Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Perhaps, black magic isn't the only shortcut...

“So that’s how it is. The connection between magic and thoughts is like this. No wonder…” Quirrell practiced the theory recorded in his notes several times. “It doesn’t require much destructive emotion. Just a slight pull is enough.”

After only a few failures, Quirrell used his memories to evoke emotions and completed the experiment.

"Lift it up... and lift it with more force..."

The wooden chair in front of him, meant for guests, floated in the air and was gradually crushed into pieces.

It's important to understand that control is extremely difficult throughout the process, and Quirrell felt that his wand perfectly compensated for this. He didn't need to deliberately distract himself; he only needed to focus his thoughts.

"Maybe that's not enough. Maybe I can add something to it." Quirrell excitedly jotted down the idea that popped into his head. "What if I applied a status effect to one of the target's parts?"

This is absolutely thrilling.

It was just like the first time he used dark magic to retaliate against a classmate who mocked him.

As long as it doesn't involve dark magic, the unicorn hair has absolutely no effect and is actually a help. He has never been so grateful that his wand is so stable, unlike the powerful Dragon Heartstring.

The next day, Wednesday, the school clinic was packed with people at noon.

Some of the Gryffindors came to visit their tutors, while another group of Slytherins came to visit Malfoy... That being said, the snacks and drinks were left by Nietzsche's bedside.

God knows how much Hermione suffered from holding back her laughter.

As they passed Nietzsche's bedside, they casually placed their cards and gifts beside him before empty-handed and beaming as they approached Malfoy and Pansy to offer their condolences.

"You know, I want to study at the Ministry of Magic someday and further my education," the little snake excitedly grabbed Malfoy's hand. "We're both Slytherin students!"

At first, Draco did enjoy their worship, but as time went on, seeing the food piled up beside Nietzsche's bed, he began to feel something was wrong.

No matter how you look at it, their handshakes with me seem like a mere formality...

"So why did you leave all your stuff with him?" Draco sniffed.

"Isn't he from Slytherin?" The little snakes looked at each other, then suddenly realized, "Is there any difference?"

"He... is... my duel opponent!!!"

But these first-year snakes didn't care about any of that; as Slytherins, they were naturally cunning.

"Hubble, should we take it back?" the little snake asked its companion as it shook hands with Malfoy.

“Idiot, there’s no such thing as giving something away and then taking it back…” Hubble cleared his throat and immediately explained, “Draco, we’ll give it to you again next time you’re hospitalized.”

Upon hearing these words, which sounded like a curse, Draco nearly lost his temper.

Of course, it'll be next time. Who cares about Malfoy? They're all here to meet this Nietzsche Holmes who's standing on the heads of purebloods, based on what Warrington relayed.

Those who had met Nietzsche did not linger; they simply chatted casually with Malfoy and left without looking back.

What a disgrace... truly a disgrace... When has the Malfoy family ever suffered such a humiliation?

"So, you really intend to keep that bet?" Pansy crossed her arms, glaring angrily at Hermione and Nietzsche. "We are the Holy Twenty-Eight Purebloods; we can never bow down to those things!"

"It's just him; I didn't say I'd keep quiet about it to anyone else..."

Even with this explanation, Malfoy was still very unhappy.

The sole heir of the Malfoy family, currently the most powerful family in the wizarding world, has to bow down to a Muggle wizard.

Nietzsche suddenly felt that the future of Slytherin would not be too peaceful, and hoped that Headmaster Snape could continue to be a good dueling referee, after all... once something happens, it will happen again.

Looking at those who were peeking at him, he thought to himself: Come on, hurry up and come learn some skills from me.

Slytherin was like the cold, dark lake, and he felt like the giant squid in it, except he wasn't so quiet and often stirred up a whirlpool in the lake.

Although Nietzsche couldn't leave the infirmary, he wasn't bored. Even when he was at his worst, he could do his homework with Hermione...

"Wait a minute, do we need to do homework at magic school?" Nietzsche became alert. "Isn't it just a matter of waving a wand and casting some spells we've learned...?"

Hermione tossed a stack of brown paper into his arms and grabbed some food.

"What are you dreaming about? The first week is just to help us get used to the new environment. Let me see... the 'Silver Needle Transfiguration Techniques' from Transfiguration class, and the 'Difference Between Standard Charms and Curses' from Charms class."

"Each paper must be at least two sheets of parchment paper, great! Finally, I have something to do!"

Neville, who brought her the homework, looked at Hermione as if he'd seen a ghost.

Nietzsche simply waved his hand; he was used to it. You see, Hermione used to be notoriously single-minded, and her passion for homework was so great that she would remind the teacher who forgot to assign it.

Of course, she could also have been deliberately reminding him as a way of retaliating against the classmate who isolated her?

Neville rummaged through his schoolbag and pulled out a glass ball that glowed faintly red. He immediately looked worried.

"what is this?"

Nietzsche waved his wand, moved the hospital bed he was on next to Hermione, and curiously leaned closer.

“The Memory Ball. My grandma gave me this because I’m always so forgetful. When it glows red, it means I’ve forgotten something.” But Neville just can’t remember what he’s forgotten.

He locked Leif out before leaving; all the homework was there... what else could it be?

