Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

"Lockhart's personal photographer?" Hermione said dismissively.

“No!” Colin shrieked. “I’d rather polish Filch’s trophies than take his picture. Please… do you want to take a picture with him? It’ll only cost 5 nut.”

He pointed to Nietzsche, who had just come out of the Transfiguration classroom.

Poor Colin did nothing wrong. He just wanted his parents to learn about the wizarding world, but the developing potion was so expensive that Colin Crevey, from a working-class family, had to find a way to earn some pocket money.

"Then you might as well go put up a notice and help graduating students or couples take photos..." Hermione said, rubbing her forehead and quickening her pace.

She could suffer the same kind of torment as Harry.

Dealing with Lavender and Pavati in my own dorm room is annoying enough.

After casually dismissing Colin, Hermione, carrying a stack of Transfiguration papers, went down from the second floor with Nietzsche. But as soon as she reached the moving staircase, she heard several curses, which sounded like Draco and Ron arguing.

"You Weasleys, you'd rather use Muggle stuff to frame us... We're wizards! Why would you try to help an outsider?!"

Draco grabbed Ron by the collar with his left hand and punched him in the face with his right fist.

Just as he was about to press his advantage, he caught sight of Nietzsche pushing his way to the front of the crowd, and hesitated for his second punch.

"Who the hell is in cahoots with you? Bah!"

Taking advantage of the moment of respite, Ron pushed the other man away and spat a mouthful of blood onto his shoe. Ron's right eye was bruised, but even so, he didn't cry. He just sniffed and gave a contemptuous smile.

Spotted Mouse jumped out of his pocket and hid between the legs of the crowd, peering out.

"You let those greedy Muggles take my family's land and money... Weasley, look at you! You help them, but you can't even afford a new wand!"

Draco limped up to him, squatted down, snatched the wand from his hand, and shook it forcefully.

In fact, Draco wasn't much better off, but he was already blinded by rage. Ignoring Ron's attempts to tear it off, he forcefully twisted it off, ripping off the magic tape wrapped around it, and threw the two pieces of his wand on the ground.

Ron wiped the blood from his nose with his sleeve and put the two wands away.

"Ha, who knows if Malfoy's ancestors used dark magic to trick the Muggle king into giving them this land." He licked his lips, pointed at Draco's nose, and laughed. "Draco, don't even think about washing your hands of this."

"What, you want your dad, who's only left with the school board, to fire me? Come on!"

After saying that, he rammed his head into Draco's stomach, grabbed the other's waist with both hands, and threw him to the ground.

Only the school board members remained... Draco was enraged by this statement.

Ron opened his mouth and bit his hand, then seized the opportunity to kick the other's wand aside. Immediately afterwards, the two wizards wrestled together like Muggles in front of dozens of onlookers.

The two were tearing at each other's hair and clothes, occasionally biting with their teeth and jabbing with their knees...

"Get out of the way!" Harry pulled out his wand, intending to go forward and help.

"Don't come near me, Harry! This is Weasley's way of teaching Malfoy a lesson!" Ron gasped, enduring the pain as he spoke.

“Professor, they’re still fighting.” Filch’s voice came from the dungeon. “It’s the Weasleys and Malfoys. They ignored my warnings, first openly using magic in the corridor, and then they started fighting.”

At that moment, Nietzsche saw Filch, the castle caretaker, who was hunched over and speaking solicitously as he led Snape around.

Snape, with a cold expression, watched the two locked in a fierce battle on the ground. He simply flicked his wand upwards, and Ron and Draco were lifted up by an invisible hand and hung upside down from the ceiling.

Even though they couldn't touch each other, they still glared fiercely at each other.

“Gryffindor and Slytherin each lose ten points... Who started it?” Snape demanded of the onlookers.

“Malfoy started it!” Neville said, mustering his courage.

But Snape ignored Neville and Harry, focusing instead on the remaining Slytherins.

Everyone knew that the dean was trying to deduct more Gryffindor points, but Theodore and Hubble, who were leading the group, saw Nietzsche behind the crowd, whispered a few words, and then raised their hands.

“We saw with our own eyes that Draco struck first,” Theodore said.

"Mr. Nott, are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure... Draco argued with Ron first, and then he used magic in the hallway."

(Nietzsche: So why are you looking at me?)

"Draco, come to my office after class and write a self-criticism. Okay... get back to the classroom." Snape put the two down and glanced at the snakes. "Weasley, you don't need to go to the infirmary yet!"

But what could be done? Because of Snape's intervention, the matter could only be left unresolved.

Unfortunately, Filch had to go to Snape because it was closer to him. If it were any other professor, it wouldn't have ended with just a written apology.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, helping his friend up the instant Snape turned away.

“That madman… ugh, as long as those two lackeys don’t help him, his light punches…” Ron covered his head with one hand and hooked his other arm around Harry’s shoulder, “He was pulling hair like a girl!”

Hermione lowered her head, feeling a little guilty.

Draco clearly directed his anger at the Weasleys. To the pure-bloods, the Weasleys' actions were tantamount to ganging up with Muggles to bully wizards, and they weren't even considered one of their own.

But Nietzsche could understand Ron's disdain.

"Do you think they might do something desperate?" Hermione looked at Draco's gloomy face, feeling uneasy. "I mean... even though they can't do anything to us, our parents are just ordinary people."

"Professor Quirrell will write if there is any change."

