Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Thinning hair indicates an irregular work schedule, suggesting that someone working in the Ministry of Magic would likely have a sparsely staffed or extremely busy position... Of course, it's also possible that they have both.

“Mr. Weasley?” Nietzsche blinked.

Arthur Weasley turned around and saw those grey-blue eyes looking somewhat lost in thought. When he realized Nietzsche's inquisitive gaze, he instinctively put his legs together and sat up straight like a student being checked on.

It wasn't until he saw Nietzsche's outstretched, childlike hand that he stepped forward and grasped it.

"Albus, what does this mean?" Arthur looked at Snape and Nietzsche standing in front of him, then turned around blankly.

"Regarding the case of the Dark Wizard, he's the one you're looking for." Dumbledore, hands in his pockets, tossed a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean into his mouth. "This is Arthur Weasley, temporarily representing the Ministry of Magic at the diplomatic event..."

But Arthur just slapped his thigh and rubbed it a few times.

“There’s no diplomacy involved… Minister Fudge just put me in this position temporarily because he sees I’m relatively friendly towards Muggles.” He looked up again and asked cautiously, “But why does this involve students?”

Dumbledore waited until Snape turned around and locked the office door before brushing the crumbs off his hands and adjusting his glasses.

The headmasters on the wall didn't dare to breathe, just kept pressing their ears against the edge of the picture frames, trying to hear some secret news... What kind of important matter could make the Ministry of Magic so cautious as to send someone to negotiate with Dumbledore first?

“Mr. Weasley, don’t you know what the dark wizard has done?” Nietzsche’s heart skipped a beat.

"What did I do... I know I killed a few Muggles..." Arthur looked at the serious expressions of the three people around him and began to panic. "What's wrong? Aren't we here to find out who the killer is?"

Well, the diplomats who were dismissed don't even know the specific details.

Nietzsche stood beside Snape, his eyes slightly narrowed, and a sarcastic smile began to appear in the eyes of both the headmaster and student of Slytherin.

Finally, Snape grinned, seemingly pleased by Arthur's panic: "Looks like a hapless fellow, Weasley. You'd better go home and eat well... at least you won't be too badly off when you get sent to Azkaban."

"Snape, don't give me that crap!" Arthur yelled, trembling.

"The dead were Muggle government officials, including some from the United States... You should know what the other side of the ocean thinks of the Muggle government. The situation is more serious than you think. You're just a pathetic... scapegoat."

Snape could even imagine the headlines that would follow: "The culprit who almost caused a conflict between wizards and Muggles."

While the logic is sound, Snape's words were far too chilling. Look how Arthur was terrified; he was already sweating profusely before the game even started.

"Do American wizards have any special treatment?" Nietzsche tried to divert the other person's attention.

"Over there... they're even more conservative towards Muggles than the British Ministry of Magic. The Muggle government in America knows absolutely nothing about wizards." Arthur slumped in his chair, his mind blank, and quickly recounted everything he knew.

Nietzsche pondered for a moment; clearly, the person behind the scenes at Oxford University had premeditated this.

So the person behind it all learned about the wizarding world through Quirrell, and then used the dark wizard as a weapon to ignite the powder keg of the wizarding world, not only sowing discord between Britain and wizards, but also directly dragging America into the mess.

“Holmes is in charge of this diplomatic mission, and I happen to be Holmes myself, so you don’t need to worry,” Nietzsche reassured him. “You only need to consider the two issues of the prisoner’s treatment; that’s the important thing.”

Some things are matters of principle.

From Mycroft's perspective, the British government had to show a tough stance, so it was impossible for the Ministry of Magic to deal with the criminals.

Of course, Ron also mentioned that after the last magical war, most Death Eaters escaped by claiming they were 'controlled by the Imperius Curse,' so Nietzsche did not want to be judged by the Ministry of Magic in the end.

"You mean, Muggles want to try dark wizards themselves?" Arthur grasped at this lifeline and quickly said, "Then you know who the culprit is?"

Nietzsche shook his head slightly, interrupting his reverie.

“I don’t know who it is, but I know who it’s related to… who were the beneficiaries of the last magic war? This time it’s the same story.”

Think about it carefully, Arthur. The responsibility you bear is not just an ordinary case of Muggles being harmed by dark magic.

Did anyone benefit from the last magic war?

Yes, some do. They amass wealth through arson, murder, and robbery, suppress the arrogance of Muggles and half-blood wizards, and then finish their mission perfectly... Dumbledore quickly figured out his plan.

"Those Death Eaters from back then," the headmaster began, offering a reminder.

"It's them again!" Arthur gripped his rough trousers tightly. "That's it, they always like to bully Muggles. I'm going back to get a search warrant!"

Snape fell silent and stood against the wall.

Nietzsche stopped the anxious Arthur Weasley and coaxed him, "How can you arrest someone without evidence? Alright, Mr. Weasley, why don't you go and visit Ron and the others first?"

The plan has worked. Now, when Arthur, filled with anxiety and anger, finds his sons, he is drawn into the eavesdropping scheme.

He continued, "They will tell you how to deal with it."

Arthur opened his mouth as if to say something, but after seeing Dumbledore nod, he made up his mind.

The tall, thin man straightened his clothes, concealed his earlier emotions, and put on a friendly smile again. After leaving the office, he would no longer be a Ministry of Magic official.

The oak door creaked open, leaving only the three of them in the principal's office.

Headmaster Dumbledore, Nietzsche, and Dean Snape were all deep in thought, each with their own concerns; this matter could not afford the slightest mistake.

"How is Quirinus doing?" Dumbledore was the first to break the silence.

