Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Hermione looked around cautiously, and only after confirming that Mrs. Pince, the librarian, wasn't coming did she confidently draw her wand, clear her throat, and silently recite the spell several times before feeling reassured.

"Wingardium Leviosa~"

It was clearly the same kind of kraft paper, but she just tore it off the notebook herself and didn't touch it.

Hermione, undeterred, shook her wand again. The biggest improvement was that the piece of paper bounced... Yes, it bounced like a frog, leaping only two centimeters off the table.

If Nietzsche hadn't been watching him, he would have thought it was just a cold wind making him sway.

"Did I mispronounce the spell...? But I've never studied Latin before, so I don't know if the syllables are wrong..."

“A few more times,” Nietzsche sighed. “Don’t focus your energy on the incantation, but on—will!”

Hermione wasn't just worrying unnecessarily; she had a reason for it. Professor Flitwick had mentioned something in Charms class: a wizard mispronounced a syllable, causing the Levitation Charm to become the Buffalo Summoning Charm.

Therefore, Hermione's concerns were not entirely unfounded.

This also confirms Professor Quirrell's view of Muggle wizards, a view that seems even stronger in Hermione's case.

"Really?"

“But this isn’t a language lesson! And you didn’t mispronounce the spell… although you had a slight accent, that’s irrelevant! First and foremost, you need to affirm your own beliefs!”

"That must be related to accent..."

Hermione seemed to have entered a dead end; she still thought she was learning Latin.

“It’s your lack of self-confidence!” Nietzsche thought for a moment and said slowly, “You can’t just think about trying. There’s no such thing as trying. There’s only yes or no, just like you have to eat four meals a day.”

"It's three meals a day."

"For me, it also includes late-night snacks."

Although Nietzsche's words were crude, they roughly conveyed the same idea. Perhaps the remarkable thing about humans is their ability to adapt to certain environments, a point that is particularly evident in Hermione.

She needs to get used to this kind of thinking from wizards for the spell to work.

On her fourteenth attempt, and at Nietzsche's urging, Hermione impatiently recited the spell onto the parchment. With a little more force, she could pierce the paper with her wand.

But something happened that made Hermione suspicious—she saw the parchment floating precariously in the air, gradually bending over.

No, spells can't possibly go wrong...

Hermione suddenly lost interest in the book in her hand and said with displeasure, "Standard spells can only add a specific state to an object or creature, they can't transform it!"

The passage she recited was also known to Nietzsche—the beginning of "Standard Spells: Elementary".

Nietzsche stared blankly at the parchment folded diagonally, lost in thought. After a few minutes, he happily pulled a pencil from his pocket and began scribbling in the notebook, as if he were recording something.

"Tell me quickly, how did you do that! You did it, Hermione! Perfect!!"

"What do you mean, how did you do it? Didn't you tell me?"

“That’s not what I meant…” Nietzsche gestured wildly, as excited as if he had seen a rainbow in the night sky. “What were you thinking when you cast the spell? Quick!”

This was quite a stretch for Hermione; she had to put in a lot of effort to describe her state of mind at the time.

"It's just... annoying, since you keep pointing out that I'm not doing this right or that right."

But that wasn't enough for Nietzsche. He looked at the notes on the effects of emotions on outcomes, then suddenly looked up and stared intently into Hermione's chocolate-colored eyes.

Yes! He really annoyed Hermione!!

"So what were you thinking when you made it float?"

The girl blushed and stammered for a long time, unable to string together a complete sentence. But under Nietzsche's relentless questioning, she abandoned her last shred of pride.

"Stop asking! What do you mean by 'what I was thinking'? I just want to stuff it in your mouth... just like this!"

The draft paper was folded repeatedly into a hard lump, and then Hermione bent her wrist, pointed the tip of her wand at Nietzsche, and sent the paper ball smashing into his face.

Only then did Nietzsche realize the truth.

"I get it... Hermione! You're a genius!" He suddenly opened his arms and hugged the girl in front of him, muttering to himself, "So that's how it works, you have to use emotions to make associations first..."

Hermione couldn't understand why Nietzsche, who had gone to great lengths to teach her the Levitation Charm, was now thanking her instead.

Her cheeks flushed, and her breathing became erratic. The sudden way the other person thanked her momentarily robbed Hermione of her ability to think. All she could do now was wait quietly.

Huh? What's wrong with him?!

Five seconds later, Nietzsche got up satisfied and ran towards the library entrance, skipping and jumping.

"No shouting or running!" Mrs. Pince's angry shouts couldn't quiet Nietzsche's footsteps.

What just happened?

Hermione belatedly began to ponder Nietzsche's excitement.

He said he was a genius...hehe...did she just do something amazing?

Chapter Twenty-Six: Quirrell Opens a New Path

Today is such a relaxing day!

Unfortunately, as the bald-headed Quirrell watched the sunset, he put down his textbook and walked to the glass display case, intending to arrange his pressed flowers himself, when the office door was suddenly forced open.

"Professor? Professor!"

