Hermione, let's start the revolution at Hogwarts

"You should have done this a long time ago." Ron said with his head held high, "Believe me, none of Malfoy's are good..."

Hermione glanced at him but didn't refute. This was considered progress. At least Ron had evolved from "all Slytherins are bad" to only targeting the other part. At least he was willing to play chess with Slytherins.

Although he also enjoyed the thrill of winning against a Slytherin student.

"Enjoy it. At least you don't have to be too fussy." Nietzsche patted Nott's shoulder and said with a smile, "Maybe soon, Harry, you won't have to worry about being knocked down by someone intentionally."

In the auditorium which also serves as a study room, they have become a real sight.

Even the Ravenclaw students were surprised. It was the first time they saw Slytherin and Gryffindor sitting together for more than five minutes without any conflict... No, there was some...

Ron Weasley and Slytherin would always have a war of words before playing chess. In their words, this was called momentum.

"So are you planning to go back for Christmas?" Harry Potter smiled happily. He had just finished chatting about the Quidditch match with a little snake.

"Of course I have to go back. I hope those people won't block my way."

Her face was fuller than when Nietzsche first saw her, and her hair was cut shorter, making her look very energetic. When she heard the Slytherins talking about those expensive flying brooms, her emerald eyes were full of curiosity.

For him, perhaps real campus life has just begun.

Volume 1: Chapter 50: The Nightmare Before Christmas (Part 1)

By mid-December, everyone is looking forward to the holidays.

As Christmas approaches, the school looks even more magnificent. The cold wind blowing through the corridor makes the potted fir trees on the wall sway back and forth, causing a lot of trouble for the students in each class.

These decorations were dug out by Hagrid from the Forbidden Forest and then moved into the school.

Draco's mood was getting worse day by day. Looking at the hostile and disgusted eyes of the half-bloods and Muggles was more painful than being laughed at by Harry. He would rather watch the Slytherin team lose again.

Marcus planned to make another big move. He planned to wait until Nietzsche left the campus and waited for the express train on the Hogsmeade platform.

"Don't worry, I guarantee you won't be expelled. At most you'll be held back one more grade." Draco vowed.

In a Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Quirrell was stumbling over what "fighting fire with fire" meant in the classroom. When he turned around, Draco, who was sitting in the back row, used a levitation spell to control a snowball and threw it at him.

He found it by the window in the corridor before class.

Because the snowballs are packed tightly, they hurt more than ordinary snowballs when they fall from the air.

Professor Quirrell was looking at the blackboard and writing something with chalk when he suddenly felt a pain in the back of his head that immediately spread to his chest, causing a sharp pain. He covered his dented turban and turned his head away angrily.

"Who?!"

"Sorry, Professor..." The two followers beside Malfoy snickered, "It seems that a vampire is attacking you secretly. Maybe your garlic smell is not strong enough."

He thought everyone would laugh at his joke like they did before, but... not everything remains unchanged, things are always moving, so no one found his joke funny this time.

One third of the Slytherins just glanced at him, while the other third didn't even turn their heads.

"It is indeed a vampire, professor," Nietzsche said calmly. "I can testify to this. Perhaps garlic alone is not enough. Only by throwing the vampire into the sunlight can it be cured."

"That... makes sense~" Quirrell walked down from the podium.

Nietzsche was sitting in the front row, so the professor's eyes were angry and hesitant at first, and he walked very slowly. But after he walked past the first three rows, his eyes immediately became terrifying, completely different from before.

Draco Malfoy had only seen this kind of look once.

The only time was when Snape put him in detention for the first time. Maybe it was even more terrifying than Dean Snape's, as if it wanted to peel off a layer of skin from him.

"At worst, I'll just deduct...points..."

"Deduction?" Quirrell's left hand fell on his thigh, his thumb and middle finger tapping rhythmically, anger flowing down his arm and gushing out from his fingertips. "I...I think vampires shouldn't be...afraid of deduction."

In this way, the professor still tried his best to keep smiling.

He didn't even draw out his wand, but just raised his hand, and Draco was lifted up by the magic. This familiar scene made him start to struggle, but how could physical resistance resist magic.

Quirrell waved his hand and threw Draco out of the classroom window.

"Puch~"

After everyone heard the sound of Draco being thrown into the snowdrift, Quirrell snapped his fingers and repaired the broken glass.

A silent and wandless spell paralyzed Goyle, Crabbe and the others, and the rest of them immediately sat up straight, staring at the blackboard, as if a good student didn't want to miss any knowledge.

