Hermione, let's start the revolution at Hogwarts

"Do you really want to spend your time on this? Or eat some French food and spend the least amount of time together? Or ask some questions that can be regarded as 'questions'."

Watson impatiently pulled the tissue and put it on his collar, but even so, he still didn't intend to let Nietzsche go, and still stared.

Generally speaking, everything is within the scope of Nietzsche's acceptance, but Mary is a little unprepared for the way Mary chews slowly and squints her eyes at him and Hermione... It's not that it's scary, but it's out of fear. Shameful irritability.

Mary was a teaching woman after all and was the first to change the subject.

"So you are traveling behind your parents' backs?" She cut a piece of scallop meat drizzled with lemon juice, put it on Hermione's plate, and then continued, "Or are you on your honeymoon in advance?"

"Hmph, it's not a big deal. Didn't he hold a funeral in advance?" Watson mocked from the side.

But the next second he would regret his interruption - his wife Mary stepped on his instep with her high heels and crushed him hard. He could only stiffly raise his head and take a sip of champagne.

The war under the table is always more intense than the one on the table.

Honeymoon and travel... Although Nietzsche and Hermione knew it very well, it was one thing to know it in their hearts, and it was another thing to be exposed in person.

"It doesn't matter if you don't need to answer. I just hope you can take some necessary measures." Mary nudged her husband with her elbow and said in an almost commanding tone, "You don't expect Sherlock to do a good job as a father. Better than you?"

Watson automatically caught the key word 'better than Sherlock', instantly became serious, and pretended to shake the empty champagne glass.

"Yes, yes... In that case, please protect him." He said softly.

Him, not ‘she’?

Mary's eyebrows raised and lowered, looking at her husband with a suspicious expression. If she heard correctly just now, this sentence should be addressed to the man in the traditional sense, not to the woman...unless it was Tuogu. .

But she ignored one premise - normality.

Because "Sherlock Holmes" and "normal" and "serious"... blah blah blah... have nothing to do with each other, so Watson doesn't think he said anything wrong, let alone drunkenly.

"I don't expect the son of a masochist (Sherlock) who only defeated himself twice to have the idea of ​​being responsible, and I even suspect that this psychological phenomenon is even more apparent in Nietzsche." Watson, a former military doctor Such comments.

He looked Marie directly in the eyes and spoke so seriously that Nietzsche broke through.

"Hey!!" Nietzsche bared his teeth and shouted angrily.

However, Hermione on the side was lost in thought. She knew that this occasion was not suitable for recalling certain scenes that could be easily harmonized, but if she thought about Nietzsche's preferences for a moment, she would find that Watson was absolutely right.

Of course, Nietzsche broke the defense not because it was slander, but because he happened to reveal part of the truth.

The masochist... Well, according to psychoanalysis, everyone is a little sick, and he thinks it's no big deal.

"Look, that's absolutely right." Watson glanced at the two little ones of different shapes and said confidently, "Nietzsche has a kind of pathological responsibility on the macro level, so on the micro level, it should be our Granger. Just be responsible.”

"This is called 'complementarity.'" Nietzsche interjected.

"When did you learn that general explanation, hmm?"

Watson snapped his fingers and asked the waiter at Verne's restaurant to fill him up with wine, and then drank it with a victor's attitude.

Today was really unlucky. Nietzsche shook his right leg, held his head, and stared blankly at the two fire dragon shadows hovering above the clouds. He just wanted to finish his meal and leave here, speed up the flow of time, and let all this pass quickly. .

This is his trial, and the milk in front of him is his only defense.

"Then you need to take more care of me." Mary's eyes showed sympathy. She held Hermione's hand on the dining table, patted it gently, and said softly, "I understand you very much. If you don't If you are happy, you can come to me."

This was strange to hear. Watson beside her slowly turned around and tilted his head to look at the two ladies.

"Excuse me, what does 'you also understand' mean?"

"I'm talking about Sherlock." Mary interrupted her husband's inquiry with a smile, and said in a tone similar to coaxing a child, "As you just said, we all understand what is going on."

Watson blinked, feeling that she was referring to more than just the Holmes family, but couldn't find any evidence.

Nietzsche took a sip of milk and took the opportunity to snicker: Watson used to accompany Sherlock in investigating cases, and he was often arrested for damaging public property, and Mary paid for his bail every time.

"That's what you call shooting yourself in the foot." He said a vague and inverted sentence that was full of the smell of milk.

All in all, no one was unhappy at the gathering, except that when they returned to the Grand Hotel, both Nietzsche and Watson were walking like lame ducks.

Finally, Hermione watched the couple leave, and the stone in her heart fell to the ground.

"Let's go, Mr. Always Reasonable." She patted Nietzsche's butt, and her attitude became arrogant because of the recognition. "We have to get up early tomorrow and go on the road. Then you can lie on the fire dragon to catch up on your sleep."

