Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Nietzsche stared at the teeth marks, lost in thought: 'So... I really was taken advantage of?'

Chapter 390 A Romantic Trip to Paris

This injury is nothing more than a minor, common wound for Hermione.

After drinking some soothing medicine and sprinkling some white sage essence on her, Nietzsche emerged from behind the screen, already wearing the navy blue trench coat from the previous night, showing no signs of having just experienced a frenzy.

He stretched, walked out of the Room of Requirement, and took out his wand in the deserted corridor on the eighth floor.

Next step...

"Phantom Appearance!"

Just like when they returned last night, the two, fully prepared, silently began their teleportation from Hogwarts. The surrounding corridors were stretched and twisted into thin lines, and after taking a step forward, they immediately appeared in the distant Hebrides Islands.

Nietzsche glanced around and saw that Smaug and Golden Iron Belly were still dozing off in the same spot.

The surrounding peacekeepers disappeared with his departure, the campfire went out, and white snowflakes settled on the black embers.

“Incredible! I guarantee no one in the world has ever been more comfortable with Apparition than you.” Hermione, now more lucid, could better appreciate Nietzsche’s difference in spatial magic compared to others. She asked curiously, “How did you do that?”

“Experience… my dear, the higher the level of knowledge, the more effective the magic.” Nietzsche said as he climbed onto Smaug’s tail.

In terms of comfort, riding my own fire dragon is still the most comfortable.

The morning sun pierced through the thin mist, illuminating the golden scales of the Ukrainian Ironbelly beside Hermione, making it shimmer like a statue sculpted from pure gold. The sword scars on its abdomen and wings added a touch of vicissitude to its appearance.

Smaug felt the pull of the rope and nodded down at the golden dragon from his high position.

Ni used her magic to gently guide the pressure on the other's head, and with the added pressure of the Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon King, it slowly lowered its head, put its limbs on the ground, and blinked its cloudy eyes at Hermione.

"What's wrong with its eyes?" Little McGonagall glared at Smaug reproachfully and said aggressively.

Perhaps because Nietzsche was riding on her, she, now the Black Dragon King, let out a pitiful, sharp roar, as if she were crying to her beloved.

“It was the fairies who did it.” Nietzsche turned to look, then asked in a questioning tone, “Can you keep up?”

He manipulated invisible magic, gently scratching the golden dragon's chin. The dragon slowly twisted its body and stomped on the ground in response, the resulting shockwave stirring up sand mixed with snowflakes.

It seems it's just injured, not too old to move.

The golden dragon couldn't see anything clearly, but it could still vaguely distinguish between 'wizards' and 'fairies,' as well as its companions (dragons). Combined with Nietzsche's previous help, it didn't resist Hermione...

To be honest, Hermione's size was no different from an insect in its eyes, and it wouldn't even feel her crawling on it.

Their massive size did not hinder their flight. The two fire dragons flew one after the other, skimming the surface of the sea, circling the Scottish Highlands southward. In an instant, the huge black shadow passed over the Isle of Man.

The immense impact and speed of flight left a dent in the sea wherever the fire dragons passed.

“Enjoy this honeymoon!” Nietzsche shouted, shielding himself from the splashing water. “You should feel lucky, because no other Sherlock Holmes will come to cause trouble!”

At least it won't be like Watson, whose promised bachelor party turned into a vicious Irish summit instead of a planned Paris honeymoon.

"Ha—" Hermione choked on seawater and stammered, "I hope so!"

Before crossing the Strait of Saint George, Smaug led the way, but after flying into France from the Bay of Biscay, they began to slow down, gradually ascending into the clouds, and Hermione and the golden dragon took over as leaders.

“Ferstenberg Place is in Paris…we have to head north!” Hermione shouted from the air. “Why don’t we just come across the English Channel!”

The English Channel is the shipping route between France and Britain, so this was quite a roundabout way for them.

“Because the routes there are controlled by private companies! We’re easily spotted!” Nietzsche complained.

As if on cue, their wish came true. Shortly after they entered the Loire Valley and continued their journey toward central France, a black dot suddenly appeared on the left side of a civilian aircraft, gradually growing larger—it was a male wizard riding a flying broomstick.

