Hermione, let's start the revolution at Hogwarts

"Perhaps if wizards go out for a walk, they can find more new ideas..." He glanced quickly at the window behind the professor, "Is that an owl?"

"Ahaha, a letter from my friend."

The owl used its beak to pick up a letter from the package and stuffed it directly through the gap in the window. The moment it fell on the windowsill, Nietzsche discovered the mimeographed emblem on it.

It was an open book with a crown above each page, making it look like two fortresses.

If Nietzsche remembered correctly, this was a letter from Oxford University... It sounds ridiculous that a professor sitting in a magic school seems to be having dealings with a Muggle school.

"That is..."

"No...yes, it is indeed a letter from a Muggle." Quirrell hesitated for a moment, then continued, "This is a friend I met outside when I was traveling. It is said that he is more knowledgeable than most people."

The wizarding world has always been overbearing towards Muggles.

Unless they are relatives of wizards, any Muggle who knows anything about magic needs to have their memory erased. This is clearly stated in books introducing the magical world.

So there are two possibilities: either Quirrell concealed his identity, or the other party knew the existence of the wizard.

Nietzsche sighed in his heart. To be honest, he really didn't hope that Professor Quirrell was the one he was looking for, because he had finally managed to make the professor change for the better, so he seemed very 'self-deceiving'.

"It seems that every genius wizard is not so pure-blooded~" he said in a joking tone.

The firelight from the fireplace illuminated the sweat on the professor's forehead clearly, but Quirrell did not feel hot and even wrapped his clothes tightly around himself.

As he opened the envelope, he said, "Why do you say that?"

"After all, the more you see, the more you understand. Naturally, you won't be like those pure-bloods, staring blankly at the theory of bloodline. Aren't all powerful wizards also trying to surpass themselves~"

A mind that is not shackled will have more choices.

"Maybe... there are still some exceptions." Quirrell lowered his voice, "Wasn't that mysterious man also a pure-blood?"

"Maybe he's not? Maybe... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is just a pureblood who made him think he is?"

Quirrell opened his mouth and was about to say something when he suddenly frowned and put his hands on both sides of his head and began to rub them. This was an old problem. Every time at a certain time, the professor would have a headache.

At this moment, he became even more panicked, and no longer cared about the letter from the Muggle. He immediately pushed away Nietzsche who came forward to show his concern.

"Let me...rest. Go, wait until you have practiced the new spell. We still have a lot...a lot of things to study."

"Is it the curse of Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Nietzsche's movements were very stiff, and he didn't want to leave just like that. "I've heard about this course, Professor... Professor?!"

"Yes, it's a curse. I'm not worried about that, but I don't want you to be contaminated too much."

Qi Luo was stunned for a moment, then immediately admitted it.

It seemed that the reason for his weakness was this invisible and intangible curse, and every time the curse took effect on him, Quirrell just wanted the students to stay away from him.

Only after pushing Nietzsche out of the door did Quirrell cling to the door frame and lie on the ground like a puddle of mud.

"Master... Master?"

"Quirinus, I want you to kill him! Kill... that filthy mudblood! No, I want him to feel the pain himself..."

"No, not yet." Quirrell's voice was much clearer, but a little intermittent. "I'm worried that Dumbledore will find out... Master, when the matter is done, you can do it yourself."

But his thoughts had been discovered.

"Crucio... Gnawing Bones! You're a piece of shit. Even if I ask you to kill... Potter, you can't do it... You don't even dare to kill a Mudblood. Take off your turban, take it off!"

Quirrell held his chest tightly with his left hand, just like he did during the Quidditch game. He no longer had the confidence he had before. He just crawled slowly towards the mirror in the empty room like a dead dog.

As he untied the headscarf a little bit, his hairless scalp was exposed.

"Do you think that the great Voldemort is now... not long for him?" said the hoarse voice. "'Look, he is now... having difficulty even talking to people', Quirrell, you think so, right?"

Quirrell turned his head with lifeless eyes, and there was a wrinkled face on the back of his head.

That hoarse voice, the one he called 'Master' was none other than Voldemort, the dark wizard whose name must not be mentioned, just as he had defended Snape - maybe he had some unspeakable secret?

But now Qi Luo didn't dare to make any sound and could only fill himself with fear and terror.

"Ah... that's it. Keep... your respect." Voldemort looked at himself in the mirror. "Maybe it was a mistake to choose you as a container, that damned Mudblood..."

