Hermione, let's start the revolution at Hogwarts

But since it's for research, and the other party is a professor, it doesn't hurt to say it.

"But some things can't be chosen..."

"No! Even if you are in a desperate situation, there will always be a choice."

Looking at the description of wandology, dragon heartstrings, phoenix feathers, and yew wood are all suitable for white magic or black magic, and the powerful effects almost all come from the material of the wand.

But such a calm and stable material as unicorn hair is actually considered to be incapable of achieving great things?

Quirrell was stunned for a moment, and touched the wand that turned from a feather pen with his right hand. He smiled bitterly, then straightened his headscarf and became serious, contrary to his timid appearance in class.

This seriousness made the young Quirrell look a bit like a professor.

"No wonder... No wonder Dean Flitwick asked you to come to me. A studious wizard can always find endless knowledge..."

"If you want to slightly change the state of the levitation spell, in addition to the determination to release the spell, it is your emotions-in other words, it is your determination to maintain the effect."

"Do you know how wizards enter... enter a locked room on Muggles?"

Nietzsche recalled the catalog of "Standard Spells: Elementary".

"Unlocking spell."

"That's right!" Quirrell gradually became excited, "But what if it was a wizard who locked it?"

"Anti-unlocking spell?"

"Wrong, it's the advanced spell of alahomora (Alahomora)--Bombarda!"

Quirrel raised his wand and pointed it at the side door of the office. With a loud bang, the bolt was blown away along with the stone wall. The rubble returned to the original path before it could fall to the ground. Under the silent repair spell, it became intact again.

Not only the unlocking spell, but also the lighting spell has a corresponding strengthening spell.

The enhanced versions of these standard spells are not inferior to the category of black magic, because they cannot cause direct harm to people, but at least they can give Nietzsche a research direction.

He seemed very satisfied with his demonstration, so he stammered: "We not only make the bolt open automatically and the mechanism run automatically, but also directly destroy it. The explosion is the 'effect' of unlocking."

Theory combined with practice is perfect teaching.

Nietzsche suddenly realized that Quirinus Quirrell, who was not well-liked by his classmates, was not the kind of fake tricks that only talked but did not practice on the surface.

As for why the crushing spell was not used.

This is because some evil spells and poison spells cannot cause substantial damage to buildings. They are more used to hurt the fragile body of wizards, not hard granite.

"I understand..."

The floating spell is to lift the target up, and the magic power imposes a 'floating' state on the object, and he can complete the advancement in the process of lifting it up.

For example... how to lift it up?

It was like he could lift a piece of paper gently with his hands, crumple it into a ball and hold it in his palm, or tear it into pieces and throw it into the sky... As long as the target remained in a 'floating' state, it was enough.

Quirrell looked at the time, rolled his eyes, and began to order him to leave.

He smiled faintly and said, "Well, more than an hour has passed. I think if you are later, Filch will catch you as a Gryffindor who is out at night and deduct points."

Nietzsche quickly stood up and looked at him sincerely.

"Thank you, Professor!"

Feeling the sincerity of his student, Quirrell smiled. He watched Nietzsche turn around and move further and further away from him...

"Nietzsche!"

"Hmm?" Nietzsche was a little strange and stopped holding the door handle. "Anything else?"

"It's not enough to have a good mind. You must be motivated. Being smart is not a privilege, but a talent... I look forward to your future experimental results. Good night~"

"Good night, Professor."

When the footsteps outside the door became smaller and smaller, Quirrell sat up and immediately collapsed on the chair. He trembled and grasped the edge of his headscarf, while the other hand pressed on his chest.

He lowered his head and seemed to be talking to himself, but there was always another echoing voice in the office responding.

"Master, according to your instructions, he will definitely discover the mystery of black magic..."

"More than that, assist him more during unplanned time." The invisible man ordered, "I can feel that his talent is not inferior to Severus. I can see a new black magic... You... did a good job."

Quirrel did not have other thoughts because of the weakness of his voice.

