Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

"Who? Are they those purebloods who hate Muggles?" Hannah looked at him with hopeful eyes.

“That’s impossible. I saw them on the stairs this morning,” said Anthony of Ravenclaw. “Could there be someone else?”

“It’s Rupert Hagrid!” Lockhart seemed much more relieved, and he cheerfully stood in front of the main table, saying, “Who would have thought that big guy had already opened the Chamber of Secrets more than fifty years ago…”

But no one could laugh.

Everyone had heard Hagrid's boasting and adoration of Headmaster Dumbledore; the former had just been arrested by the Ministry of Magic, and the latter was suspended by the Board of Governors the next second.

"That's impossible!" Neville said angrily, clenching his fists.

“Dear Mr. Longbottom, the Ministry of Magic will not take Hagrid away unless it has conclusive evidence to prove his guilt.” Lockhart’s tone sounded very confident, and he had no doubt about the Ministry of Magic.

He even flicked the Order of Merlin, Class 3, on his chest, which was his stance—the Ministry of Magic was doing the right thing.

At this point, Draco united his faction even more... in Hogwarts, a place shrouded in worry and fear.

“Believe me, look… I didn’t even go back for Christmas, and I’m still alive and well, aren’t I?” Draco spread his arms and boasted. “If you can come in, maybe we can save you a place.”

His words caused some centrists to waver, but in the end no one reacted.

In this life-threatening situation, even the most self-protective Slytherins can see through Draco's true colors, and they trust themselves more than others' charity.

“This should have been handed over to me a long time ago… Alright everyone, if you want to forget about this unpleasant year, I can help you,” Lockhart said happily. “I’m very good at helping people forget their troubles.”

No one believed Gilderoy Lockhart's unreliable behavior.

Forget your troubles... they'd rather drink a whole bottle of forgetfulness potion! Look at Harry Potter's arm; they don't want to lose their brains because of Lockhart's mistake.

“This isn’t over yet, is it?” Ginny sat down next to Hermione, her fingers twisting together on the diary in her lap.

"This isn't over!" Hermione slammed her hand on the table and said angrily, "The murderer isn't going to get away with this. This has nothing to do with Dumbledore or Hagrid. I'm going to teach him a lesson... Don't worry, I already know who it is."

Ginny swayed, her face turning pale. She stared in horror at Hermione's profile, as if something was stuck in her chest.

But she didn't say anything, and quickly stuffed a mouthful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

Chapter 114 The Brainless and the Unhappy

In fact, Nietzsche and Hermione's findings were correct.

Malfoy transformed into Ron Weasley, a creature he never imagined would become such an ugly thing... not to mention the smell of the potion.

It tasted like a bottle of hot and sour sauce that had been diluted with water, but the spiciness hadn't been diluted at all. Draco felt that every time he pinched his nose and drank it, his throat would become a little hoarse... although he knew it was just his imagination.

What opened the secret room wasn't a key or password, but an ordinary-looking diary.

Draco, however, would often see his father writing and drawing in his diary at home, and interestingly, he also left this dark magic item to the Weasleys.

"Dragon scum".

Draco, disguised as Ron Weasley, used his experience before Christmas to summon the diary with a Summoning Charm.

The thought of it made him furious. To find out where the diary was, he had to pretend to be Ron Weasley to comfort Ginny, and he had to do it when Ginny was sleeping in or at the library.

He lay behind the sofa and glanced at the diary's former owner: TM. Riddle.

Amazingly, before Draco could write anything on it with a quill, lines of beautiful text began to appear on the previously blank paper.

"there is a problem."

"What's the problem?" Draco asked, puzzled. He continued writing, "Everything is going according to your and Father's plan... We just need to use the Basilisk a few more times to truly drive Dumbledore away."

His writing was like a black ship slowly sinking into a yellow ocean.

After a few pauses, Riddle, who had been in contact with Draco, began to display the next sentence on the parchment.

“Ginny Weasley wants to break free from my control.”

“I told you… I suggested you that we must kill Granger, that Mudblood, first.” Draco, in his haste, misspelled several words. “Once we get rid of him, everything will go much more smoothly.”

Riddle was speechless: "..."

If it had a physical form, it would definitely want to grab Draco, that brainless idiot, and throw him into the Black Lake. Are Slytherins starting to accept just anyone now?

Back in the day, every single one of those who made it into Slytherin was a genius, or at the very least, a discerning pure-blood head of a family.

“What do you think a professor’s office is for?” Riddle’s handwriting began to sound stiff, as if he were carving it with a fountain pen. “That Holmes is deliberately protecting her.”

What bad luck.

Riddle looked at Draco and felt utterly defeated. Why couldn't his partner be like Nietzsche or Sherlock Holmes?

Their every move is hidden in the dark and unpredictable, but the other side can always foresee their next move.

“But two people...that’s not enough!” Draco paused halfway through writing to listen to his surroundings. “The Gryffindor Headmistress is currently acting headmistress; we must remove her from office as well…”

“So I only have one idea left,” Riddle wrote.

"what?"

"Get rid of Ginny, this destabilizing factor... I've had enough of her asking me all day about how to get Harry Potter's attention, and of course... I just want to fulfill my promise to Lucius as soon as possible."