What a horrific scene.

Two faces on one head, Voldemort's entire face seemed to be squeezed out of Quirrell's original skin.

There was only a pair of red pupils in the dark eye sockets, and where the nose should have been, there were two cuts on the back of Quirrell's head as if someone had used a dagger to cut... This was the great Voldemort.

"A Slytherin Mudblood, huh? If he weren't kept around... he'd still be of some use... Master, I'm willing to help you get rid of him."

“Fool!” Voldemort cursed with his eyes drooping. “Well, you’d better help me make a body before your vitality runs out... I really... There is really nothing that can make me worry-free.”

This is the curse of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The reason for Quirrell's weakness was not a lie. Voldemort was indeed a curse to him, and he was tortured all the time.

Fortunately, his goal had been achieved, because Nietzsche had seen his extremely abnormal behavior, and Quirrell did not hide himself, but just casually exposed everything.

After Nietzsche came out of the office, he did not go back to the lounge immediately, but found an empty classroom to sort out his thoughts.

"How could a wizard who is used to solving problems with magic make such a mistake... No, no, no, he was deliberately trying to be discovered, but that reckless look doesn't seem to be fake."

"But what does Quirrell want me to see... Think about it carefully, Holmes..."

By the way, Hagrid said that the only ones who want to harm Harry in the wizarding world now could be dark wizards, because this involves the First Wizarding War - the You-Know-Who died because of Harry Potter, so they want revenge.

Could it be that Quirrell is the dark wizard?

Nietzsche did not think so. He wanted to know why Quirrell was afraid of his position. This might be because of the curse, and this "curse" might be the "unspeakable secret".

In the empty classroom, Nietzsche moved all the tables and chairs to the edge and walked back and forth in the center of the classroom alone.

"This is revenge, revenge that was ordered." It was as if another self was standing in front of Nietzsche. He spoke to 'him' seriously while lost in fantasy.

"So if he was the knife in the Quidditch incident, then who was the thief?"

"Good question!" Nietzsche waved his magic wand, moved two chairs over, and placed the empty one opposite him. "In fact, the thief is the hand that drives the professor's knife."

How could a thoughtful professor tolerate the stench of a troll? This was clearly a signal.

Nietzsche later distinguished the difference between dragon dung and troll in herbology class. Quirrell was indeed lying that day, or rather, he was deliberately reminding others in a certain way.

So the one who is most in danger now is Qi Luo...

"You can try to communicate with him."

"There's no way to communicate. Professor Quirrell doesn't want me to be contaminated by the curse, which means that in his opinion the curse is contagious, and contagion means that he may be monitored. Once direct communication occurs, the curse will spread."

He was deliberately avoiding it, and the so-called physical weakness should be a side effect of some kind of control method.

"The perfect answer is right in front of you! There's still time!"

The next day, Nietzsche ran to the third floor with a note.

The above list is the desserts he asked about from others. Nietzsche said dozens of names to the ugly gargoyle statue until he said "cockroach pile" and the statue gave way.

Nietzsche rubbed his eyes, but his spirit was unusually excited.

"headmaster!"

"Eh? Why are you here?" Dumbledore didn't even have time to change out of his pajamas. "If I remember correctly, today is Sunday. Slytherin doesn't have early classes on weekends."

"It's Professor Quirrell, he's in danger!"

Nietzsche walked straight over, grabbed the water on the table and took a sip.

He repeated the entire reasoning process at a very fast speed, from the professor's abnormal behavior at the beginning to the triple relationship between the dark wizard, Gringotts, and Quirrell.

Dumbledore's lips were slightly open, like a trance-like old man, and he groaned in his throat. Nietzsche once thought that the headmaster had fallen asleep while standing.

"So, you think there is a dark wizard left over from the magic war who is threatening Quirrell with some kind of curse." Dumbledore said suddenly, "That makes sense... No wonder he wants to steal that thing."

But the principal's focus is completely different from what Nietzsche saw.

This made Nietzsche feel depressed. He was already irritable because of not sleeping all night, so he didn't care about his identity as a student and spoke in a louder voice.

"I think the one we should focus on now is Quirrell, sir! I don't care what kind of gold Galleons are buried there, or what relics are related to Nico Flamel, these things are not as important as a life!"

"Mr. Holmes... I don't know how you know this, but what I am protecting is life. Strictly speaking, it should be a precious opportunity."

This is why Nietzsche was tired of it. The old principal just liked to tell riddles.