"Or you can go to bed early." Nietzsche suggested.

"Of course, but...will you?"

"Just don't let me get out of bed."

The elevator was rising, and Nietzsche's legs were getting weaker.

Chapter 398 Visiting Beauxbatons

The next day, the two dragons said goodbye to Paris. They bypassed the city and headed for the Spanish border. As if they had agreed, they would only fly low when passing a lake or a woodland.

The spiked wings fluttered like bellows, raising the ice crystals and snowflakes on the tips of the branches.

Nietzsche was in no mood to appreciate the snow scene under him, which was like a cake covered with icing. He was too lazy to even think. He just lay on Smaug's body, hugged her neck and dozed off to make up for the energy lost last night.

So the task of commanding the two dragons was given to Hermione. She was very energetic, like a vampire who had sucked blood.

'Maybe I shouldn't buy so many clothes. 'Nietzsche sighed.

Last night, he admired Hermione's exclusive fashion show, took off his clothes, and then put on another new dress an hour later, and repeated it over and over again.

This is really strange. Watson's biggest manifestation after marriage is that he has gained weight, but when it comes to him, he has the sign of losing weight.

"I see it!" After an unknown amount of time, Nietzsche heard Hermione suddenly shouting in front of him.

I really envy her for still having that kind of spirit. She has been exercising all night, but he is the only one who is exhausted.

Nietzsche turned his head like a sloth and looked down, and found a magnificent palace surrounded by the Pyrenees Mountains. From a bird's-eye view, there is a cross avenue running through the fountain square.

This is Beauxbatons...

It was built more than 700 years ago, later than Durmstrang and Hogwarts, so it is larger and brighter.

Smaug flapped his wings, slowly descended while circling around the magic school, and finally landed in the middle of the avenue at the main entrance of the huge castle that looked like an ice sculpture.

"Good day." Madame Maxime's voice sounded from under the dragon.

Nietzsche slid down the dragon's tail like a slide. When his feet stepped on the granite bricks, he shook his head and looked carefully. He found that Principal Maxime had brought several wizard students to greet the two.

Most of them were students who had participated in the Goblet of Fire. They were handsome male and female wizards. They lined up on both sides of the huge fountain to support Madame Maxime.

"Good day, respected principal." Nietzsche and Hermione bowed slightly.

At this time, several fairies took the crystal cups filled with water from the fountain and placed them in the hands of the two witches. When the other party turned around and walked over with an elegant cat step, they found that it was Fleur and her sister Gabrielle Delacour.

Fleur suddenly felt a little uncomfortable in her throat when she saw Nietzsche. It was obvious that she thought of some bad experience.

But she was overthinking. Nietzsche did not feel any discomfort. The magic that Veela was born with was driven away by his and Hermione's blood alliance before it touched his body, saving the effort of using brain occlusion.

"This is a magic fountain provided by Nick and his wife Perenelle, which can heal wounds and beautify the face." Madame Maxime introduced.

Nietzsche took a sip of the spring water that was fed to his mouth. It tasted cold and a little sweet, but his body became warmer, and his overworked brain became much clearer.

Then, the Veela sisters waved their wands again, commanding the blankets held by others to wrap around the two of them.

"I'm glad you didn't lose control, wizard." Fleur raised her eyebrows and teased, "It seems that you have improved a lot during this period..."

"Or maybe it's because of me~" Hermione took a step sideways, straightened her back, stared at the other party and said, "I don't think Veela's magic is a big deal. Obviously, your charm is nothing to--my--boyfriend."

The only thing that has not changed is the strange relationship between them.

"Child." Fleur's eyes moved down and deliberately mocked in French.

After she finished speaking, she turned back to the students. Although Hermione had only a vague understanding of French and was still in the learning stage, she still felt something was wrong from her tone.

"Did she scold me just now?" Hermione pulled Nietzsche's sleeve.

"No," he said, "Miss Delacour is wishing you eternal youth, she just envies your figure."

This little fight was seen by Madame Maxime. The headmaster with a half-blood giant walked to Nietzsche and smiled at him. The joke between the two girls relaxed the serious atmosphere.

From the accents of other people chatting, there are students from Spain, the Netherlands, Portugal and other places here.

They settled the dragon beside the stream under the mountains outside the garden, and then followed Madame Maxime into the castle.

From an artistic perspective, the castle of Beauxbatons is definitely dozens of times better than Hogwarts. There are no gloomy ancient medieval armor and solemn stone statues of soldiers. There are ice sculptures that will not melt and mountain fairies humming songs everywhere.

In the banquet hall, Nietzsche also saw several students who had eaten their fill using magic to modify the ice sculptures into their favorite shapes.

