Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

The two men, their bodies riddled with thorns, closed their eyes and collapsed to the ground.

"Holmes found us?!" Draco clutched his head and haphazardly plunged into the bushes.

He would immediately turn his head at the slightest sound from the surrounding bushes.

"No, those are XXXX dangerous level centaurs, there's no way they could have found us." Lucien was confident in his spell. "Run... faint!!"

Several beams of magical light shot through the air and struck a centaur through the gaps in the branches.

But the opponent only staggered back a few steps, and after struggling to blow an arrow in the direction from which the curse came, he slowly collapsed to the ground. This scene made Bane even angrier.

Instead of fleeing immediately, the enemy retaliated.

No matter how much Draco and his companions fled, or how many times they fought the centaurs in the forest, they never doubted Nietzsche; they only cursed the centaurs who had ruined their plans.

'Is this a coincidence, or a deliberately set trap?' Daphne stopped running and suddenly stood still.

"Run! What are you waiting for?!" Pansy hissed.

“Parkinson, I know you’ve always disliked me, but how about I stay this time?” Daphne looked at the centaur with nothing but disgust in her eyes. “For the glory of purebloods, the Greengrass family has no deserters.”

Pansy found it hard to believe, and even felt a touch of emotion.

So she really ran away...

Daphne hid behind a tree, and once the Disillusionment Charm on her body gradually wore off, she knew that Lucien had already run far away. So she simply put her wand back in her waistband, raised her hands, and walked out.

"I surrender!!"

Daphne's forehead beaded with sweat as she looked at the centaurs surrounding her.

"A little pony?" Margaret cried out in surprise. "Stop! Leave this to me!"

“They went that way.” Daphne dared not move, only turning her eyes to look in the direction Pansy had fled. “I won’t stop them, I just want to ask one thing… Have you heard of Nietzsche?”

With a nervous heart, she desperately hoped that the centaur before her would nod.

Margaret simply waved, signaling the other centaurs to continue the pursuit, while she and Bain remained where they were.

Mentioning his name won't do any good...

"It seems you know him. Alright, you can do it now. I know the rules." Daphne turned her head and closed her eyes, but she felt much more relaxed.

Now it was Bain and Margaret's turn to be at a loss, unsure whether Daphne was bluffing.

“Don’t worry, this contains the Water of Life and Death and…and the Elixir of Oblivion.” Margaret looked apologetic. “You won’t feel any pain. We’ll throw your companions out of the Forbidden Forest later.”

"Remember to tell Nietzsche that the person you met was Daphne Greengrass, he will understand..."

Daphne felt as if she had been pricked by a needle in her arm, followed by a wave of dizziness and lightheadedness, and she collapsed.

Thanks to Daphne's earlier guidance, the remaining three were not spared either. However, before losing consciousness, Lucien used a spell to make many centaurs faint or stiffen their legs.

When the centaur patrol returned to the tribe, an excited Bain told Nietzsche about it.

“We were attacked by several invisible wizards today, but… one of them was named Daphne Greengrass, do you know her?”

“I know them, but we’re not close.” Nietzsche chuckled and changed the subject. “Don’t worry, they’ll forget what happened today… By the way, let me help you deal with the lingering effects of the dark magic.”

Several centaurs have completely lost their ability to move.

Some were unconscious, some were stiff, while the conscious ones had their four hooves twitching unconsciously, like a moon-obsessed beast bathed in moonlight.

“We can overcome this with herbs. After a few days of rest, the residual magic will dissipate…” Bain said somewhat reluctantly, seemingly not wanting the wizard to see his people incapacitated.

"But would they be willing to do nothing?" Nietzsche stroked the centaur's hair. "Of course, if they were officials from the British Ministry of Magic, they might even take the opportunity to ask for a few days off."

No mole, so here are some Ministry of Magic jokes that centaurs love to hear.

This worked well on Bane; he laughed loudly and enjoyed comparing the Neanderthals' sense of responsibility to those in the Ministry of Magic.

“The little pony is right, Bane, we’re not those lazy pigs in the Ministry of Magic!”

"The tribe's patrol team cannot be short-staffed at this time."

Those horsemen who had been lying on the ground and had recovered all shouted Nietzsche's name.

Most of these poisonous and evil curses can be dispelled with common antidotes. In addition, Nietzsche's knowledge from Professor Quirrell meant that even complex dance-step curses could be countered with freezing curses.

“Bane, you’ve finally made progress.” Ronan walked up to them and suddenly said something inexplicable.

"Are you getting senile?" Bain said gruffly. "Didn't I improve before?"

"Isn't it amazing? Collaboration always makes things go more perfectly. I can see your star in Centaurus shining brightly, and I'm so happy for you..."

The scene of the wizard breaking the spell on the centaur looked so harmonious and natural.

But Bain glanced at it sideways and deliberately teased, "Were you stargazing with that lunatic Ferenze again last night?"

Its prejudice against adult wizards is mostly significant.

Even with the young wizard Hagrid brought, Bane could only speak to Nietzsche.

They could appreciate each other—Bain admired Nietzsche's respect for life, while Nietzsche admired Bain's freedom, but they would maintain a comfortable distance from each other for a time.

