Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

"Professor! We're sure to make more breakthroughs in standard spells in the future, and winning awards in the wizarding world won't be a piece of cake... What do you have to worry about..."

“Us?” Quirrell thought he had misheard.

He even gently pulled his headscarf up, revealing his ears.

"I may be a Slytherin, but I'm not that selfish."

Yes, he has already seen the prototype of a brand-new magic, even magic that perfectly matches the wand. As for the Merlin Knight Medal in the future, it's only a matter of time.

Perhaps things aren't so bad after all?

Although Nietzsche didn't know what Quirrell had gone through, he was certain that Quirrell must have had a great understanding of spells when he was still a Ravenclaw student, otherwise he wouldn't have been so familiar with the various variables of magic.

"Who are you dueling with?"

"Malfoy from Slytherin, the one... um... who always leads the mockery of you in class."

“So he is… Malfoy.” Quirrell lowered his head, memorizing the name. “No wonder… I had heard that his father was… one of the Hogwarts Board of Governors.”

“Don’t worry, that’s just how they are. They’re the kind of people who can comfortably dream with just a little poison.” Nietzsche despised people like them the most. “They’re opportunists. The only thing he can rely on is the school board.”

People like Malfoy don't take risks or create anything. They find a little amusement in others during the day, and then repeat the same thing at night, finding a little more amusement in it, and they never tire of it.

It is precisely because they cannot see Nietzsche's exasperation that they cannot find amusement, and that is why they are so angry.

Hermione was different, and now, Quirrell was naturally considered half of him in Nietzsche's heart as well. They both possessed infinite potential, so he tried his best to change Quirrell's timid and hesitant demeanor.

The red glow of dusk spread from the distant forest into his office.

Quirrell slumped in his chair, while Nietzsche waited quietly for the final answer.

"The second book from the top of the bookshelf, the fourteenth book from the left, contains some anti-spells I wrote down when I was young," he said abruptly. "Consider it my way of thanking you for this gift."

The gift Nietzsche gave him was, of course, the notebook that contained the nascent form of new magic.

The bookshelf was very tall, and Nietzsche quickly found the faded book by using the movable wooden ladder next to it. The leather cover was rough and felt like sandpaper to the touch.

Thanks, Quirrell!

Before leaving, Nietzsche offered his sincere blessings... though this was his own idea.

"May magic be with you, Professor."

Quirrell flipped through the notebook by himself, then hid it in a hidden cabinet.

It is certain that he found at least what he had once most hoped for in Nietzsche.

So that's how it is... So hope has always been by his side.

Outside the window, the wizard's jokes could be heard, and inside, the clock ticked. Quirrell, who was resting with his eyes closed, suddenly chuckled, a laugh tinged with madness, pain, and self-mockery.

He thought of Nietzsche's assessment of him:

Surprisingly, he's even better than Snape...

"Time, that's what I lack most."

He saw in Nietzsche a respect that was different from that between a student and a professor, more like that between partners. Quirrell completely relaxed, holding his forehead, as if he really saw himself standing in the middle of a crowd, being looked up to by thousands.

Sometimes, he fantasizes about taking it a step further and learning a skill that earns him respect...

But it doesn't matter, he has now seen new hope in Nietzsche. Everything in front of Quirrell floated up, but before he could even try the levitation spell to be reborn, his thoughts slowed down.

"Can I really get what I want from him?"

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Purebloods are dead, half-bloods shall rise.

The sun rose as usual, and after the first weekend, everything went back to normal.

Just by looking up, one can see that the hourglass above the auditorium has far fewer of the four colors of gems than last week, clearly indicating that many people did something against school rules over the weekend.

Nietzsche recalled last week's metamorphosis class. Whenever a student made a mistake in the metamorphosis, Professor McGonagall would first loudly reprimand the student for the error, but then add at the end:

"If you are serious, you can also complete the transformation task in your first class, just like Miss Granger."

Hermione may not know that she is also resented by Slytherin.

Professor Quirrell remained unchanged, except that occasionally people noticed he would go straight to his office after class and wouldn't linger in the classroom for long.

When Nietzsche returned to the classroom on Monday noon, he found a group of people gathered around the notice board discussing something. When he got closer, he realized that it was just some small snakes tearing at each other in the lounge.

Everyone was watching as a brand-new notice was posted above, featuring two crossed brooms and the following text:

This Thursday, Slytherin and Gryffindor students will have their flying lesson together on the lawn by the Black Lake—Rolanda Hotchki.

Nietzsche stared blankly at the broom, with only one thought in his mind: he would rather die than ride around on a broom.

What era are we living in? Times have changed! Riding a broomstick and flying around everywhere... If Sherlock knew, he would definitely team up with Mycroft to laugh at me.

He'd rather ride a jet-powered skateboard.

"Why aren't first-years eligible to play Quidditch!" Draco yelled. "You know, back in the day, I rode that old, worn-out model and dodged that Muggle... something spinning..."

He seemed to be trying to say that he had dodged the helicopter.

Not only Slytherin, but every house's common room received the same message that day.

