Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

If the black wizard is not caught, will the British government classify him as a potential terrorist?

Hermione, with her keen political sense, sensed danger. Whether out of selfishness or a sense of righteousness, she could no longer refuse Nietzsche's advice; in a grander narrative, any morality was futile.

"Yes...the magical world..." She didn't have time to go upstairs to change out of her pajamas, and just threw on a black trench coat before heading out. "I suddenly remembered something, I need to go out for a bit!"

"Where are you going? Are you coming back for lunch?" Mrs. Granger shouted.

"It won't be long!"

Hermione pulled her collar tighter and rubbed her hands together as she walked out of the residential area.

It would take about half an hour to walk from here to Baker Street, and with the bad weather and the difficult snow, it would probably take even longer. So Hermione ultimately chose to take the straight path.

It cuts directly between Charing Cross and Holborn Street.

She used to never dare to walk through alleys, as they were usually hideouts for thugs and street gangs.

However, perhaps due to the weather, the usually bustling streets were now deserted, with only a few elderly beggars huddled against the graffiti-covered walls.

"Miss Tianyou... Tianyou!"

Just then, Hermione saw a woman with an umbrella and a mink collar bend down and casually toss several pounds in front of them, one side bearing the name of Queen Elizabeth II and the other the name of the inventor George.

This woman seems to have a kind heart, but I don't understand why such a wealthy young lady would walk through such a back alley.

Hermione wanted to continue on her way, but suddenly several middle-aged men stood up from the group of beggars. They all had some scars on their faces and put one hand in their pockets.

"Could you give us some money, sweetheart?" They slowly surrounded the woman with ill intent, their voices trembling with coldness. "You've already given it to those old men, so please have pity on us..."

The man facing the wealthy young lady noticed Hermione behind her but paid her no attention.

"Oh dear, they're too old to move, can't you healthy people go to work on your own?"

"Consider it pitiful, but if you'd like, we can also show our robust side."

"Then I'm really lucky." The woman appeared somewhat shy and frightened.

Want to take action?

If she intervenes, she might receive a warning from the Ministry of Magic the next day; but if she doesn't, she can only watch innocent people be bullied. For Hermione, this is a trolley problem.

She suddenly began to loathe the way the Ministry of Magic controlled wizards.

“I’ll call the police!” Hermione shouted, mustering her courage.

“You little brat, I don’t have time to mess around with you!” One of the burly men pulled a small knife out of his pocket and brandished it at Hermione. “Now you can choose to get lost, or we’re not willing to do any extra work!”

Hermione could guess that this extra income was some kind of criminal activity—kidnapping and extortion.

But just as the other man impatiently tried to distract her, the woman flicked her right hand and grabbed the baton that had slipped from her sleeve. She first raised her knee and struck the man in front of her in his most vulnerable spot, then swung the baton backward.

The person who had just been threatening Hermione immediately shut up.

What came out of his mouth was not just a scream, but also saliva with teeth and blood streaks, which was particularly eye-catching in the snow. The woman stepped on the dagger that had fallen to the ground.

"Now, don't move." As the woman swung the stick, she also unsheathed the blade hidden inside. She turned around, ripped open another person's clothes, twisted them open, and pinned him against the wall. "I told you I was lucky today."

It turned out to be a retractable dagger. She pressed the blade against the man's throat with one hand while pulling out his wallet from inside his clothes.

Faced with this imminent threat, the man immediately raised his hands with the smoothness of a seasoned veteran, clearly having been treated to judicial "milk tea" by the police many times. His face was filled with regret and pain.

I never expected it to be such a thorny thorn, not even a rose with thorns.

"get out."

Hermione watched as the two thugs tumbled and crawled away.

When the woman turned around, Hermione realized how beautiful she was. The woman simply brushed off some unseen dust and looked at Hermione with a sweet smile again.

That smile is so captivating; just one glance is enough to enchant you.

"Thank you, sweetheart." She brushed the snow off Hermione's head as she stared in disbelief and said with a grin, "But don't come to a place like this again."

"I...uh...I was just in a hurry today..."

"Where you're going? I should be able to get out of this alley, at least on my way."

The woman moved the umbrella closer to Hermione's head and put the man's wallet in her own pocket. Hermione hesitated, wanting to comment on the man's behavior, but for some reason, she swallowed her words.

Although she didn't say anything, her eyes were fixed on the other person's pocket.

"I'm going to Baker Street..."

"What a coincidence, so am I."

"You know Sherlock Holmes too?" Hermione understood now; it seemed this was another abnormal human being.

“Of course I know him, I’m the person he misses most.” She pulled Hermione past Vanessa’s Bakery and bought a few honey loaves with the money she had stolen earlier. “Let me guess, you must be Nietzsche’s…friend?”

The woman's gaze was meaningful, making Hermione very uncomfortable.

But who would refuse to walk with a beautiful woman? Even Hermione, being a woman herself, would unconsciously make excuses for her after seeing the woman's jewel-like, sparkling eyes:

It's okay, she only received some compensation for emotional distress, it doesn't count as robbery, she acted in self-defense.

Damn it! If that's the case, then doesn't that mean she herself belongs to the abnormal category?!

