Hermione, let's start the revolution at Hogwarts

Snape narrowed his eyes. Harry seemed to dislike this bet.

So Harry could not help but yell, "If Professor McGonagall hadn't come, he would have ended up like you! You've already lost, why can't you lose like a man?"

This is a difficult question. No one knows who will win or lose in the end. In the current stalemate, Snape stood up.

He lowered his head slowly, paced in the ward, and finally stopped in front of Marcus Flint. His eyes were dull and his voice was very soft, but his pronunciation was clear.

"Mr. Flint, what was your condition before Dean McGonagall came... Don't try to lie to me..."

"I finally... I ran out of magic because I cast too many spells, but Nietzsche could never win!!"

"Did he run out of magic in the end?"

"No... Yes!" Marcus raised his head and looked at the professor, as if he had fallen into an icy lake. He didn't dare to lie, "But he was almost exhausted, so the winners should be me and Malfoy."

All the little wizards held their breath, waiting for Snape's verdict.

Harry thought: If Snape could be fair for once, he would not only give all the snacks to everyone in the Gryffindor lounge, but he would never follow others when they scolded Snape.

"Well... makes sense." Snape nodded, but it wasn't over yet, "So you think a wizard can't beat an unarmed Muggle, right?"

What's the question?

Marcus scratched his head. With his big body and blank expression, he looked like the dazed woodland troll in the illustrations in the book.

"Professor, how can a Muggle beat a wizard..."

"Yes, that's right, so what's the difference between you and a Muggle after losing your magic power?"

He was ridiculed by Snape and his face turned red, but he still hesitated to fight for this last chance of victory.

"But he has... I am the captain of Quidditch, and I can knock him down with one punch with his small body! Professor, this is not fair!!"

"Idiot." He shouted at Marcus, "He doesn't need to rely on the resuscitation spell to survive until now, and he doesn't need your punches? Since you want to duel, show me some duel manners! A coward who dares not even admit defeat!"

Malfoy immediately lowered his head. Now he could only pray that the Dean's anger would not burn on him.

"Draco..."

Hearing this drawn-out call, he shuddered amid the giggles of Harry and Ron.

"Professor?"

"If you can't even face failure, what ambition and ideals can you talk about? Since it's a duel, you need to be prepared to lose in advance... Minerva, the rest is up to you."

When Snape looked at Nietzsche with a cold gaze, he revealed some inexplicable nostalgia, which is usually only seen by middle-aged and elderly people when reading memoirs.

Then he left, and walked very quickly and lightly.

Minerva McGonagall was also a little strange. Did Snape's potion experiment just now succeed?

In fact, Nietzsche was not too sure about the last moment. He couldn't move at all at that time, so Snape's final judgment exceeded the expectations of Harry, Malfoy and Nietzsche.

Just as Snape said, the thoughtful Hermione naturally prepared a retreat... but it was better than losing.

"Potter, Weasley, since you are just bystanders, I will deal with you lightly. Go back and rest now, don't disturb them! And you... all go back!"

Before leaving, Professor McGonagall glanced at Nietzsche, who was talking happily with Hermione.

The terrible injuries on his body could not calm his enthusiasm for the bet, until Madam Pomfrey could no longer bear it and put down the light blue curtains to isolate the beds of several people.

Perhaps it was the effect of the potion. After a while, Nietzsche's arm, which seemed to have been stung by a bee, gradually produced some numbness as if it had been passed through by an electric current.

He lay on the bed, his excitement replaced by sleepiness, and under the moonlight, he gradually fell into a dream.

Dreams, for Nietzsche, are a new adventure.

When he woke up again, Nietzsche's bedside was already full of various snacks, each with a card, which either had a blessing or a name.

At first, Nietzsche didn't know who these people were, but when he saw the 'C? Warrington' on the crucible-shaped cupcake, he smiled.

"What should I do..."

After getting up, Hermione has been flipping through the textbooks of Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

This morning, she was going to go to class, but was stopped by Madam Pomfrey. Although Hermione's wound had healed, she was still asked to stay here for a day for observation and was forced to rest.

