Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

The lights in the middle of the building shone through the glass, casting the radiance of the constellations onto the curved balcony next to the archives... if the wizards called the light on the balcony 'yang'.

“You see, this has nothing to do with me, especially not with the French Ministry of Magic.” Victor distanced himself from the matter completely and raised his left hand, saying, “I swear in the name of Joan of Arc.”

Nietzsche rolled his eyes, inwardly cursing the Frenchman's shamelessness.

Many wizards have been a part of Muggle history. Joan of Arc, like the Bulgarian wizards who protected their country during World War II, was also a witch who stood up... As for her fate, it's all written in the Muggle library.

“But you still did it anyway.” Nietzsche closed the chattering file and said with a cold, sidelong glance.

"That's why Dumbledore wouldn't let you discuss it," Victor replied meticulously.

“But you weren’t like this at first. I still prefer your rebellious self from the beginning,” Hermione said, tilting her head.

The French Minister of Magic was caught between the two of them. If he cried, he would look too pathetic; if he laughed, he would seem disrespectful. So he fidgeted and started shaking his leg.

A wizard who skillfully controls the flames, a wizard who can control half the hall with a wave of his hand, plus a Ukrainian iron-bellied man—no matter how you look at it, France couldn't afford to offend them, not to mention the heavily armed joint forces behind them.

Minister Victor was so angry he wanted to grind his teeth to dust: Fudge, Fudge, couldn't you just come over for a meeting?

In the blink of an eye, this Nietzsche-something-director stripped me bare, leaving me unable to even lie. This wasn't a negotiation; it was practically like having a magic wand pointed at my head.

"You're joking, Director Granger. We all know what house-elves are capable of..." he said, trying to evade the question.

As is well known, the Anti-Illusion Charm is the Ministry of Magic's best means of defending against foreign invasion, but this magic is useless against house-elves, not to mention the 'Iron Wand' invented by Muggles.

In short, it's very dangerous.

“Tell me the locations of these Ministries of Magic,” Nietzsche said, pointing to the stack of files, not wanting to waste any more words with him.

"This... huh?"

Viktor was completely baffled. He thought of more than a dozen ways to deal with the two men's anger, but he never expected to receive a remark that sounded like they were trying to recruit him.

"Scared? You think we're going to burn Paris down again?" Hermione gave him a puzzled look. "What are you thinking? Aren't the Muggles here more willing to cooperate with you? We're not wizard supremacists."

Nietzsche remained silent, engrossed in his own world, trying to decipher Mycroft's intentions:

His uncle clearly understood the whole story and analyzed the reasons, which is why he handed over an armed organization like the SHD (Strategic Homeland Bureau) to him... It's possible he's shirking responsibility and retiring early.

But the important thing is Hermione; Mycroft Holmes must have called out Dumbledore's name.

“No, no, no, I just don’t understand.” Victor hesitated, then continued after two minutes, “I’m worried that your public threats to the Ministry of Magic will escalate the conflict between wizards and Muggles, since not everyone is like you.”

“On the contrary, whether they are Muggles or Muggles, they will support us in doing so,” Nietzsche said.

"WWWWWhat?"

"It seems you don't understand at all. Don't forget how the French Ministry of Magic was established. It was established to prevent the tragedy of the 'Purgers' from happening again, to maintain order among wizards, not to isolate Muggles."

The other person's mind couldn't process it immediately, and they could only recall the history of the wizarding world.

The Ministry of Magic here originated from the French Revolution, while the Muggle Revolution was against religion and the king, and wizards were against the corresponding purgers. Therefore, wizards are moving in step with the world.

Minister Victor thought about it more and more and felt that something was wrong. It seemed to make sense, but he still felt that he hadn't done anything wrong.

"So what do you think is wrong with England?" Hermione asked menacingly.

He shook his head blankly.

"Then do exactly what your Ministry of Magic was established in the first place... We've already made a mess of things, do you expect the wizards to erase the memories of every Muggle in the world?"

That makes perfect sense, and Viktor agrees: the mess is already broken, so why bother with the damn Secrecy Act?

"You know what, the Speaker of Congress is planning to do just that. He wants to emulate Scamander's approach, using Thunderbirds with some potions to clean up one region at a time." Then he revealed an even more horrifying truth.

It's Newt Scamander again!

"A map flew here!" Nietzsche said coldly, snatching a world map that had flown out of an office and slapping it directly in his face. He then suggested, "Mark the locations of the Congress and the other Ministries of Magic."

Adhering to the principle of "the less trouble, the better," Victor did not hesitate to circle the Woolworth Building in downtown New York City with the quill pen in his pocket.

Just kidding... As a French wizard who was almost burned to the ground by the flames, Victor is already having a stress reaction.

Here's the thing: Nicolas Flamel had been using alchemy to help maintain France, but times had changed. Nietzsche and Hermione had stopped using the trick of destroying cities at the drop of a hat and had changed their strategy.

Viktor thought to himself, 'Just don't let this happen to me again, whatever.'

It was another peaceful day for Paris.

Chapter 394 Publicly Funded Trip

That's how it happened. Judging from that thick meeting record, Minister Victor was made the scapegoat for Fudge.

Although he already knew the whole story, Nietzsche still wanted to sigh a few times.

"I never thought Fudge would be able to find someone else to take the blame..." He grinned.

“Perhaps it was your uncle’s idea.” Hermione gave him a cold look and said sharply, “This was supposed to be Fudge being besieged, but Mr. Holmes clearly had his eye on those Muggles.”

"Just a friendly reminder, that's also your uncle."

Nietzsche followed behind the minister, secretly grinning at Hermione.

Under the tense gaze of the French wizards, the two led Smaug and Golden Dragon onto the elevator platform, quietly waiting for the tree roots that sprouted from the soil to connect and form a huge birdcage, enveloping them within.

