Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Just as the principal was about to reach out, Nietzsche pressed his hand down, like a child protecting a beloved toy.

Hermione was used to him doing this. She glanced around at the people around her and didn't bother to get up and remind Nietzsche. She decided to just quietly enjoy the warm fireplace and sweet butterbeer.

"Mr. Holmes!" Professor McGonagall thought of the same thing as Snape.

What if this kid doesn't understand one day and points a gun at his classmate?

“My two fathers are detectives, so I can help you find the murderer, but this gun with only three bullets left is for me to use for self-defense... I promise you, I will never point it at my classmates.”

Snape found his words somewhat amusing, but looking at Nietzsche's serious expression, he slowly realized that the other man truly thought so.

"A...student? Helping us?" He let out a few chilling laughs. "This isn't a Muggle world, and it's none of your business!"

But Nietzsche's attitude was very affirmative.

“Ordinary people already have a Sherlock Holmes, but not here. Headmaster Dumbledore, when the murderer tries to use innocent lives to achieve his goal, even disregarding the lives of students, it already involves me.”

"I can find the murderer beforehand, and even prevent a similar incident from happening again! Do you really have to see a student die right in front of you before you feel remorse?!"

And Dumbledore understood the meaning of these words—either openly grant him the identity of a detective, or Nietzsche should investigate secretly himself.

His idea was actually quite reasonable. Anyone would be curious about something like this, especially people like Nietzsche and Harry. The process of finding the truth was not important; what mattered was the sense of accomplishment at the end.

Nietzsche simply put his words out in the open.

Honesty, integrity, and uprightness...

"Wait a minute, you're not really considering it, are you?" Snape noticed that the headmaster had withdrawn his hand.

Hermione and Professor McGonagall silently drank their butterbeers, leaning to the side as much as possible... McGonagall and Little McGonagall just wanted to get back to their studies and didn't want any more work added to their schedules.

Finally, Dumbledore gritted his teeth and made up his mind.

"Your weapon will not be aimed at your friends or classmates, but only at protecting yourself in the most dangerous moments... I believe in you because you have already proven yourself once, but you can only investigate in your spare time."

Hermione's tongue swirled around in her mouth, making her face puff out.

Surprisingly, Nietzsche's honesty did have some effect.

"I have one more small request."

Hermione rolled her eyes and buried her head even lower, as if she wanted to shove her whole head into the cup.

Don't say it's her, don't say it, don't say it, don't say it...

"Please speak, Mr. Holmes of Hogwarts." Dumbledore seemed to have figured something out, casting aside all his previous worries and doubts. "I hope your request is really small."

Hermione's idea was good, but that's Murphy's Law!

Anything that can happen will happen!

“A compatible assistant, I think Miss Granger would be perfect.” Nietzsche ignored the complaint in the girl’s eyes.

However, it wasn't impossible; Dumbledore learned about Hermione Granger through several professors.

Intelligent, quick-witted, Muggle-born with no magical background, and extremely disciplined in class and school, he enjoys helping others... He's practically the perfect Gryffindor.

He was astonished, as if a serious criminal had voluntarily clasped his hands together and asked the police to handcuff him.

"No problem, but you'll have to hand over your sidearm to her for safekeeping."

Nietzsche placed Colt on Hermione's lap, while she merely gritted her teeth and stared intently at him.

But who would understand poor Hermione Granger?

Yes, there was some. At least Professor McGonagall could empathize. She could only place her hand on Hermione's head again and scratch it... Hmm? After getting used to it, the fluffy feel was actually quite nice.

"Now, let me tell you the whole story and the details."

Chapter 41 Classic Combinations

The situation has reversed.

In the office now, sitting in a row with Principal Dumbledore are the two deans. The three of them, along with Nietzsche and Hermione, are looking at each other across a table. The only thing that hasn't changed is the five beer mugs that never run out of empty glass.

"Think about it, why would a magic school that is dedicated to learning specifically emphasize the room at the end of the fourth-floor corridor? This has never happened before, and it is obviously related to the Gringotts theft."

Nietzsche didn't expose Harry and Ron; it was his duty as a friend.

He himself did not have the habit of going out at night, so he naturally connected them with certain special plots, and did not even need Sherlock's basic deductive method.

“These two things are completely unrelated,” Snape said coldly, stubbornly standing by.

"The Gringotts manager said the thieves went to an empty vault. Apparently, someone didn't expect the owner to have taken the money beforehand. As a result, there's now a forbidden room in the castle this year. What did Headmaster Dumbledore say before the start of the school year?"

Now it's Nietzsche Holmes's assistant, Hermione Granger,'s turn to add to the discussion.

"If you don't want a terrible death or injury, don't go near that..."

“Ah, how could a school have such a place? Doesn’t Headmaster Dumbledore really worry about curious onlookers?” Nietzsche snapped his fingers. “No one would deliberately stand where gold is buried and shout, ‘There’s nothing here.’”

The words spoken by the two in concert convinced Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.

The principal adjusted his half-moon shaped glasses and said softly, "Just as you said, that is indeed where the vault treasures are stored. It's just that I made that room in a hurry, since I haven't found a good place to hide them yet."

