Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Since the wizarding world needs to be under unified management, Harry can work here in the future. He's clearly Auror material—then become the head of the Department of Law Enforcement, and finally the chairman... a meteoric rise!

The descendants of the original twelve Aurors—that title alone is impressive enough.

------

Monday morning.

Peter Pettigrew, who had just woken up, heard the sound of the iron gate being opened. He was then tied up with rope and dragged to the cafeteria by Tina, where he saw a much more lavish breakfast laid out in front of him than before.

Fresh milk, cheeseburgers, and fried cod that can only be eaten at Hogwarts.

These foods were made by the house-elf himself, not the scraps he usually rummages through the trash.

“Eat it, there’s no poison in it,” Nietzsche said, standing in front of him.

Today is the day Peter Pettigrew is about to embark on his journey, and it is also his last chance to shine. He knows nothing, but after hearing Nietzsche's promise, he takes big bites of the delicious and juicy grilled burger.

He was so hungry that even after he finished eating, he lingered, sucking on the meat sauce and breadcrumbs on his fingers.

Just as Peter was about to return to the prison, Nietzsche pointed to the door, indicating that they were going in the wrong direction.

"Where to?" Peter asked, bewildered.

"A place that will make you turn over a new leaf." Tina looked at him as if he were a pitiful insect.

The most powerful people in the wizarding world and heroes who had participated in the First Wizarding War walked on either side of Peter, escorting him through the Muggles lining the way to his pre-warmed police car, and then leading him to the high platform in the center of the square.

Nietzsche pushed open the door, allowing Peter to see the wizard and Muggle standing in the square... The Muggle was holding a camera, while the wizard was using a wand to control a paintbrush.

Fully armed stormtroopers stood on either side of the platform, while Mr. Samuel, former Chairman Kohauer with a very grim expression, and Tina sat in the middle seat.

Peter reluctantly walked up to the platform, and looking at the dense crowd below, he became extremely nervous, constantly glancing at Nietzsche sitting in the car.

"Today is a day when the Magical Congress upholds justice," Mr. Samuel proclaimed. "We are honored to have a group of wizards protecting us... Ladies and gentlemen, history will record this moment of justice."

This is a lie fabricated by Nietzsche, but it is full of good intentions.

This trial, which was open to the entire nation, would soon spread throughout the Americas and then the world. Through the collaboration of Nietzsche and Samuel, the Magical Congress preserved its last vestige of dignity while simultaneously tearing apart the Law of Secrecy.

Peter stood on the snow-dampened stone platform, gazing blankly at the gray sky.

“Then please carry it out, sir,” Samuel pressed. “If you find it too difficult, you can have Ms. Goldstein do it for you.”

"no need."

Under the watchful eyes of the stormtroopers, Samuel drew his wand and strode up behind Peter, who was still savoring the fried cod.

There was no use of the Muggle's 'Iron Wand,' no screams, and no bloody scenes.

"Avada Kedavra—"

A flash of green light appeared on the snowy camera lens. Before any of the Muggles could see what was happening, Peter collapsed to the ground. The medical examiner then examined him and pronounced him dead.

Christmas is over.

Chapter 407 Voldemort: The Advantage Lies With Me!

Bellatrix, Voldemort's most loyal servant, sacrificed his life in the battle for the Ministry of Magic. He temporarily split off a part of his soul to block the strange time magic. Although he survived, his fate was worse than death.

Looking at his frail body now, he realized for the first time that he could be so weak.

Voldemort sat in his decaying chair, his mind as dull and rusty as a spinning wheel. He had asked himself more than once: Why hadn't Peter Pettigrew summoned him yet? Had he betrayed him again?

“Narcissa…” he said weakly.

Lady Malfoy stood behind Voldemort, watching his frail body as she quietly drew her wand. But upon hearing his name, she quickly suppressed her thoughts and walked to the Dark Lord's side.

