Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Finally, he found the unusually 'bright' mouse.

Nietzsche rushed over at top speed, stepped on the rat's tail, and picked it up.

"Long time no see, Peter." He ignored the squeaking beside him, looked down at the mouse, and said, "Looks like Voldemort's gotten smarter, hasn't he? He's too scared to foolishly rush at me alone..."

Peter Pettigrew panicked, thinking he must have encountered a ghost tonight.

Chapter 354 Just out of the wolf's den, into the tiger's mouth

Peter Pettigrew is in an even worse situation than before:

His hair had balded in large patches from running around, with only a few gray hairs remaining on either side of his ears, which would probably fall out completely in a while. His right hand, on the other hand, had been fitted with a silver prosthetic by Voldemort's alchemical magic.

Years of malnutrition and excessive mental strain not only failed to make him lose weight, but also made his face even more swollen.

He suffered greatly. He thought that following Voldemort would bring him a life of plenty, but instead, he only got leftovers.

"How could this be?" Peter Pettigrew scrambled backward in the darkness.

Those familiar blue eyes and gravity magic—he couldn't think of anyone else but the already dead 'Nietzsche Holmes'.

"Hmm...it seems Voldemort really has no one left to use," Nietzsche said sarcastically.

It seems that the battle at the Ministry of Magic resulted in heavy losses for Voldemort. Most of his elite and core forces either died in the initial ambush or in the 'Westminster Bomb,' which caused the ground of the entire city to cave in.

Compared to Slughorn, who spent most of his time at home enjoying student offerings, almost every Death Eater could not forget Nietzsche's face.

Fear has been deeply ingrained in their minds.

“But how could you become… No! I didn’t do anything, don’t kill me!” Peter Pettigrew looked like he had taken a big gulp of absinthe, his expression extremely ugly.

This is Peter Pettigrew. Even after becoming a Death Eater, he is different from others. His first reaction after being captured is not to fight back or to bring up the Dark Lord to scare people, but to try his best to distance himself from the situation.

He was clearly trying to say that he wasn't involved in what happened before and didn't help Voldemort.

Nietzsche cleared his throat, made his voice rough, and breathed out a hoarse sound, making him sound like a man in his forties.

“If you ask me, Voldemort could survive, so why can’t I?” Nietzsche said hoarsely, his eyelids drooping naturally. “Excuse me, could you come closer? My eyesight isn’t very good…”

Peter Pettigrew felt as if something was pressing down on his neck, so he quickly lowered his head and took a few steps.

“You didn’t do anything back then, so what are you doing here this time?” Nietzsche’s tone grew increasingly forceful, threatening, “My skills may have declined a bit, so you might suffer a bit more before you leave.”

He was very careful with his wording, trying his best to create the illusion that 'many years have passed'.

"Please... I'll tell you anything..." Peter Pettigrew didn't think twice in the face of this death threat. Snot and tears immediately streamed down his face, and he sobbed like a goblin whose toe had been stepped on.

But Nietzsche thought: This kind of person is not loyal to anyone, and even if he follows Voldemort now, he will only have nowhere else to go.

Just as he was figuring out how to deal with Pettigrew, the silver alchemical prosthetic arm on the opponent's right wrist suddenly broke free from the gravity magic's restraints for no apparent reason, causing the bones in the right arm to be twisted and dislocated.

But Silver Hand did not attack Nietzsche; instead, he choked Peter Pettigrew, whose eyes were blurred with tears.

This very point dispelled Nietzsche's murderous intent: it was merely Little Star being punished, driven by his will to survive, he betrayed the cause, and was being strangled by the prosthetic limb given to him by Voldemort.

His face gradually turned from deep red to purplish-red, his heart pounded wildly as his life was about to end, and blood began to well up in his eyes.

Finally, Nietzsche raised his wand, ending the Silver Hand's movements at the very source of alchemy, leaving Peter Pettigrew kneeling limply on the ground, gasping for breath in the stench of rotting food beside the garbage can.

“Voldemort seems to trust you a lot,” he said.

