Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

I just thought Hermione's description was quite good, very artistic, so I went along with it—it's a good way of putting it for his autobiography.

Lockhart plans to promote this again for Christmas, using today's quote!

"How's it going? Do you like it?"

“We love it so much, especially the way it’s written,” Hermione said eagerly, mimicking Parvati’s sister. “So we’d like to submit some… wizarding autobiographies to a publisher.”

Nietzsche shifted slightly, hiding in Lockhart's blind spot, and stared wide-eyed at Hermione.

I never expected her to be such a good actress. No wonder she's Professor McGonagall's star student. It seems Hermione is not only good at transfiguration spells.

“A wizard’s autobiography?” Lockhart paused for a moment, then said cautiously, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

"It's about biographies of the founders of Hogwarts... You know, the introductions in books like 'A History of the School' are really too old-fashioned and boring to read." Hermione praised him to the skies without any burden.

Lockhart breathed a sigh of relief after signing the book with the giant peacock quill pen and returning it to her.

“You’re right, those books are indeed a bit outdated,” he said enthusiastically. “If you’re planning to submit a biography of the founder of Hogwarts, that’s the non-academic section, and I happen to know someone who would accept it.”

“But we…we are so old…” Hermione said shyly, lowering her head.

“I believe no one would refuse my recommendation for the first and second best students in the entire grade.” But Lockhart suddenly changed the subject, continuing, “But flying cars…”

“Hermione Granger! She’s number one in the whole grade!” Nietzsche rubbed his hands together, seized the opportunity, and jumped out immediately. “She knows more about spells than I do... She can definitely help the professor fix the flying car.”

Hermione was stunned.

Wait a minute, this wasn't her and Nietzsche's original plan. Why did they suddenly sell her out?

"I..."

“That’s right!” Lockhart looked at him gratefully. “That’s great then. I’ll have someone from the publishing house send you a letter. Miss Granger, you’ll be my assistant for now to help complete this groundbreaking project!”

He never seemed to care about other people's opinions; he would just make his own decisions and then close the door with a laugh.

So Hermione could only turn her head away and look at Nietzsche resentfully. She crumpled the copy of "I Am Magic" in her hand, making Lockhart on the cover run away from the frame in a panic.

“Nietzsche! You’d better give me a reason not to challenge you to a duel!” she roared.

reason...

Nietzsche! Use your brilliant brain to come up with a solution!

"Actually, I'm protecting you!" He quickly grabbed her wrist, which was holding the wand. "Your Majesty, you've misunderstood. The situation is critical right now, and I'm helping you find refuge!"

Seeing his heartbroken expression, Hermione might have actually believed it if she didn't know him.

But Nietzsche's explanation wasn't entirely an excuse. After all, no one knew whether the monster in the Chamber of Secrets would attack indiscriminately. So Hermione could rely on the professor's influence to keep the enemies in the shadows from acting recklessly.

Hermione stepped on his shoes with her leather boots and leaned her head closer.

“You… always have an excuse, but it’s still somewhat plausible. This is just a warning.” Hermione’s hot breath hit his face. “And what about you? You could have been with me.”

“If the murderer is a student of the Pro-Pure school, then someone has to act as bait, right?” Nietzsche took a few steps back. “Honestly, you are very capable, but sometimes you can be really scary.”

However, Hermione simply smiled sweetly.

She cleared her throat, trying hard to suppress her laughter, as if someone had cast a tickling spell on her heart.

"So you think it's Malfoy?"

“It’s hard to say…” Nietzsche stroked his chin, thought for a moment, and continued, “But he recently caught some herbs in the Forbidden Forest, unless he can make a petrifying potion.”

But Hermione said there was no such potion.

She glared at him irritably, shoved the copy of "I Am Magical" with the cursive signature into Nietzsche's arms, and instead of rushing to Flitwick's dueling class, headed for the washroom in the corridor.

"Wait for me to come back so we can go together."

Chapter 101 So Hermione Became the Leader

To be honest, Hermione didn't want to get involved in this investigation.

It wasn't out of fear, but because she had to ensure the safety of others—she was no longer alone, nor did she have Nietzsche as her only friend, so there was much more to prepare.

Hermione stood in front of the sink, rinsing her feverish face with cool water.

"Oh~ another young girl in heat...hehe~" From a restroom behind her marked 'Out of Order', several shrill jeers echoed. "So young, but all I can do is..."

Hermione looked up at the stained and cracked mirror, feeling a little uneasy at the voice. She then lit a few candles on the shelf with her wand, illuminating the dim bathroom.

But this did nothing to help; instead, it made things even more sinister and terrifying—because by the light, she could see the scratches on the wooden doors of the individual rooms, as if they had been made by scratching with fingers.

This is a magic school, not a haunted castle... Hermione could only console herself with this thought.

"Myrtle?" she called out tentatively.

"It's you again..." Myrtle jumped out of the toilet.

"???"

Hermione thought to herself, "This is the first time I've ever met Myrtle."

"Um... I've actually been here all along." Myrtle floated into the air, her voice trembling with tears. "There are hardly any students here, so you were actually looking for me, right... You wanted to play a trick on me too..."

“Nobody’s trying to mess with you!” Hermione glared at her.

