Hermione, let's start the revolution at Hogwarts

Listen! Didn't she ever take the class seriously? !

"Just pay attention... Never mind, I don't know what your problem is."

Hermione looked around and made sure that the librarian, Madam Pince, hadn't come over. She then drew out her wand, cleared her throat, and recited the spell several times before she felt confident.

"Wingardium Leviosa~"

It was obviously the same kind of kraft paper, and she had torn it off from the notebook temporarily, but it didn't move.

Hermione shook her wand again without giving up. The biggest improvement was that the paper jumped... That's right, it bounced like a frog, and the jumping height was only two centimeters from the table.

If Nietzsche hadn't been staring at it, he would have thought it was shaken by the cold wind.

"Did I pronounce the spell wrong... But I haven't learned Latin before, I don't know if the syllables are wrong..."

"Try it a few more times." Nietzsche sighed, "Don't focus on the spell, but on the will!"

Hermione was not worrying for no reason, but had a reason, because Professor Flitwick said something in the spell class: a wizard mispronounced the syllables, causing the floating spell to become the bull summoning spell.

So from a side point of view, Hermione's worry was not wrong.

But it also confirmed Professor Quirrell's view of Muggle wizards, and this situation seemed to be more intense in Hermione.

"Really?"

"But this is not a language class! And you didn't pronounce the spell wrong...Although you have a little accent, it doesn't matter! You must first be sure of your beliefs!"

"That must be related to the accent..."

Hermione seemed to have entered a dead end, she thought she was learning Latin.

"You are not confident!" Nietzsche thought for a while and said slowly, "You can't think about giving it a try. There is no... no such thing as trying. There is only whether you can or can't, just like you have to eat four meals a day."

"It's three meals a day."

"For me, it also includes midnight snacks."

Although Nietzsche's words are very rough, it is probably the truth. Perhaps the strength of human beings lies in their ability to get used to certain specific environments, which is very prominent in Hermione.

She needs to get used to the wizard's idea in order to make the spell successful.

On the fourteenth attempt and under Nietzsche's persuasion, Hermione impatiently recited the spell to the brown paper. If she applied more force, the wand could pierce the paper.

But something happened that made Hermione suspicious---she saw the brown paper swaying in the air and gradually bending.

No, the spell can't go wrong...

Hermione suddenly felt that the book in her hand was not fragrant, and said unhappily: "Standard spells can only add specific states to an object or creature, and cannot be transformed!"

Nietzsche also knew the source of the passage she recited---the beginning of "Standard Spells: Elementary".

Nietzsche stared at the folded brown paper in a daze, and after a few minutes, he happily took out a pencil from his pocket and wrote and drew on the notebook, as if recording something.

"Tell me how you did it! You succeeded, Hermione! Perfect!!"

"What did you do? Didn't you tell me?"

"I'm not talking about this..." Nietzsche danced with joy, as excited as seeing a rainbow in the sky at night, "What were you thinking when you used the spell just now? Quick!"

This was really far-fetched for Hermione, and she spent a lot of effort to describe her mentality at the time.

"It's just...very annoying, after all, you keep saying that I'm wrong here and there."

But this was not enough for Nietzsche. He looked at the content in the notebook about the influence of emotions on effects, suddenly raised his head, and stared straight into Hermione's chocolate eyes.

Yes! He annoyed Hermione! !

"So what were you thinking when you let it float up?"

The girl blushed, hesitating for a long time and couldn't put together a complete sentence, but under Nietzsche's saturation bombardment questioning, her last bit of face was also abandoned by herself.

"Don't ask! What do you think? I just want to put it in your mouth...like now!"

The draft paper was folded into a hard piece of paper, and then Hermione bent her wrist and pointed the tip of the wand at Nietzsche, letting the paper ball hit his face.

It was not until then that Nietzsche suddenly realized.

"I understand... Hermione! You are simply a genius!" He suddenly opened his arms and hugged the girl in front of him, and kept muttering, "So that's it, you have to use emotions to associate first, then it will work..."

