Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Hermione drew her wand, tapped it lightly, and casually added a wooden chair in front of the headmaster's office.

"get out of class is over~" She crossed her legs and casually placed her leather boots on Nietzsche's knees, as if she were the owner of the office. "Hey, why aren't you finished with this little bit of work yet?"

Alright, so you just came here to gloat.

"Thanks to your help!" Nietzsche angrily waved the parchment he had just moved in front of him. "Look at this... an application to upgrade brooms for Quidditch training. Isn't that the student council president's job?"

Without a doubt, with the support of all the students, Hermione is already the student council president, and there are no objections.

But for Nietzsche, the seeds he planted in Slytherin had borne fruit that landed right on his own feet.

“Since you’re the chairman, you should naturally have some privileges.” Hermione straightened her legs slightly, bent her feet, and pressed the toes of her shoes against his abdomen.

Hermione: Wink~

Nietzsche let out a muffled groan as he was stepped on, and his back straightened instinctively.

He shifted back in his seat and then complained, "You dump all the Ministry of Magic's administrative affairs on me, fine, but you're giving me all the trivial matters at school too? Be careful, or I'll overturn all the little things and let everyone else criticize you!"

However, Hermione was not angry at the threat. She first glanced at the obscured portrait of the headmaster, and then looked at the Sorting Hat dozing in the closet, as if she had made up her mind.

"To reward my great contributor, how about I help you relieve some of your stress?"

Her voice, like that of a demon from hell, was incredibly alluring to Nietzsche.

"For example?" he asked, feigning disdain.

"For example... as a prefect, it's reasonable for me to use the prefectural restroom a few times without permission, right?" Hermione said casually.

"That makes sense."

"So, as the student council president, it's perfectly reasonable for me to decide that you have the right to use the restrooms." She stood up, looking at the soda on the table, and said, "Oh dear, school's over. I'll take a bath after I finish my homework~"

Nietzsche was left alone in the office again. As soon as the oak door closed, he ran around like a cat off its leash.

Crookshank lay on the cat tree, watching his crazed human... Oh well, he was used to it.

The school's public washrooms were located on the sixth floor, but Nietzsche had never been there. He only knew that such a place existed, located at the fourth door to the left of the Boris the Fool statue, and he could smell the fragrance of bath soap coming from behind the heavy stone door.

Normally, this place is only used by class leaders and male and female student council presidents, but when he arrived it was already nine o'clock at night, and there was almost no one left.

But he hesitated to go in, in case...

Nietzsche considered Hermione's earlier gaze and tentatively whispered, "Ramune?"

The stone door slowly opened, and a strong floral fragrance wafted out. The rising steam stopped at the entrance to the washroom. Although Nietzsche couldn't see clearly, he felt relieved—Hermione had changed the password.

The bathroom floor was made of white marble, and the rectangular bathtub was as big as a standard national swimming pool. Without the Unseen Stretching Charm, it would have been impossible to fit inside Hogwarts.

When he shifted his gaze to the edge of the bathtub, he saw a figure surrounded by hundreds of gold faucets inlaid with jewels.

The thick steam made the fair skin around the edge of the bathtub glow pink, and the brown hair hung wetly on both sides of the shoulders, a scene that corresponded to the picture of a blonde mermaid emerging from the water on the bathroom wall.

"You only get one chance," Hermione said with a soft laugh, huddled in the corner of the bathtub.

She deliberately raised her knee and used the hot water to wash away the white foam clinging to it.

Nietzsche quickly stripped off his clothes, wrapped himself in only a linen towel, pinched his nose, and jumped down, swimming swiftly under the foam as nimbly as a fish.

When he reappeared, he was already standing in front of Hermione.

Golden faucets flowed with bath soap mixed with hot water, making their skin incredibly smooth. The girl's soft laughter echoed in the thick mist, like a dream... no, Nietzsche needs to correct that, because it was even more beautiful than a dream.

“Chairman Granger, please be lenient with me a few more times, considering how hard I’ve worked.” Nietzsche put his arm around her shoulder.

