all her previous worries had been in vain. "I thought she would use the investigator to threaten us."

Hermione paused, then turned to look at her boyfriend, asking curiously, "What did you and Marvolo do?"

“He didn’t do anything, all I can say is that Mahoro is very good at dealing with these extremely snobbish wizards,” Nietzsche said, pursing his lips.