Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Riding on the wings of a fire dragon, the two leaped high into the air, crossing over the basilisk as they attacked Voldemort.

"Kill those two Mudbloods first...forget about the dragon!" Riddle was hit by the Barrier Charm that followed immediately after blocking Hermione's Disarming Charm, and his movements slowed down visibly.

Snape, that old bat, stood amidst the broken walls and ruins of the stone pillars, watching the unpredictable attacks come one after another.

The Black Magic shield pierced Riddle through to the bone, but only a faint light shone through his wound. Harry looked at Snape, who was waiting for his chance, and noticed the hatred and disgust in Snape's eyes.

That's rare... He thought Snape was like that with everyone.

"Ah~ it seems I did something to you in the future." Riddle rubbed his chest and said calmly.

Snape remained silent. Seeing that his attack had not been fatal, he immediately dodged the several green lights and used the Disillusionment Charm to hide again. He patiently waited for the next opportunity.

"I thought I could just lure Harry and a few Mudbloods here, but I didn't expect you professors to be here too," Voldemort said lazily. "Don't worry, you can't kill me. It's just a pity that Hogwarts will be a little short of people."

Professor McGonagall told Ron to take his sister and leave first.

"It was you who opened the secret room..."

“No, no, no, to be precise, it should be my dear Ginny,” Voldemort corrected her. “A girl who is very fond of Harry Potter. I put in a lot of effort to get her to open her heart.”

The outline of his body gradually became clearer.

The professors could all sense that Ginny's life force was dwindling, and clearly, this battle was going against them.

“I can pay a price to make the basilisk close its eyes,” Flitwick said resolutely in a low voice. “Anyway, I’ve lived long enough for humans…”

The Eye Curse is a spell used against giant magical creatures.

The problem is that the Eye Curse requires the wizard to hit the target's eye, which inevitably leads to direct eye contact with the basilisk. So, Flitwick essentially sacrificed his own life to create an opportunity for the others.

“No need. Since we can’t make the basilisk close its eyes, let it close them on its own,” Nietzsche said.

“The Sorting Hat…” McGonagall glanced back at Lockhart, who had the hat over his face, and said quickly, “The Basilisk’s scales can block most spells, and the sword is hidden in that hat.”

Upon hearing this, Lockhart immediately reached in and, sure enough, touched something cold and hard.

As he drew it, a gleaming silver sword fell out of his hat... That's right, Lockhart couldn't lift it at all and could only stare dumbfounded at the egg-sized ruby ​​on the hilt.

Seeing the professor's stunned expression, Harry picked it up from the ground without saying a word.

“It’s too heavy!” Lockhart cried out in panic. “It’s not my problem, I can’t lift it.”

Nietzsche whistled, and just then, the fire dragon, knocking over the surrounding stone pillars, charged toward them.

He led Harry up from the tail, stepping on the black jade-like spine to climb up. The dragon, whose eyes were covered, subconsciously twisted its body to express its dissatisfaction, but calmed down slightly after hearing Nietzsche's voice.

“Use your scent to find your way, you can have a blast today!!” the boy yelled as he rode on its (her) neck. “Harry, you only have one chance!”

"I try not to make a mistake."

They split into two groups: the three professors were responsible for restraining Voldemort, while Hermione and Neville controlled the flames.

Smaug initially bumped into the ceiling, but after sensing the height of the entire chamber, he began to fly close to the wall above his head. Under Nietzsche's instructions, dense flames began to descend from above.

The rapidly rising temperature caused Hermione's vision to become distorted.

The basilisk could only passively dodge around, its venomous fangs unable to attack anything with wings.

"The flames are blazing!"

Hermione raised her wand, and a fire tornado appeared in the Chamber of Secrets. Even without the Eyesickness Curse, the flames, smoke, and scalding sand and gravel were enough to make the basilisk howl and writhe in agony.

If it were ordinary scales, it would now be nothing but a skeleton.