"Wait...it's all done." Quirrell hurriedly scrambled to his feet, only his head peeking out with an awkward smile.

He crouched down, rolled over, and put his headscarf back on almost simultaneously, all in one smooth motion, so Nietzsche only saw Quirrell suddenly pop his head out from behind the desk like a groundhog.

It's really rare; who would have thought that students would visit their office on a Saturday?

"Nietzsche, I...I remember today...I was supposed to take a break..."

"I succeeded... no, someone succeeded!" Nietzsche didn't steal Hermione's glory for himself. "My friend made a piece of paper float and even create a folding effect!!"

Upon hearing the good news, Quirrell's eyes lit up, and he slowly put his index finger to his lips.

"Keep your voice down, I...I have a bit of a headache." He moved his feet silently across the carpet, walked over to Nietzsche, and took the notebook that looked like scribbles.

Honestly, he really wanted Nietzsche to spend some time practicing his handwriting.

“No…unbelievable, this is a huge leap forward from standard spells…” Professor Quirrell stammered. “Could you tell me how your friend achieved that?”

But then again, were Nietzsche's friends more geniuses than Nietzsche himself?

Based on the successful cases in the current experimental process, it is possible, perhaps, for a Ravenclaw... He couldn't help but think of the college he used to be in.

"Given the unpredictable variable of 'emotions,' a wizard's subconscious thoughts may directly influence the effects of a spell. Perhaps the Levitation Charm can do more than just make things float."

"But I can't deeply experience emotions..."

Quirrell listened with great interest. Although Nietzsche's words revealed that the success of the experiment was entirely accidental, the fact that even one success out of countless experiments proved its feasibility.

What they need to do next is to analyze it in detail, like Nietzsche did, and increase the probability of success.

"No need to rush. Everyone's experience is different. When I was as young as you, I was already able to directly receive external stimuli, but that's not all good."

"You're already quite clever if you can figure out the logical relationship between magic, emotions, and consciousness in a short time."

“Really?” Nietzsche pursed his lips and said dismissively, “In fact, my father and my uncle always said I was stupid.”

Although he stutters, it is undeniable that if you listen carefully to what Professor Quirrell says, you will know that he is indeed a good teacher.

It just sounds a bit difficult...

Quirrell's attention was focused on the latest record, and he could only subtly comfort Nietzsche, telling him not to be too hasty in his emotions.

However, he remained silent about his student days.

"When you reach a certain point, you will be able to directly feel the external stimuli, and the manifestation of those stimuli will be your emotions... fear, hatred, jealousy... they are all good teachers."

"Couldn't you choose something more positive?" Nietzsche's lips twitched.

"Love? Protection?" Quirrell chuckled softly. "While I don't mean to look down on them, how many people truly understand that they are far less beneficial than negative emotions..."

Loving something requires paying a price of several years, or even decades.

Hatred, however, may only take a moment.

Quirrell thought for a moment. He couldn't recall anything unforgettable about himself, nor had he ever experienced love or being loved. If he really had to talk about something worth remembering, it would probably be Nietzsche, who was different from the other Slytherins.

This first-year student's passion for everything was something Quirrell could envy.

"By the way, Professor, do you have any good Dark Magic Defense Charms?"

"Don't bite off more than you can chew." Quirrell placed the notebook on the table and turned his back.

Nietzsche cleared his throat, somewhat embarrassed. He hesitated for a moment before saying, "No, no, no, I just want to learn some self-defense skills. I'm about to have a duel with someone."

The word "duel" is like a fishhook, hooking up deep-seated memories.

At this moment, the professor, who had turned his back, suddenly hunched his shoulders. When Nietzsche turned to face him, he found that Professor Quirrell was trembling all over, as if recalling some horrific traumatic event.

"Perhaps you should go find...find the Dean of Flitwick House..."

“But you’re the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor!” Nietzsche didn’t want to see Snape’s sour face.

“But I… but I can’t! No!” Quirrell swallowed hard and forced a smile. “I’m not very good at these things… to put it bluntly, it was Headmaster Dumbledore who insisted that I take this professorship.”

Clearly, this professor must have experienced a traumatic event, which led to extreme low self-esteem.

He was originally a professor of Muggle studies, so he became afraid of the courses he was now teaching and had no confidence in them. This made Nietzsche frown; he hated traumas that could cause a person's personality to change drastically.

The Quirinas Quirrell in front of me, a Ravenclaw graduate, should be creative, not utterly mediocre as he is now.

Thus, Nietzsche was, as the magic wand wood suggests, honest.

He looked at the trembling professor, who was making all sorts of excuses, and said sincerely, "But I thought you were more capable than that old bat Snape, because you were the one who helped me find the breakthrough in the spell."

"It was me... but I only gave you some advice..."

“Snape can’t even offer advice,” Nietzsche rolled his eyes.

Honesty is the greatest weapon. Quirrell asked himself, how much of his help to Nietzsche was genuine and how much was fake?

He probably can't tell the difference himself.