"Would you like us to give you a ride?" Minister Victor took out a white handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Calming two ticking time bombs is no easy task, but thankfully they're not going to take extreme measures, which means they're not here to interrogate or punish.

Meanwhile, at Nietzsche's prompting, Victor also temporarily changed his strategy. He decided to follow the 'traditional' practice of the French Ministry of Magic: first observe how the Muggles do it, and then follow suit.

The Ministry of Magic emblem hung above the elevator, and the three lines of slogans below were so eye-catching.

“No need,” Nietzsche declined the offer. “We plan to hike to Beauxbatons and enjoy the scenery along the way.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow and said quickly, "Then you two have really worked hard. Couples as loving as you two so young remind me of the Le Maire couple. If possible, please allow me to send you a... congratulatory gift in advance."

He hesitated for a few seconds before deciding to wrap his selfish desires into a 'gift'.

Nietzsche and Hermione exchanged glances, thinking how wonderful this was, and praised Minister Victor's ambition.

“If you follow the southwest direction downhill, you will reach Beauxbatons in the Pyrenees Mountains. The French Ministry of Magic will cover all your expenses during the journey.” Victor quietly flicked a business card into the wooden cage.

As Minister of Magic, one always needs a little power, especially for a Frenchman who knows how to enjoy life.

The birdcage woven from branches began to rise, and only after the figures of the two fire dragons completely disappeared from the main hall did the wizards who had lingered there finally breathe a sigh of relief.

At this moment, the scout wizard who had been patrolling the sky stepped forward and approached the minister, who was having a brainstorming session.

“Why won’t you let us do it, sir? The alchemy left by Flamel is enough to withstand those flames,” he said, puzzled. “We still have an entire office full of Aurors who haven’t come out yet.”

He was using his position to excuse his colleagues who had been stopped, as if things would be different if the Aurors had handled it.

“Don’t forget their status. The British Ministry of Magic is no longer just a department within the wizarding world,” Victor said, stroking the ink stain on his cuff. “We have no say in this…”

All I can say is that we've been tricked by the British again.

"What about the Muggles?" the wizard asked tentatively.

“Play the emotional card, keep in touch… By Joan of Arc’s side, are we really going to break away from France? Don’t forget, our Paris was the main battlefield against Grindelwald.” Victor couldn’t hide the complex emotions he was expressing.

---------

The four paulownia trees surrounding the center of the square returned to their original state. At the hidden entrance, two fire dragons let out a reluctant hissing roar before flying into the sky and circling above the Saint-Germain Church.

Nietzsche and Hermione left Furstenberg Square and began strolling along Boulevard Haussmann.

"It's not a big loss, is it?" He said, deliberately provoking the audience by holding the Minister of Magic's postcard between two fingers.

"what?"

"The French trip you missed during your second-grade summer vacation..."

Despite the long time that had passed, Nietzsche not only remembered it very clearly, but also acted like a child trying to save face. However, Hermione found this stubbornness rather amusing.

She also reached out her arm in a fit of pique and hooked it around the other person's arm, bringing their shoulders together.

The centuries-old department stores surrounding Boulevard Haussmann were somewhat quiet in December, with the streetlights and bookstore signs adorned with colorful foam balls and mistletoe, and every few steps you could see young couples embracing beneath them.

Paris’s road network looks chaotic, with a main road that has been the main road since ancient times running through the city, while several tree-lined boulevards connect squares, train stations and other places on both sides.

"Creak---Creak---"

Two pairs of studded boots crunched on the snow, and looking ahead, one could see the Arc de Triomphe, the confluence of twelve main roads.

“It’s true that my parents came to France for tourism, so… do you think we’re different from my parents now?” Hermione said, clinging to his arm, her eyes narrowed, her tone threatening.

"Really?" Nietzsche sniffed, feigning doubt. "I was just comparing treatment."

"You're smart to know what's good for you, darling."

They turned a corner and wandered through a maze of narrow streets, soon spotting a blue statue of a woman in an opera dress behind a 19th-century residential building.

Perhaps sensing the magic, the statue began to beckon to the two of them.

“It seems this is the entrance to Diagon Alley in Paris,” Nietzsche said softly, stroking his chin. “The Pythia statue from 1870, so how do we get in?”

He glanced at the pedestrians on both sides and noticed that the Muggles did not disappear immediately after passing by the statue.

Immediately afterwards, Nietzsche and Hermione witnessed a truly wicked scene:

The ancient Greek priestess lifted her long skirt, which trailed beneath her like a stone stool, revealing an empty doorway. She rested her chin on her left hand, like an embarrassed young girl, while her right hand reached out towards the two men.

“Okay, I get it… but they didn’t have to add this process to ‘9?’.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

Passing through here, the surrounding residential buildings remained unchanged, only the ordinary people strolling on the street suddenly disappeared, just like the platform of King's Cross Station---arriving at a street stolen by wizards.

A dazzling array of French-style streets immediately came into view, surrounded by familiar magic shops, flying broom shops, and a whole host of cafes.

“It’s the headquarters of Elegant Clothing Store!” Hermione’s eyes lit up, and she headed straight for the largest wizard clothing shopping center, which occupied the width of three or four stores. “Hurry up, I don’t speak French.”

At the end of the hiding place, Nietzsche saw the hotel entrance facing the Eiffel Tower.

He rubbed his lower back, his expression turning serious—it seemed tonight would be exceptionally tough.

Chapter 395 Watson Faints

It wasn't until evening that Hermione emerged from the Elegant Wizarding Costumes Shopping Center, her face beaming with joy, while Nietzsche, following behind, had transformed into a Christmas tree—with bags of all sizes and colors hanging all over him.