Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

It's alright, he and Uncle Mycroft will cut off the snakes' teeth and scales one by one.

Chapter Seventy-Two: Quirrell's Farewell Performance

By the time Hermione returned, it was already a week before the exam.

Mrs. Pince usually enjoyed watching the young wizards stay up late to study in the last few days of their lives.

After discussing it, the wizards suddenly realized that of all the subjects in the final exams, the most dangerous one was actually Defense Against the Dark Arts, which had replaced Transfiguration.

No one knows what kind of questions Quirrell will ask, because the different teachers result in different question styles every year.

“I just hope to get a P (pass) so I can go back and hand it in.” Ron looked at the books piled up in the middle of the long table and suddenly felt a little sleepy. “Professor Quirrell shouldn’t be that strict. He seems quite easy to talk to.”

He must have developed a condition where he falls asleep as soon as he starts reading.

“You’re right, but Quirrell is a professor with twelve Owls certificates, so you don’t know where he’ll start, from herbalism to astronomy, runes…” Theodore said like a broken record.

“But he is indeed very easy to talk to. Last time Harry had a headache during class, Professor Quirrell told him he could go home and rest,” Neville countered.

Because they were in a library, they spoke very softly.

This only made Hermione more irritable; everyone's voices sounded like countless mosquitoes buzzing in her ears.

“Professor Quirrell isn’t going to teach us something we haven’t learned before!” Hermione interrupted their conversation, speaking in an almost commanding tone. “If you want to pass, don’t even think about trying to learn from the professor!”

On the day of exam week, the young wizards of Gryffindor and Slytherin finally saw the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam papers.

Just as Hermione said, they only needed to attend Quirrell's classes to pass; all they had to do was write "On the Classification of Dark Magic" and "The Difference Between Universal Breaking Charms and Fighting Poison with Poison."

The past few days have all been theoretical exams. Everyone was in a stuffy classroom, answering questions with quill pens handed out by the professor.

However, Nietzsche preferred the Potions exam... not because the exam was easy, but because the basement was cool!

"Da...da da...da da...da..."

Although the quill pen has an anti-cheating charm, some other Muggle wizards would tap their fingers lightly on the table to make different long and short sounds as a code to send 'urgent information' to their companions at the next table.

Neville's trick helped Ron pass his herbalism exam with flying colors, and now it's Harry and Ron's turn to repay him.

Suddenly, Harry's tapping on the table became more rapid.

"Da da da da~"

"What does this mean?" Neville muttered to himself, listening to the continuous, uninterrupted knocking.

He didn't know what was wrong with Harry all of a sudden, so he started counting the number of taps on his fingers.

“Potter, if you can’t control your hands, get out of the classroom.” Snape’s voice came from behind him. “Mr. Longbottom, is that what you mean?”

The other lions and snakes sighed and covered their faces.

Surprisingly, Snape only verbally attacked Longbottom and did not immediately make him leave the exam room.

"Let me see who's going to have to retake the course next year... Haha, Mr. Longbottom, there's still half an hour left before the exam ends, keep writing." The old bat let out a cold laugh and then brushed past Neville's desk to the other side.

As soon as the theory exam ended, Hermione eagerly sat down next to Nietzsche at dinner before the practical exam began.

Although Nietzsche saw it as a kind of showing off... especially for the final exam on the history of magic, Hermione had practically memorized the entire exam content.

"It was simpler than I expected. The Transfiguration exam didn't cover anything from 'Transfiguration Today.' By the way, who did you write as the 'first Minister of Magic' on the History of Magic exam?" she asked nervously.

Nietzsche silently moved his chair aside; that was his answer.

"Can we not check the answers after the exam?" He suddenly felt that the Spanish cold soup on his plate didn't taste so good anymore.

“Wait, let me look…” Hermione loved to review her exams afterward. After glancing at her textbook covered in sticky notes, she continued, “I wrote ‘Urrick Gump,’ aha! I got it right!”

But usually, in the time following an exam, for every person who laughs, there's someone who cries.

The smile didn't disappear; it simply moved from Hubble's face, opposite Nietzsche, to Hermione's.

"Damn it!" Hubble glared angrily at Hermione.

The next morning was the Charms class and the Transfiguration exam. The corridor was packed with students. The professor would only call one student in at a time, and everyone hoped that the professor would call their name first.

Anyway, finishing the exam early means I can have some more time to play.

Unlike the others, Hermione and Nietzsche weren't too nervous; they were only thinking about how to spend their summer vacation.

"I've already decided. First, I'll go to the Oxford Library to look up information on runes, then I'll study medicine, and then I'll preview the material for next semester..." Hermione leaned against the wall, her tone full of warning.

But Nietzsche simply said "Oh".

"Do you understand what I mean?" Hermione pursed her lips and nudged him with her shoulder.

“If you mean I should come with you, I might… not have that much time,” Nietzsche retorted.

Lavender and Parvati, standing in front of the two, and Daphne, standing at the back of the line, all perked up their ears... Something's fishy. Could it be that the two of them are planning to go on a date so early this summer?

Hmm? Don't their parents stop them?

Nietzsche and Hermione were like two children, constantly bumping into each other, neither willing to give in.

“No! I mean, you’re not allowed to interfere with my plans!” Hermione nodded slightly and said seriously, “You’re not allowed to suddenly appear behind my yard during the summer holidays just to go to the store to buy a bottle of soda.”

