Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

He carefully avoided the cobwebs and dust, making sure his clothes didn't get dirty.

"You guys keep an eye on things, I'll go downstairs and get some chilled juice." Hudson handed over the keys.

After she went downstairs, Quirrell immediately snapped his fingers, and the dust and dust cloths in the room were stirred up by the breeze. Even the leather sofa was made brand new by the cleaning spell.

Hermione was extremely envious—she also wanted to be neighbors with a professor!

"I...can I come here to ask you some questions at other times?" she stammered. "I found some new books at Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley, and I'd like to study some new material here to prepare for the next semester."

“Of course, Miss Granger…”

This time it was Nietzsche's turn to be unhappy, and he protested by putting his hands in his pockets.

"What's wrong? Baker Street wasn't on your itinerary."

“But there’s an option to preview the material,” Hermione said smugly, playing a childish word game. “Sorry, I didn’t come to Baker Street to hang out with you; I came to ask Professor Quirrell some questions!”

"Women are so fickle."

"It's a 'girl,' Mr. Holmes. Please be more careful with your wording."

Watching the two bickering again, Quirrell suddenly found it amusing. He stretched out his back and pounced on the sofa like a child, then turned to the side and began to enjoy his hard-won retirement.

Because of Voldemort, the wizarding world can't possibly show its face, but Mrs. Hudson's place is doing quite well...

In the following days, whenever Nietzsche walked from his bedroom to Quirrell's house with his eyes still blurry, Hermione would always open the door. She never seemed to sleep in, and every time she came, she was carrying a huge pile of books.

“It’s already eleven o’clock. Are you still in estivation after hibernation ends?” Hermione asked.

Nietzsche, dressed in his nightgown, stood in the doorway with a plate of biscuits in his hand—the 'breakfast' he had just asked Mrs. Hudson for. He yawned lazily, turned sideways, and squeezed through the gap between Hermione and the door frame.

The girl touched the top of her head, indicating that his black hair was sticking up.

Nietzsche tried to suppress it a few times, but when he found it had no effect, he ignored it and simply let it go. This made Hermione roll her eyes – he was so elegant at school, but he was even more slovenly than her when he got home.

"Boring... If only I could use magic."

Nietzsche kicked off his slippers, lay barefoot on his side on the plush carpet, and scratched his waist like a monkey as he spoke.

"Can't you eat at the table?" Hermione gave him a light kick, scolding him sharply. "The cookie crumbs will stain the carpet..."

“There’s a plate to catch it,” Nietzsche said nonchalantly, wiping his hands on his robe.

He casually pulled Hermione's bag and found an opened Hogwarts envelope inside. Besides reminding students to take the Hogwarts Express back to school on September 1st, it contained a list of new books for second-year students.

There are nearly ten books in total, which will cost more than twenty Galleons. No wonder the Weasleys are poor.

"In your second year, you should start to learn about dark creatures." Quirrell poured a cup of coffee for each of them. "If necessary, you can go to the Forbidden Forest to gain some practical experience."

“Breaking with the Ghost, Traveling with Ghouls, Walking with Trolls, A Year with the Yeti… Lockhart… all the authors are Gilderoy Lockhart. Is he some big shot?” Nietzsche said.

"Cough cough...Who?!"

Quirrell choked on his coffee and pounded his chest violently.

“Giddon Lockhart.” Hermione snatched the bag and recited the character profile fluently, “A third-class member of the Order of Merlin, a member of the Defense Against the Dark Arts... and a recipient of the Most Charming Smile Award.”

She pulled a book called "Me Who Has Magic" from her bag. The cover featured a wizard in flamboyant and gorgeous clothes, with golden wavy hair, smiling at them.

He was very handsome... but Nietzsche was always allergic to handsomeness.

On the cover, Lockhart flashes a row of white teeth and waves to him and Quirrell.

“I bought this from Flourish and Blotts yesterday…” Hermione raised an eyebrow and said deliberately, “A professor who is both handsome and capable is a rare find.”

This remark angered Quirinas Quilleau, who slammed his cup down.