"Perhaps you've forgotten what you learned in class."

“How is that possible…wait?” Neville’s face immediately fell. “But for me, it is possible.”

If that's the case, it's truly a comforting thing, since forgetting it doesn't guarantee you can get it back immediately.

Hermione was startled by him and hurriedly pushed Nietzsche away as he approached.

"What are you doing! Why...why did you push the beds together like this?!"

"Do your homework, are you planning to write three papers by yourself? The Defense Against the Dark Arts paper is 'What is the relationship between emotions and magic?' Believe me, you won't find a more complete one than my notebook."

Neville couldn't understand their argument, so he silently took two steps back, away from the scene.

"Do you think your notebook is better than the whole library?" Hermione pushed the other person's bed away in disgust. "Get out of here, I don't care."

She seemed to have forgotten how to use the spell, and just pretended to fiddle with it a few times.

The two beds were moved by the Levitation Charm, making them look like two blankets on one bed. Even at only eleven years old, Neville was able to discover the secrets of the 'Group Leader' and the 'Slytherin Viper'.

No wonder...no wonder Lavender and Parvati always asked him about Nietzsche.

Neville's eyes sharpened!

Chapter Thirty-Two: I Hate Flying Broomsticks

Thursday was an exciting day.

Of course, it wasn't just because their injuries were fully healed; it was mainly because of the last flight lesson in the afternoon.

As soon as it was 3:30, they rushed out of the Charms classroom, except for Nietzsche, who was deliberately slowing down, as if he had been hit by a hindrance spell while packing his bag.

"Flying lesson..." Professor Flitwick, annoyed by his slow pace, urged, "Aren't you going to touch the flying broom first?"

Nietzsche watched as the books automatically returned to their places, a grateful smile spreading across his face.

But when he turned around, his face immediately fell. To be honest, flying class was the most unacceptable thing for him. He would rather be caught by Snape in the basement right now and memorize "Advanced Potions Making".

Outside the castle walls, the grass rippled in the breeze on the flat ground, and they could see the dark trees and the stone cottage in the distance.

Nietzsche never stopped looking at the old broom on the ground with disgust.

"Alright, what are you waiting for?" After the Gryffindor students arrived, Mrs. Hooch, with her white hair, glared at them with her hawk-like yellow eyes and shouted sternly, "One broom each, hurry up!"

Slytherin and Gryffindor stood side by side.

So Nietzsche, the last to arrive in Slytherin, lives next door to Hermione, the first to arrive in Gryffindor.

Mrs. Hooch understood their eagerness to try, and during the first flight lesson, she wasted no time, swiftly walking up to the forty-five people.

“Stretch out your dominant hand, place it above the broom, and say: Arise! Be as steadfast as if you were holding a magic wand!”

Everyone did just that.

Malfoy was the fastest. He turned his head to look at both sides with a smug look and said, "Look, I already rode it before I came to school. It's too easy."

Then it was Harry's turn, and his broom immediately jumped from the ground into his hand.

However, only a few people can do it so easily. Most people, like Hermione and Neville, either just roll on the ground or don't move at all.

Apart from Nietzsche... he didn't even extend a hand.

“It’s rare to see something you don’t know.” Harry winked and grinned mischievously. “You won’t break this poor broom because it’s disobedient, will you?”

Seeing Nietzsche's indifference, Harry's smile slowly froze.

"Cough cough... You wouldn't really do that, would you...?"

“Of course not, do I look like a grumpy goldfish like Flint?” Nietzsche waved his right hand above the broom, then hid his left hand back inside his wizard’s robe. “I just… don’t really like dangerous things.”

"Danger?"

Hermione had never heard this word used to describe a flying broom before; it was utterly absurd.

“I hate things that move between your legs according to your heart,” he said indignantly. “It’s the 20th century now, why can’t we have flying carpets or flying bicycles?”

Just as a pure-blooded wizard mocks a Muggle's steam train, this Slytherin, as a Muggle, is looking down on a wizard's flying broomstick.

In fact, his riding skills have always been terrible.

He had fallen off the horse several times when Watson took him riding.

Upon hearing Nietzsche's rebuttal, the surrounding wizards lowered their heads and chuckled. Theodore Nott, the half-blood wizard closest to him on his left, leaned closer.

"Because flying brooms are a unique part of wizarding history, and also the least secret among Muggles. My mother is a Muggle, and when I was a child, many of the books she brought me included descriptions of flying brooms in wizarding stories."

However, this can also be considered a reminder.

For centuries, wizards have been too lax in protecting their secrets, leading to the long-standing association of brooms with magic among Muggles, which has even become a valid stereotype.

Malfoy wanted to make a sarcastic remark, but then he remembered his arm, which had been throbbing a few days earlier, and changed his target.

"Longbotton, look at you, you idiot! I hope you're still standing on the ground when we take off!"

"Stop daydreaming, child, stretch out your hand... You're quite good at this, aren't you?" Madame Hooch only began the next step of instruction after seeing the broom finally wobble into Nietzsche's hand.

However, Hermione heard him chanting the Levitation Charm.

"Cheating."

The professor walked back and forth three times before finally correcting the student's grip posture.

"Now get on and wait for my command!"