He looked at the mirror and said tremblingly: "Master..."

"Yes, yes, as long as the plan succeeds, you will gain much more power than this. Let's see what tricks this mudblood can do."

Hearing the perfunctory praise from the other party, Quirrell was still very happy.

But he was not excited by the benefits mentioned by the voice owner, but because he could see the magic system starting from the standard spell, a brand new magic starting from the wand.

Let the floating spell become a killing weapon, what a strange idea.

"Use... black magic... to lure... only power is... immortal"

Volume 1: Chapter 24 Mudblood Effect

Early in the morning, Nietzsche saw several people fighting in the lounge, and there were a few words in the air, "My father is higher in the Ministry of Magic than your family" and "My bloodline is thicker than yours."

Yes, this is very Slytherin.

There is a kind of beauty of an English drunkard.

The attacker was a short-haired senior who was tall and muscular. With a wave of his wand, he pressed another Slytherin against the window.

The fish passing by outside the window looked curiously at the wizard who was clinging to the window.

"Warrington, if you want to be a chaser, wait until I graduate." Marcus looked at Nietzsche's leaving back, threw him back to the ground with disdain, and stepped on him, "I'm the one Quidditch captain!"

Others did not dare to step forward and help Warrington up.

I could only watch helplessly as he used a cutting spell to break the broom in the opponent's hand into two pieces.

It wasn't until the tall and rude Marcus left that some wizards stepped forward to pull Warrington up. They were all half-blood wizards from Slytherin, but reasoning simply didn't work here.

Bloodline is doomed to human relationships and power relationships.

"Forget it, after you finish taking the OWL exam, Marcus will graduate..."

But Warrington knelt on the ground, holding the fragments of the broom in silence.

Draco Malfoy from the dormitory next door was also watching. He was watching with great interest how Slytherin resolved conflicts in private. At the same time, he also noticed Nietzsche who had just gotten up.

"You see, he thinks Marcus is not suitable as a chaser. There are always hybrids who can't position themselves correctly."

Maybe, as Daphne said, Draco learned something new from the Head of Slytherin, so he knew he could turn the situation around.

His confidence seemed to be returning.

"You really love studying. I can have a real wizard duel with you at any time, and compete alone... put away that stick of yours!"

He watched as Nietzsche tapped the floor with his cane, taking two steps back with Goyle and Crabbe.

"Noble sir!" Nietzsche stretched himself under the green sunlight shining through the black lake and said with a yawn, "But I need to go to the dean now. Don't you know he is tutoring me alone?"

Draco's face immediately fell and he clenched his fists.

That's it. He hated Nietzsche's style. He came to Slytherin as a Muggle wizard, and in turn looked down on them, pure Slytherins, and regarded them as a joke.

"I hope someone in Slytherin is willing to be your assistant, otherwise you wait for a one-on-one... You have to pay the price for your previous actions."

Daphne poked her head from behind Pansy, mockingly.

At first, Nietzsche thought that Gryffindor was the most troublesome in the house. After all, just deducting points there would be enough to upset Hermione, but that was not the case. Maybe every house was violating school rules in its own way.

Take Slytherin for example, they will always solve it privately in their own way.

"Maybe he, a Muggle wizard, has never heard of wizard duels." Her ridicule definitely contained personal emotions.

"Haha... As expected of a mudblood, assistant! I allow you to pick one here, if they are willing... Hey! Who among you is willing to serve as Nietzsche's assistant in the wizard duel?"

The fight next door was over, and Malfoy's voice was so arrogant that Slytherin, who hadn't seen enough of the duel, turned his attention and laughed loudly after hearing Malfoy's words.

Who would help a Gryffindor in Slytherin?

Blaise shouted: "Why don't you go to Gryffindor? I think a fool like Weasley would be happy to be his assistant..."

So they laughed even louder.

"You sent Goyle and Crabbe to the school infirmary right after school started, so I will only give you two days, Nietzsche, you must accept it, unless you are a coward! I will wait for you here in two days!"

