Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Most of them were students who had participated in the Goblet of Fire; they were all handsome wizards and witches. They lined up on both sides of the huge fountain, supporting Mrs. Maxim.

"Good day, respected headmaster." Nietzsche and Hermione bowed slightly.

At that moment, several fairies lifted crystal goblets filled with water from the fountain and placed them in the hands of two witches. When the two witches turned around and walked over with elegant cat-like steps, they realized that it was Fleur and her sister Gabrielle Delacour.

When Furong saw Nietzsche, she suddenly felt a discomfort in her throat, clearly thinking of some unpleasant experience.

However, she was overthinking it. Nietzsche did not feel any discomfort. The magic that Veela was born with was driven away by his blood oath with Hermione before it even touched him, saving him the trouble of using Occlumency.

"This is a magic fountain provided by Nick and his wife Perenall; it can heal wounds and beautify the skin," Mrs. Maxim explained.

Nietzsche took a sip of the spring water that was fed to him. It tasted cool with a slightly sweet aftertaste, but his body warmed up instead, and his overworked brain became much clearer.

Immediately afterwards, the Veela sisters waved their wands again, directing the blankets held by the others to be wrapped around them.

“I’m glad you didn’t lose control, wizard,” Fleur said, raising an eyebrow. “Looks like you’ve improved quite a bit lately…”

“Or maybe it’s because of me~” Hermione took a step forward, straightened her back, and glared at the other person, saying, “I don’t think Veela’s magic is a big deal. Obviously, your charm is nothing to -- my -- boyfriend.”

The only thing that hasn't changed is their strange relationship.

“Kid.” Hibiscus’s gaze shifted downwards, and she deliberately spoke sarcastically in French.

After she finished speaking, she turned back to the students. Although Hermione only had a superficial understanding of French and was still learning, she could still sense something was off from her tone.

"Did she just insult me?" Hermione tugged at Nietzsche's sleeve.

“No,” he said. “Miss Delacour wishes you eternal youth and is simply envious of your figure.”

Mrs. Maxim noticed this little squabble, and the headmaster, a half-giant, walked over to Nietzsche, exchanged a smile with him, and the banter between the two girls actually eased the serious atmosphere.

Judging from the accents of the other people chatting, there are also students from Spain, the Netherlands, Portugal, and other countries.

They settled the dragon by a stream below the mountains outside the garden, and then followed Lady Maxim into the castle.

From an artistic perspective, Beauxbatons Castle is dozens of times better than Hogwarts. There are no gloomy ancient medieval armors and solemn stone statues of soldiers. Instead, there are ice sculptures that never melt and forest fairies humming songs everywhere.

Inside the banquet hall, Nietzsche also saw several students who had finished their meal using magic to decorate ice sculptures into their preferred shapes.

"You're here because of the exchange meeting, right?" Mrs. Maxim sat in the middle of the teachers' section and gestured for them to sit opposite her. "I received some new information this morning."

The principal looked puzzled, as if he hadn't expected that something that had been previously blocked would suddenly be allowed to proceed.

She asked Hibiscus to get some hot soup from the kitchen, and then continued, "Now that you're here, you can set off with our carriage first thing tomorrow morning."

It was already 1:30, well past lunchtime, so Furong only brought out two bowls of steaming hot French fish soup.

Hermione took a sip of the delicious fish soup, which made her feel much better. She then picked up a baguette and soaked it in the thick soup until it softened. The sweetness of the wheat starch and the saltiness of the soup blended together perfectly, creating distinct layers of flavor.

"I'm afraid we won't be able to go back to Hogwarts together," she said apologetically.

"Why?" Furong stood aside, expressing her confusion on behalf of the principal.

Nietzsche's thigh was bumped by Hermione's knee, and the power of the conversation shifted to him.

"The root of this problem is not with the Ministry of Magic. Hermione and I need to go to the Magical Congress... Also, I hope that you will eventually exchange upperclassmen with lowerclassmen from Hogwarts."

Mrs. Maxim pondered his words for a moment, her brows furrowing deeper, adding more wrinkles to her made-up forehead.