"Secondly... I don't hate all wizards, I just hate their... arrogance." Bane weighed the blowpipe in his hand and found that it worked quite well for wizards when combined with potions.

It's as if centaurs never need wizards to define whether they are human.

"And what about him?" Ronan asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“I don’t know… Hagrid likes us because of his love for magical creatures, while Dumbledore’s kindness is more like compassion,” Bane said seriously. “But talking to him makes me feel like I’m not an animal.”

When the centaurs saw Nietzsche return to Hermione's side and tease the dragon, they noticed the calmness on Bane's face.

When Draco woke up, he found that instead of the crystal chandelier and glass of his Slytherin bedroom, there was a white ceiling above him. He remembered that he was taking a nap in his dormitory.

Lady Pomfrey passed by his bedside, bringing with her a pungent smell of potions.

"Awake?" Snape stood by his bedside and said in a cold voice.

"Professor... Professor," Malfoy said blankly, rubbing his groggy head, "how did I end up in the school infirmary?"

Chapter Sixty-Seven: Distinguished Guests in the Forbidden Forest

"Quirk brought you here, who knows what you've been up to this time... never mind, I'm not interested."

Snape looked at the people lying on the bed, asked a few more questions, and found that none of them remembered what had happened. He made a plan in mind, and when he turned to get the White Essence, a smile appeared on his lips.

The conversation ended there, and Malfoy and the prefects dared not utter a sound, for fear of angering the headmaster.

"Perhaps you've provoked Quirrell again, because of you, every Slytherin has had twenty points deducted."

“Twenty points? Per person?!” Pansy couldn’t help but exclaim. “But we don’t know what happened, Professor. It’s possible that Quirrell attacked us.”

“I expect you to show respect to the professor, Miss Parkinson. Why can’t you reflect on yourselves?”

Snape spoke in a drawn-out, drawn-out tone, then brewed some white savory essence and handed it to the five men to drink.

“But Quirrell just roughly threw Draco out of the classroom last time, maybe he just doesn’t like us…” Pansy said, indignant on Draco’s behalf.

"enough!"

Snape raised his index finger, causing Pansy Parkinson's tongue to stick to her palate.

Losing a hundred points at once would make anyone angry, especially since the one who deducted the points was Professor Quirrell, who was usually the least popular person in the school clinic.

"He won't be smug for long. He won't have the chance to continue in his position after this year. Don't keep provoking a crazy guy who's about to leave."

All Draco knew about what happened was that his group was trying to get revenge on Quirrell, a professor, and then they were probably taught a lesson by him.

As a result, Draco and the others could only direct their resentment at Quirrell.

As the sun sets, Nietzsche, Harry, and others deep in the Forbidden Forest are speculating about Draco's current state.

"Something's wrong!" The sudden roar startled Ron.

At this point, Hagrid should be leading Basker away from the Forbidden Forest, but he seemed unusually flustered tonight. If Smaug hadn't been having dinner, they would have thought they had been discovered.

Hagrid, carrying a giant crossbow, ran out from a narrow path leading into the dense forest, his hands covered in a silvery liquid.

“What are those things in your hands?” Ron took a few steps back.

“Unicorn blood, I just found it on the way here,” Hagrid said breathlessly. “This is the second time this month. Quick… Harry, get me some water, anything you can find.”

Nietzsche looked around at the centaurs and found them whispering among themselves.

Ronan, however, looked sorrowful and was not surprised by Hagrid's words, as if they were expected.

"Speak slowly." Harry saw Hagrid choke and immediately went over to pat him on the back.

"I've found the killer who killed those animals, tonight! He won't get away!" Hagrid ran to Ronan, furious. "Please, send the little wizard away... I'm begging you."

Ronan did not answer him immediately. After about five minutes, he lowered his head and looked away from the night sky.

“It seems the starry prophecy was right.” He sighed, then continued, “Mars is very bright, which means war and bloodshed… Bane, take the patrol and go with Hagrid…”

But at this moment, Bain hesitated and looked at Nietzsche.

“But they can’t leave now,” it said.

“I’m glad you’ve made a positive change, but on this matter I agree more with Ferenczer’s astrology,” Ronan said slowly. “But it’s the Potters’ children who are most unsafe to stay here, and we can resist for the time being.”

Centaurs always speak in a mysterious way.

Sometimes, Nietzsche genuinely wondered if Dumbledore's way of speaking was something he learned from them.

"It's just an intruder. What does that have to do with war and Harry Potter?" Hermione stared at them blankly.

Bain and Ronan didn't seem to want to reveal too much. As centaurs, they had always followed the natural selection, including their attitude towards prophecy—unwavering belief.

It's as if everything happens because of fate.

“Because the intruder is that person!” A centaur with silver mane emerged from a solitary tent made of wooden frames and branches in the distance. “Bane, I’m glad you’ve started to care about the people around you.”

“Shut up, Ferenczer,” Bain said, clearly annoyed.

Hermione looked in the direction of the voice and saw sideburns and long platinum blonde hair shimmering in the moonlight.

Judging from Ferenczes's posture and tone, he seems more like a centaur sage from mythology, with eyes as beautiful as sapphires and streamlined, well-proportioned muscles.

After seeing Hermione's slightly surprised look, Nietzsche moved closer to Bane.

"Is it always this...showy?" he whispered.