The Riddler, get out of Hogwarts...Ah, no, Hogwarts originally belonged to this Riddler.

"What do you mean?"

"Let me be frank. If what you say is true, then Professor Quirrell is in more than just danger."

Dumbledore figured out what had happened after listening to Nietzsche's description, and his expression was full of sadness, and the meaning was self-evident - he was powerless.

"Principal, if you still acknowledge the relationship between us, you might as well make it clear."

Nietzsche's heartbeat quickened due to staying up all night and his emotions, he put his hands on the table to prevent himself from falling, and his questioning also woke up the portraits on the wall, and many principals opened their eyes with cursing.

But his attention now was all focused on Dumbledore.

"Wrong time, wrong place, wrong person, that's the birth of tragedy."

"My purpose in handling cases has never been to uncover tragedy, but to prevent it!"

Volume 1: Chapter 48 He will compete with the god of death

The relatives and friends of the Holmes family are more or less stubborn about certain things.

Nietzsche is no exception. He is not stubbornly trying to catch the director of the tragedy, but wants to prevent the tragedy from happening. In this respect, Nietzsche is very different from Shylock, especially after he discovered the "magic".

The eleven-year-old student ignored the reproaches of the other portraits and the invisible rules, and stared straight at Dumbledore.

In the end, the old principal lost his temper and realized that he had lost to Nietzsche in terms of "persistence".

"Okay, I totally agree with your reasoning, but it's not completely correct because of some missing information. However, the two of us need to put our conclusions together."

Dumbledore walked up to him, helped him sit on his chair, with more love and admiration in his eyes.

"Hey! That's the principal's chair!" one of the portraits shouted.

Nietzsche looked over there and saw that the gloomy old man sitting on the luxurious soft chair was Phineas Nigellus Black.

Opposite the cabinet full of portraits of the principal, there is a huge mirror next to the black cabinet, but it is temporarily covered by gauze, revealing only the edges and the golden top.

It is engraved with:

'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohs i'

Turn it upside down and it becomes a complete sentence: What I show you is not your face, but desire.

Then Dumbledore's voice drew him over.

"When did it start? Let's start from when Quirinus quit Muggle Studies and went to the Albanian forest." Dumbledore waved his hand to lower the curtain, blocking the portrait. "Relax, just listen carefully."

That was when Quirrell, full of theories, took action to obtain first-hand practical information about the dark arts for his new position.

Then, Dumbledore pulled out a Muggle newspaper from the drawer. It was the Tirana Daily in southeastern Europe, dated around 1990. The news described the sudden death of a large number of animals in the forest.

Nietzsche had seen this report before, and because of it, there was a wave of calls for wildlife protection laws at that time.

"And Quirinus is an expert in Muggle Studies, so he naturally saw the news. He plans to go there to deal with some dark creatures or...dark wizards who absorb life."

"So he was threatened at that time?" Nietzsche responded quickly.

"Yes, and that person is just as you deduced - the dark wizard in the last war is far more dangerous than ordinary dark wizards."

In the wizarding world, the only ones more feared and loathed than dark wizards are the Death Eaters as described by Ron Weasley. They believe in the creed of absolute pure blood and high and low status, so most of them are half-bloods and pure-bloods from big families.

Almost all Death Eaters were Slytherins, which led to Slytherin's reputation being extremely bad before Nietzsche came.

"As I said, we have no choice but to let fate push us forward, child." Dumbledore took off his glasses and wiped them with his sleeves. "And Quirinus is no different from those animals now."

The old man lowered his head, his eyelashes trembling slightly, but he still did not show any fragile expression.

It was as if he had seen too much in his life, so that Nietzsche felt a little indifferent. It was a self-protection mechanism when people were helpless, a temporary escape.

"Hagrid is an honest man. He was just showing off to me how many great people his elders knew... If the treasure left by Headmaster Dumbledore and Nick Flamel is a second chance, then there is still a way."

Nietzsche suddenly calmed down, contrary to his previous anxiety.

According to the headmaster's description, what Nick Flamel left behind was a chance for a second life. That kind of puzzle was already very simple. No matter what it was, this was the goal of the dark wizard and also Quirrell's own opportunity.

"you mean...

"If you want, you can leave this opportunity to him."

"Actually, it's not entirely accurate to call it a relic, because the owner of the treasure is not dead yet, but he's almost dead." Dumbledore pondered for a moment, "I need to discuss this with Nico Flamel."