“Your son… as long as your son protects that golden cup, we will be invincible,” Voldemort reassured him.

The last Death Eater's mind sank; clearly, she had no way back.

Even if you cast a killing curse on the Dark Lord's back right now, what difference would it make? As long as the Horcruxes are still there, he will never die. And in order for Malfoy to leave England smoothly, Narcissa has already blocked any path of betrayal.

“Listen to your instructions.” She swayed for a moment, then prostrated herself beside the snake named Nagini.

"Has Dumbledore noticed anything amiss in the Forbidden Forest?" Voldemort stared at the spiral of hair forming at the top of Dumbledore's head, seemingly trying to discern the sincerity of the emotions within.

“No,” Narcissa said honestly with her eyes closed.

Very good, this is good news for Voldemort. Judging from the way he stroked Nagini's scales, his mood had finally eased a bit.

At the same time, even Narcissa could see his urgency...

"A perfect opportunity, shh—we must seize it." Voldemort lowered his voice nervously, as if someone he couldn't even see was eavesdropping nearby. "I will reclaim my power! It's in Dumbledore's hands!"

“Dumbledore?” Narcissa was puzzled.

"Quiet—I can feel someone watching me... Keep your voice down!" Voldemort angrily raised his wand, his bloodshot eyes blazing.

Narcissa has heard that there is a disease among Muggles called 'hypochondria', and this symptom can currently be seen in the Dark Lord:

He was always suspicious, as if the 'dead Nietzsche' had escaped from the clutches of death and was lurking in the shadows, always plotting to harm him. He was on edge, and sometimes he would frantically drink magic potions to prevent himself from falling asleep.

He's gone mad. If the Voldemort of the past still understood his purpose and retained a sliver of reason, he has now completely become a madman.

“Dumbledore won’t die. I’m going to storm Hogwarts before he’s resurrected…hehehe.” Voldemort stroked the crystal ball in his arms, his tone exactly like that of a miser. “The prophecy has already told me the answer.”

Magic flowed into the prophecy orb through the sharp, serpentine fingernails, filling it with blue light and several other colors that swirled within.

When Narcissa first saw the Dark Lord take out the Prophecy Orb, she curiously looked at the patterns inside, which formed the faces of several people and the most crucial symbol:

First came Harry Potter's death, followed by a wand, a black stone, and a piece of silver cloth.

The Deathly Hallows are key, representing 'escaping death' in the legend, and when they appear with the Deathly Hallows, they signify rebirth.

"To return from death...that's Dumbledore's secret," Voldemort said ominously. "He's not afraid of death? You've all been fooled. He's not afraid of death not because of any greatness, but because he has a way to escape it."

As he spoke greedily, he furtively turned his head to the side, then pulled up his loose sleeve to block the light emanating from the prophecy orb.

"You mean Potter will come back to life?" Narcissa only recognized a few faces that flashed by.

“Yes, yes…” Voldemort said smugly, “It is clear that Dumbledore has already prepared things for the future, so that he and Potter can escape Death’s invitation. That is why I ordered the Dark Legion to infiltrate the Forbidden Forest.”

Upon hearing the truth, Narcissa couldn't help but shiver. Just a moment ago, she felt a cool breeze blow through her wizard's robes onto her back.

Death, immortality, death... these things were simply beyond her comprehension.

The prophecy orb does not show what is bound to happen, but rather a decisive picture of the future. However, the more the prophecy is broken, the more it proves to be true. Voldemort firmly believed this, just as he did more than fifty years ago when he stormed Godric's Hollow.

“Bellatrix’s efforts have not been in vain, hehe.” Voldemort’s usually smooth face contorted with ecstasy.

The wizarding world thought the Dark Lord would hide or run away, but he didn't.

The boy who survived a great calamity, what kind of magic is there in love... The Dark Lord put the crystal ball away again, and with Nagini's help, he slowly stood up, his eyes looking towards the south of the Scottish Highlands.