“Trust…cough cough! Trust?” Peter Pettigrew touched his silver right hand with his left. “I can’t feel my hand…”

This 'trust' doesn't mean Voldemort trusted Peter Pettigrew; quite the opposite, Nietzsche meant that Voldemort had great confidence in his own abilities.

Allowing a Death Eater whom he never trusted to come out was not just because he had no one else to use, but more because he believed he could completely control Peter Pettigrew and therefore could be taken advantage of.

"What's the purpose of your visit?" Nietzsche coldly raised his wrist, revealing his watch. "You have one minute. If you can't answer, your head will be gone."

Upon hearing that he was still going to die, Peter Pettigrew lay on the ground and cried again.

"Crying? Crying counts as time too."

"The Dark Lord made me control Slughorn!" Because Peter Pettigrew was unaware that the alchemy had temporarily failed, he placed both feet on his right hand. "I also found out about becoming a professor!"

He frantically embellished his image, hoping to make Nietzsche see something of value in him.

Sixty seconds passed quickly, but the news was not unexpected. After all, Nietzsche was just squatting there to temporarily protect Slughorn, so he hesitated as he looked at the bloated, pointed-nosed face.

"Let's continue with the story of becoming a professor." His indifferent tone left the other person unable to discern any meaning.

"The Dark Lord thinks you're dead, so he wants to control Slughorn to sneak into the school and then let us and the Dark Army from outside the Forbidden Forest in." Peter Pettigrew swallowed hard, afraid of angering Nietzsche.

"You guys thought I was fucking dead, and then you thought you could turn the tables?"

Nietzsche was so angry he laughed, and subconsciously raised his voice.

However, it's also good news. At least he now knows that outside the Forbidden Forest, in another grove of trees that doesn't belong to Hogwarts, there are a large number of dark creatures such as infernals, giants, and werewolves.

Peter Pettigrew quickly defended himself: "Nobody knows you're still alive, I don't know either..."

"He, Voldemort, thinks he can defeat Dumbledore? And with such serious injuries?" Nietzsche took a step back to avoid getting disgusting snot on himself.

Upon hearing him call him Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, timid as ever, trembled and awkwardly paced back and forth on the silver hand.

Impossible. Everyone in the wizarding world knows that the Dark Lord never dared to confront Dumbledore directly. Therefore, even if the secrets Peter Pettigrew mentioned could be verified later, there must be an information gap involved.

Voldemort may not have been solely motivated by a desire to conquer Hogwarts.

Of course, Hogwarts is a landmark of the British wizarding world and can be used to destroy people's confidence, but now there are also those Muggle Stormtroopers who have been 'wizarded' and controlled by Gilderoy Lockhart.

"very good..."

"Can I exchange my life for yours?" Peter Pettigrew pleaded, holding out his silver hands.

“In that case, you can go back and tell him that the mission is complete, and that Slughorn will work for Voldemort.” Nietzsche crouched down and stabbed the crushed silver hand with his wand.

“Go back?” Peter pleaded. “The Dark Lord will kill me…”

Without a doubt, it is a true alchemical artifact, and because it carries Voldemort's will, if Little Star disobeys Voldemort's orders, it will immediately carry out punishments that correspond to Voldemort's will.

This punishment demonstrates Voldemort's distrust of Peter: disobeying orders is tantamount to betrayal.

Nietzsche, who protected countless people, was very familiar with this process. He easily activated the runes on it, which displayed '?' (eihwaz), meaning 'purple robe', representing 'death'.

After the rune was relit, Peter Pettigrew quickly fell backward onto the pile of trash.

"It hurts so much... It hurts? My hand is all better now!" Peter didn't seem bothered by the filth around him at all. He just raised his hand towards the night sky and kept looking at his unchanging silver hand.

“If you dare to betray me, the outcome will be just like what happened before,” Nietzsche said calmly. “Think carefully. This silver hand is attached to you; I can't stop it every single moment…”

The moment he extinguished the magic in his silver hand, his magical will had already been deceived. After all, Voldemort was focused on the study of dark magic and immortality, unlike Nietzsche who delved into them so deeply.

The magic on it forces Peter Pettigrew to carry out the orders and forbids him from resisting.

Given Voldemort's use of runes, it's not even a question of preventing betrayal; otherwise, where would there be so many Death Eaters? Nietzsche probably wouldn't even need to lift a finger to kill a portion of them.