The other person's short hair was blown about like a madman by the wind, and he shouted in French at Ni, who was lagging behind, "Stop!"

"Can you speak English? Old sport~ (an English aristocrat's way of saying 'old friend')" Nietzsche tilted his ear, indicating that he couldn't hear, and shouted back loudly in French.

“Damn it… you damned Englishmen…” The wizard glared and cursed a few times in French, then gripped his flying broom and rode up to Smaug’s tail, stammering in English, “You’ve entered the country illegally!”

The airflow generated by the Norwegian Spinosaurus's wings caused its flying broom to wobble a few times, almost causing it to fall due to loss of balance.

Nietzsche drew his wand and stroked the softest scales of the two dragons, causing them to spread their wings, which were several meters long, and slow down, thus achieving the effect of gliding above the clouds.

“We’ve come here to find you!” Nietzsche shouted.

"Who? Us?" the wizard frowned and cursed. "You can't ride dragons either... Now, you've violated the Secrets Act, the National Magical Ministries Act, and the Magical Creatures Protection Act."

"That's your law, not ours! The laws of the British Ministry of Magic have long been changed!"

Hearing this, the Frenchman became even more furious. He had just taken out his wand to carry out the deed when Smaug immediately noticed his movement and stared at him with his fierce orange-red vertical pupils.

Playing around is one thing, but if Smaug were truly weak, her Norwegian Ridgeback wouldn't be able to dominate the Black Dragon herd.

"Damn the British... They've been backstabbing us for ages, and they're still doing it now!" The wizard was so enraged that he couldn't speak coherently, mixing two languages ​​in one sentence.

Nietzsche flicked his wand, and a wallet flew out from his collar, hovering in front of him. Then, the wallet automatically opened, revealing a series of interconnected documents:

Director of the British National Strategy Bureau, interim head of CI6, advisor to the British Ministry of Magic...

I can’t finish it, I can’t finish it at all.

The Frenchman, refusing to believe in such things, piloted his flying broomstick and, after moving slightly away from the fire dragon, pulled out his wand, which glowed white, and scanned the documents several times. Unfortunately, there was no trace of disguise—they were all genuine.

“Alright…” He handed the wallet back, pointed at the dragon, and continued, “I can take you there, but they can’t be seen by Muggles! I don’t care what’s going on in Britain now, at least we still recognize the Secret Service Act!”

“Okay, okay, for the glory of France~” Nietzsche made a face at Hermione.

Upon seeing the spire of the Eiffel Tower, he slowly used his wand to carve a Muggle Confusion Charm onto his scarred armor, and then, led by the French, landed in Furstenberg Place.

When they looked down, the ground below was crowded with Muggles, but when they landed, the Muggles suddenly disappeared, leaving only bare streetlights and trees standing around.

Nietzsche stared uneasy at the empty Rue Philippe and Rue Montmorency; it was too eerie.

“Welcome to the Alchemy Capital, gentlemen.” The French wizard, seeing the wariness in his eyes, said smugly, “Although this is not the birthplace of alchemy, it is the place where the history of alchemy has reached its zenith.”

“Alright, alright, we all know you have a Nick Flamel,” Hermione said, jumping off the golden dragon.

"Hmph... typical British nouveau riche." The other person glanced at her fire dragon with a sour look.

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P.S.: Huh? If I remember correctly, in the ending of *Sherlock Holmes*, Watson and Mary planned to go back to Paris to make up for their missed honeymoon, hehe.

Also, thank you all for the generous donations and votes (although I don't know what the recommendation votes and monthly votes are for, thank you anyway).

Chapter 391 The Ruins of Nicolas Flamel

A barrier created through alchemy?

I don't know... because Nietzsche had never heard of this alchemical technique in the Hogwarts library or the Department of Mysteries of the Ministry of Magic. He could only speculate that it was some kind of privately passed-down technique used to maintain the Statute of Secrets.

Judging from the initial cacophony of voices, it was certainly not an illusion, a point Nietzsche could be quite confident of.

"Spatial magic?" he asked, standing beside the fire dragon.

