Hermione, let's start the revolution at Hogwarts

"Really?" Hermione hooked her arms around his neck and slowly moved her head closer, "Don't you hate following rules?"

"I just hate being stuck in a rut, there's a difference... I don't mind sticking to the rules when the new world comes."

What he pursues is not just chaotic freedom, but a complete, beautiful world that is infinitely closer to utopia. Rules are necessary, but they are by no means pedantic.

This 'love' is not just that he likes a girl, but that she has melted into his life and become a part of him.

Just like the head of a rune snake, the 'critic' with fangs on the far right is used to threaten 'fantasists' and 'planners'... Uncontrolled fantasies and plans will only follow the footsteps of pure blood. .

When there was only a finger's width between their heads, he smelled a scent.

"You drank too?" he said in surprise.

The next second, Hermione let out a few lazy chuckles and put a finger to his lips.

"To be precise, it should be liqueur chocolate... Ginny said this can help me relieve the pressure of the opening dance." She chuckled, "I'm glad I have a pair of fangs, dear, you can do it tonight Gave me a surprise.”

Nietzsche thought drowsily: What kind of plate of wine-filled chocolate could make Hermione so drunk?

But what should he do next?

The magic was completed, he understood what Hermione meant to him, and realized the connection with the Patronus Charm, but...then what?

But he doesn't need to know that much, because his brain won't give him time to think. His thinking is as slow as a gear without oil. As long as he doesn't deliberately turn it, it will stop automatically.

"It always makes sense...You always make sense...Indeed, you and I are not at odds. I'm very happy..." Her voice became weaker and weaker.

All the combinations of words had been exhausted, they combined magic and consciousness to give birth to their own love, and they no longer had to be alone -

Then, Hermione's fangs bit into Nietzsche's tongue.

The surrounding environment was cold and quiet, but their hearts were warm at this moment, just like her mouth.

Different from brandy, Hermione's liqueur chocolate is...apricot flavored.

Chapter 247 First Blood, But Nietzsche

On Christmas Eve, there was a person who waited for Nietzsche and Hermione to run out of the auditorium, quietly walked through the pleasant white smoke, and came to the crowd to inquire...

That's right, Rita Skeeter isn't satisfied with her last interview.

You must know that the last volume of "The Daily Prophet" about Hermione Granger's interview broke the previous sales volume. In order to get rich gold galleons, she decided to take risks and discover something more interesting.

And the dance party has always been full of these things...

Rita used her own method to wander among the crowd, and she saw a drunk Hagrid and Mrs. Maxim sitting on a stone chair in the courtyard chatting.

Then, she heard Hagrid say: "I knew...you are just like me, right? Since my mother left when I was three years old, I have never seen another person."

Interestingly, the professor at Hogwarts seems to have a good relationship with the principal at Beauxbatons.

"I don't understand what you are talking about." Mrs. Maxim's originally smiling face suddenly turned cold.

"You and I are both hybrid giants!" Hagrid said bluntly.

"I just... just have a bigger frame. You are insulting me!" Principal Beauxbatons shouted in a sharp voice, then pushed aside the frost-covered rose bushes and left angrily.

look! Wouldn’t the perfect inspiration be delivered right to your door?

But Hagrid...Rita didn't think her readers would be interested in a little-known magical zoology professor who had just completed his term of office for one year. Those picky readers were just like her, and they had long been dissatisfied with these. .

They crave something richer and more emotionally stimulating...

Looking at Mrs. Maxim's angry back, Rita Skeeter suddenly thought of several good ideas.

On the second day of Christmas, Nietzsche woke up very late. He didn't know what time it was, but when he turned over as usual, he found that the sheets under him were hard and not soft at all.

On the floor - Nietzsche's aching head turned slowly.

And it's not the floor of the Slytherin dormitory, because there is no cut newspaper on the floor, but a layer of wool carpet.

"Hiss~~" Nietzsche was about to sigh a few words when he felt a burning pain on his lips. He covered his mouth, becoming even more worried about the current situation.

He forced his eyes open and found that he was lying on the ground, and the first thing he saw was an arm hanging down from the side of the bed.

'What happened last night? Hermione...hiss...she bit her a little too hard...' Nietzsche looked at the smooth lotus-rooted arms in fear, and backed away while holding on to the floor.

At this time, he subconsciously pulled on the thin blanket on his body, as uneasy as a girl who had been violated.

"Dear~" Hermione had gotten up early, and she was lying on the pillow with her head sideways, biting her lower lip with her teeth, and said slowly with a hint of charm and laziness in her tone, "Can you give me back my clothes? "

She stretched out, deliberately exposing her white shoulders from under the velvet quilt, and shook an empty portable wine bottle.

