Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

The cushioning springs, combined with shock-absorbing elements, can even provide better shock absorption than the original...

Nietzsche then saw the future.

Then Ron, along with his two brothers, came over after questioning Theodore Nott of Slytherin.

“Hagrid! You never said you could do this!” George and Fred suddenly burst through the door, as if they had been eavesdropping for a while. “Come on, let me see your flying car. My dad never lets us touch it.”

"How many people still know?!" Hagrid looked at the three Weasley brothers as they entered, somewhat exasperated.

“That’s all. We’re here to help you.” Nietzsche recognized the man as George by the difference in the outer contour of his ears, and he shouted excitedly, “Let’s send those pure-blooded wizards to Azkaban!”

“Arthur won’t allow that, it…it’s against the law…”

“Not necessarily. Sometimes the law is just a tool of the pure blood." Hermione suddenly said something that seemed very out of character to Ron and the others. “Gathering evidence in secret is enough. You only have one chance.”

If Arthur uses the bugged recording as evidence, then even if the dark wizard involved in the case is arrested, the remaining wizards will be on guard.

They may very well be inspired by these small inventions to develop other preventative measures.

"Fred! Don't lose my parts!" Hagrid stopped the Weasley twins, saying helplessly, "I'll help you, but I'll also tell Arthur about this, and you're not allowed to turn Muggle items into Dark Magic items."

Black magic items?

That thing is a complete waste of a wizard's talent!

Hagrid said he would tell Arthur the whole story, and Nietzsche didn't stop him, which was a good thing, especially since the magical listening device was originally intended for Arthur Weasley—the Ministry of Magic's 'Inspector General'.

Ron's father responded quickly, replying the very next day.

The letter read:

"I am aware of the Muggle's murder. I happen to be visiting Hogwarts this Saturday to discuss the matter with Dumbledore and to pay my respects to you all..."

Molly's nagging about Muggle items is driving me crazy, so please don't spread it around. I wasn't making magical items; I was just researching how Muggles can live without magic.

This is also a form of tacit agreement.

“Then let’s get started and get everything in Mr. Weasley’s hands by Saturday.”

Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table, smiling as she gave the order.

Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Search for Greatness and Freedom in Quirrell

There was more bad news for Harry before Saturday: Snape became the Quidditch referee.

So now, because of Quidditch training, he has even less time to spend with his friends. In the past, Ron would have been annoyed by this, but now he has found something to do—helping George and Fred out.

After Nietzsche returned to school, he naturally had to attend Quirrell's tutoring class not long afterward.

"Professor, how's the Christmas present?" Nietzsche asked eagerly as he entered the office.

“I’m very satisfied, you’ve put in the effort…” Quirrell spread his arms to the sides, revealing his wrists. “For this, I… I even changed into a new set of clothes, the sleeves of which are shorter than ordinary wizard robes.”

He wore an exquisite watch on his left wrist.

Mechanical watches, therefore, are not affected by wizards' magic and do not need any extra decorations. Just by looking at the working gears underneath through the skeletonized dial, one can discover the most simple mechanical beauty.

“I don’t think wizards… know the capabilities of Muggles. They can control a part to the size of a hair, and the precision of each… each gear is so perfect.” Quirrell chuckled. “At least I won’t be late for work.”

This cold, orderly, rational beauty is well-suited to a Ravenclaw like Quirrell.

As for the price... Nietzsche himself didn't know; he had Mycroft casually bring it from the Diogenes Club, only saying he wanted to give it to a professor.

“Ordinary people don’t have magic, so they dedicate their entire lives to one profession,” Nietzsche said meaningfully. “Because they are not controlled by their own hearts, they are free.”

Quirrell gazed wistfully at the sky outside the window, seemingly moved.

Freedom, which means being out of control, is a very expensive thing for Quirinas.

Now his master, Voldemort, doesn't even have the strength to talk to people in person. He can only stay in this body and manage everything through commands and mental supervision.

"Then... how can a wizard gain his freedom?" Quirrell asked wistfully.

Or rather, how can he escape this hopeless situation, being controlled by Voldemort because he wants respect, and wanting to regain his freedom because of the answers that have always been at his fingertips?

But he had to maintain his composure...

“Wizards have always been free; they just choose to close their eyes,” Nietzsche said in a tentative tone. “Look! Look at our research; this is powerful proof!”

What black magic?

Standard spells act directly on objects, and it is this principle that makes them so convenient.

"Oh?" Quirrell said with interest, "Another branch besides black magic?"

Nietzsche never fought a battle unprepared; he confidently stated:

"I finished reading 'The Most Poisonous Magic.' The core of black magic is that we wizards need to transmit malice to others... We want people to die, we want people to be controlled by us, we want people to be stung by wasps."

"But what truly embodies the essence of magic is the standard spell—we use magic to create light and heat, we use magic to move objects elsewhere... It is magic that makes us wizards, not emotions."

The most difficult magic to learn today is Transfiguration.

Because it involves the wizard's imagination and perception of things, what prevents the transformation spell from being further improved is the wizard himself, not the subject itself.

“It’s like… what if I strike first?” Nietzsche’s hand trembled as he pulled out his wand and used a strangulation spell to twist Quirrell’s arm. “I don’t need to transmit malicious magic to you.”

He only needs his magic to act directly on the target.