“But I can’t deceive that person!” said Pettigrew. “Let me stay by your side, I promise... I’m willing to give my life to prove it.”

“I told you, he trusts you and won’t doubt your actions.” Nicholas kicked him hard and pointed his wand into the distance. “Now, it’s your turn to go back and report to Voldemort.”

Peter Pettigrew won't be exposed, because as long as he's alive, it means he's already fully completed his mission.

This trust stemmed from Voldemort's arrogance, a trait that bordered on conceit, which would only grow more arrogant after he learned of Nietzsche's death.

“Now, it’s your turn to go back and report to Voldemort.” Nicholas kicked him hard and pointed his wand into the distance.

Peter Pettigrew's heart sank completely, as cold as the approaching autumn weather. He had thought that his death sentence would at worst be commuted to life imprisonment, but now it was just a suspended death sentence that could be reversed at any time.

Back when I was still a mouse in school, I could hear about the 'Third Generation Dark Lord', and now it seems that it really is true!

Chapter 355 Hermione thought he looked familiar

When school started in September, Nietzsche boarded a train with Professor Slughorn, and along the way they witnessed a reality where order had been restored and was better than ever before.

The wizards who had been forced to leave due to the war are now continuing their restoration work on the streets, while the Muggles, with their wealth of experience, are carrying out additional renovations...

“Those are all wizards? But I don’t remember there being so many wizards in England.” Slughorn observed the passing crowd with curiosity, his mouth agape in surprise.

When Slughorn turned to look at him, Nietzsche immediately frowned and put on a look of disgust.

"A poor imitation of a Muggle," he said, suppressing a laugh.

The two walked through the crowded King's Cross Station to Platform 9. Some Muggles were even curiously touching the wall, while others watched with interest as blushing young wizards disappeared one after another.

Slughorn walked aside, bewildered, and asked the detectives who were smoking and talking with several train station police officers.

"I said, what's going on here?" he said with a hint of complaint. "Those Muggles all saw it..."

“That’s normal.” The Ministry of Magic investigator, who had been somewhat impatient, turned around and looked him over a few more times before becoming respectful, as if he recognized him. “Professor Slughorn, this is Minister Fudge’s new decree.”

"Isn't this just reckless?"

Upon hearing this, Nietzsche noticed that the two Muggle policemen beside him frowned, their expressions clearly showing displeasure.

"Shh! Don't say that!" A patrolman from the reconnaissance team pulled the professor aside and whispered, "You don't have any prejudice against Muggles, and you actually support pure-bloodism, do you?"

Slughorn stared at him in surprise.

"How could I be prejudiced? I knew several Muggle-born students who were very talented. Sometimes these things happen... Just a few months ago, Dirk Claysway even gave me a gift."

"You mean, the director of the fairy liaison office?" The patrolman's eyes lit up with envy.

“That’s right!” Slughorn raised his head slightly and called out to Nietzsche triumphantly, “Vida, do you remember the Baileys you drank before? It was the one that student bought from a Muggle.”

Professor Slughorn is very self-interested, and self-interest means 'stability,' just like his students: regardless of their background, as long as they have talent and can bring benefits, they are good students.

He was like a spider, using his web to capture those plump students.

“But wasn’t that mysterious man… wasn’t he the one who murdered the Muggle prime minister? I saw it in the newspaper.” He muttered, turning his back to the person.

The Muggle opposite him relaxed and lowered his right hand from his waist.

They didn't seem to show much hatred, nor did they go far; instead, they shrugged as if indifferent, as if to say:

It's normal for a few people to die in war. I almost got hit by a mortar before... It doesn't matter. No matter which politician dies, we still have to live our lives. Let's just treat it as a normal change of leadership.

"Wait a minute, you said Fudge issued a new decree to cooperate with Muggles?" Nietzsche stepped forward and asked coldly.

"Actually, I heard from the people in the Auror Division next door that it's more about the new department's postponement... but that's normal, it's probably because those people in the new department want to consolidate their positions," the patrolman explained.

It's alright now. It turns out Hermione was behind it all. Nietzsche was relieved.