It's been strange lately. Today, two women who seemed like complete strangers to Mrs. Hudson walked toward the Holmes house. She stood warily in the stairwell, listening to the sounds upstairs, and only relaxed when she saw Nietzsche come out to greet them.

"Aunt Eileen?"

This beautiful and dignified woman is naturally the 'woman' that Sherlock mentioned.

If the wizards heard this, they would think he was a terrorist like 'that person'.

"Where did you go to school? I didn't see you when I came to visit Sherlock before." Eileen squatted down, cupped Nietzsche's face and kissed it. "Not bad, just the right amount of elasticity, and it feels better than before."

In Hermione's mind, Nietzsche had always been a representative of rationality.

But now this representative of rationality is actually blushing...blushing! She can't be mistaken, can she?!

"Ugh, disgusting." Nietzsche saw Hermione behind her and immediately wiped the lipstick mark off his face with his sleeve. "Go inside. I won't help a criminal like you a second time."

The marks that remained on his face blended with the blush on his cheeks.

Even so, he acted as if he had been touched by a poisonous tentacle, immediately jumping aside to make way for Eileen... It's better to leave this dangerous woman to Sherlock.

She is like a cluster of poisonous thorns woven into a work of art; you can only look at her, not touch her at will.

"Who exactly is she?" Hermione came up from the bottom of the stairs and quietly handed her a personal handkerchief.

"The Countess of the Crime Empire, the woman who tricked Sherlock Holmes twice, Irene Adler."

"You're lying! She's clearly very close to you!"

"Because one of those two times was thanks to me."

Chapter Fifty-Six: And so Eileen opened her eyes.

"I smelled a fragrance, it was Vanessa Bakery's special honey recipe."

"I bought it with that girl, and stopped by to visit you on the way."

"What's wrong? Nobody here will miss you except Nietzsche."

"Just making sure you're safe. After all... if someone wants to kill me, you won't be able to escape either."

From the moment they entered, the atmosphere in the room was tense. Sherlock and Irene sat on either side of the fireplace, while Nietzsche watched the show with a bottle of caramel cookies, not wanting to miss a single second.

Nietzsche even wanted to wait for Watson to return and then broadcast the story again.

“Let me see, aha, it’s fresh off the press.” Eileen pulled a letter from the table; she had come so suddenly that Nietzsche hadn’t even had time to clean it up.

"The Ministry of Magic... has learned that you used the Levitation Charm at home at 11:00 AM yesterday... According to Section 13 of the Statute of Secrets, any activity that could attract the attention of non-magical members is a violation... First warning, second..."

Then they will be expelled.

Hermione's worst fears came true, but Nietzsche, the person involved, was completely oblivious, happily swinging his legs like an ordinary child with crumbs all over his mouth.

Eileen was very surprised and stopped cutting the honey bread.

“Wizard, isn’t it fascinating?” Sherlock stared intently at her hand holding the bread knife. “Now you know what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into… your position in it is very dangerous.”

The unknown represents unseen dangers, meaning she could become a victim at any moment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe it's just your...prank?" Eileen leaned back and said lazily, "I didn't know you guys liked playing these kinds of fantasy games. Is this some kind of role-playing trend these days?"

"The person who wrote to you was also a professor, Eileen. It was you who revealed the whereabouts of ordinary people to those people."

Of course, Eileen didn't know the identity of the person behind the deceased. She was just a mouthpiece for the person behind the scenes, repeating Quirrell's letter to them. But that was the most difficult part.

There are misunderstandings between people regarding information, which means... at least the person behind the scenes has absolute trust in Eileen.

How can someone like that be trusted?

“She’s scared…” Nietzsche whispered to Hermione.

"You mean Eileen has been caught red-handed?"

"Not only that, but someone like her can't be held hostage by any leverage; she's more likely to be a deadly threat."

Hermione thought about what had happened before and tacitly agreed with his idea. Eileen was not the kind of weak woman, but that also meant how deeply she was caught in this vortex of struggle, and that she was being kept in the dark.

For a moment, both sides fell silent.

"Don't joke around, wizards and stuff like that..." Eileen suddenly chuckled.

“Do you want me to be fired to prove it?” Nietzsche retorted. “Why couldn’t you have come with me yesterday? Of course, if Hermione is willing to receive a warning letter, then I might let you see me again.”

Hermione nudged him with her elbow and said coldly, "I told you, that's the last time I'll make an exception."

Thus, Holmes gained the upper hand.

Despite being at the forefront of the storm, Eileen showed no fear. She looked at Nietzsche, took a few deep breaths, and quickly adapted to the changes, recalling the recent news.

She quickly realized what was happening, and the knife with the breadcrumb stuck in it stopped at her lips.

“You have two choices: one is to leave, which is what you’re best at… to disappear from England without a trace; the other is to go to Scotland Yard and be placed in protective custody.” Sherlock, filled with the joy of victory, began to savor his surprise gift.

But after seeing Sherlock swallow it, Eileen sighed, pursed her lips, and smiled again.

Seeing her change, Sherlock quickly realized something was wrong. As soon as he got up, he felt a dizzy feeling of lightheadedness. He tilted his head, forced his eyes open, and fell forward after taking only a few steps.

"Be careful!" Ellie seemed to have planned everything in advance. She got up and hugged his head, the action was extremely intimate.