"Don't stop...keep going..."

Nietzsche's call kept the fire dragon's mouth open, maintaining its attack.

Harry, supported, slowly stood up. He mustered his courage, opened his eyes, and looked at the shadows in the fire. After determining the direction, he gripped his sword and leaped down.

"Armor!" Snape stepped out from the side.

The white barrier prevented Harry from feeling the burning dragon fire; on the contrary, the wind was warm as he fell.

Protected by Snape's armor charm, he passed through the curtain of flames and plunged the silver sword straight into the basilisk's head, between its eyes, so deep that only the hilt was visible.

The basilisk writhed in agony, and Harry was immediately thrown aside and knocked unconscious.

When the smoke cleared, Voldemort could only see a fire dragon pressing its claws against the basilisk's head, while Nietzsche smiled provocatively at him and made a very 'gentlemanly' gesture.

"Do you know that the future Voldemort has a snake nose?" He said sarcastically, his face darkening. "It seems you don't, since you're still playing with the Basilisk right now."

"Nietzsche!" Voldemort's face contorted with rage, and he let out a scream.

"Avada Kedavra!" "Crunch in the heart!"

The green light, symbolizing death, and the red light, symbolizing pain, parted ways in the air, greeted each other, and then flew off toward their respective destinations.

Chapter 123 You Know Nothing About Magic

Under the cover of McGonagall and Snape, Nietzsche leaped across the mudslide-like ground, jumped off the dragon's spine, and raced toward Voldemort.

"Shatter into pieces!" Voldemort cleaved the boulder in front of him into pieces, then attacked from both sides, shouting, "Shatter to pieces, freeze instantly!"

Nietzsche didn't need to dodge; the spell of this magnitude was reflected away by the white barrier before it even touched his body. With the blessing of the braking spell, he quickly approached his opponent.

Voldemort is now facing an attack from both sides.

"Avada Kedavra".

"There are many obstacles!"

The Obstruction Curse... Voldemort wanted to make a few sarcastic remarks, but what distracted him was seeing the Unforgivable Curse, which was so powerful that even the Ironclad Curse couldn't stop it, frozen in mid-air.

That dazzling green light seemed to have been frozen in time.

Nietzsche simply lowered his head, glided to the side, and twirled his sword.

A flash of light appeared, and Voldemort's hands were severed in one swift motion.

"You mud-blood...this is impossible!"

"You know nothing about magic."

This time, it's Nietzsche's turn to mock Voldemort.

The latter had red eyes. Although he wouldn't die, he was still in pain, especially as his features became clearer and clearer. He had all the features of a normal person.

At first, he was able to rely on his immortality to trade blows with the professors, but as time went on, the drawbacks began to emerge.

Nixon was gathering his spiritual energy, and the sword flourish he had just made was also a gesture of a spell. As a result, powerful magic squeezed Voldemort from all sides. Perhaps he would be very strong in the future, but right now he was just Tom Riddle in his student days.

The ingenious combination of spell gestures and swordsmanship is truly a sight to behold.

"Where is Malfoy?" Nietzsche stepped forward, stomping on Ginny's wand, and then punched Voldemort in the stomach with his left fist.

"I don't understand what you're talking about," Voldemort spat on the ground and said dismissively.

“You like to be stubborn, don’t you?” Nietzsche plunged the lightsaber into his body, pinning him to the floor. “It doesn’t matter, Voldemort… I’ll make you regret teaching me this spell. Shh, hold back… Cruciatus Curse!”

Voldemort only saw the lightsaber on his abdomen flash red, and then he felt that heart-wrenching pain.

Judging from Nietzsche's words, was his Crucifixion taught to him by his future self?

Even Voldemort in his student days couldn't help but let out a few brief screams. He was indeed unkillable, but that didn't mean his soul was intact. At that moment, Voldemort felt as if he were being torn to pieces.

The Crucible Curse seemed to have acted directly on his soul.