“Really?” Quirrell said sarcastically. “Why doesn’t it say that the great Gilderoy Lockhart created the Philosopher’s Stone? If I wasn’t wary of the Dark Lord, how would he have had the chance to come across this location?”

Nietzsche realized that he seemed to know this person very well, so he quickly asked him.

"But if he wasn't capable, why would Dumbledore appoint him as a professor?"

“That’s because nobody dares!” Quirrell lay down as well, took a cookie and put it in his mouth. “You know, the Dark Lord publicly cursed this position back then, nobody dared to go, and the number of applicants throughout the year was less than one hand.”

At this point, he seemed quite pleased with himself, knowing that he had been invited by Flitwick and Dumbledore, not by his own recommendation.

You can tell the difference at a glance.

“Maybe.” Hermione sat on the sofa and put her feet next to Nietzsche’s head.

“The new textbooks are all his own writings; he must be an extremely narcissistic person.” Nietzsche pretended not to care. “But it doesn’t matter, I understand… even Granger couldn’t escape this kind of vulgarity.”

She's just a little more handsome than him; it's only temporary.

“Really? But he has the Order of Merlin, Third Class,” Hermione retorted.

Nietzsche couldn't think of anything to refute, so he winked at Quirrell: This man is about to surpass you.

"The third-class medal is only for wizards who have made contributions to knowledge or entertainment. Besides, even Fudge can award himself a first-class medal now. Reading his books is no better than reading dark magic literature."

However, Quirrell would speak up without being reminded, because he was genuinely annoyed.

From his words, Nietzsche learned how much of the Order of Merlin's medals were now considered inflated...

“I’ll believe for now that you two aren’t maliciously slandering me.” Hermione picked up a copy of “Sailing with Vampires” to hide her sly, fox-like smile. “But the stories he writes are quite good.”

“A story?” Quirrell and Nietzsche exchanged a glance and simultaneously let out a disdainful sneer.

No story can compare to their discovery of the essence of magic from standard spells.

Of course, it wasn't that he disliked Lockhart's silly grin with his white teeth showing... Quirrell looked at the cover of "Me Who Has Magic" and subconsciously touched his bald head.

Back in the day, he had hair too.

Chapter 80 Attack on the Parliament Building

The first half of summer vacation was uneventful; Hermione and Nietzsche spent most of their time studying under Quirrell's guidance, treating Gilderoy Lockhart's books almost like stories.

It only contains some knowledge about the habits of dark creatures, and it's too scattered. It's more convenient to just listen to Quirrell.

Because of the "Regulations on the Prohibition of the Abuse of Magic by Underage Wizards," Quirrell also lent his wand to the two children, so their application and progress in spells were very rapid, and they did not slack off in their research on the nature of magic.

Anyway, Quirrell can cast spells silently and without a staff; aside from the necessary complex incantations, he can solve them all with a snap of his fingers.

It wasn't until mid-August that Nietzsche received the good news from Mr. Wesley.

It was about the wiretapping plan. He said the operation was very successful because they recorded some messages about Malfoy being observed. Nietzsche also found a small piece of tape in the yellow kraft paper envelope.

The sound inside was very faint, but at least you could still make out the general idea:

"Joseph, how's it going with the Muggles?" A cold, emotionless voice came from the tape recorder.

“Those members of parliament and ministers who wanted to kick us out of the Muggle industry have been dealt with... Are you sure you want to do this? Take down the entire parliament?”

The man called Joseph hesitated.

"It's just Muggles fighting amongst themselves. All we need to do is protect the Malfoy family's land... Dobby, Dobby! That damned house-elf...who knows where he's gone again."

Hermione, Sherlock, Nietzsche, and the other two formed a circle, and then they heard a string of curses.

After catching his breath, Malfoy continued, "By the way, your son hasn't been doing well at school lately. I heard from Xiaolong that there's been a bit of a problem with the Slytherins there..."

"Who cares? A bunch of greenhorn kids. Even without Dumbledore's protection, they'll still have to work for us. Alright, Arthur didn't find out about this when he came to your house with the search warrant, did he?"