Formal exchange events usually don't have this process. Typically, it's lower grades exchanging with lower grades, or like the Cup of Fire where higher grades compete against each other.

"Switching from lower grades to higher grades?" The principal raised his head slightly, gesturing for him to continue.

“This is not an exchange meeting, but a hunt for Voldemort,” Nietzsche said. “In layman’s terms, it’s about ‘calling for help.’ Headmaster Dumbledore needs you to bypass the Wizarding Union and help Hogwarts directly.”

Although Voldemort has not yet extended his reach into Britain, his influence remains, which has left the headmaster deep in thought.

He knew that Beauxbatons wasn't afraid like the English wizards, but rather concerned for the students' safety. Therefore, he wasn't in a hurry for the answer and savored the French cuisine while waiting.

Mrs. Maxim is a mixed-race giant, and if she can become the principal, she will definitely be more responsible for the students.

“I don’t understand… Don’t you have Muggles in England? Why doesn’t Dumbledore seek help from Muggles and the Ministry of Magic?” The headmaster slowly voiced his question after the bowl of fish soup was finished.

“Because this wasn’t Dumbledore’s idea.” Hermione rolled her eyes at Nietzsche.

"What do you mean?"

“Don’t panic, Headmaster, you can think of this as a show,” Nietzsche explained with a wry smile. “Voldemort is just an ant to Britain right now, but we need his death to unite the whole of Europe.”

If we consider the various departments of the UK as a 'neural network,' then Mycroft is the nerve node.

Nietzsche's current role is even more significant, elevating 'Britain' to the whole of Europe. Judging from his uncle's plan, having wizards from other countries assist him has greater political implications.

Through the actions of German and French wizards in Britain, they guided Muggles (sparrows, chickens) and the Ministry of Magic to become a 'community'.

“The purpose of the exchange is to protect the younger students while keeping Voldemort alerted, so we need you to select those older students who are strong in actual combat.” Nietzsche laid out the plan little by little.

I imagine Voldemort would be devastated if he broke through the Forbidden Forest, stormed into Hogwarts, and found himself surrounded by a bunch of warriors.

Just thinking about it makes it even more exciting.

"Does Karkaroff know about this?" Mrs. Maxim asked tentatively.

“You can just tell him directly. As for us… we probably don’t have the time,” Nietzsche said with a smile.

What if he refuses?

"No, Karkaroff would love to get rid of the 'Death Eater' label. He has no reason or right to refuse."

Chapter 399 Pre-Battle Troop Review

Although magic schools do not have substantial power, they are politically equivalent to the Ministry of Magic. The three schools respectively accept and send a large number of wizards to western, southern and central Europe.

Therefore, when Beauxbatons and Durmstrang provided aid to Britain, they gave the Muggles in the corresponding regions a plausible excuse.

This plan, which was practically a live broadcast of the European continent, could be described as 'hunting' by Voldemort, much like how nobles in ancient countries used hunting to build relationships.

Hogwarts is a huge 'hunting ground', and Voldemort is the hunted. It doesn't matter whether he is a rabbit or a tiger or leopard capable of killing the hunter. What matters is the honor that comes from killing him or participating in the killing.

"So you're saying we're just insignificant pawns?" Mrs. Maxim's words were sharp, like a precise scalpel.

“No, Principal, I prefer to call you part of the movement of the world.” Nietzsche rested his elbows on the table, his fingers interlaced under his chin. “No one is insignificant, not even an ant has its purpose.”

Hermione turned her head and looked into those intelligent blue eyes.

She had seen this pose on Dumbledore before, but not as gracefully as Nietzsche's, nor as clearly expressed, as if she were not afraid of what others might say, but only wanted to be accepted in a way that everyone liked.

Because Moriarty and Moran believed that the world could be created out of thin air, they ultimately lost to Nietzsche by a hair's breadth.

Because the Prime Minister, like the Wizard, disregarded the house-elves with the air of a superior, he was killed by them.

Hermione became increasingly captivated... In fact, she loved watching Neely use eloquent words to persuade others and handle the very kind of diplomacy she hated most with ease.