“I’m the student council president! Letting you into the prefect’s restroom is already breaking the rules. You want me to ignore school rules? Not that I can’t, but... unless I get something out of doing it.” Hermione said with a wicked grin.

Nietzsche's expression turned serious. When he felt a 'fish' swim between his legs, he knew what price he would have to pay.

But it doesn't matter, as the saying goes, 'If I don't go to hell, who will?'

“You will be satisfied, my dear---wife.” Nietzsche embraced her underwater.

Hermione gasped at his sudden action as the Neven snake coiled around the Phoenix and rolled against the bath wall, sensibility and reason clashing in the empty bathroom.

The Phoenix's cry was as melodious as a phoenix's, which made the Rune Serpent immerse itself in the other's feathers.

However, none of them noticed that behind the partition between the men's and women's restrooms, Myrtle was secretly watching this scene with her face covered.

Myrtle: It's so nice to be a ghost~

(The wedding episode will follow)

Bonus Chapter: Wedding in Progress

"My son, another great man in this world after me is about to fall into the grave... Oh, sorry, I suddenly remembered that you've already been to the grave once before?"

Sherlock Holmes's eerie voice echoed through a magnificent palace.

The man he called his 'son,' Nietzsche-John Holmes, who would replace Mycroft as the head of CI6 and SHD after graduation and was a figure who could almost control everything in the shadows of the world, was as nervous as a child waiting for his grades at this moment.

Nietzsche, dressed in a standard handmade tailcoat, paced anxiously back and forth in the room, occasionally peering out the window and staring blankly at the red carpet rolling from the main entrance.

However, he quickly turned his gaze back to the antique decorations on the wall from the Royal Collection Trust.

This is Clarence House, which is not usually open to the public. Today's development is to welcome two people whose every move influenced the world's changes—Nietzsche and his fiancée Hermione Granger.

That's right, in half an hour, Hermione, hand in hand with Mr. Granger, will walk in through the gates of Clarence House...

“Shut up!” Watson glared at his old friend, then comforted his son, “Relax, your wedding is no big deal compared to others, it’s just that there are a few more other people.”

“Others?” Mycroft interjected inappropriately. “Excuse my bluntness, but anyone who can walk into Clarence Palace is at least a ‘catfish’ with an office in the neighboring St. James’s Palace.”

St. James's Palace is the official royal residence of the British monarch and is usually used to receive documents from foreign ambassadors and commissioners stationed in the United Kingdom.

So strictly speaking, in half an hour... no, twenty-five minutes later, Queen Elizabeth II will arrive here with ambassadors from various countries and the Minister of Magic to offer her blessings for Granger and Holmes's union.

“Thank you so much for your addition!” Watson also glared at Mycroft.

"You're welcome---" The retired Mycroft was lazier and fatter than before, and he casually accepted this mild sarcasm.

Nietzsche became even more nervous at the thought of this; in fact, he hated such activities that put private matters on display.

At that moment, several glowing fairies pushed open the door to the room, and Nietzsche, by tilting his head slightly, could see the well-maintained hall.

The Delacour sisters entered, and their arrival eased the atmosphere in the room somewhat.

“Everything is going according to plan, everything is perfect,” Fleur Delacour said mysteriously. “Nietzsche, I assure you you won’t regret sending an invitation to Beauxbatons. Rest assured, the romance of the French will not disappoint you.”

“I hope so…” Nietzsche glanced at his watch and hurriedly asked, “Where are Harry and the others?”

"He's already back from the Magical Congress of America, and should have met with his godfather Black by now."

It's somewhat good news; at least Nietzsche felt a little relieved.

Hermione, on the other hand, was in no better shape. She was caught in the same anxiety and tension as Nietzsche, and perhaps even more so.

She wasn't confused or nervous about the future; she was more shy. After all, this was different from the prefectural restroom at school. This time, she needed to announce her promise in front of many representatives from around the world.

Although Hermione and Nietzsche had practiced countless times in private beforehand, today she suddenly wanted to become mute.