Hermione didn't understand, it was Nietzsche who taught her the levitation spell with great difficulty, why did he start to thank her instead.

Her cheeks were hot and her breathing became disordered. The other party's sudden way of thanking made Hermione temporarily lose the ability to think. The only thing she could do now was to wait quietly.

Alas? Why is he like this! !

Five seconds later, Nietzsche got up and left with satisfaction, jumping and running towards the door of the library.

"No noise and running!" Madam Pince's angry scolding could not make Nietzsche's footsteps quieter.

What happened just now?

Hermione began to ponder Nietzsche's excitement belatedly.

He said he was a genius... Hehe... Did she just do something incredible?

Volume 1: Chapter 26 Quirrell paving a new path

Today is a good day to relax~

Unfortunately, Quirrell, with his head bare, looked at the sunset, put down the textbook in his hand, and just walked to the glass display case, intending to tidy up his pressed flowers by hand, when the door of the office was suddenly broken open.

"Professor? Professor!"

"Wait... OK." Quirrell hurriedly got up from the ground, only his head was exposed, with an awkward smile.

He squatted down, rolled over, and put on his headscarf again almost at the same time, and the action was done in one go, so Nietzsche only saw Quirrell's head suddenly popping out from behind the desk like a groundhog.

It's really rare, who would have thought that there would be students visiting his office on Saturday.

"Nietzsche, I... I remember to take a rest today..."

"I succeeded... No, someone succeeded!" Nietzsche did not steal Hermione's glory, "My friend made a piece of paper float and produced a folding effect!!"

Hearing the good news, Quirrell's eyes shone, and he slowly raised his index finger in front of his lips.

"Keep your voice down, I... I have a headache." His feet moved flat on the carpet without making any sound, and walked to Nietzsche to take the notebook that looked like a ghost painting.

To be honest, he really wanted Nietzsche to spend some time practicing calligraphy.

"No... incredible, this is a huge leap in standard spells..." Professor Quirrell stammered, "Can you tell me how your friend achieved it?"

But then again, is Nietzsche's friend more talented than Nietzsche?

From the successful cases in the experimental process, it is possible, perhaps a Ravenclaw... He couldn't help but think of the college he used to stay in.

"Under the unpredictable variable of 'emotions', the thoughts expressed by wizards through their subconscious mind may directly affect the effect of the spell. Perhaps the levitation spell can do more than just make things float."

"But I can't deeply understand emotions..."

However, Quirrell listened with great interest. Although Nietzsche said that the success of the experiment was completely accidental, as long as there was one success among countless experiments, it would prove its feasibility.

And what they have to do next is to analyze it in detail like Nietzsche and increase the probability of success.

"Don't worry, everyone's experience is... different. When I was as young as you, I was able to intuitively receive external stimuli, but this is not all good... good."

"You are very smart to be able to sort out the logical relationship between magic, emotions and consciousness in a short time."

"Really?" Nietzsche pursed his lips and said disapprovingly, "In fact, my father and my uncle always say that I am stupid."

Although he is a stutterer, it is undeniable that as long as you listen carefully to what Professor Quirrell says, you can know that the other party is indeed a good teacher.

It just sounds a bit laborious...

Quirrell's attention was focused on the latest records, and he could only implicitly comfort Nietzsche not to rush into things emotionally.

But he kept silent about his student days.

"When you reach a certain moment, you will be able to directly feel the stimulation from the outside world, and the manifestation of that stimulation is your emotion... fear, hatred, jealousy... they are all good teachers."

"Can't you choose some positive emotions?" Nietzsche's mouth twitched.

"Love? Guard?" Quirrell chuckled a few times, "Although I don't look down on... but there are really... few people who can... really understand that they are far less profitable than negative emotions..."

To love something, you need to pay the price of several years or even decades.

And hatred may only take a moment.

Quirrell thought about it. He didn't remember anything unforgettable, nor did he experience love and being loved. If there was anything worth remembering, it might be this Nietzsche who was different from other Slytherins.

