Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Hubble and the little snakes had seen through it all. Draco could only use his father to scare people on ordinary days. This cowardly behavior of avoiding battle made the liberals in Slytherin even more disgusted.

As Warrington went downstairs, he casually greeted a burly Gryffindor next to him.

If I'm not mistaken, it should be Oliver Wood, the Quidditch captain of Gryffindor. It seems the liberal Slytherins are no longer going to keep it a secret.

To paraphrase Nietzsche: If you're going to choose self-interest, why choose a team that's bound to lose?

The professors in the main hall didn't seem to mind the change, except for Snape, who had a gloomy face but could only stare blankly at the snakes chatting with the other houses.

Suddenly Hubble stood up and sat down next to Nietzsche with someone else.

Hey! The Gryffindor table is across the way!

Hermione didn't reply to him. She seemed absent-minded, mechanically turning her head and staring at him for a long time with a complicated expression.

“What’s wrong with your house?” she said wearily. “Harry said that ever since that flying lesson, your former Chaser has been pestering Wood to talk about Quidditch…”

That's not the point. The point is that the two of them got along very well.

It was really bizarre that a former Slytherin member and the captain of Gryffindor were chatting so enthusiastically that the Weasley twins even thought Warrington was trying to gather intelligence.

"This is Slytherin's freedom; we like making friends."

"you sure?"

“Of course, it’s just that they don’t want to be friends with Malfoy anymore.” Nietzsche spread his hands helplessly. “Isn’t this a good opportunity for you? Now you can expand the number of people in the study group.”

It's called a study group, but there aren't actually many people in it.

Neville and Hermione's two roommates would listen to her tutoring seriously, while Harry and Ron would only cram at the last minute, forcing themselves to memorize the books the night before Potions class.

Hermione has complained about the learning environment at Gryffindor more than once in private.

"You didn't sleep last night?" He noticed a dark circle under Hermione's eyes. "I know you're worried about your grades, but you don't have to stay up so late studying."

But then Nietzsche noticed that Hermione's eyes were darting around and she was avoiding eye contact.

“I haven’t been staying up late… well, I’ve just been a little tired lately.” Hermione paused for a moment, then seemed to realize she was sitting in a Slytherin seat, and quickly stood up. “After all, magic is just so wonderful, don’t you think?”

She really can't lie.

Because he knew Hermione had mild obsessive-compulsive disorder, she wanted to have everything planned out on a form, specifying what to do, what not to do, and when to do it, so there was no question of her staying up all night to learn magic.

But Nietzsche didn't immediately expose Hermione's little secret that she was unwilling to reveal.

“Hermione Granger? The one Professor McGonagall always praises in class?” Hubble asked, showing some interest.

“If you want to learn something, she’s the one to go to.” Nietzsche, sensing the other party’s suspicion, immediately said innocently, “Platforms… besides Professor Flitwick’s Duel Club, does Hogwarts have any other learning platforms?”

After much deliberation, Hubble and Theodore realized that Hogwarts indeed lacked any public platforms outside of class.

Although Hermione's "study group" wasn't exactly a club, it was still a way to deceive oneself and make one feel the atmosphere of after-school learning.

Besides, the school rules do not explicitly prohibit students from forming study groups without permission.

"The starting age for joining the Duel Club is passing the OWLs assessment. You have five years before that, and the platform is also very important in terms of social interaction."

Since they don't want to be overshadowed by families like the Malfoys and Parkinsons, they naturally need to know how to make good use of all resources.

"I understand, social maneuvering..."

“Just like those clubs at Oxford University!” Theodore Nott slapped his forehead, adding to Hubble’s point, “Many students from top and elite schools can use this to gain connections after graduation.”

The same reason.

In the future, no one knows what achievements the people around them will attain in the magical world. Perhaps someone will become a businessman, a politician, a thief, or an ordinary worker...

But this means that they can rebuild new connections based on the friendships they formed on the platform, and at that time, their personal networks will spread throughout the entire magical world.

Points connect to form lines, and lines weave together to form surfaces.

This is a tremendous force, an unbreakable alliance built on shared interests and camaraderie.

“So, that’s why I’m setting you free.” Ni wiped his hands with the tablecloth, then raised his index finger and poked his heart, saying with a smile, “You won’t make any waves under the rules of purebloods.”

He checked the time and realized it was almost time to go to the basement, otherwise Snape would nag him for ages.

Nietzsche left the two deep in thought and turned to walk toward the marble steps of the hall.

Unfortunately, Malfoy and his friends had just finished dinner and were heading back to their quarters when they ran into Nietzsche on the underground steps. They immediately gave him a look of disgust.

Nietzsche casually brushed off the corner of his clothes that had been touched, and said without turning his head, "Young Master Malfoy, perhaps the rules of purebloods can still be applied for a few more years, but they no longer apply after I arrived."

"What exactly are you trying to do?!"

"Freedom!" he cried. "Even assassination cannot stop the arrival of a new era!"

Cheerful sounds echoed in the basement corridor.

Without turning his head, he stretched out his right hand and made a reverse 'V' sign to the people behind him.

Nietzsche was a student with immense potential and full of unknowns, because you never knew what he would do next, or even use recent events to achieve his own goals... at least that's how Snape saw him.

Weekends were Nietzsche's potion training time, and also Snape's observation time.

“Your task today is the Living Hell Potion.” Snape only acted like a normal professor when talking about potions. “But before that, I need you to explain the whole process.”