Nietzsche was in a trance for a moment, and when he lowered his head, he found that he was not covered with any quilt, but Hermione's light pink dress and white knee-high stockings.

Ah!!

He suddenly threw the clothes covering himself onto the bed, and then crawled back further.

Watson had not taught him how to do it, and Sherlock had not told him either, so he simply lowered his head and closed his eyes consciously.

"We are..."

"In the Room of Requirement." She seemed to have guessed what he would say.

Nietzsche's rare bewilderment was like a dessert placed on the bedside table for her.

"But you insisted on sleeping on the floor... It's a pity." Hermione slowly put on her clothes, and then asked, holding up the pair of white knee-high stockings, "By the way, you didn't do anything strange last night, did you?"

After hearing that he had not done anything illegal, Nietzsche was relieved, with some relief in his disappointment.

But... what is a strange thing? !

He opened his eyes angrily, and stood up unsteadily with the help of the bookshelf: "Yes, you'd better check if there are any traces, just wrap yourself in the quilt and go back."

"Heh~~ little brat." Hermione showed her contemptuous eyes without hiding.

When she pulled up the socks and pulled up her bent knees, Nietzsche could see the long legs full of toughness with a slight glance, like the hind legs of a fire dragon, which were very thin for the overall torso, but still strong.

He took a look, turned his head quickly, turned around and put the kettle on the fireplace, and then poured two cups of hot water.

Although it looks calm at the moment, as if everything is fine, when they walked out of the Room of Requirement, they were sneaky like thieves, and every time they turned a corner, they would stick their heads out to explore twice.

"The light of fairyland... the light of fairyland!" Hermione patted the portrait of the Fat Lady hard and crawled into the hole.

"Which one is it? It's so early in the morning. It's really worrying." The Fat Lady grumbled, and after opening the passage to the Gryffindor Common Room, she continued to sleep.

She planned to change her clothes. After all, the ball was over. It was impossible for her to drag this expensive dress around, right?

Nietzsche watched her go into the hole of the portrait. After the last touch of light red and the smell of apricots in the air disappeared, he turned and went downstairs... To be honest, he felt that Hermione had become a little strange:

It was as if the layer of paper between him and Hermione was broken, and she simply tore it off.

"Unfortunately... I actually walked into the grave on my own initiative." Nietzsche apologized to Sherlock in his heart.

He hugged Crookshanks, who had just run out of the Slater Hall Common Room, and scratched its ears on his own initiative. The Persian cat squinted his eyes in comfort. He and Crookshanks were in a good mood.

But this kind of relaxation, as if standing on the balcony and stretching in new pajamas on the first morning of the new year, disappeared after he came to the hall.

When the people at the Slytherin table saw Nietzsche sitting over, they all stared at him. Theodore and Warrington applauded first, and under their leadership, half of the people at the table started to applaud.

The sudden applause here made the others look over, and then they also applauded...

"What's wrong, is there a new curse popular in Hogwarts now?" Nietzsche licked the wound at the corner of his mouth while speaking.

If something really happened last night, the only thing he could be sure of was that it was his blood.

"You are really amazing!" Theodore put his thumb on his chest with a relieved smile on his face, "I didn't expect that you would catch up with Ravenclaw's Fawcett and Hufflepuff's Stebbins so quickly, you are worthy of being a top student..."

"Let me guess... There is only one truth, that is, you didn't go back to the dormitory last night!" Warrington shouted in surprise.

Qiu Zhang came over with Cedric's arm around her. She didn't say anything, but just quietly handed over a mirror.

Only then did Nietzsche know what happened: nearly ten bright red stamps were stamped on the corners of his mouth, face, and the place where he was bitten...

"Hermione! En!"

Chapter 248 Rita's exclusive news

(I wish you all a happy new year in advance~~)

Hermione changed, just overnight, like a different person - from the original cautiousness, to the later maturity and calmness, and now there is a little more agility in it...

In Nietzsche's heart, she is talented, and all other girls are eclipsed. She has a strong personality. When she dresses up, she has the face of the most beautiful woman, but if necessary, she has the most resolute heart.

And since the Christmas ball, he found that Hermione has another temperament that she rarely shows - gentleness.

You know, Hermione never did anything related to "affectionate" before, but during the Christmas holidays, when Nietzsche read the letters and gifts sent by his family, she would always prop her head up beside him and look straight at him.

