Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

“That’s always been the case.” Bain crossed his arms and nodded in agreement. “But many of the female centaurs here fall for it…”

Ferenze nimbly waded across the stream and came to Harry's side, running his fingers through Harry's trimmed hair, where many centaurs once again saw the indelible scar on his forehead.

This displeased Harry, who took a few steps back and looked at the other person warily.

“Hagrid and I are going to find the unicorn and that guy. You guys follow Ferenzhe and leave here.” Bane patted Nietzsche on the shoulder and then called to the rest of his companions.

Fortunately, thanks to Nietzsche's help, the entire patrol was unharmed.

Ferrenze led Harry, Ron, and the others away from the camp via a side path. Along the way, they were all filled with fear because of the centaurs' words, especially Neville, who was more timid.

“What does this have to do with that person?” Neville’s voice was filled with uncontrollable fear.

"Because of the blood of the unicorn, child, killing a pure unicorn is a cruel thing. Although its blood can prolong life, it will also be cursed... Think about it, who would do such an inhuman thing?"

Ferencze's words were like an owl's claws, suddenly gripping Neville's heart.

"But isn't he dead?!"

“I don’t think so, Mr. Potter… Although the news is shocking, it is true.” Ferrenzer gestured for everyone to bow their heads, careful of the drooping branches. “He… is back.”

Each with their own thoughts, the group followed Ferencze and ran outside.

Some were worried, some were afraid, and Hermione was naturally the former. She was just about to comfort Harry when she suddenly found him lying on the ground.

Harry clutched his forehead in pain, feeling as if his head was on fire.

"I can feel it, I see green light..."

Ferrenze wanted to turn around and grab Harry by the collar, putting him on his back, but as soon as he reached out, he heard something sliding on the fallen leaves, moving very fast, and rushing towards them.

Nietzsche quickly understood the green light Harry was referring to.

"Hehehe...Avada Kedavra!"

Chapter Sixty-Eight: Do not go gentle into a good night

It was precisely at this moment that Harry's wounds began to cause excruciating pain.

When the pain reached a certain level, he couldn't even see what was happening in front of him. He could only vaguely see a few green lights flashing from the side, and then his feet suddenly dangled in the air.

"Take him and leave first!" Neville suddenly shouted after seeing Harry being lifted onto the horse.

“Navie, now is not the time to play the hero.” Ron bent over, trying to minimize the possibility of being exposed.

Everyone understood what was happening from that fleeting green light. It wasn't the Green Spark Curse; the incantation uttered from that hoarse throat was a true killing curse, certain death upon contact.

Neville's legs trembled as he gripped his wand like a two-handed sword.

“When I was little, my Uncle Algi almost drowned me at the Black Lake dock once in an attempt to make me generate magical energy, and another time I almost fell to my death from the balcony of my house… But that’s nothing.”

If the mysterious man is indeed coming for Harry Potter, then he's willing to be truly brave just this once, even if it's the last time.

Although he was indeed very afraid...of death that was so close at hand.

"rustle"

"Petrify them all! It's freezing cold!" As soon as Neville heard the rustling of the bushes, his nerves were on edge, and he immediately began to rapidly unleash everything he had learned in that direction.

But the curses made no sound after passing through the bushes.

“The Longbottom family… a child… huh?” The owner of the voice seemed somewhat surprised. “Come closer, let me see… You’re just like your parents, always showing off. I suppose they’ve learned their lesson by now.”

Nietzsche discovered that Neville had suddenly broken down.

His eyes were fixed on his surroundings, and with each blink, tears welled up in his eyes. Moonlight shone through the gaps in the leaves, illuminating Neville's face and revealing the streaks of water on his cheeks.

Even so, Neville just bit his lip and didn't make a sound.

"Save some money..." Hermione hid behind him and quietly handed the pistol to Nietzsche.

"Poor child... Do your parents still remember you?" The mysterious man let out a low, chuckle.

The sound suddenly seemed to be moving further away, as if the other person was trying to chase after Harry. But at the same time, Hermione raised her wand and fired a red spark into the sky, instantly enveloping the area in a bright red light.

Taking advantage of the brief moment, Nietzsche spotted something moving through the woods and quickly raised his hand to shoot.

After two loud bangs, Nietzsche still instinctively kept pulling the trigger forward, making a few clicks of the magazine empty.

"I told you to be more frugal!" Hermione yelled, covering her ears.

"Only two shots, how am I supposed to save any?" Nietzsche, knowing he was in the wrong, tucked the fire poker back into his belt. "Now you can avoid one more problem..."

"Neville, pull yourself together!"

Ron watched his dazed companion, anxiously tugging at his robe. Perhaps he pulled too hard, accidentally tearing a sleeve. He also tripped and fell.

But Navei covered his head, shook it absentmindedly, and sobbed softly.

It's hard to imagine that he just dared to attack the mysterious man.

“He’s been affected.” Hermione examined Neville’s eyes and then said, “His pupils are dilated, and he can’t concentrate… It could be some kind of dark magic that can affect a person’s mind. Ron, you stay here and protect him.”