"Hmph, it was just for some dark magic items, I would have given them away long ago..." Malfoy let out a few cold laughs.

Then the tape recorder made a few cracking sounds from the firewood and then went silent. Nietzsche knew that was the effect of Floo Powder.

That's where it ends. Although the purebloods are very cautious and rarely interact with others, some details were still uncovered. Sherlock listened to the story several times before he was able to determine the purebloods' motives.

"I'm afraid it's not just the Prime Minister; those in the Four Holy Temples know about the existence of wizards, and they know them very well... I'm afraid the previous Lord Chancellor of England was trying to cut off the pureblood's foot in Wiltshire."

"Joseph...Quirinas, do you know this person?"

Quirrell thought for a moment and got his brain, which had returned to its previous active state, working again.

"I have a vague recollection of him; he seems to be the head of the Flint family. I've heard the Dark Lord mention his name quite a few times." He wasn't entirely sure. "I've never fought him, so I don't know anything about him..."

"What is their relationship with the Ministry of Magic?" Sherlock immediately followed up with his second question.

“If you want to know about the politics of the Ministry of Magic, you should look up the biographies of the past ministers.” He made a book fly out of Nietzsche’s bedroom. “One member of the Flint family is a minister, and the other is the wife of the former headmaster.”

Very closely... no, not just 'closely,' it should be considered part of the Ministry of Magic.

The book about the Ministry of Magic was covered in Nietzsche's red ink, and Sherlock looked at his son without saying a word.

He also learned something else: about Nietzsche's time at Hogwarts. Combined with the books he'd been interested in recently, he figured a mere detective wouldn't be enough for him, so he must be the wizarding world's administrator?

Many familiar surnames can be seen among the ministers throughout history—Flint, Parkinson, Rolfe...

A family entirely composed of Death Eater prospective members.

In particular, during the time when the Parkinson family were ministers, marriage between Muggles and wizards was prohibited, and Minister Flint even made the statement that "new Muggle tools will interfere with wands."

It's no wonder that the Dark Lord chose to be a pure-blood, as he could have instantly gained control of most of the Ministry of Magic's resources and influence. Unfortunately, he made a wrong move and died at the hands of Harry Potter's parents.

“I know what you’re thinking… but even if I could indict anyone, they wouldn’t be handed over to the Muggle government by the Ministry of Magic. Quirrell is sorry and regretful about that.”

In the end, Moriarty made the first move, so he's temporarily in the lead.

If the Ministry of Magic doesn't hand over the people, it's entirely possible that the governments of the two worlds will become hostile.

For a moment, everyone fell silent, but Hermione suddenly caught a whiff of something and thought of Thomas Rothlen's motive—to reclaim the Malfoy family's land in Wilshire.

“He is the Chief Justice, and he has the power to use the law and his authority to forcibly take it back... We can absolutely fulfill his ‘last wish’.” Her rational logic was like a deadly poisoned blade.

There's absolutely no need to pierce the heart; a gentle scratch on the skin is enough.

Sherlock was very impressed, as if he had found a shadow of someone in her. He began to re-evaluate the girl and slightly raised his expectations of her.

“A good sense of smell. If you weren’t a wizard, you wouldn’t have achieved much,” he said. “Now I understand why Nietzsche made you his assistant.”

So, on the morning of the day at the end of August, when the Houses of Parliament were preparing to announce the end of the first half of Parliament, Hermione didn't even have time for breakfast. She put on a plaid shirt, a baseball cap, and went out.

The Grangers were unaware that their daughter had gone to confront a terrorist attack; they assumed she had gone to visit Nietzsche again.

The Houses of Parliament, also known as the Palace of Westminster, are located in central London, near Whitehall, along with the Ministry of Defence, the Foreign Office, and the Admiralty. Today is the day Joseph Flint will make his move.

“But how do we get in?” Hermione stood in the Victoria Tower Gardens, which were open to the public, looking at the various department members in formal attire, and couldn’t help but feel panicked.

It's hard to imagine that Britain would be paralyzed if all these people died.