On the way to the History of Magic classroom on the second floor in the afternoon, Hermione seemed to be infected by the atmosphere, and she kept complaining about flying lessons and Quidditch.

"It seems like all the students from wizarding families have ridden them, but we haven't... What if we can't fly? Will we lose points? Will we fail the exam because of our poor performance?"

Hermione's mutterings made Nietzsche feel like his head was about to explode.

She always felt anxious because of her Muggle family background. Hermione sometimes envied Nietzsche for having such a sharp mind; at least she had never seen him get anxious about anything.

"You don't like it..."

"Why do you think I'd enjoy flying around on a broomstick?" Nietzsche clicked his tongue. "I'm curious... but that's all. No! I hate sports, especially rugby!"

As Nietzsche was walking up the marble steps, he was suddenly bumped into.

Warrington, who was a whole size bigger than him, glanced at Hermione disdainfully and said to Nietzsche, "Perhaps Malfoy is right, you Slytherin traitor...maybe you and that pure-blood traitor can get along well."

The term "pure-blood traitors" refers to the Weasley family.

Draco, who was walking ahead, turned his head and revealed a mocking smile, which made Hermione even more irritated.

"Are all the Slytherins a little dim-witted? He clearly bumped into me on purpose..."

But Nietzsche stopped her.

Just moments before, Warrington had deliberately bumped into Nietzsche in the crowd, causing him to stumble backward, and slipped something into his hand. When Nietzsche opened his hand, he discovered it was a small piece of paper.

There's a name on it—Marcus Flint.

This is quite intriguing. Didn't this person have a conflict with him last weekend?

"Was it some kind of swear word?" Hermione asked, frowning angrily.

"Actually, it's a help, but perhaps Malfoy's assistant is a bit tricky..." Nietzsche said unhappily as he entered the classroom. "He's an upperclassman, and his strength... is currently above mine."

But that's only for now, after all, he's only been learning magic for a week.

Draco Malfoy clearly valued this duel highly, even going so far as to swallow his pride and seek a capable assistant.

As for Goyle and Crabbe, those two bodyguards? Malfoy himself probably knows that the two of them get a headache just looking at Nietzsche, let alone being his assistants in wizarding duels.

They certainly don't want to become permanent residents of the school clinic.

"This isn't fair... Oh well, this is so Slytherin, they'll do anything for honor." Hermione, already frustrated, felt even more helpless. "But why would he help you?"

However, a closer look reveals the undercurrents beneath Slytherin's surface:

Mixed-race people have suffered for too long compared to pure-blooded people~

In fact, under the unspoken rules of Slytherin, pure-bloods are also a constrained party, but at the same time, as beneficiaries, they have no choice but to maintain and pass on the entire system.

Conversely, mixed-race and Muggle races, as slaves oppressed to the extreme, are more likely to rise up in rebellion.

“He’s not helping me, dear Miss Granger, he’s helping himself!”

Although it seems that those people treat Nietzsche as a gamble or a tool, he is not disgusted; on the contrary, he feels that these people are not beyond redemption.

He finally understood why the Sorting Hat had said Slytherin was his starting point...

Professor Binns was reading the text aloud, while some students were sleeping or chatting. Very few students actually absorbed even half of what was in the textbook.

Nietzsche stopped after hastily making a few underlines in that thin textbook on the history of magic.

His attention then became completely focused on Professor Quirrell's personal notebook, the words on the cover of which were beginning to blur due to fading.

Curses, Counter-Curses, and Curse Breakers

Turn to the first page and you'll find a passage from Quirinas Quilleau's student days:

"The essence of breaking a curse is that it is a curse itself."

This sentence runs through almost the entire notebook, and Nietzsche spent half a day yesterday, Sunday, trying to understand its meaning.

In layman's terms, a curse-breaking spell is like a sharp spear. The relationship between the spell and the curse is that the spearheads are facing each other, using the opposite effect of the curse to counteract its effect.

The anti-evil curse is a shield used to prevent the effects of evil curses in advance, such as the fire and moisture prevention curse and the second-grade curse that stops immediately.

"Locomotor mortis (Legs Stiff and Dead), originating from a counter-curse to the Leg-Locking Curse, can partially negate the Leg-Locking Curse, but be careful about the casting interval..."

No wonder Quirrell always said that black magic is the shortcut to the modern spell system, because the whole system is biased towards violence.

But theories must eventually be put into practice, so Nietzsche needed a suitable experimental subject.

That's it! You're the one! Mercury!!

Taking advantage of Hermione's inattention, Nietzsche immediately lowered his head and slipped away with the crowd. He went down the stairs in the central courtyard, bypassed the boathouses at the dock, and arrived at the owl hut at the top of the hill.

Being a pet in the Holmes family has always been a difficult life, whether it was the pug kept by Watson and Sherlock or the owl now.

Not only did they have to deliver letters and newspapers, but in their spare time they would also be taken back to be used as guinea pigs.

If I had known that even as an owl I would be used as a test subject...

The owl shed is a barn-like room divided into two areas: the school owls and the pet owls purchased by the students.