"You are here for the exchange meeting, right?" Madam Maxim sat in the middle of the teacher's seat and motioned for them to sit opposite her, "I received new news this morning."

The principal looked very confused, as if he didn't expect that the things that were blocked before would suddenly be allowed again.

She asked Fleur to get some hot soup from the kitchen, and then continued, "Since you are here, you can set off with our carriage tomorrow morning."

It was already half past one, and it was past dinner time, so Fleur only brought two bowls of hot French fish soup.

Hermione drank a mouthful of the delicious fish soup, and felt much more comfortable. She picked up a piece of baguette and soaked it in the thick soup. The sweetness of wheat starch and the saltiness of the soup were fully mixed together, making the taste distinct.

"I'm afraid we can't go back to Hogwarts together." She said apologetically.

"Why?" Fleur stood aside and expressed her doubts for the headmaster.

Nietzsche's thigh was hit by Hermione's knee, so the right to speak was transferred to him.

"The source of this matter is not the Ministry of Magic. Hermione and I need to go to the Magic Congress... In addition, I hope that you will finally exchange senior students with junior students from Hogwarts."

Madame Maxime pondered his words, frowning gradually, adding a few wrinkles to her forehead.

Formal exchange meetings generally do not have this process. Usually, juniors exchange juniors, or seniors compete with seniors through competitions like the Goblet of Fire.

"Juniors exchange seniors?" The principal raised his head slightly, motioning him to continue.

"This is not an exchange meeting, but a hunt for Voldemort." Nietzsche said, "In layman's terms, it is 'calling for help'. Principal Dumbledore needs you to bypass the Wizarding Union and directly help Hogwarts."

Although Voldemort has not yet extended his claws to Britain, the deterrent power is still there, which made the principal fall into deep thought.

He knew that Beauxbatons was not afraid like the British wizards, but was concerned about the safety of the students, so he was not in a hurry to get the answer, and he tasted French food carefully while waiting.

Madame Maxime was a half-giant, and if she could become the headmaster, she would definitely be more responsible for the students.

"I don't understand... Don't you still have Muggles in the UK? Why didn't Dumbledore seek help from Muggles and the Ministry of Magic?" When the bowl of fish soup was finished, the headmaster slowly asked the question.

"Because this was not Dumbledore's idea." Hermione rolled her eyes at Nietzsche.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't panic, headmaster, you can think of this as a show." Nietzsche explained with a wry smile, "Voldemort is just an ant to the UK now, but we need his death to form an alliance across Europe."

If the various departments of the UK are called 'neural networks', then Mycroft is the neural node.

Nietzsche's current responsibility is to go a step further, to elevate "Britain" to the whole of Europe. Judging from his uncle's plan, it is more politically meaningful to ask wizards from other countries to help:

Through the actions of German and French wizards in Britain, guide Muggles (sparrows, No-Maj) and the Ministry of Magic to become a "community".

"The purpose of the exchange meeting is to protect the junior students while keeping Voldemort from noticing, so we need you to select those senior students who are strong in actual combat." Nietzsche laid out the plan bit by bit.

I guess when Voldemort "breaks through" the Forbidden Forest and rushes into Hogwarts, he will collapse when he finds himself surrounded by a bunch of warriors?

It's even more exciting to think about it.

"Does Karkaroff know about this?" Madame Maxime asked tentatively.

"You can just tell him directly. We...I'm afraid we don't have the time." Nietzsche said with a smile.

"What if he refuses?"

"No, Karkaroff would like to wash off the label of 'Death Eater'. He has no reason and no right to refuse."

Chapter 399 Pre-war Inspecting the Troops

Although the magic school has no substantial power, it can be regarded as an equal to the Ministry of Magic in political terms. The three schools accepted and sent a large number of wizards to western, southern and central Europe.

Therefore, when Beauxbatons and Durmstrang provided assistance to Britain, it gave the Muggles in the corresponding regions a reasonable excuse.

This plan, which is almost a live broadcast of the European plate, can be called 'hunting' for Voldemort, just like the nobles of ancient countries used hunting to keep in touch.

Hogwarts is a huge 'hunting ground', and Voldemort is the hunted prey. It doesn't matter whether he is a rabbit or a tiger or leopard that can kill the hunter. What matters is the honor of killing him or participating in the killing.

"So you are saying that we are just an insignificant pawn?" Madam Maxime's words were very sharp, like a precise scalpel.

"No, Headmaster, I prefer to call you part of the world." Nietzsche rested his elbows on the table, fingers crossed at his chin, "No one is insignificant, even an ant has its meaning of existence."

Hermione turned her head and looked into the blue eyes full of wisdom.

She had seen this posture on Dumbledore before, but not as casual as Nietzsche, and his attitude was not so clear, as if he was not afraid of what others would say, just to accept it in a way that everyone liked.