"It's the same as always, except he's been making a lot of moves lately." Snape said reluctantly, his voice nasal. "I should mention that Nietzsche, the famous figure in Slytherin, has been getting a little too close to him."

He didn't know what Dumbledore's plans were, but the important thing was not to involve certain people.

“Professor, if you would like, I can give you a gift like this next Christmas,” Nietzsche suddenly interjected.

"With that detective brain of yours, how come you didn't see anything?" Snape scoffed. "You think I'd be jealous of a Muggle? What a joke..."

Did I say you were jealous?

"..."

Nietzsche could swear that if wizards had the chance to transfer houses, Snape would have loved to be sent to another house, then have his points severely deducted, and be forced to manually clean piles of cauldrons in the basement.

Unfortunately, there are no "what ifs".

"What exactly are you trying to say, Severus?" Dumbledore was also somewhat puzzled. "Did you drink too much Dragon Whiskey this morning?"

“What I want is—stop playing games!” Snape waved away the bowl of snacks on the table. “Didn’t you tell Nietzsche about what happened to Quirrell? A curse? Dark magic?”

Nietzsche noticed the principal's gaze and immediately looked away.

He discovered that Headmaster Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore had an unusually bad relationship, so Nietzsche decided to follow Hermione's example and play dead.

“We’ve discussed this thoroughly, and the conclusion is… Quirinus can be helped.” Dumbledore paused for a moment, then continued, “And your task is to ensure he completes his mission successfully.”

"This is the solution that the greatest wizard of our time and the most self-proclaimed clever wizard came up with together," Snape nodded and said. "Perfect."

A thief breaks into a homeowner's house and doesn't get caught. Instead, the homeowner has to open the safe himself and even watch the thief take the valuables.

He wished he could use a magic wand to pull out all the wonderful ideas in their minds.

However, Headmaster Dumbledore didn't seem to care about Snape's sarcasm at all. Perhaps he was used to it, but more likely it was because only in this office would he reveal these emotions... even if they were unpleasant.

Snape issued his final warning.

"you sure?"

“I’m quite certain,” Dumbledore said with absolute certainty. “Based on Quirinus’s recent condition, I’m certain he won’t last much longer, and you know who put him in charge.”

Nietzsche knew it was a form of curse; the headmaster had said it was some kind of parasitic method, meaning that his conversation with Quirrell was likely being monitored.

But it doesn't matter, he just went to class as usual.

"He has a way of dealing with those large creatures; I almost had my leg bitten off back then!"

Despite Snape's reluctance and suspicion about the secrets of the old man and the young boy, he ultimately chose to compromise.

His facial muscles began to relax, reverting to the cold expression he had during class, and he said, "I can only guarantee that Quirrell will eventually get his hands on it, but you! You're not allowed to drag Potter down with you!"

Haha, it seems this Slytherin headmaster has some little secrets about the famous Potter.

Nietzsche took the snack bowl that Snape had taken away and stuffed a few Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans into his mouth in front of the headmaster. The first one he put in his mouth was pineapple flavored, but the second one immediately had a fiery taste that went straight to his nose.

But his gambler's mentality drove him to keep trying.

“Sorry, Severus,” Dumbledore said with a smile, watching Severus tap his thigh lightly. “If you’re unhappy, I’d be happy to let you burn my beard.”

But he did not grant Snape's request.

"Why let Harry in?" Nietzsche frowned as well.

“This is a long story, and I can’t lie, so I can only tell you part of it truthfully… Regarding Harry, he carries an ancient magic that can temporarily force Quirrell out the curse.”

Nietzsche knew that no matter how much he said, the principal wouldn't reveal too much.

Helpless, Snape could only glare fiercely at Dumbledore, clearly showing how much he cared about Harry Potter.

Targeting is also a way of showing concern, but that's a matter between Snape and Harry. Nietzsche also knew that the professor wasn't the kind of person who would tell everyone everything.

"What are you still standing here for?" Snape opened the office door and found Arthur still standing there in a daze, so he shouted impatiently, "What, it seems you miss the days when you were caught by the warden and made to stand as punishment!"

Arthur waved awkwardly at Nietzsche inside.

“I don’t know where Ron and the others are now…” He gave an awkward laugh.

Chapter Sixty: Arthur's Attack

Led by Nietzsche, Arthur eventually found his three sons in an abandoned shack on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

They seemed to be tinkering with something; the magic radio on the table was disassembled into pieces, while George held a pair of binoculars for watching the ball game in one hand and a wand in the other, muttering to himself about the parts.

This is where Hagrid temporarily takes in magical creatures.

"Hey, hey, hey?" Fred called out from the side, holding the black box.

"I can't hear...very...clearly," came the intermittent voice from the other end of the line. It was Ron, who was sitting in the sun at the entrance of the shed, speaking.

"Received, Ronnie! Hey George! Add a megaphone spell!"

None of them knew that their father had already walked up behind them; they were just engrossed in their work. Arthur, however, was already eager to try it out just by watching them carve a whole bunch of runes onto the small device.

What is this thing? How come he's never seen it before?

“Um… George, don’t cut the Muggle’s wires,” Arthur couldn’t help but say.

“Fred, shut up. It’s just an electrical wire…” George retorted instinctively without looking up. “If you’re so capable, why don’t you try it yourself? All we need to do now is get the magic circulating.”

Fred turned his head and glanced at him, puzzled.

But who is Arthur?

He was the one in the Ministry of Magic who handled magical items, so seeing the clumsy George made him feel like ants were crawling all over him. In his opinion, George hadn't learned anything from him at all.

"Just electrical wires?" Arthur stood on tiptoe, raising his voice as he peered out. "The foundation of creating magical items is finding a vessel for magic. How can you continue if you tear down the existing energy circulation system?"