After doing all this, Quirrell came to his senses and walked back to the podium with his head down.

Wait until Friday, that’s when the fun starts!

After the last Potions class before the holiday, there was a Christmas party in the evening. The fir trees in the corridor were hung with colorful balls and upside-down icicles, and the hall was hung with wreaths made of mistletoe.

When Hermione passed by, she took one look and ran away immediately.

In the corners covered with mistletoe, there were several pairs of wizards hugging underneath... Is this something she can see? Is this something she should see at her age?

“Now, we celebrate not tomorrow’s departure, but the arrival of a new one.”

Dumbledore, wearing a purple wizard robe, stood in the middle of the seats, raised his glass to the students below, and deliberately shook it in the direction of Slytherin and Gryffindor.

Nietzsche looked upward and shook the glass filled with pumpkin juice in the same way.

Scones, mushrooms, and roasted turkey are all essential Christmas foods. Although not as good as those at the beginning of the school year, they are not bad either. At least the roast turkey is covered with sauce, so it doesn't taste so dry.

Halfway through the party, everyone was having a great time.

"Butterbeer, anyone?" The Weasley brothers ran to everyone and shouted secretly, "We only charge five knuts for our hard work, and you can get a full glass of beer from the Hog's Head Inn."

Only Quirrell couldn't fit in. He sat between Flitwick and Professor Snape, smiling a little reluctantly.

"You'll definitely achieve great things... You'll definitely achieve great things!" Flitwick shouted at the top of his lungs, his beard stained with brandy. "If you continue to develop like Nietzsche, you'll surpass me in no time!"

The Head of Ravenclaw would shout at Professor McGonagall from time to time, as if to show off: Ravenclaw is the best.

Flitwick, drunk, acted more like an elder than a colleague in front of Quirrell. He patted Quirrell's shoulder, muttered something inaudible, and then buried his face in a plate full of chicken bones.

Once the headmaster fell, he and Snape were left staring at each other.

"I heard you were in class..."

"I'll go out and get some fresh air first." Quirrell said with a wry smile before he could finish his words.

After helping Dean Flitwick up, he lowered his head and immediately walked out of the hall without looking back. When he reached the door, he turned back to look at the students who were playing, which made Quirrell's back look even more lonely.

The professor walked to the center of the hall and was shivered by the draft.

"How did you get out?"

"Then why did you come out too?" Nietzsche answered the question with a question.

The two walked to the gate one after the other, the gray landscape unfolding before them, and the laughter and fire behind them.

"I..I came out to get some fresh air."

"What a coincidence, me too." Nietzsche stood on tiptoe and looked into the distance, "By the way, I'll take care of the terrain so that I won't be chased away by others... If I'm sent back petrified, I'll be laughed at."

Quirrell thought silently at first, then suddenly laughed.

"Well, I'm also preparing to leave. You know, Snape still wants to... want to settle the score with me."

"It was Malfoy who made the mistake first. He always defends others when he shouldn't."

"Yeah, every time..." Quirrell thought of his childhood, with some resentment in his eyes, "Do you know why I want to learn the Dark Arts? It's because the professors always protect their shortcomings and smooth things over."

People are not born good or bad.

A person's character is related to the movement of surrounding things and the general environment, and what prompted Quirrell to be interested in Dark Defense was naturally related to these, and then he studied it in depth from a scholar's perspective.

"Aren't all Ravenclaws seen as nerds by others?" Nietzsche had no scruples in front of him.

Quirrell was amused, but if someone else had said this, he wouldn't have bothered to refute it.

"Haha, although that's true, every college has its own problems. In addition to the cold violence and exclusion, Ravenclaw also has a clown who likes to attract attention... But I don't blame the dean, after all, everyone is like this."

"Should I hate the dean? Obviously not. He doesn't even know that he did anything wrong."

This is the problem with Hogwarts. It is helpless when the old professors still treat education in the way of the last century, because they do not realize that the situation of wizards today is different from the past.

In the past, wizards were hunted and ostracized by the Muggle Church, so the professors in the school would try to smooth over the conflicts between students to some extent, thinking it is better to have less trouble than more.

Or just protect it to the end...

"That's why I strongly advocate that wizards re-evaluate everything." Nietzsche did not refute, but could empathize with him. "At least, I don't have to worry about being fired here."

Quirrell walked back toward the marble staircase, but suddenly stopped on the middle landing.

"What do you think of me...what do you think of me as a professor?" He leaned on the armrest, hesitating for a long time and speaking in a drawling tone.