"What's hidden there?" Hermione asked curiously.

"My friend's belongings were probably targeted by someone with ulterior motives."

Therefore, we can conclude that Principal Dumbledore's friends are very wealthy, and the friends he makes are unlikely to be of low quality, otherwise he wouldn't have been targeted.

Nietzsche turned his head and pressed his lips to Hermione's ear, seemingly forgetting that they were in front of the deans and the headmaster.

Have there been any recent reports of wizarding celebrities passing away?

"No..." Hermione felt her ears getting hot and leaned slightly to the side.

The fog is now even thicker.

The alchemical gadgets on the table were steaming and making a 'popping' sound. Nietzsche turned his gaze back to the headmaster, and their two pairs of gray-blue eyes met, though one of them was slightly cloudy.

"And I don't plan to move it; I just need to wait quietly for the thief to make another mistake."

Headmaster Dumbledore didn't intend to reveal too much about what the treasure was, so all Nietzsche and the others knew was that the thieves wanted to steal something and were willing to go to any lengths to steal it from the school.

Hermione began to consider things—Hogwarts, as a magic school, couldn't easily let outsiders in.

So the scope has been narrowed down again.

"Also, we have new information regarding some dark wizards in the Muggle world, and I think your father might need this information..."

As soon as he finished speaking, Headmaster Snape immediately chimed in, looking extremely reluctant.

“I found out what was found in your house last time. It’s the raw material for undetectable poison and throat gas. I tried it and found that a dark wizard had combined the two poisons together.”

The professor's voice was completely flat, cold and emotionless like a machine.

Undetectable poisons are those that cannot be detected, leave no trace, and can be completely absorbed, like ricin, which must be taken orally, inhaled, or injected, and cannot be detected by magic even by wizards.

Chokehold gas, on the other hand, causes the inhaler to suffocate and is colorless.

"He's a genius at poisons, making undetectable poisons colorless, gaseous... and able to be directly absorbed through human skin!"

"Cough cough."

Hearing Snape getting more and more excited about potions, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and pulled him back. They were talking about serious matters now, and nobody wanted to hear you praising how genius a poisoner was.

Tonight has been full of surprises...

After a brief chat, Nietzsche made a final promise to Hermione in front of the professors, handing the gun and all, before they were asked to leave.

McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed her trouser legs back and forth with both hands.

"How could you agree to that?" Sometimes, she and Snape really wanted to open Dumbledore's head and see what was inside.

“Isn’t this a good thing? We need him.” Dumbledore looked as if he had aged several years, his expression dejected. “I don’t want to make the same mistake again. This is an opportunity… Severus, he has something you don’t.”

These words seemed to remind Snape of some unbearable past, and his eyes filled with hatred.

The coldness was just to mask the anger in his heart, but now he couldn't suppress it at all, or rather, he didn't want to be rational with Dumbledore at all, and didn't want to give him even the slightest bit of respect.

"If you have what you have now, I could have had it back then too!"

"Severus, calm down!"

In Snape's eyes, the person sitting there was not a high and mighty wizard, but a shameless old man.

But Dumbledore stopped McGonagall, preferring to take the role... because he knew that someone who climbs to the top of a mountain cannot see those climbing below, which could lead to many irreparable mistakes.

"Feel sorry..."

"You'd better feel sorry." Snape limped and slammed the door shut as he left.

The next day, Hermione and Nietzsche's story spread again. It's worth noting that the descriptions of adult trolls in the books are quite astonishing; for example, an adult troll is enough to destroy an unsuspecting village.

Therefore, the two of them were depicted as wizards with extraordinary skills.

Furthermore, the three loud noises that Harry made were interpreted by Slytherin as some kind of dark magic.

“War magic…it must be this,” Miles Blaitch boasted loudly. “However, that bumpkin Weasley told Potter it must be some kind of lightning-fast war magic.”

Nietzsche, who was eating breakfast nearby, was too lazy to argue.

War magic?

That's not wrong, it's just Muggle's 'war magic'.

Draco, however, didn't believe any of this. He was determined to destroy Nietzsche's prestige in Slytherin, so he told them, "Impossible! He's just a... uh... Muggle wizard. I didn't see him use it on the day of the duel!"

But they didn't care about any of that.

What right does a loser who fought against senior students have to say these things? They only want to hear what they want to hear.

Daphne was standing opposite Nietzsche, but he completely ignored the prettiest girl in Slytherin's first year, crossing his legs like a retired old man and tearing aside the Daily Prophet to block the two of them.

"You really know ancient magic?"

Nietzsche did not reply; his only action was to take a sip of hot black tea.

"Hey! Where did you learn war magic from?!"

“Are you pure-blooded people who marry close relatives really out of your minds?” Nietzsche pulled the newspaper down, revealing only a pair of blue-gray eyes. “If I really were, Marcus would be lying in a hospital bed that day.”

People are just listening to it for fun, why are some people taking it seriously?

“I’m really curious how a first-year student could kill an adult mountain troll.” She blinked and brushed a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear.