Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

"Is there a problem?" she said.

“Incredible…truly amazing,” the headmaster exclaimed. “His mastery of dark magic truly makes him the most outstanding student in Hogwarts history. He is a perfect Horcrux…even imbued with a personality.”

Molly Weasley held her daughter, her gaze fixed on the diary.

"How did Ginny get this?"

“I don’t know… I found it in some secondhand books my mom bought,” Ginny said sadly, filled with guilt. “I thought it was something you gave me, so I…”

Mr. Weasley stood there dumbfounded, completely bewildered as to how Voldemort's Horcrux had ended up in his daughter's hands.

Ginny stayed by their side all summer.

“I think Miss Weasley should go to the school hospital immediately,” Dumbledore interrupted them, trying to comfort them. “This is not her fault. Even wizards older and more resourceful than Ginny can be deceived by Voldemort.”

Arthur was the first to react; he immediately left the office with his wife, daughter, and son.

Judging from the situation, Ginny won't be fired, since this involves that mysterious person. Mr. Weasley is even worried that his daughter might have been affected by the Imperius Curse and the negative effects of residual dark magic.

"Don't get too excited yet, this means that person definitely won't only have this one thing." A drawn-out voice rang out from inside.

Nietzsche could swear that if Snape hadn't spoken, he would never have noticed him hiding in the corner.

"By the way, Minerva, now that everyone is safe and sound, I think it's worth having a celebration. Go and inform the kitchen." Dumbledore didn't want to say much more about the matter, so he made an excuse to send the others away.

Professor McGonagall and Flitwick exchanged a glance and left silently.

Now, only four people remained. Seeing the principal's reaction, Nietzsche immediately understood that this Horcrux wasn't simply a wizard attaching their soul to an object...

“Hordeals, I never thought Tom would actually make one.” Dumbledore slumped into a chair, looking dejected. “Voldemort was obsessed with immortality; he was willing to split his soul to achieve his goal.”

Phoenix Fox rose from the furnace, hovered in the air for a while, and then landed back on the principal's shoulder.

In other words, every Horcrux is Voldemort.

"By the way, Severus, is anything missing from your office?"

Dumbledore suddenly remembered the previous arrangement.

“None of the ingredients for Polyjuice Potion are missing. I even took out the shopping list from when school started to compare them.” Snape shook his head. “Draco was just here to catch up on other potions knowledge.”

Draco certainly didn't steal the materials; he was looking through Snape's potions notes.

Those expensive materials were probably bought in advance... It was all planned before the start of the school year, but neither the Malfoys nor their son knew of Voldemort's existence.

“Perhaps we can persuade Riddle to identify it as a magical item…” Hermione explained.

"But then what?" Dumbledore interrupted her, saying meaningfully, "Even though Malfoy was disgraced, it preserved Voldemort's soul, which can be kept in the Ministry of Magic's evidence room forever."

Everyone here knows how this Horcrux ended up in Ginny's hands.

But Dumbledore also has a point. His only goal is to eliminate the Horcrux. As for Malfoy... he's not a big problem, because his motive is simply to ruin the Weasley family's reputation.

If Voldemort's Horcruxes had been placed in the Ministry of Magic, he would have had a much greater chance of being in their possession than if they had been collected by Malfoy.

“No, I do not agree with destroying Voldemort’s soul now.” Nietzsche placed his hand on his diary, his eyes flashing with anger. “Even if he is put in the Ministry of Magic, we have ways to get him out.”

“But before that, we can’t guarantee that others won’t communicate with it!” Dumbledore said, shaking his head.

And that's where the disagreement lies—Nietzsche's goal is purebloods, while Dumbledore's goal is Voldemort.

In Nietzsche's view, Voldemort was a tool created by purebloods, a powerful military machine with self-awareness... those purebloods were the ones who most needed to be eliminated.

“Then what’s the difference between it and the other Voldemort?” Harry suddenly interjected.

"Memory... that Voldemort who was still living a life of hiding in the sewers, lacking memories of his student days, is why he became so patient and impatient. He lacked the arrogance of his youth," Dumbledore said slowly.

But he is more shrewd and calculating than when he was young, and he divides everything into different levels, even his own different stages.

He reached for the table and grabbed the other end of the diary.

“This is the evidence, Harry… If we destroy it, everything Malfoy did to innocent people will be forgotten in history!” Nietzsche said in a deep voice.

He is not an anarchist, nor can he overthrow the current order and power structure of the Ministry of Magic.

Therefore, everything can only be done within the existing system, trying to bring the real culprit to trial as much as possible... Stance is very important; once he supports Dumbledore in destroying the diary, then everything that Hogwarts has suffered will no longer matter.

Just as he and the headmaster were defining the boundaries of life and death for the Horcruxes, Hermione noticed that there was an extra person in the chair.

It was Tom Riddle... He was actually sitting by the fireplace, watching the show.

“If Voldemort were to rise from the dead, Hogwarts would lose more than just the people in the hospital.” Dumbledore pressed his voice harder without further ado. “Nietzsche, the truth is a beautiful and terrible thing.”

Hermione secretly nudged his lower back.

Nietzsche suddenly let go, and due to inertia, Dumbledore staggered backward a few steps. If Harry hadn't caught him in time, he would have fallen... Anyway, Snape just stood there, not moving an inch.

“Voldemort is merely a weapon used by purebloods for external expansion. Once there’s a first, there will naturally be a second… Giving them a chance to breathe will only allow them to recuperate.” Nietzsche pulled out his wand and pointed it at Riddle.