------

Meanwhile, in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

“The Mysterios has obtained the prophecy orb, and the advantage we’ve worked so hard to build could vanish at any moment!” Snape paced anxiously back and forth in the room. “Only you and Trelawney know about the prophecy from back then… Albus, now is not the time to keep you in suspense.”

Professor Snape was so alarmed when he heard what had happened in the Forbidden Forest that he jumped up and down in a panic.

An army, an army of giants, vampires, werewolves and all sorts of other beasts, was almost at the gates of Hogwarts, but the great and powerful Headmaster Dumbledore said, "No rush."

"We need backup!" Snape slammed his fist on the table. "What are you afraid of? Don't you know how to do things without Holmes?!"

Dumbledore sipped his sour soda slowly as he fed Phoenix Fawkes under the Dean's deep, nagging voice.

After a while, the office gradually quieted down, and the other annoyed principals had already fled from the portrait. He then slowly straightened up.

“This is part of the plan,” Dumbledore said casually.

"This is... ha!" Snape laughed in exasperation, realizing he had wasted his breath. "You think you can make me believe you without reason just by imitating Sherlock Holmes's way of speaking?"

"In fact, these are exactly Holmes's words."

Snape's right hand twitched, and he nearly pulled his wand from his waist.

"If I remember correctly, it couldn't be that Muggle detective. Let me guess, it should be..."

“No need to guess, it was the youngest Holmes who said it.” Dumbledore scraped the water droplets that had condensed on the handle of his cup with his fingers, his blue eyes narrowing behind his half-moon lenses. “That’s all I can say.”

A silence immediately fell over the office.

Snape's legs buckled, and he staggered backward, only to be caught by a soft chair that appeared out of nowhere.

"You mean..." The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, then immediately returned to normal, "His dying words? He even foresaw what would happen now and in the future?"

“I can’t read minds, so why don’t you ask him in person tomorrow?” Dumbledore paused, then suddenly looked out the window. “Unfortunately, Severus, I have to go greet our guest.”

Fox, who was standing nearby, placed the wand in the principal's palm with his beak and let out a melodious chirp. Then he disappeared from the office in the form of flames.

Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived.

(PS: Typing by hand)

Chapter 408 A Just Gang Fight

How long does it take to get back to Hogwarts from Woolworth Building in New York?

For a normal wizard, the first step is to use the Portkey to return to the designated location of the Department of Transportation, and then go to King's Cross Station to take the Hogwarts Express to Hogsmeade Station.

What? You want it faster? No problem, then we'll skip the train journey and just Apparate to Hogsmeade Village, then enter Hogwarts through the secret passage.

Nietzsche... opened the door, closed the door, and went home.

Behind the door were Tina with a smile and Mr. Samuel, with whom she had just begun to make contact, while in front of the door was the lavishly decorated lobby and wine cabinet of the Slug Club.

"What would you like?" Ni muttered to himself, stroking his smooth chin with his fingers.

Back at school, he began to fantasize about what he could have for dinner with Hermione. To give meaning to this trip, perhaps he could prepare a 'Bermuda Rum Crushed Ice Cocktail' for their candlelight dinner.

Nietzsche seemed to have forgotten that this was Slughorn's office.

According to the normal procedure, he should go to the principal's office first, but... he glanced at the clock at two o'clock in the afternoon and shrugged casually.

Perhaps because he had wasted the entire Christmas holiday in France and the United States, Nietzsche felt that the sofa was unusually soft today, as if he were sinking into a pile of cotton, and any movement would make his body sink deeper and deeper... Sigh?

"The Upside Down Golden Bell!"

Just as Nietzsche realized something was wrong and tried to stand up to check, he found himself stuck to soft leather. Then his vision began to shift, and he was suspended from the ceiling with a picture of 'Merlin and Arthur'.

The room seemed to have been turned upside down; the original ceiling had become the sofa's floor.