Hermione, let's start the revolution at Hogwarts

Of course the Ministry of Magic would not be so casual---Nietzsche thought to himself.

"Unfortunately, this is related to his past criminal record, and the Ministry of Magic is in urgent need of a scapegoat." Dumbledore leaned forward slightly and looked at them.

But this was within Nietzsche's expectations.

If Lucius wanted to bring down Dumbledore, he would definitely start with the people around him. He first directed a "Chamber of Secrets Attack" and then used the attacked Muggle students as a means of attack.

"The first time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, was it related to Hagrid?" Nietzsche quickly guessed the answer.

"That's right..." Dumbledore added immediately, "But it wasn't Hagrid who opened it. He was framed and will be taken away by the Ministry of Magic during the Christmas holidays. Minerva won't be able to hold on for much longer."

Hermione was acutely aware that the attacks would continue, and would last until the students were sent home.

But once this was done, Hogwarts would return to being unattended, and thinking of the worst possible scenario, Lucius would be elected by the board of directors and become the headmaster of Hogwarts.

"I've been discussing this with Hagrid and the centaurs these days...because Hagrid is very afraid of going to Azkaban, and the centaurs don't want the Ministry of Magic to send a newcomer to the Forbidden Forest." said the headmaster.

"Fudge would rather trust a former Death Eater than you?" said Hermione disappointedly.

"In fact... he is not unwilling to believe, but afraid." Dumbledore sighed, "He always has a way to justify himself, called 'balance', and Lucius can give him a sense of security."

Nietzsche knew what Lucius's motive was - he wanted to regain his foothold in the wizarding world and suppress the pro-Muggle faction led by Dumbledore.

"And what is Fudge's attitude towards the Muggle Protection Act?" he said.

"Because of the tough attitude of the Muggles last year, he does not want to add unnecessary work to the Ministry of Magic." Dumbledore explained, "But if Lucius wants to completely destroy this law, he will definitely discredit Arthur."

But how can the Chamber of Secrets attack be pinned on Arthur Weasley?

Oh, right, Polyjuice Potion... Hermione reacted almost instantly. It was obvious that the person Draco had turned into must be a Weasley. Then he could use his advantage of the right to speak to discredit him:

Look, Arthur Weasley, who wrote the Muggle Protection Act, is actually murdering Muggles, so there must be something wrong with this law!

"Headmaster, do you think Lucius would let his son do this?" Hermione tried to express it as tactfully as possible.

"I'll keep an eye on it." Dumbledore looked at the clock on the wall, then waved his hand and said, "Well, I haven't really left school. If you need help, Hogwarts will not refuse you."

However, this was the last conversation before Christmas.

After the end of the first half of the semester, everyone rushed back to their homes without stopping. No Muggle or half-blood wizard was willing to stay in school. They walked through the thick snow and stayed away from the castle shrouded in fear.

Needless to say, Harry didn't want to go back to the Dursleys and planned to go to Hagrid to ask for more details.

Dean Cedric intends to stay in the school and unconditionally assist the deans in their work.

This year's Christmas was as cold as usual, but Hermione could at least spend it with her parents...unlike Nietzsche, who didn't know where he was when he woke up, but felt as if his head was hit by a stick and it hurt badly.

He did not spend Christmas Eve with the Watsons. To be more precise, he refused.

"Merry Christmas." Quirrell was wrapped in a wool blanket and tying a gift box on the owl's back with a rope.

He just felt his mouth was very dry, and then he poured some water from the teapot on the ground into his mouth, but it turned out to be hot whiskey. Nietzsche choked and sprayed the wine out like a shower head.

"When I came back last night, I remember being...at home," he said slurringly.

"Yes, but then you said Sherlock was out on a case and you were bored at home alone." Quirinus threw a gift box at his feet, "and then you just started drinking by yourself."

Nietzsche had his back to the morning sun, but as soon as he turned over, he saw two guests on the sofa - one of them was Moriarty.

He subconsciously grabbed the wand, but the man in the beige hat was faster. He pulled out a beautifully crafted gun with a barrel about twenty inches long from his waist. It had no magazine and looked like a crude movie prop.

The only thing worth noting is that there are a lot of strange runes and Latin inscriptions on it:

'Impedimenta'

"Dear Mr. Wizard." He leaned against the armrest of the sofa and said, "Is this too offensive?"

"Moran~" Moriarty cleared his throat, stood up, took a blanket and covered Nietzsche's shoulders, "Pay attention to your manners, we are guests now... Be careful not to catch a cold, child."

"Sorry, sir." Moran glanced at Quirrell at the windowsill and obediently put down his weapon.

uninvited guest.