"How are your parents after marriage?" Hermione's just right gentleness made it difficult for him to adapt.

"Without Sherlock, you're just like your parents." Nietzsche leaned to the side and covered his left face with the envelope as a precaution. "Do you know what you look like now?"

"An observer..."

"On the contrary, you look like a weirdo who has tasted the marrow and knows how to enjoy it."

It was not that he was afraid of gentleness, but that he was afraid of Hermione's adaptation. At first, she would blush a little, but after desensitization, she could even talk to her friends while doing some small movements that looked intimate to others.

It was not until the first day of the new semester that she calmed down a little.

Of course, it was not that she suddenly realized how absurd her gentle tone and posture were, but because of the intervention of another thing.

On Monday after the Christmas holiday, the snow on the grounds had not melted yet. In this cold and dry weather, no one was willing to step out of Hogwarts. They walked from the school gate to the warm room of the Herbology class.

But even so, Hogwarts welcomed several guests from the Ministry of Magic in the morning again, one of whom was Nietzsche's old acquaintance-Rufus Scrimgeour.

"Dear Headmaster Dumbledore... I am here to replace Barty Crouch... You know, he is not in good health, so it is inevitable that he will make mistakes." Scrimgeour said at the front door.

His voice was rough, but the volume was small, like a dozing lion.

Not only the Ministry of Magic was there, but also Hagrid and Madame Maxime, Headmaster Dumbledore, and students from Beauxbatons.

Nietzsche saw Fleur glaring at the Auror Director angrily.

"I can't believe it - a magical government would actually believe the nonsense in the newspaper!" She scolded sarcastically, completely ignoring her posture, "Do you think the headmaster would lie for... that reason?"

"No, of course not, but Minister Fudge must consider the reaction of the public." Scrimgeour bowed slightly apologetically.

"Ridiculous!"

Poor Percy was sandwiched between the Auror Director and the Headmaster of Beauxbatons, lowering his head until both parties fell into a brief silence, then he weakly raised his hand.

"But... I'm Mr. Crouch's assistant, and he asked me..."

"Percy Weasley, your information was sent to the Ministry of Magic for less than two months, and you were included in the Assistant Director of the Department of International Magical Affairs. This is obviously not in line with the process. I hope your father doesn't know about this."

He looked at Percy deeply, and the other party immediately became speechless.

The previous grand and ostentatious look was completely gone. He might have thought that he could replace Barty Crouch as one of the referees, but he was relieved of his post just after the Christmas holiday.

Hermione looked at the Ministry of Magic and Beauxbatons, which were gradually becoming antagonistic, with concern.

"Why did the Ministry of Magic suddenly feel that Madame Maxime was unfair?" As a warrior, she resolutely stood up and expressed her position.

Because of her support, Fleur's fists, which had been clenched in anger, slowly loosened, but she still looked at Dumbledore and Scrimgeour coldly, and together with other students, she was angry about the fate of her college.

Scrimgeour looked in the direction of the voice and saw Nietzsche standing next to Hermione at a glance.

"You are... Miss Granger? Right?" He paused, organized his words, and said simply, "The magic world attaches great importance to the Triwizard Tournament. Many people are not satisfied with the judge's judgment on you. The Ministry of Magic just compromised."

"What... What? Me?"

The most embarrassing thing is this. When she stood with her competitors full of justice and courage, she found that the other party was helping her.

So Madame Maxime and Fleur turned their angry eyes to the innocent Hermione.

"Ah... Maybe it's because the sales are too high. The latest "Daily Prophet" is still out of stock." Scrimgeour glanced at the students of Hogwarts, and then took out a folded newspaper from his arms.

Nietzsche pulled the newspaper swiftly, and just unfolded it, Hermione, Warrington, Harry and a group of people standing close gathered around.

There was a photo of Madame Maxime grading the first project on it. The expression on her face was a little lazy, and she was so calm that she seemed to be doing something insignificant.

The title is: "Dumbledore's Greatest Oversight"

The content below is even more ridiculous, as if Rita Skeeter is just a microphone for wizards:

This newspaper is an exclusive report by special correspondent Rita Skeeter. The headmaster of Hogwarts, the eccentric Albus Dumbledore, seems to always like to bring his clichés to teaching, and is still so stubborn in hiring people.

After hiring "Mad-Eye" Moody as the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts in September, he invited two other European magic schools to hold the Triwizard Tournament. But without exception, these old headmasters are the same as Dumbledore.

The first is Igor Karkaroff, who was a Death Eater before. It can be seen from the game that he strongly opposed Hermione Granger, who is most supported by wizards...