Upon hearing the reassuring sound of horses' hooves in the distance, he immediately chased after them with Nietzsche.

Upon seeing the staggering figure in black robes, the two simultaneously raised their wands, enveloping the mysterious man with magic imbued with determination and rage. The man was like a chick in an egg, struggling desperately in the ever-compressing space.

“Only he would take such a... petty trick seriously…” The mysterious man’s cloak was ripped off.

What is that?

The area that should have been the whites of his eyes was completely filled with black, with only a small scarlet pupil in the center, which seemed to be the source of violence and hatred. The mysterious man bent his hand at an eerie angle and pointed it at the two of them.

A flash of blood-red light appeared, and Hermione felt a sharp pain in her chest.

She pressed hard on her chest, gasping for the cool air around her, hoping it would ease the pain... or not? No, if she didn't do that, she would forget to breathe because of the intense pain.

Nietzsche had to free his left hand to catch the fallen Hermione.

"Unforgivable... Unforgivable curse..." she uttered through clenched teeth, enduring the excruciating pain.

“Holmes, don’t block my way. This is a warning.” The mysterious man forcefully pushed aside the ever-compressing magic, his tone tinged with admiration. “Shouldn’t Slytherins help each other?”

He seemed quite pleased with Nietzsche's portrayal of Slytherin.

The clash of magic destroyed the surrounding trees, the impact sent Nietzsche flying, and those closer to the mysterious man were reduced to wood chips.

The magical power within a young wizard is vastly different from that of an adult wizard.

"So you're that guy who won't even let anyone mention your name, and you look a bit ugly... Do all the Death Eaters have to have their noses cut off if they join you?" Nietzsche, lying on the ground, gestured a few times to his own face.

“This is the symbol of Slytherin,” the mysterious man said irritably.

As it spoke, a few drops of silvery-white liquid fell to the ground; that was the blood of the unicorn.

“Then why don’t you turn your head into a snake… a snake-man?” Nietzsche said deliberately in a contemptuous tone. “If that’s the case… I hope, I hope the founder of Gryffindor wasn’t a sphinx.”

This indeed angered the mysterious man, who stomped hard on Nietzsche's chest.

Again, his chest... Nietzsche had lost count of how many times his ribs had broken; he could now smell the stench of decay emanating from the other man.

"You're a master of spells, a genius. I... I actually thought highly of you from the start." The mysterious man suddenly laughed, turning his gaze to Hermione beside him. "Was it because of this Mudblood?"

“I can tell Harry which way to go.” Nietzsche’s attention was diverted by the curse.

"No, it doesn't matter anymore. I have plenty of opportunities to kill him... and you... you're as annoying as a vixen, Holmes. You and I are very similar, really, so I'm going to help you face some reality."

The mysterious person will not retaliate directly like an ordinary person.

He enjoys making people feel pain and regret, so he likes to start with their weakest points.

"Crucio!"

Just like before, Nietzsche did not experience that excruciating pain, but Hermione's suppressed sobs and the sound of her convulsing body rubbing against the fallen leaves made him feel a pain that went deep into his bones.

The mysterious man seemed to be showing off his best trick, and every syllable of the incantation was very clear.

"Heart-piercing—bone-gouging—"

“Holmes, we wizards shouldn’t suppress ourselves… You have to attend this class, Potter? I’ve never taken it so seriously before. Let me guess… Dumbledore must really like you, right?”

"Is it because of your eyes, hmm?"

The unicorn carcass was placed on Hagrid's inevitable path, and his target always seemed to be Nietzsche Holmes.

“Mimble Wimble!” Nietzsche angrily jabbed him with his wand.

However, the Tongue-Stopping Curse was simply neutralized by the white Iron Armor Curse.

"Four seconds have passed...?" The mysterious man's bloodshot eyes were filled with madness. "A friendly reminder: the Cruciatus Curse can only last for a maximum of fifteen seconds. Your Mudblood will either go insane or die from convulsions."

“What do you want!” Nietzsche spat on his trouser leg.

"Kill me, Holmes... If you've got the guts, stop me with a decent spell..."

The light vanished, leaving only endless darkness in the place where the sun could not reach. Hermione, her body convulsing, unconsciously moved little by little toward Nietzsche, the dry leaves cracking in the air.

The silent man roars in the good night.

Nietzsche's eyes welled up with tears; in the end, he could no longer maintain the rationality he had always upheld.

“Crucio…” The hatred and anger could no longer be suppressed. He trembled as he raised his wand, which was covered in unicorn hair. The deep red light was like blood flowing from the wand.

He had never wanted anyone to die so badly.

That desire was amplified infinitely in Hermione's sobs, and he imitated the description in "The Poisonous Magic," hiding his desire in magical energy and repeatedly releasing it towards her.

If once doesn't work, try twice; if twice doesn't work, try three times...

'Only if he dies and suffers will Hermione be safe. Can't you help me?' Nietzsche stared intently at the wand in his hand, cursing, pleading, and scolding the inanimate object inside.

Nietzsche vowed that he would not give in to Voldemort's wishes, and that he would never compromise.

"Crucio!!"

He was roaring and howling.

It angrily denounced the retreat of light.