“And comics…” Nietzsche added, squinting.

"Whatever it is, our relationship ends here!" Hermione said fiercely, making a slashing motion with her hand. "It ends after summer vacation! Understand?"

Pavati listened intently.

what relationship?

Why has Hermione never told her this?

Could it be that Theodore from Slytherin was right—that a rift had formed between Hermione and Nietzsche...?

But Hermione suddenly changed the subject and said, "Of course, if you want to read some books, I have no objection."

The names of Nietzsche and Hermione were mentioned one after another.

“Just let this tap-dance across the table,” Professor Flitwick said, standing on the pile of books as usual, pointing to the pineapple in front of him. “This kind of exam is too easy for you, so let’s not waste time on it.”

Professor Flitwick looked at the Slytherin and Gryffindor students' report cards and put an o (excellent) next to Nietzsche and Hermione's names.

Nietzsche and Hermione gave the pineapple two little legs, which then danced comically and completed the exam.

“There’s one more thing, Miss Granger. You must know quite a bit about duels, right?” Professor Flitwick called out to Hermione, who was about to leave. “I’ve heard quite a bit about them from Quirinas.”

He was all smiles, seemingly valuing his opponent's dueling talent.

Especially Miss Granger, this little witch, although very clever, is still a bit hesitant in practicing spells... She's too obedient, which Flitwick finds a bit of a pity, so he has some ideas.

He intended to train Granger to be a dueling prodigy.

"You mean the dueling club?" Hermione asked hesitantly. "But that's only for upperclassmen..."

“I didn’t ask you to join the dueling club. Because of your age, I can only let you watch from the sidelines.” Flitwick cleared his throat and called for the next student to come in for the exam in a shrill voice.

In fact, this is just exploiting loopholes in the school rules.

Hermione was well-liked by both the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff heads, so as long as Flitwick didn't say anything, McGonagall, as the vice-headmaster, would just turn a blind eye to certain things.

This idea became even more certain when Flitwick heard that Hermione was going to the school infirmary or St. Mungo's Hospital every now and then.

At the very least, Hermione should be able to protect herself.

The transfiguration test involves turning a mouse into a snuff bottle—success is enough to pass, and the level of detail will earn you extra points.

Professor McGonagall rarely fails students... unless they can't even perform the most basic transformations.

“Everything is ready.” Quirrell stretched and continued grading papers in his office. “Their vigilance is gradually lowering; now is a good time, but I don’t understand…”

He drew a big D (bad) in red ink on Malfoy's report card.

Regardless, he was going to be willful today. Even if the exam result was just passing, he would still give Draco Malfoy a 'very poor' grade based on his usual performance.

"What?" Voldemort said listlessly.

"Why aren't you worried about Snape? He may have betrayed you long ago."

“He’s the least likely to betray me…” Voldemort chuckled sinisterly. “Who do you think spread the news about the Potters back then, huh? He just thought I was dead, like those other people.”

However, Voldemort did not want to reveal himself to Snape too early, because he still had a great use for him.

“But he was stopping you from killing that Potter boy.” Quirrell quietly plucked a fluffy hair from his clothes and put it in his pocket, the movement slow but twitching slightly.

Voldemort ignored what he was doing, assuming Quirrell was fiddling with his letters to Muggles again.

“Weren’t you also trying to stop me from killing that child?” Voldemort turned his attention to Quirrell.

“No…Master, killing him will only anger Dumbledore, it’s an unwise choice,” the professor said fearfully. “Besides, I didn’t mean to stop you, it was an instinctive reaction…”

Voldemort remained silent, perhaps believing the explanation.

He could sense Quirrell's desire for the Philosopher's Stone; this couldn't fool the greatest, immortal dark wizard.

"What do you think of that Sherlock Holmes?" Voldemort said. "So his Unforgivable Curse really did make you feel pain?"

“Of course, I suddenly felt a piercing pain, no doubt about it, Master... If you hadn’t forced her, you might have been able to torture Granger to death.” Quirrell passed the buck back.

At the same time, I was also amazed by Nietzsche's talent.

An eleven-year-old child who can easily have thoughts of 'wanting people to die' is no pushover.

“If he succeeds, Dumbledore will start to have doubts... That old man is terrified of geniuses. At that time, I really want to see the second dark wizard I've nurtured with my own eyes, hehehe.”

“But what if he fails?” Quirrell interrupted him urgently.

"Then it's just a Mudblood dying. That way he'll hate me even more. Letting Dumbledore die under my Killing Curse is too easy for him. I want him to experience the feeling of being betrayed and abandoned by everyone."

Quirrell nodded and placed the book on how to care for potted plants from the bookshelf on the table before leaving.

It's four o'clock in the afternoon. Normally, students would be preparing for the night tour or studying in the Great Hall, but today they are all partying without exception. Even Hermione has put down her notebook, which is quite rare.

As he reached the moving staircase, he heard Hermione boasting to Nietzsche.

"Professor Flitwick just secretly told me that I got over 100 points, so I'm definitely going to be number one in the grade this time!" Her voice was full of joy.

So where are they planning to go?

Quirrell rolled his eyes, then tossed out a small tuft of white fluff from his pocket, which landed on Nietzsche's hair.

Nietzsche, however, felt nothing at all, as if a dandelion seed had fallen on him. He and Hermione walked along the edge of the Black Lake, watching the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan teasing the giant squid in the shallow water.