Wait a minute, Nietzsche felt that he was also a guest in this room.

He was not surprised by Moriarty's arrival. After all, he had been paying attention to him from the beginning. However, he was unsure about the other party's intention. Nietzsche held the wool blanket on his shoulders and hid his emotions.

"I asked the Prime Minister to invest in these cutting-edge weapons of the future," Moriarty introduced them to the boy considerately.

"Hehe...war profits?" Nietzsche said as he turned his head to look behind him.

But Qi Luo just nodded quietly, helped him sit on the sofa, snapped his fingers, cleaned the stains on the floor, and then replaced the whiskey in the pot with black tea.

The whole situation is intriguing: Nietzsche and Moriarty sit opposite each other, while Moran and Quirrell stand opposite each other.

"I don't think I can get Professor Moriarty, who just finished his lecture tour, to make a special trip here." Nietzsche couldn't help but start making all kinds of guesses in his mind.

How is Hermione Granger doing?

Is the other party here for cooperation or to warn Malfoy?

But the only thing that is certain is that Moriarty did not come to find Quirrell. A man as self-confident as him would never resort to servile means to win cooperation after Quirrell refused.

"I just need an attitude." Moriarty took a sip of tea and moistened his throat before saying, "About the relationship between wizards and Muggles... You know, I have never liked those wizards. They are no different from goldfish."

Nietzsche rolled his eyes inwardly.

What goldfish? Moriarty just felt that some wizards looked down on Muggles, which was equivalent to looking down on him. That extraordinary arrogance was deeply engraved in all his actions.

It was as if Sherlock Holmes had been blocking him for so long, but he never thought of killing him, just because of that special respect.

"If you mean some former Death Eater, I don't care." Nietzsche said wearily, slumped in the sofa.

Perhaps this answer satisfied Moriarty, because he laughed a few times.

"You know why I admire you more than Sherlock?" Moriarty said, "You understand those meaningful 'sacrifices' instead of staring at those rules all day long... You can't do this, you can't do that."

Nietzsche just nodded perfunctorily and crossed his legs without any manners.

"But at least I won't escalate the conflict by assassinating an innocent justice."

"Wrong~" Moriarty said righteously, "It's not innocent. In many worlds with power structures, you don't see the rituals of those people... They make a girl pregnant and claim it is a miracle."

Although Nietzsche appeared listless, he was actually wavering inside.

The rift came from his misunderstanding of the world, because he was not as obsessed with the truth as Sherlock, and everything in Moriarty's mouth seemed like just two dogs fighting over meat at the door.

Nietzsche actually felt for a moment that some people would be better off dead.

"How do I know if you're lying..."

"Then you can ask your father. After all, the Temple has entrusted him with this before." Moriarty forced a kind smile. "Even if you don't do this for yourself, you should think about it for your friends, right?"

Nietzsche glanced at the strange-shaped gun in Moran's hand and felt puzzled.

This is enough to prove the British government's attitude towards the war, and all Moriarty needs is his attitude...his attitude towards those wizards, or more generally speaking, the professor hopes he has a clear position.

Muggle or wizard?

Judging from Moriarty's attitude alone, Nietzsche had no reason to deliberately go against him. After all, who wouldn't like to see rivers of blood in the old world?

"Sir, the opera is about to begin." Moran bent down and said in a low voice.

As the professor stood up and prepared to leave for lunch, Moran placed the gun on the table.

"Keep it. Consider it my Christmas present." Moriarty put on his black top hat, while Moran covered his back.

The Muggle Protection Act clearly stipulates that wizards are not allowed to use magic in front of Muggles, let alone modify their magic without permission. This precious "gift" is the Muggles' preparation for war.

At the same time, it was the Muggles who unilaterally broke the Muggle Protection Act.

"Is this your masterpiece?" Nietzsche watched it being put into the box.

"Not only me, but also the machines!" Quirrell said excitedly, "In just one night, countless models can be produced... Fortunately, Muggles can't do magic. Without my magic, it's just a toy."

But Nietzsche felt differently.

What kind of sparks will be created when industrialized, mass-produced models collide with the hands of wizards?

He finally understood Moriarty's motives a little: in the larger and more uncontrollable future, a semi-finished product alone would be enough to upgrade the entire police equipment and even affect certain regulations.

But Nietzsche also overlooked the darkest possibility - a bloodier and more one-sided war.

Volume 1: Chapter 109: Rita who only wants big news

In the dirty and messy Leaky Cauldron, wizards gather here even during the Christmas holidays.

Hannah used a rag to wipe away the remaining foam traces on the wooden table and used a broom to sweep away the broken ice and snow brought in from the door. At this time, she suddenly discovered a figure that was somewhat out of tune with the people around her.