This first-year student expressed a love for everything that even Quirrell could envy.

"By the way, professor, do you have any good defense against the dark arts spells?"

"You can't chew too much." Quirrell put his notebook on the table and turned his back.

Nietzsche cleared his throat, feeling a little embarrassed. He hesitated for a moment before saying, "No, no, no, I just want to learn some self-defense skills. I'm going to duel with someone."

The word duel... is like a fishhook, hanging up the deep memory.

At this time, the professor who turned his back suddenly shrank his shoulders. When Nietzsche turned to face him, he found that Professor Quirrell was trembling all over, as if he had recalled some horrible traumatic event.

"Maybe you should go... find the dean of Flitwick..."

"But you are the professor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class!" Nietzsche didn't want to see Snape's stinky face.

"But I... But I can't! No!" Quirrell swallowed and smiled forcibly, "I'm not very good at these... I'm not good at them. To be more specific, it was Headmaster Dumbledore who insisted that I be a professor."

Obviously, this professor must have experienced a traumatic blow, which led to extreme inferiority complex.

He was originally a professor of Muggle Studies, so he was afraid of the courses he was teaching now, and he had no confidence, which made Nietzsche frown. He hated those traumas that would cause a person's temperament to change drastically.

Quirinus Quirrell, who graduated from Ravenclaw, should be creative, not as mediocre as he is now.

So, Nietzsche was just as the wand wood said---honest.

He looked at the trembling and refusing professor, and said sincerely: "But I thought you were better than Snape, the old bat, because it was you who helped me find the breakthrough of the spell."

"It was me...but I just gave you some suggestions..."

"Snape doesn't even have suggestions." Nietzsche rolled his eyes.

Honesty is the biggest killer. Quirrell asked himself, how much truth and how much falsehood did he have in helping Nietzsche?

I'm afraid he can't tell the difference himself.

"Professor! We will definitely make more breakthroughs in standard spells in the future. It's not easy to win some awards in the magic world... What else do you have to worry about..."

"We?" Quirrell thought he had heard wrongly.

He even gently lifted his headscarf up to reveal his earlobes.

"Although I am a Slytherin, I am not so selfish."

Yes, he has seen the prototype of a new magic, even magic that perfectly fits the wand. As for the future Merlin Knight Medal, it is only a matter of time.

Maybe the situation is not too bad?

Although he didn't know what Quirrell had experienced, Nietzsche was sure that when he was a Ravenclaw student, he must have had a high understanding of spells, otherwise he would not be so familiar with the various variables of magic.

"Who are you dueling with?"

"Malfoy from Slytherin, the one who... um... often takes the lead in laughing at you in class."

"So he is... Malfoy." Quirrell lowered his head and took note of the other person in his heart, "No wonder... I heard that his father is... one of the directors of Hogwarts."

"Don't worry, people like them are like this, the last people who can dream comfortably with a little poison occasionally." Nietzsche despised people like them the most, "He is a sycophant, and the only one he can rely on is the directors."

People like Malfoy are not adventurous or creative. They find a little fun in others during the day, and repeat it at night to find more fun, and they never get tired of it.

It is precisely because they can't see Nietzsche's anger, so they can't find fun, so they are so angry.

But Hermione is different, and now, Quirrell is naturally half in Nietzsche's heart. They both have infinite possibilities, so he tried his best to change Quirrell's timid appearance.

The red light of the evening spread into his office from the distant forest.

Quirrell just slumped in his chair, while Nietzsche quietly waited for the final answer.

"The second... second row from the top of the bookshelf, the fourteenth book from the left to the right, contains some counterspells I recorded when I was young." He said suddenly, "Just consider it as my thank you for your gift."

The gift Nietzsche gave him was naturally the notebook that carried the prototype of the new magic.

The bookshelf was very high, and Nietzsche quickly found the faded book with the movable wooden ladder next to it. The cowhide cover on it was rough and felt like sandpaper.

Thanks to Quirrell~

Before leaving, Nietzsche gave his sincere blessings... although it was what he wanted.