Nietzsche waved his wand lazily and pulled away the wand blocking the two of them.

"Can't you just be quiet? Look at the sunshine. This is a rare forced rest time."

"Because of you, I missed Transfiguration and Charms!" Hermione looked at the cupcake on Nietzsche's belly and was furious. "Who knows what kind of knowledge I will miss..."

At the same time, she sighed: When did he become so popular.

Hermione got up the earliest, so she could see people staying by Nietzsche's bed one after another, but they also stayed more often, as if they left after putting down their things, and each trip would not exceed three people.

Those Slytherins were very low-key.

Of course, Hermione also had some gifts for consolation, but apart from her roommates, there were only some wizards who had been tutored, which could not be compared with the snacks piled up next to Nietzsche.

"I'm afraid only the 'savior' Harry Potter can compare with you..."

"Really! How could they not give you?" Nietzsche distributed some licorice sticks and honey candies, pretending to be angry, "You know how difficult it is to make Miss Obedient make an exception once, so ignorant."

"Strength... is it really important in Slytherin?"

Hermione threw a honey candy into the water cup, watching the clear water gradually turn light yellow, she only felt a toothache in her heart.

The sweetness of honey water is moderate, it is hard to imagine how sweet it would be if she just stuttered.

"It's because of our victory... Hermione, we shook the tradition of Slytherin." Nietzsche said with great enthusiasm, "Just imagine what they will think when they see that Malfoy can't say those things in front of me."

These people, led by Warrington, will counterattack crazily.

Even if they cannot replicate this victory, they will not give up, just because hope is here, and a "successful" history will remain in their memory forever.

Nietzsche is hope itself.

Not to mention, Warrington and Marcus have always had a grudge.

"After seeing the truth, how can Slytherin be willing to do this."

"Hermione, breaking the barriers of the college has begun!" Nietzsche carefully held up the cards and sighed, "This is what life should be like... not suppressed and bound."

Pure blood does not only mean the purity of blood.

In the isolated social environment of the magic world, after thousands of years of development, it means that most of the resources, connections and abilities of the magic world are a manifestation of the inner yearning for power.

In other words... some people do not hate pure blood, but hate why they are not pure blood.

This is why Nietzsche had to fight.

He must trample the authority exerted by pure blood under his feet. If there must be a kind of power, then it is only the power will deep in his heart.

"But even if you can represent the entire Slytherin one day, what about Gryffindor? What about other colleges?"

It is better to say that Hermione was shaken than to say that Nietzsche just pulled out her inner thoughts.

The four colleges became a real whole, which is what Hermione yearned for. She was fed up with Gryffindor's self-righteousness and meaningless personal heroism, and Nietzsche also hated the bloodline trick.

"Isn't there still you~" Nietzsche praised like a bard, "In Gryffindor managed by Ms. Hermione Granger, there is only one true heroism, that is..."

Hermione pursed her lips tightly, holding the glass in both hands. The two sat on the warm blue and white boat, and the poems were passed back and forth between them without pause.

She only heard her whisper: "That is to still love life after seeing the truth of life, Romain Rolland."

Nietzsche always inadvertently removed Hermione's conservatism and hesitation.

Little did he know that after Hermione saw that the magic world was not so beautiful, she would change faster than he imagined.

This was really like seeing Merlin. This feeling of being known by others made Hermione very fascinated. She had never thought that a friend could understand her so well before. Now, she felt so romantic in her heart.

If you forget that there is a Draco Malfoy in the infirmary...

"I... I don't think I disturbed you two."

The bed curtain was pulled open, and Professor Quirrell with a reddish-brown headscarf poked his head in.

"Professor Quirrell!" Hermione immediately turned around and her eyes moved away from Nietzsche in a panic.

"Please don't... don't imitate me... talk, Miss Granger." Professor Quirrell looked a little unhappy, "I thought you... you don't have a bad taste like other students."

Hermione always restrained herself in front of professors, so she immediately said nervously: "Sorry."