After they landed, the two fire dragons had occupied about two-thirds of the square, and the member of the French Ministry of Magic felt an instinctive fear of the enormous thing.

Smaug was very sensitive to new environments; she lay prostrate beside Nietzsche, keeping watch for any movements around them.

“You do have some insight,” the French wizard said. “Nico Lemaître once used alchemy to connect the streets of Paris. Whenever a wizard enters a certain area, he will be automatically pulled into the nearby wizarding community.”

"And then it was almost burned down by a blazing fire?" Nietzsche connected Paris with Grindelwald.

Well... there's nothing we can do about it. He knows too much. Luckily, Dumbledore can't bring himself to kill him to cover it up.

"It was built after that accident, and Nicolas Lemaître doesn't want another incident that nearly wiped out the city," the French wizard explained hastily, as if his sore spot had been hit.

“So, it also served to protect Muggles.” Nietzsche exchanged a subtle glance with Hermione.

In a sense, Grindelwald's First Wizarding War actually propelled the development of the wizarding world, much like how World War II led to the widespread adoption of mechanized warfare after World War I.

Since it was designed to prevent accidents during the First Wizarding War, it certainly wasn't as simple as a Confusion Charm.

Grindelwald was German... Nietzsche suddenly thought of an epic poem written in High German, called the Iliad, and the entrance to the French Ministry of Magic was taken from the 'Nibelungenlied'.

"So, at least Paris won't be threatened by fire anymore?" he joked with a smile.

"Nobody does that anymore...cough cough!"

The French wizard coughed loudly a few times, and then the roots of the surrounding trees began to be uprooted, emerging from the cracks in the ancient stone bricks, eventually forming a huge birdcage elevator that covered the shrunken fire dragon.

Nietzsche did not answer, but just looked at him with a smile, trying to get some knowledge about alchemy.

"You wouldn't really do that, would you?" The French wizard's expression gradually stiffened, and he awkwardly forced a smile.

“Hmm---” he said ambiguously, “Maybe? I mean, if there were an alchemy technique that could withstand enough flames to destroy a city, there would be no point in me doing this.”

The French wizard's smile vanished, a chill creeping into his heart. His intuition told him it was best not to speculate.

As the elevator descends, a maddening hostility swirls between wizards from two different countries with different laws. Hermione hates the conservative ideas of the Secret Service Act, while the Frenchman suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder.

In the end, Nietzsche was willing to be the bravest person, and he broke the silence in the birdcage of the tree branch.

"I am here for the school exchange meeting hosted by Headmaster Dumbledore. I understand this is quite sudden, but I hope the French Minister of Magic will extend an invitation to Mrs. Maxime." He quickly explained his purpose.

But the French wizard's expression turned strange, and he did not show the expected surprise at this matter.

“This matter will probably require you to speak with the minister in person, and this… um… director.” The other party hesitated about Nietzsche’s age, and finally chose a form of address that was not offensive.

Nietzsche pondered for a while, weighing the general course of events in his mind:

'Headmaster Dumbledore has already spoken to Mrs. Maxime through Hagrid, and the French Ministry of Magic is also aware of this, which means that Beauxbatons was obstructed by the Ministry of Magic's International Cooperation Division.'

According to previous conversations, the obstacle stemmed from the recent trend of joint operations in Britain.

Not to mention moving Hogwarts students to Beauxbatons, tsk tsk... the French Ministry of Magic will probably have another headache when school starts next year.

Hermione couldn’t deny that the Ministry of Magic’s floors were much more beautiful than those in England. She was observing the brightly lit, intricately carved floors through the patterns woven from tree branches.

"Boom---"

When they reached the bottom, the surrounding branches automatically retracted upwards and burrowed back into the soil beside the wall.

The main hall of the Ministry of Magic is a huge dome, with a deep blue ceiling that resembles a night sky, painted with bright blue constellation patterns as light sources, while the walls are carved with tree branch-like symbols.

“If they were centaurs, they would definitely love this place,” Hermione remarked, praising the extinction site.

“Minister Victor!” The wizard walked towards the Ministry of Magic emblem in the center of the main hall.