The woman was stroking her wavy golden hair and looking towards the door from time to time.

"Miss, would you like something to drink?" Hannah asked her.

"A glass of sherry, on the rocks." The woman pushed her jeweled glasses gracefully, then suddenly changed her words, "Oh, and a glass of butter beer..."

Hannah had never seen such a socialite-like woman in the Leaky Cauldron. Most of the rich people like them went to the teahouse in Hogsmeade village instead of enduring the noisy wizards in Diagon Alley who were getting off work.

But Hannah soon found out who she was waiting for.

Nietzsche, who came from Charing Cross Road, quickly found the agreed seat in the pub.

"Come here...Mr. Holmes, many publishers have taken a fancy to your biography." Rita looked at Nietzsche shrewdly, and then said, "But I'm curious about how you suddenly remembered the founder of Slytherin."

This is of course very important, because Salazar Slytherin is almost equivalent to the ancestor of dark wizards in the wizarding world.

Few people are willing to get involved in such bad luck, not to mention that it is about Slytherin...that group of graduating venomous snakes, no one knows what kind of person they will become, if they are targeted, they will be doomed.

"Ms. Skeeter, the founder of Slytherin was not the despicable Herpo, and I need everyone to know this," Nietzsche said calmly.

When he took the hot butterbeer, he was surprised to find Hannah Abbott acting as a waitress.

"You mean the fact about dark wizards?" Rita took out a shorthand quill from her bosom and automatically wrote on the small notebook, "I'm sorry... After all, there are some things that even many Slytherins themselves think so..."

But Rita held the book upright, so Nietzsche could only see the earthy brown cover.

The other party seemed to be just making a simple record. As a person working in a publishing house, he asked very tricky questions and hit the nail on the head, which saved Nietzsche a lot of polite words.

"What facts?" Nietzsche asked rhetorically.

"Well..." Rita looked at him carefully for a few times, and after finding that he didn't show any anger, she continued, "It's about dark wizards, insidious, cunning, and so on. It seems that you are in a hurry to whitewash Slytherin."

The adjectives she mentioned were the first impressions of Slytherin in the wizarding world.

But Nietzsche gave her a completely different feeling, as if he hated the former Slytherin.

"Whitewash? Sorry, I've never thought about it that way. I only care about those wizards who don't need whitewashing." Nietzsche denied her point of view.

The quill was writing back and forth on the paper about 'Chamber of Secrets', 'Heir of Slytherin', and 'Dumbledore', and now a new name was added.

Rita's shorthand quill suddenly stopped, and then she closed the notebook with one hand, and used her fingers painted with bright red nail polish to comb her curly hair, very impatiently.

Finally, she turned the topic back to the book.

"How about Flourish and Blotts?" Rita changed her tone and became a vendor again. "In fact... the biography should be published in an academic journal first, but I personally think that only the bookstore in Diagon Alley will accept it."

"Is it because of Lockhart's recommendation?" Nietzsche asked.

"No, it has nothing to do with him, it's just... if you look at it from an academic perspective, you'll be scolded to death by those old guys who study the history of magic."

Of course, Nietzsche wrote Salazar Slytherin as a man full of ideals who wanted to bring the "light" in him to other wizards. How could this be possible? It does not conform to their "research" on Salazar.

Even if Nietzsche wrote Professor Binns' name on the cover, it would still be useless.

What say does an old ghost who can only move around in Hogwarts have?

"But the most important issue now is..." Rita took a sip of sherry, feeling the sweet and sour taste of the grapes spreading in her mouth, while rubbing her hands carefully, looking very embarrassed.

How could Nietzsche not understand what was going on?

"Don't worry about the money. Just name a number."

"Five hundred gold galleons~"

"Pfft...cough cough!"

Because of her wide mouth, Nietzsche choked on the butterbeer for a long time, and some yellow foam was on his nose.

You have to know that with the purchasing power of gold galleons in the wizarding world, this is enough for an ordinary wizard to use for a year. After all, wizards' things often do not need to be replaced several times a year, and there is no need to worry about food shortages.

The last thing wizards need to worry about is food, as they have ten thousand ways to ripen animals and plants.

"I'm not just talking about producing a finished book, but also about promoting it... and putting it on the shelf..." Rita covered her chest and sighed, "It's not enough to just write it. There are many ways to do it."

She has been short of money lately and can't find anything worth selling, otherwise she wouldn't bother with such things.

Only after seeing Nietzsche grit his teeth and agree did Rita Skeeter relax. She had always been worried that the other party would give up because of the price. After all, he was just a student.