Professor McGonagall intended to severely criticize the spell her student used, but after glancing at the dead basilisk, she ultimately carried the unconscious Harry out of the Chamber of Secrets, ignoring Voldemort's screams echoing within.

“You dare…you dare to do this to me…” Riddle shouted in shock and anger, his body trembling slightly as if his soul was being torn apart.

Professor Flitwick seemed somewhat incredulous, his eyelids twitching slightly after hearing Riddle's scream.

As Hermione approached, she saw Nietzsche's face reflected in the crimson light, and her instincts warned her to stop him. But rationally, she felt that such reasonable violence should be allowed.

"Wasn't Ginny forced to open the secret room by someone?" Professor Flitwick said with a sigh.

“But who brought Voldemort in?” Nietzsche said expressionlessly. “Riddle is a memory… Lockhart!”

Professor Lockhart was squatting next to the basilisk's corpse, pouting, and gently kicking it a few times. When he heard someone calling him, he ran over in a panic, like a startled rabbit.

He stared incredulously at Riddle on the ground... no, I should say the great Voldemort.

"Let me introduce you. This is our most outstanding professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, an expert in... the Oblivion Charm," Nietzsche chuckled. "As for your unkillable nature, I'm sure someone at Hogwarts will have some knowledge of that."

Lockhart wanted to decline, but after seeing Dean Flitwick's scrutinizing gaze, he swallowed hard and unconsciously moved closer.

Well, we've come this far, there's no point in hiding anymore. Perhaps thinking of the Sorting Hat's mocking laugh, Lockhart, feeling like he was being forced into it, began to inquire about Riddle's situation.

It's strange that it can't be killed, and that its life force is connected to Ginny's memory.

“Memory…” Lockhart tilted his head back slightly, away from the red lightsaber. “In fact, if the Cruciatus Curse works, it means there’s still a part of the soul that carries the memory.”

Nietzsche was right; he was indeed an expert when it came to memories, and only he could understand some of the tricks of Voldemort's mind.

"This... well... it seems Mr. Riddle has completely severed his soul and memories. But the question is, if memories are carried on the soul, then what is the vessel for the soul?"

"In fact, the body and soul are fused together, and memory is the substance produced by the union of the two, so Mr. Riddle must have one... Let me look..."

Lockhart was like a dog that had smelled food; he immediately started running around everywhere.

At this moment, he was completely unaware of the complex emotions in Flitwick's eyes, because the old dean had never expected that he actually had some skill. But it was fortunate that he didn't see it, otherwise Lockhart's nose would have been sticking up to the ceiling of the secret chamber.

Lockhart soon found a black-covered diary at the foot of Salazar Slytherin's statue.

"This is it!" He excitedly held it above his head. "It's like the human brain... I've always had a keen sense for memories, this is fantastic! I've found the Dark Lord's most fatal weakness!"

"You...click."

Voldemort's eyes widened. He hadn't expected that the person who had been cowering on the ground with his head in his hands the whole time would have such abilities.

But just as he was about to unleash the curse, someone next to him raised their wand and twisted his jaw off, leaving only a tongue moving up and down in his mouth.

Just then, something even more infuriating and humiliating happened: Dobby appeared between Nietzsche and Hermione.

"Harry Potter is safe!" it shouted excitedly. "Dobby succeeded! Dobby got Harry Potter out of the trap, Mr. Holmes...you defeated the Basilisk."

“Wrong, it’s not ‘I,’ it’s ‘we.’” Nietzsche gripped his wand and plunged it deeper into the ground.

A house-elf and two Mudbloods had managed to make him look so pathetic, and Voldemort could only glare at them.

But the most difficult question is—how do they destroy this thing?

Professor Flitwick tried several dark spells and general antidotes in his anxiety, but he couldn't get the notebook to peel off. When the diary was blown up by the blasting spell and fell to the ground, it only got a little dusty.