There were only the two of them in the entire underground classroom.

Here, Nietzsche's only companions were the bronze crucible, the balance scale, and the silver cleaver before him.

“First, clean the crucible thoroughly…” Ni ran his finger around the inside of the crucible. “If there are stains on copper or tin crucibles, it will greatly increase the likelihood that the medicine will turn into poison.”

From the moment Snape entered, his eyes never left the other man.

Nietzsche's words were met with a long, nasal sound as he urged him to continue. He was now filled with worry and questions as he watched the uncontrolled changes in Slytherin.

"Then chop the narcissus root, add the mugwort infusion, and keep cooking until the liquid in the crucible is like a cup of coffee without milk."

"The habits and medicines of wizards are mostly preserved from the Middle Ages. At that time, only valerian was known as a 'panacea' and had a calming effect, making it a perfect match for sleeping beans."

The accurate narration made Snape squint and thoroughly enjoy it.

“Potions…are amazing, aren’t they?” Snape circled him, seemingly always looking for something to criticize. “Even if a Muggle had all the ingredients for a potion and followed all the steps, they couldn’t make it.”

This is what Snape is most proud of.

Nietzsche understood his meaning; clearly, the headmaster of Slytherin disliked Muggles and the gradual changes taking place within Slytherin.

He was as if he were specifically designed to criticize Nietzsche.

"Because of the 'stirring' step, wizards always use magic to guide the stirring when they use their wands."

“That’s right, that’s why Muggles and Squibs who can’t use magic can’t make potions.” Snape stopped behind him and said smugly, “If you don’t have magic, it’s useless even if you deduce all the ingredients of a potion.”

That's true, otherwise Holmes wouldn't have gotten himself into a dead end.

Unfortunately, Snape only noticed what Muggles couldn't do, while Nietzsche only focused on what Muggles could do and how to do it to the extreme.

"But Muggles will at least write down the dosage and proportion of narcissus root powder and sleepy bean juice."

“The cauldrons in the wizarding world are all different sizes, so everyone will make slight variations in the amount measured, around one spoonful,” Snape explained, though he was displeased by the other party’s superiority based on the Muggle perspective.

Potions... Only on this matter would Snape waste his breath.

"So here's the question: why isn't there a standard for a wizard's cauldron?"

“Every company has a different producer, is that so strange? Mr. Holmes, you should be worried about making it before bed today, instead of focusing your energy on others.”

Ignite the fire and grind the daffodil roots while waiting for the crucible to heat up.

Nietzsche's goal has been achieved: from these minor details, one can gain a rough understanding of a corner of the magical world. Clearly, the things handled by the government departments here are extremely trivial and disorganized.

First, the Ministry of Magic's politics and academia may be completely divided.

Secondly, regarding individual vendors selling crucibles and similar items, they only need to ensure that the items are not of inferior quality. In other words, the capacity affected by the shape or carving is not their responsibility.

This leads to a very serious problem—because of the Ministry of Magic's lack of control, the dosage of potions can never be kept consistent.

"No wonder it's so blurry..."

Nietzsche couldn't care less about anything else; he could only pour the standard spoonful into the crucible first.

Fortunately, the steam gradually turned from white to light blue. Only then did he add valerian and sedative bean juice, turning the potion into a light lilac liquid.

It's like scooping up the part of the lake that reflects the moon.

Nietzsche first cut the sleeping beans in half with a silver knife, then squeezed out the juice from the side.

“Mr. Holmes, have you misremembered?” Snape, surprised by his actions, said, “The book says to slice the sleep beans…not squeeze them…”

"Outdated. Any Muggle who has been to school knows that squeezing puts pressure on an object and makes it easier for juice to be released."

Otherwise, where would freshly squeezed juice come from?

Nietzsche wished he could squeeze a box of beans into a large bowl of sleep-inducing bean juice and give it to the wizard in charge of updating the magic book.

“Looks like you’re not so stupid after all.” Snape suddenly showed a hint of admiration. “In fact, the textbooks were all written by wizards in the academic world, and the most recent one was before 1946.”

More than fifty years, half a century.

It's hard to imagine what the government of the magical world is doing. Is it just about socializing every day?

This is the problem: wizards are completely unaware of how far behind they are, still complacent about their magical abilities, and approach academic work with a pre-reflective attitude.

"So the shortage of potion geniuses isn't a problem with wizards at all!" Nietzsche said angrily. "That's an irresponsible attitude. If the Ministry of Magic could standardize its practices and update them in a timely manner, the number of academics could at least double!"

"enough!"

Snape sternly stopped his student.

He understood all these principles. Hogwarts only had one Potions professor, and he had almost no one to talk to. That suppressed, strong desire to discuss academic matters with others was always kept in his heart.

It was somewhat frightening to realize why professors like Quirrell and Flitwick liked Nietzsche.

He always catered to Nietzsche's tastes, and once he got into the mood, Nietzsche would fool himself into it too.

“You know absolutely nothing about the magical world, stop pretending.” He glared at Nietzsche and the pot of imperfect Hellfire Potion. “You can’t even… can’t even make a standard potion!”

Nietzsche calmly replied, "Professor, I was just doing what the book said."

"Because that's wrong! Finally, you need to stir it seven times counter-clockwise, then clockwise..."

Snape stopped mid-sentence, staring blankly and breathing heavily.

Looking at the pot of not-so-clear Hellfire soup, he realized the other party's meticulous logic, and his rebuttal had gradually entered Nietzsche's logical system.