The young Voldemort raised his hands and winked comically.

He was like a character in a silent film, using his actions to tell them: Wow, you found me!

“I thought Mr. Holmes was also loyal to Dumbledore…” Riddle teased. “It seems that the two of you are not as harmonious as I imagined.”

“Shut up.” Hermione raised her wand as well.

His appearance softened Dumbledore's tough stance, and the headmaster pounded his fists helplessly on either side.

"Tom, it's been a long time."

"Long time no see, Professor... I apologize for the disloyalty of these two Mudbloods."

Hermione, however, was not so easy to talk to. She stepped forward, almost pressing her wand against the other person's forehead, her calm face masking endless anger and hatred.

If she weren't more rational, she would have liked to use the Cruciatus Curse on Riddle as well.

“I swear, if you say that word again, I’ll kill you right here and now…” she said through gritted teeth.

"Why don't you guys discuss it with Holmes first, or should I go back to sleep for a while?"

"Believe me, if I insist on it, Nietzsche can't stop me."

Riddle clenched his fist, but considering his situation, he decided it was better to remain silent.

Chapter 126 TMD Riddle

"Answer me, Dumbledore, do you hate me?"

Oh~ This calm question didn't come from any love triangle story, but from a student and a professor.

The young Voldemort demonstrated exceptional Transfiguration skills in the Chamber of Secrets, which, of course, came from his Transfiguration professor—Albus Dumbledore... Although Riddle himself acted with great respect, the headmaster was somewhat evasive.

Faced with this question, Dumbledore simply gripped his diary tightly until his knuckles turned white.

"Of course you hate me, that's undeniable... because I killed so many people loyal to you. It's strange that they worship you for your power, but not me—"

"What did you say again? Oh right... because of love~ a lie, those students naively thought you really cared about them."

Dumbledore no longer appeared as serene as usual, but rather very serious, his blue eyes sharp as knives. He held his diary in his left hand, while his right hand had somehow found itself gripping his wand.

"So you're saying all this just to save your own life?" the principal said.

"Don't be ridiculous. If you really wanted to do that, who in this office could stop you?" Riddle glanced at the group with a flippant look. "Is it these two...Muggles? Or Potter, whom you pamper?"

This was Dumbledore's choice.

If he were to destroy this Horcrux imbued with memories, then the murderer of the entire Chamber of Secrets would no longer be Lucius Malfoy, but a basilisk that would only obey orders.

Is this the truth?

No, Nietzsche wanted the truth to come out, even if it came at a terrible cost.

Everyone, every student, has the right to know the whole story, instead of being passively trapped in an information cocoon, naively believing that it was all Voldemort's doing, or a basilisk.

“Hypocritical,” Riddle said, crossing his legs.

“If Dumbledore is a hypocrite, then what about you?” Harry raised his sword and shouted, “You killed my parents!”

“I always thought there was something special about you, and now I understand... Potter, in the end, you're just alive because of good luck, back then because of your mother, and now because of someone else.”

Riddle's words deeply stung Harry Potter.

Just as Harry was desperately trying to suppress his anger, Nietzsche stepped forward, showing no respect for the headmaster's authority and no fear of Voldemort.

"Let's not get off topic. The only reason I want you to live is for you to point out Malfoy..." Nietzsche stepped closer. "You're not Voldemort, you're just evidence."

“Who do you think you’re talking to!” Riddle said through gritted teeth.

"Voldemort, dead; evidence, alive... It's that simple." He stood before the other man, looking down at him.

Nietzsche had no tolerance for even the slightest imperfection.

Even Riddle shouldn't even think about making a comeback.

But when Nietzsche brought the topic back up, Dumbledore sat down wearily, rubbed his crooked nose, stared at Riddle who was struggling to speak for a while, and then closed his eyes slightly.

“It’s not that I don’t want Malfoy to be punished, but the risk,” the headmaster said in a low voice. “Even the slightest storm could destroy the wizarding world—whether it’s the wizarding world’s aversion to purebloods or Voldemort’s rebirth.”

"If this Voldemort dies, won't the Voldemort outside come back to life?" Nietzsche questioned.

"Yes, that's why we need to unite all possible forces, rather than prematurely plunging the magical world into war..."

Just as Snape said, they didn't even know if such Horcruxes still existed.

If any one of them is alive, Voldemort cannot die. And if he doesn't die, it means he will eventually be resurrected; it's just a matter of time. Voldemort could even wait until his generation dies of old age before stirring up trouble again.

“Listen to me, son, the Malfoy family and others are not on the same side as Voldemort. They are more afraid of being purged.” Dumbledore’s words carried a hint of conservatism.

If some wizards were to overthrow the Ministry of Magic and replace it with a new Minister of Magic, it would only push some neutral and pure-blood wizards to Voldemort's side.

This was something Nietzsche could not understand.

Dumbledore naively believed that the purebloods opposed Voldemort because they were afraid of him... No, he was mistaken; even fear has its reasons:

Muggles and half-blood wizards fear Voldemort because they disagree with his ideology and brutality.

Purebloods fear Voldemort because the weapon has gone out of control.

“It is Malfoy who needs Voldemort, not Voldemort who needs them!” Nietzsche declared emphatically. “If you are only worried that Riddle will find a way to resurrect, then I will find a way; it is very simple for Lockhart.”

Lockhart, still deliberately covered in mud and dust, spoke to the students in the auditorium about his intelligence.