Direct and straightforward, this is what Nietzsche concluded from several battles: some curses and poisons actually need to be struck... strangulation does not, because magic exists in all things.

"Not...not bad...a good idea." Quirrell snapped his fingers with his other hand, canceling out the magic acting on him.

“You see, that’s magic! It exists in everything!” Nietzsche casually summoned a quill pen. “The use of the Summoning Charm probably goes beyond just retrieving things, doesn’t it?”

Quirrell listened intently, his eyes fixed on the student before him.

Those quill pens, parchment paper, and ink bottles were like planets, slowly revolving around Nietzsche, each maintaining a relative distance.

“You remind me of…a professor I met while traveling, and Muggles called that…that course…” Quirrell stammered with a laugh, “Asteroid Dynamics.”

Accio is one of the oldest spells used by wizards.

When a Muggle's possessions suddenly fall out of reach, they can only be replaced or bought again, but a wizard can simply concentrate and make something he remembers fly to him.

"I'm sorry, I haven't studied astronomy yet," Nietzsche said awkwardly when he noticed the professor looking at him.

“If…if I remember correctly…we mentioned a word in that class—singularity.” Quirrell smiled. “From a Muggle’s perspective…we are…connecting the anchored object to the gravitational singularity of magic.”

There are still things Nietzsche didn't know.

Quirrell seemed quite pleased with his ideas and was showing off the knowledge he had gained with his age; as a Ravenclaw, he was too enthusiastic about every kind of fantasy about magic.

Of course, this is only from a Muggle's perspective.

And magic is indeed as Nietzsche said—it is formless, without a fixed shape or volume.

That afternoon, Nietzsche was given a lesson on asteroid dynamics by a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. It sounded so...no wonder Quirrell was ostracized by other wizards when he was young.

A genius who transcended his time was perfectly embodied in him.

"Professor, what is your ideal?" Nietzsche asked, looking at the professor who was radiant but looked weak.

Nietzsche would never allow Quirrell to disappear, a wizard who defies the unspoken rules of wizarding society and is willing to listen to the voices of the outside world, just to satisfy the selfish desires of the dark wizard behind the scenes.

But he alone is not enough.

“I’m the kind of person who doesn’t…don’t have any grand ideals, I just want to be able to make my own decisions and walk my own path.” Quirrell coughed twice, lowered his head, and blinked his slightly moist eyes.

He wanted to make a choice, to become what Nietzsche called a free wizard.

No one can control him; he doesn't want to live in constant fear.

Anyone...

“No, Professor, that’s a great ideal.” Nietzsche took a sip of black tea and clenched his stiff fingers. “No one can force us to do anything; every step we take is our own choice.”

Quirrell looked up in surprise, and a plan began to take shape in his mind.

Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Honest Man of the Weasley Family

It was strange that after Christmas, Snape didn't force Nietzsche to learn how to refine potions.

The only time I called him over was on a Saturday night.

Perhaps because Slytherin suddenly lost a 'good' Chaser, Snape's face became even more sour;

After all, other teams, Vice Principal McGonagall, and Mrs. Hodge publicly stated Marcus Flint's various misdeeds on the field, which forced Snape to temporarily substitute Marcus under pressure.

But... what does this have to do with Nietzsche?

"Professor, how is your Christmas holiday? Do you have anyone to keep you company?" Nietzsche greeted him with a polite smile. "Smile, you see... Slytherin is a little closer to the House Cup."

The professor gritted his teeth, and the veins on his forehead bulged out.

Nietzsche was like a fly, sometimes observing the details on Snape's clothes on the left, sometimes circling to the right to greet passersby. People who didn't know Nietzsche might have thought that another Gryffindor had been caught by the old bat.

“I’m having a terrible time! Do you know why?” Snape reached out and pressed his hand on his shoulder.

He angrily bared his mouth full of yellow teeth, spittle flying from the tip of his tongue.

"Because of you! I should have known... Less than a year into the school year, and you've already been warned by the Ministry of Magic for using magic off-campus. And don't think I don't know that Flint's matter has something to do with you!"

“Professor, that’s a discussion among other colleges, it has nothing to do with me.” Nietzsche simply raised his wand, causing the venom to remain in front of him.

It doesn't matter?

If Snape didn't know him, he almost would have believed it.

It's unbelievable that a first-year student could split Slytherin in two, to such an extent that even the Headmaster couldn't stop him and could only barely stand in the middle.

And that Worrington guy, he actually dared to team up with three other Quidditch teams to put pressure on the Professor...

“You should be sorted into Gryffindor!” Snape gritted his teeth in anger. He couldn’t deduct points from his own students, so what could he do? After calming down, he continued, “Also, I’m warning you, don’t get too close to Quirrell.”

"That was my plan with Headmaster Dumbledore."

“Compare some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.” Snape scoffed, grabbing Nietzsche by the collar and shoving him down the stairs. “Hmph, the plan…”

The door to the principal's office on the eighth floor was not closed. As soon as Nietzsche reached the top of the tower, he heard several people talking in hushed tones.

One of them was a tall, thin, bespectacled, red-haired, balding middle-aged man. He appeared very reserved when facing Principal Dumbledore, even taking only a small sip of water.

The clothes were wrinkled and worn, indicating that the middle-aged man was not wealthy.