Nietzsche glanced at it quickly, setting the gears of his brain in motion:

'Beauxbatons, led by Mrs. Maxime, had many half-blood wizards and was very open in its rules, but this was controversial within the wizarding community, leading to a more conservative school ethos—for example, extreme respect for the headmaster and professors.'

The hybrid wizards mentioned here refer to wizards like Veela, who have the blood of magical creatures mixed with their own, not wizard blood.

Therefore, he quickly understood what Mrs. Maxim needed.

Nietzsche wiped his wand and said softly, "This exchange may make you seem like 'performers,' but after the performance, people will remember you, won't they?"

Answer: Other people's perspectives.

A half-giant headmaster, Veela students, a school with only seven hundred years of history... Beauxbatons is eager to change the world's perception of him.

"So... how many students do you need?" Mrs. Maxim stared at the blue eyes for a while, and finally let out a long sigh.

The headmaster nudged Fleur, saying that they no longer needed to worry, and Nietzsche and Hermione no longer needed to worry about Beauxbatons.

“Come with me,” Furong said without turning her head.

The layout of Beauxbatons' rooms differs from that of Hogwarts. Because of its vast size, the rooms are interconnected, allowing one to pass through the banquet hall and reach the study at the back via a passage next to a Christmas tree.

In this quiet room, it was hard not to notice that someone had come to visit. Some people looked up from their books and glanced at Furong's new friend.

"Ahem!" Nie cleared his throat forcefully, drawing attention back to the room before speaking, "In addition to the candidates for the Goblet of Fire last time, I would like to invite thirty more students who have achieved an 'O' in Defense Against the Dark Arts in the OWLs."

More than fifty students picked up their hands, their interest piqued by the mention of the 'Goblet of Fire'.

“Only for fourth grade and above,” Hermione added.

At least eleven junior wizards reluctantly withdrew their hands, but Nietzsche glanced over and noticed a slender arm raised behind several senior students, which shook vigorously as if afraid he hadn't seen it.

“Gabrielle!!” Fleur shouted angrily.

"Why? I want to participate too!" Gabrielle stood up like a spring, hands on her hips.

"This isn't a game. This exchange is far more dangerous than the Goblet of Fire." Hibiscus also told the others, "I hope you're all mentally prepared. The mortality rate might be lower than in the Goblet of Fire, but losing limbs is definitely possible."

Her younger sister pushed aside the upperclassmen blocking her way, suddenly rushed over, and started to act cute, hugging her arm.

“But when it came to the Goblet of Fire, Mrs. Maxim let me visit, didn’t she?” Gabrielle looked up at her sister with her bright eyes. “Besides, I’ll be a fourth grader next year, so I’m sure I can pass the OWLs exam.”

Nietzsche snapped his fingers, and an invisible hand made of magic grabbed her shoulder and lifted her to the back of the study, hanging her on a hook above the fireplace.

The precise control and manipulation of the essence of magic amazed Fleur.

“You have five chances. If you can touch your sister's clothes even once, you'll pass.” He pulled out his wand, smiling at them. “Of course, to be fair, you two get the same…”

This behavior angered the students, who knew that Nietzsche was just a guest from out of town, and what gave him the right to spout such nonsense here.

However, some clever wizards noticed Fleur standing slightly back against the doorframe and knew that things weren't as simple as Nietzsche had made them out to be, but they didn't want to see the headmaster's favorite junior being bullied.

"Does touching Hibiscus's clothes count?" a wizard asked.

“That’s right, and in any way,” Nietzsche said confidently. “Even a curse counts.”

There are more than fifty of us here!

"So what?"

Just as the wizards were taking Gabriel down from the hook, intending to teach him a lesson, Fleur suddenly interrupted them, seemingly intending to plead for him.

“Wait!” she hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Mr. Holmes, shouldn’t we at least give them a minute to prepare?”

It was a plea for leniency, but not for Nietzsche; it was a plea for leniency for students from his own school.

Chapter 400 I'm in a hurry, let's go together!

Distracted, the gears of his brain began to turn, and Nietzsche started analyzing every frame of the nearly fifty 'enemies' before him and the possible attacks that might follow:

First, judging from their posture, the student on the left will be the first to take out their wand, and will most likely use control magic such as the petrification charm or the stun charm.