But Quirrell suddenly changed his face, and sat down beside Nietzsche's bed very casually, and laughed with him.

"Just kidding, Miss Granger didn't stutter at all when answering questions in class." The professor waved his hand and took out a notebook from his arms, "I just came to ask about some details of last night."

The 'levitation spell' that came out of Nietzsche's mouth yesterday was too absurd, so Professor McGonagall talked about it when she complained to Dean Flitwick in the morning about several students dueling privately.

As soon as he heard the name of Nietzsche, Flitwick immediately thought of the child with weird ideas.

Quirrell, who was enjoying fish porridge, heard the news of the duel and came over immediately after teaching Gryffindor.

"Don't worry, Miss Granger, this is a little...little experiment between us."

"Experiment?" Hermione had never heard of it.

"Based on Nietzsche's fantastic idea, I think... the potential of standard spells is huge." Quirrell explained stumblingly while recording Nietzsche's dictation, "This is a brand new spell system!"

Just by listening to Nietzsche's imagination, you can see how he broke Malfoy's arms at that time.

This kind of power is not just "lift up and fly high", but more like "strangulation".

Imagine, what if Nietzsche broke Malfoy's neck instead of his arm?

Volume 1: Chapter 31 Quirrell's Second Life

Since Quirinus Quirrell returned to his office from the infirmary, he has been cursing.

"Humph, trash!"

"Useless!"

Of course, it wasn't Professor Quirrell who was cursing. The sound came from his turban. The unfathomable master naturally knew the Malfoy family. The cursing didn't stop after the door was closed.

And Quirrell sat in a chair with a smile on his face and a pale face.

"Thinking I was dead, so he turned to the Ministry of Magic. What did that little useless thing say?"

The little useless thing, of course, refers to Draco Malfoy.

"School director, master." Quirrell said calmly.

"He doesn't pay attention in class, and he can't beat a mudblood, a damn traitor, in a duel with a third-year wizard who is repeating a grade..." The voice turned the topic and thought, "But, that mudblood is indeed capable."

Quirrell narrowed his eyes slightly, supported his head with his right hand, and slowly rubbed his chin with his fingers.

Obviously, his master has noticed something, but Quirrell didn't intend to hide it, because it was useless, so he just put it out, intending to see what his master meant.

"Do you think I should continue?"

"Why not?" After a few seconds of silence, he continued, "This is a good Slytherin, and he can be used as a shield... It will be troublesome to find something under Dumbledore's nose."

"Then research..." Quirrell asked excitedly.

But his master laughed contemptuously, "It's not up to standard. It's just a derivative of the standard spell. Black magic can bring the dead back to life and immortality... It's not as easy to kill a person with strangulation as with the killing curse." The killing curse is one of the three unforgivable curses. This killing spell seems very common from his master's mouth. Hearing this sneer, Quirrell was relieved. He just looked down on him, but did not reject his research. This means that Quirrell can start a second life in some sense, just like when he was a student... loving magic and studying magic. Maybe, black magic is not the only shortcut... "So that's it. The continuity of magic and thoughts is like this. No wonder..." Quirrell practiced several times according to the theory recorded in the notebook, "There is no need for too many destructive emotions, just need to be pulled." After only a few failures, Quirrell used memory to pull out emotions and completed the experiment. "Lift it up... lift it harder..." The wooden chair in front of him for guests to sit on floated in the air and was crushed into pieces bit by bit. You know, in the whole process, control is an extremely difficult thing, and Quirrell feels that his wand perfectly complements this. He doesn't need to be distracted deliberately, just put it into his thoughts.

"Maybe it's not enough, maybe I can add something to it." Quirrell excitedly wrote down the idea that popped up in his mind, "What if one of the parts of the target is given a status?"

This is really exciting.

It's like the first time he used black magic to retaliate against his classmates who laughed at him.

As long as there is no black magic involved, unicorn hair will not have any effect at all, and it is even a help. He has never been so grateful that his wand is so stable, not as powerful as the dragon heartstring.

On the second day, Wednesday, the school infirmary was crowded at noon.