But Nietzsche did not answer. He turned around and walked towards the auditorium. He planned to fill his stomach because he had to sleep for a night on the train. He yawned with his hand covering his mouth and waved goodbye to Quirrell.

"Merry Christmas, remember to sign for your presents tomorrow morning~"

Volume 1: Chapter 51: The Nightmare Before Christmas (Part 2)

When leaving school, Nietzsche pulled Hermione to slide across the ice of the Black Lake for fun.

Hermione had poor balance and her feet would slip after every two steps, so she simply grabbed Nietzsche's clothes and put her hands on his shoulders. From the perspective of others, the girl was the sled being pulled.

"Lumos"

"It's only lit up like this, look at me." Nietzsche turned his head and looked at the fluorescent light behind him, "Lumos Duo (enhanced? Fluorescent flashing)"

There were only two of them on the entire ice surface. From a distance, they looked like two children waving fireworks sticks.

"Oh, really?" Hermione's competitive spirit was ignited, and she threw her wand unconvincedly, "Lumos Masima (Extremely strong? Fluorescent flashing)... Hehehe, sorry, I'm one point ahead in the Charms class."

Noticing that Nietzsche didn't move for a long time, Hermione finally smiled.

What a joke! She spends every day in the library just to sleep on the table like those little lions?

But to be honest, the atmosphere in the library is really sleep-inducing... It's quiet, and there's the natural sound of turning pages as white noise. No wonder many Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs feel sleepy while sitting there.

"Do you know what wizards need to pay attention to when casting illumination spells?"

"Don't accidentally set your wand on fire." Hermione could almost recite everything Professor Flitwick said in class. "Why? Don't really burn your wand just to show off."

"For wizards, in the dark ages, light was such a rare thing. Therefore, the wizards created this spell from 'Sol', so there are higher-level advanced spells."

Hermione thought about it and realized that she had never heard Professor Flitwick have any in-depth knowledge of the Illuminating Charm.

"Did I... miss the point of Professor Binns? Or did he tell you privately..."

"Of course not. How could Little McGregor, the favorite of the Charms and Transfiguration professor, know about my and Quirrell's research?" Nietzsche cleared his throat and held his breath, "Lumos Solem (The sun is as bright as day)!"

In fact, language itself is a kind of symbol.

When people say a word, their subconscious mind immediately makes associations, and this is the connection between wizards and language.

In the center of the Black Lake, a ball of silvery-white sunlight suddenly emerged, dispelling the surrounding darkness and making the withered ivy in the depths of the darkness clearly visible. This light even dispelled the cold.

Molecules at the microscopic level begin to rub against each other under the influence of magic, causing the energy of light to manifest in the form of heat.

"Sorry, I'm probably ahead in Charms..."

"No, no, no, that doesn't count. The most it should be one point for Defense Against the Dark Arts!" Hermione squinted her eyes. The white light for a moment made her start to feel a little distorted.

After the two of them were playing around, it took nearly an hour before they saw the lights of the station.

The Hogwarts Express stopped at the Hogsmeade platform. Orange lights shone from the windows, casting one orange square after another on the white snow.

But Nietzsche noticed the footprints on the edge of the platform, and several of them were walking towards the edge, with the toes of the shoes pointing towards the woods outside the platform rather than towards the train door, so he turned around, grabbed Hermione's hand, and pulled her into his arms.

"So what? My Potions knowledge will always be better than yours..." The girl was confused.

What happened to this person? He was talking fine, but suddenly... why did he suddenly become like this?

"You may not have noticed, but just now at the four o'clock direction, there was a shadow of white gas moving in our lighting spell... and there were several sets of footsteps, one on the platform, one in the birch forest, and one on the edge of the wall. That's the hiding spot."

Nietzsche rested his chin on Hermione's shoulder, with only a wool scarf between his ears and hers.

"It's really haunting you." The girl looked at the points he mentioned one by one and exhaled a puff of white air.

"Calm down. When the other person raises his hand, the elbow and waist of the clothes will rub against each other..."

Hermione hid her wand at his side, and when she heard soft whispers and the rubbing of cloth in the darkness, she immediately used Transfiguration to make the snow piles come alive, stacking them up layer by layer to form a wall.

"They fainted!" "They were all petrified~" "They couldn't stop crying!"

At the same time, several spells flew out from the woods and hit the wall made of snow bricks.

Nietzsche was like a World War II veteran, hiding in a trench made of snow. Facing the enemy's attack, he just stuffed a licorice stick into his mouth in a panic and looked up at the starry sky.

"What now?" Hermione slapped the snow that had splattered into her curls.