Sunday and Monday are just two days of work.

Even if Nietzsche is really a genius, what powerful magic can he learn before Tuesday? You must know that Malfoy has been practicing hard for a week for revenge.

Do you expect that stammering Professor Quirrell?

Or invent a magic spell on the spot?

ha! Unless Nietzsche is the reincarnation of Merlin! !

No matter what, the advantage lies with Draco Malfoy!

Nietzsche found Daphne hiding behind Pansy and nodded slightly. Then he thought for a moment and said calmly: "If it's just a duel, it's too boring. How about some chips?"

Well...sorry, Hermione, that's not what he wanted to fight.

Besides, I’ve been buying a lot lately and my money is too tight. Nietzsche plans to follow Shylock’s experience of earning extra money in an underground boxing ring.

"What do you want to bet on?" Malfoy was overjoyed, "One galleons? Ten galleons?"

"Since you don't have the courage to place a bet, you can't blame me. If you want to blame, you can only blame your own lack of promise."

Nietzsche looked at Warrington and didn't know what to think.

He suddenly had a brilliant plan in his mind. If he wanted to shut up these arrogant pure-bloods, it wouldn't be enough for him alone. The other person could annoy him to death with just one mouthful.

"One bet for each person." Nietzsche pointed to the group of people watching behind him and said impatiently, "You idiots, if you lose, don't discuss bloodline in front of me!"

Shabini, Parkinson and other pure-blood wizards were so angry that they stared.

However, some mixed-blood wizards who had just gotten up from the ground were stunned in place, looking at him in disbelief...

In Nietzsche's observation, Slytherin is not a rope. The contradiction between mixed blood and pure blood can never be adjusted. The former can only adhere to the latter in the general environment.

To put it in a cynic's terms: Even if we know, what's the point? Do we have a choice?

"If I win, you will break off your relationship with Gryffindor and join me..." Draco didn't think he would lose, and he firmly believed that he would become a qualified heir to the family.

"Deal!"

But no one cares about the ideas of half-bloods and Muggle wizards.

Or... what big waves can these people make?

When Nietzsche walked through the corridor outside the dungeon and came to the potion classroom, it was already ten o'clock. No students could be seen outside the door, because no one would be willing to come to the bat cave on weekends.

Of course, Nietzsche didn't want to, he was forced.

"You are ten minutes late from the agreed time. If it were normal, I would deduct ten points."

Snape's voice came from the corner of the classroom. Looking in the direction of the voice, you can see Snape in the shadows rummaging through something in the cabinet where the raw materials of the potion are stored.

"That's because your dear student Draco Malfoy wanted to duel me early in the morning. Apparently, they look down on mudbloods..."

"Shut up!!" Snape turned his head and shouted, "Don't say that to me. Don't say it again!"

But he found that although Nietzsche said it on purpose, he didn't seem to know the actual meaning of 'mudblood', because his bland tone was like talking about how many pieces of bread he had eaten in the morning.

"Sorry, I thought Slytherin allowed students to attack with bloodline."

"Bloodline?" Snape strode in front of him and raised his hand to press the other's shoulder, "This is a pure insult, like... dirty bastard..."

Nietzsche was a little surprised.

You know, as the dean of Slytherin, Snape was the kind of indifferent and indifferent person in his impression, but now he would get angry because of an offensive word.

This contrast is like a mute who has been silent for more than ten years suddenly speaking.

"Then you should tell your precious student to shut up instead of getting angry at me. This won't change anything, respected Dean Snape." Nietzsche walked past him and went straight to the desk.

Snape knew very well that Malfoy could say it.

Or, he subconsciously made an excuse for himself: "This is a trivial matter between you. As the dean..."

"Hermione always said that I am good at making excuses. It seems that I have a companion now." Nietzsche shrugged, "Don't worry, if you are willing, I can make the atmosphere of Slytherin better."

Finally, Snape's expression changed for a while, and he became as indifferent as before.