Draco tensed up.

It wasn't that he was afraid because he heard that Ginny was to be killed, but because if Ginny died, then Malfoy's plan to bring down Arthur would be over.

So he told Riddle, “No, if she dies, then there will be no scapegoat... She did all this, but it has nothing to do with me. I need to catch her red-handed.”

“…” Riddle paused for a moment, then continued writing, “Sorry, I’m just really annoyed by people like her.”

His handwriting trembled slightly, as if a person whose hands were shaking with anger was holding a pen to write.

“How about we kill Nietzsche?” Draco wrote, trembling.

The thought of the Malfoy family's gradual decline filled him with hatred and negative emotions that made him feel nauseous—if it weren't for him, the Malfoy family wouldn't have ended up with only one manor.

It's all because of him, that Mudblood who was assigned to Slytherin.

"Crazy?" But before Draco could even see what was happening, the words vanished.

He then changed his tune: "I understand how you feel, but we're on the defensive right now... Trust me, I'll take that girl to the Chamber of Secrets. Besides, playing with fire will make Weasley the funniest joke ever."

Draco frowned; the current plan seemed to differ from his father's.

They could have continued the attack until the new headmaster arrived, at which point Draco, disguised as Ron Weasley, could have found the diary in Ginny's possession and 'captured' her.

But not anymore.

But Riddell made one very good point:

If the Weasleys, who love Muggles, were the murderers of a Muggle wizard, and Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets with a dark magic item, only to lose control and burn herself, wouldn't that be an even bigger joke?

By then, no one will sympathize with the Weasleys, or with those wizards who side with Muggles...

But I still want to...

“Alright, since you’re so eager to kill those Mudbloods, you should listen to me, okay?” Riddle’s handwriting was full of coaxing. “They’ll definitely come to the Chamber of Secrets looking for Ginny.”

"But what should I do in the end?"

Draco made up his mind.

In order to revive the Malfoy family, he decided to do something big.

“You’ll disguise yourself as Ron and come down with them. After I kill them, you can pretend to be the ‘Discoverer.’ I can even make you a hero… like Potter.”

“But they have so many people, and you only have one basilisk…” Draco said, somewhat worried.

“Dear Draco, do you think someone is still a threat after they become blind?” Riddle casually twirled a word. “Now that Dumbledore has left office, it’s the perfect opportunity to make a move.”

Draco closed the notebook, then tiptoed back to it.

This was a very meticulous plan. Of course, disguising himself as Ron Weasley was unavoidable, and he even had to sneak into the smelly girls' restroom. This kind of work should be left to the Muggle-loving Weasley.

He didn't want Malfoy to have any strange reputation.

Finally, just as her father planned, she would ruin the Weasley family's reputation and, incidentally, destroy an important piece of dark magic that had been activated—killing two birds with one stone.

To be honest, he was actually a little reluctant to part with him. Every word that this guy named Riddle said hit the nail on the head.

Chapter 115 The Busy Cat Professor

"Everyone else finishes class at five o'clock, has dinner, and must return to the lounge... Except for the Duel Club students, who can study in the auditorium, we will be here until eight o'clock."

This is Acting Principal Minerva McGonagall's regulation for the future, and also her support for Hermione and Nietzsche.

This also prevented Riddle and Draco from finding a breakthrough.

Every night after Christmas, Hermione would gather the wizarding community under the guise of the Duel Club, dividing them into four groups to return to the common room together.

"We need to block off the girls' restrooms on the third floor..." Professor Flitwick muttered to himself as he sat in his seat.

“Maybe it’s already run away.” Lockhart shook his head and pointed at the students below. “Maybe it’s like it was fifty years ago… Who would have thought that big oaf Hagrid would keep a basilisk as a pet?”

The only one not participating in the discussion was Snape, who was walking among everyone, trying to find fault with a few people.

"You two... Weasleys! If you throw rotten eggs again during the duel, I'll make you eat them!"

“Miss Susan, I never knew that the way to defend against the Disarming Curse was to lie on the ground. That’s quite an eye-opener for me.”

Everyone was cursed by the greasy old bat, even Nietzsche, who was sparring with Granger, couldn't escape the fate, which certainly opened the eyes of the other little snakes...

If it were Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, Gryffindor would definitely be the ones getting criticized.

“I don’t know what you have to be so proud of. You’ve turned a wizard’s duel into a Muggle knight’s duel.” Snape pointed to the wounds on the ground and mocked, “Your head is full of Muggle thinking.”

Nietzsche put away his wand and, out of the dean's sight, secretly stuck his tongue out at the girl.

“Professor, it’s just that I’m not as skilled as you…” Hermione said, panting.

“If Granger had used the Barrier Charm, followed by the Armor Charm and the Knockback Charm, just as you were leaping and slashing down with the Levitation Charm, you would have already lost!” Snape continued to nitpick.

This appears to be a critique of Nietzsche, but in reality... it is also a critique, only incidentally offering some pointers to Hermione.

Obviously, whenever Snape stands between the two, Nietzsche is always the one who gets hurt... For some reason, Snape gets angry at his nonchalant attitude.