But as Myrtle said, she had indeed come several times.

“That’s a joke, you…you Gryffindor student.” She glanced at Hermione’s bow tie. “How are you going to make fun of me, huh? You’re all as annoying as Peeves!”

Hermione covered her forehead; she really didn't want to deal with this kind of person—no, this kind of ghost.

"I'm here to find out how you died..."

"Aaaaaah! How did I die?!" Myrtle rose into the air, stretching her face to both sides as she screamed, "That's great, oh my god, of course, I don't mean that 'I'm dead' is great."

Her attitude changed completely.

When talking about her own death, Myrtle seemed to consider it an honor.

Hermione understood to some extent. After all, a student who didn't seem to be very popular died at school, and she must have harbored some resentment, or rather, some obsession—and this obsession turned her into a ghost.

Nietzsche, who was leaning against the door of the girls' restroom, took out his wand after hearing the scream and immediately kicked the door open and rushed in.

"Oh ho ho~ Sorry, I scared your sweetheart in." Myrtle wiped the water off her face, saw the wand pointed at her, raised her hands, and gave a French salute.

"Tell me about yourself, about how you died...the cause, the process, and the location of your death."

Hermione was too lazy to refute this misunderstanding.

“I died right here, right... on that toilet, don’t laugh!” Myrtle pointed to the toilet with the sign and said with relish, “Back then, someone laughed at me for looking like a four-eyed dog, so I hid here and cried.”

"How did he die?" Nietzsche asked.

"I don't know, I just heard a boy come in and say something, and then I wanted to tell him to get out of the girls' restroom, and then I died... It was so fast, I didn't even have time to scream!"

Myrtle puffed out her chest, as if showing off something she was very proud of.

Although laughing at a dead person is hellish, the contrast between Myrtle's description and her smug expression was so funny that even Hermione coughed several times.

"And then? You'll eventually be able to see the person's face, won't you?" Nietzsche memorized.

"I didn't see any faces, I just remember a pair of yellow eyes...very big, definitely not human. Then I felt lightheaded, but the first thing I did when I got back was to settle accounts with the people who had mocked me!"

When talking about her pranks during her revenge, Myrtle chuckled, completely forgetting about her own death.

Very good, it seems the monster in the secret room does exist.

"Just a glance?" Nietzsche pressed.

“Yes, I only glanced at it, but I’m sure I wasn’t bitten to death because I saw my own body later.” She stuck out her tongue. “I’ve heard that I’m as hard as a rock.”

Eyes, petrification... Hermione noted down these clues.

She asked a few more questions, but Myrtle said she couldn't remember anything, not even what the monster looked like. After the two left the girls' restroom, she waved her handkerchief goodbye.

"Hey! If you all die too, I'll leave you a toilet."

Why is there only one?

Since Nietzsche wasn't a girl, that spot was reserved for Hermione.

During their dueling training, the two of them took the opportunity to tell Professor Flitwick about it—he was the dueling champion, after all; just hearing his name gave them a great sense of security.

"So you're saying that the monster in that secret room is a creature that can turn people to stone with just a glare?" Frivi sat on a rock on the hillside, rubbing his chin.

“Yes, just like Medusa,” Nietzsche said.

“I think I’ve heard...there’s a record of something like this in the school library, let me think…” Flitwick’s expression was awkward, like he’d had a stone stuck in his tooth while eating. “It seems to be---a basilisk?”

But that thing is practically a legendary creature.

Legendary creatures – not referring to creatures that only exist in legends, but rather creatures whose rarity makes the concept and cultivation methods scarce, relying solely on word of mouth.

“But we can’t expect the students to walk around wearing blindfolds every day.” Flitwick felt like he was going to go bald again.

They can only identify the target of the attack, but based on this abstract target, there is generally no fixed time of attack, so the only thing they can do is find the killer as quickly as possible.

But Flitwick still held a sliver of hope—he didn't think it was something a student could have done.

“Minerva and I will work together to strengthen the defenses, Miss Granger. I’ll leave the students to you.” The professor said sincerely, “They have the right to know about this, but how much they say… that’s up to you.”

He knew that those mischievous students wouldn't easily obey the professors' orders.

Hermione Granger, because of her 'study group,' was very influential among students below fifth grade, so Flitwick had no choice but to entrust her with arranging the students' trips to make them feel a sense of urgency.

To put it bluntly, he was attracted to Granger's leadership qualities.

“I understand!” Hermione stood behind the professor, puffed out her chest, and deliberately bumped Nietzsche with her shoulder.

"By the way, didn't you learn a lot from me?" Flitwick felt uneasy, so he added, "Since it's a study group, we naturally need to learn something new. I think your lightsaber spells are quite good."

Okay, that's good.

It's not black magic, so learning a few self-defense techniques isn't a bad thing, is it?

Chapter 102 Hogwarts on High Alert

On the evening of the second day, Hermione gathered many people in the Great Hall.

Many people felt anxious and uneasy, frequently turning their heads to look at unfamiliar classmates, fearing that the 'successor' might be hiding in the crowd.

At the front of the Gryffindor table sat Hermione and Nietzsche, with the rest of the people lined up on either side.