"Who will be attending?" Hermione suddenly lifted her skirt impatiently, trying to take a few steps. "Isn't the hem too long? What if... what if I trip and fall? That would be such a... disaster!"

She euphemistically referred to 'shameful' as 'failed action'.

The wedding dress was a gift from Madame Maxim; it was a blue and gold tulle dress that resembled a riverbed filled with gold sand, its surface shimmering in the sunlight. The original veil was replaced with a top hat that Nietzsche had once given her.

Mrs. Granger pursed her lips, feeling proud as she looked at her daughter's anxious expression.

Time ticked by, and Hermione watched helplessly as those figures, who only ever appeared on television, walked into Clarence House...

“It’s time,” Mr. Granger said softly, taking his daughter’s hand.

Hermione walked out almost without hesitation, filled with anticipation for the future and shyness in the present.

------

Maybe it's coming soon?

Nietzsche was sandwiched between his two fathers, practically carried to Albus Dumbledore's presence... It was quite a rare occurrence for the former headmaster of Hogwarts to be the witness at their wedding.

Meanwhile, Colin was hiding in a corner taking pictures with a professional camera. He had been working for the Daily Prophet since graduation and was rumored to be a favorite of Rita Skeeter.

The fairies from France carried golden trays with great effort, offering wine and snacks to the astonished Muggle ministers.

Nietzsche also saw several ice sculptures of Beauxbatons on the wall on the first floor. Their exquisite appearance was even more eye-catching under the flying fairies, and their style was classical... at least the Muggles brought by the Queen liked them very much.

He nodded to Furong under his seat to express his gratitude.

Just as Nietzsche was distracting himself, the sound of 'The Green Mountains of Tyrol' played on Scottish bagpipes suddenly rang out from outside the door.

coming!

"Relax, you're about to break my hand." Sherlock perked up as soon as he heard the music start, instantly switching from his favorite humor and dark comedy to a mere slit in his mouth as he spoke.

He gently patted Nietzsche's hand, which was resting on the back of his hand, and straightened his tie.

"Looks like I'll be all alone from now on," Sherlock said, blinking his grey-blue eyes as if to feign nonchalance.

Nietzsche didn't know how to respond, and between gentle comfort and contempt, he ultimately chose silence.

boom---

The gates of Clarence Palace were opened, and Nietzsche squinted at the blinding sunlight outside, a sun as dazzling as it had been more than a decade ago. Then the spring breeze blowing in was as cool as it had been in Granger’s yard.

Finally, his gaze began to wander, taking in the people present at this not-so-grand wedding:

Black and Lupin, who joined in the fun; Harry Potter, who slew two snakes; Neville Longbottom; Ron Weasley; Cedric and Cho Chang... these all represent Hogwarts;

The Weasley twins are honored guests of the military-industrial complex and genius inventors of prank toys;

Next were Prime Minister Lockhart, Vice Principal Snape, Professor Quirrell, Mrs. Hudson...

Wait, who is that guy in the black cloak?

Nietzsche's eyelids twitched as he watched the figure that seemed to be 'Death' hiding behind an ice sculpture, holding its scythe and dancing to the music—if it really existed, then he hoped it was just there for the spectacle.

Led by Inspector Lestrade, the stormtroopers from the Strategic Homeland Bureau stood ramrod straight on either side of the red carpet, their pristine white armor and synchronized steps making them resemble enchanted stone statues.

Two rows of gun barrels crossed upwards, and then Nietzsche saw Hermione walk out from the passage made of bayonets.

The blue and gold wedding dress was lifted into the air by the fairies without making any contact with the ground, so Hermione didn't have to worry about tripping over it.

The Grangers, holding their daughter's hand, made no attempt to hide their anticipation and joy. They personally placed Nietzsche's hand, clad in lace gloves, into his palm, after which many silver guardian spirits began to circle around them.

"Did Fleur arrange all of this?" Hermione had been observing the entire ceremony's layout the whole way, and its beauty was no different from the fairy tales she had imagined as a child.