Draco glanced down at the red strand of hair on his fingers, the one he'd just ripped from Weasley's stinky head. Normally, he'd probably wash his hands in disgust...

But he couldn't, because he needed those few strands of hair.

In this class, Snape unusually refrained from tormenting Nietzsche and the other Gryffindors. Instead, he stood next to Draco and had Pansy and Daphne sit together, where the two of them whispered to each other from time to time.

But Ron didn't care about any of that; he was bragging about how he had fought back.

“We only found out about the bug so late, otherwise we would have done it already.” He stuffed a crumpled piece of paper into his nostril, his voice muffled. “Damn Death Eaters… they really think they’re innocent, huh.”

While Hermione was stirring the crucible, she accidentally knocked over other glass bottles because she used too much force.

Fortunately, Nietzsche had been watching her closely and quickly used his magic to catch the bottles and jars.

He knew Hermione was caught in a vulgar vortex of humanitarianism—perhaps she felt that the Malfoys' dirty deeds had little to do with Draco as a student, and thus she felt a little... pitiful?

"Are you going to stir it a few more times?" Nietzsche nudged her a few times.

"Huh? Oh... could you grind it for me? I'll make another one." Hermione said, frowning.

But he was too lazy to say much.

When they bully ordinary wizards, they talk about 'bloodline,' but when they call Weasley a 'pure-blood traitor,' they never call us 'one of their own.'

Chapter Ninety-Three: And so their art style began to change drastically.

"Duel is an art!"

"This art can train your mind and improve your abilities... Whether you are a Muggle or a wizard, the honor brought by a duel can never be forgotten. Here, your goal is the future National Wizarding Duel Tournament."

On Saturday noon, Hermione and Nietzsche were led by Professor Flitwick to a lawn behind the Owl's Hut.

Almost every dean has his own club, but Flitwick's is a dueling club that is never made public. No one doubts whether his abilities are as small as his stature, because everyone who has doubted him has already fallen.

Hermione and Nietzsche stood behind the professor, while several other upperclassmen stood in front of them.

“They’re just here to observe, you guys continue training…” Frivi waved to them.

Despite this, the Ravenclaws did not underestimate it—the fact that two younger students knew about a secret club was enough to say something.

They nodded slightly to the two men, and then began a one-on-one duel on the lawn.

The students first cast an armor spell on themselves before they officially began.

Although the judging rules for real duels are 'one person lies down and one person stands,' Flitwick has his own teaching methods.

“To prevent accidents, the Ironclad Charm being broken is considered a failure,” Flitwick said. “This improves their focus and responsiveness, instead of foolishly waiting until the Ironclad Charm is broken before reacting.”

Hermione discovered that everyone had a different fighting style, which was related to their size and agility.

"Roger Davis, the Quidditch team's Chaser, so he usually sees those spells as the Walker... a very good analogy, but sometimes he does the opposite in Quidditch games."

Frivi gets upset whenever he talks about it.

If Davis considered the roaming ball a curse, that would be one thing, but he also considered the Quaffle a curse, which caused him to deliberately avoid his teammates' passes during games, making it seem like he was throwing the game.

"What are the typical venues for duels?" Nietzsche asked.

“The standard one is about ten meters wide...that’s why I like your lightsaber.” Frivi stroked his beard, shouting a few words here and there as he chatted.

Wizards' fighting ability drops drastically once their wands are taken away or they are brought into close combat.

For example, with the Silent Spell, if a wizard hasn't specifically trained in silent spells, they will immediately lose their fighting ability and become a lamb to the slaughter.

Hermione learned about Nietzsche and Quirrell's experiment during the summer vacation. While she may not have fully grasped it, she could at least understand it... Hermione also played a significant role in the creation of the lightsaber.

"Protego!" Flitwick cast a protective spell on the two of them, then made way for them. "Talk is cheap. Come on, let me see what makes you unique!"

Hermione and Nietzsche were wearing black school robes with their hoods up.

The two exchanged a glance, then simultaneously chanted a spell. Under their control, the dazzling light was molded into a longsword. They casually twirled the sword, causing it to hum.

"What kind of curse is that?" Davis and Ravenclaw stopped and moved closer to the Dean to watch the battle.

"Illumination Charm".

"??"

Davis craned his neck and swallowed hard when he saw the scorch marks left by the sword blade as it sliced ​​through the grass.

"Are you sure this is the Illumination Charm?!" He thought the headmaster was lying to him, and couldn't help but raise his voice. "Did you secretly teach them some other spells... If this is the Illumination Charm, I'll eat my wand."

Flitwick used a levitation spell to prop himself up and jumped up to hit him on the head.

"I told you to read some books, and you just said Quidditch training...that's the essence of standard spells and magic!" the headmaster shouted impatiently.

It's not like this is the first time the two of them have had a duel.

So Hermione struck first.

"Oppugno (A barrage of bullets)!" She transformed the stones on the ground into countless woodpeckers, which attacked Nietzsche.

"A perfect opening move. It seems Granger has learned a lot about Transfiguration Charms from Minerva," Flitwick clapped his hands in praise. "While attacking the opponent, he can also hide behind the birds to close the distance."

Moreover, several iron chains were also found among the birds.

It is the Binding Curse that Hermione hid in the Barrage Curse.

Nietzsche held his breath, raised his left hand and clenched it, freezing all the woodpeckers in mid-air. With a simple twist of his wrist, he easily cut the two iron chains that had wrapped around him in two.

But at that moment, Hermione had already arrived in front of him at an extremely fast speed.