Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

Chapter Seventy-Eight Oh~ my old buddy~

Hermione felt incredibly unlucky, especially unlucky for the Holmes family!

Why...why did she run into Nietzsche at the Oxford University Library one morning?

And she even saw Professor Quirrell, who had just retired, chatting and laughing with him?

"Cheer up, will you?" Nietzsche said casually, holding a bottle of Ramune soda. "I've spent the whole morning with you in the library, and now all we need is for you to come with us to meet a...famous university professor."

He and Quirrell sandwiched Hermione in the middle, and the two of them even clinked glasses on top of her head, laughing and joking.

“Professor Quirrell, I thought you would be more mature…” Hermione raised her paw and patted it haphazardly on her head.

“Miss Granger, are you saying this to someone who has died once?” Quirrell said with a grin. “Maturity means taking responsibility, independence... but it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the best parts of life.”

Hermione lowered her head, not wanting to say anything.

That's it, now even the only somewhat normal professor has been corrupted by Nietzsche.

“I don’t want to meet a criminal Napoleon, and I certainly don’t want to put my parents in danger,” she sighed. “My Granger family really doesn’t want to get involved in your Holmes family’s affairs.”

“But when danger comes, you always have to be prepared to better protect your family, instead of saying, ‘Oh, this wasn’t in my plans,’” Nietzsche said in a high-pitched voice, mimicking Hermione’s tone.

Hermione was furious at his smug look.

"Do you even realize how pathetic you are right now, like Draco Malfoy?"

"Hey, that's going too far... You can insult people all you want, but you can't be this rude."

She couldn't imagine that Nietzsche had spent several days on guard duty at the Oxford Library, and even more unbelievably, Professor Quirrell (former) had joined in his ramblings and seemed to enjoy it.

What's going on? Does Quirrell act like this in front of people he knows?

They are somewhat neurotic and easily fall into excessive excitement or tension.

Oxford, located near the Thames River, dates back to the 12th century. The entire campus is integrated with the city and doesn't even have a formal signboard. It houses four museums and a theater.

Nietzsche always felt a sense of awe when he thought about the rivalry between Oxford and Cambridge—Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes were practically living examples.

Quirrell was wearing a wizard's robe today, but he still looked very inconspicuous on campus.

"Give up your foolish tricks, this fish won't be fooled..."

As they reached a doorway, classical music from a gramophone reached their ears. Quirrell straightened his collar, tucked the empty soda bottle into his sleeve, and made it disappear.

"Schubert's 'The Fisherman's Song,' your taste hasn't changed." Quirrell walked in calmly.

The office was spacious. A professor and a student stood next to a blackboard. The professor had a brownish-yellow beard, a broad forehead, slightly sunken eyes, and a slightly hunched back due to years of strenuous work.

The professor said a few words in a low voice and then asked the students around him to leave temporarily.

“Quirinas, I didn’t know you had two children.” He paused noticeably, then smiled amiably. “If you’re asking me to take care of them, that might be inconvenient, as I’m about to start my lecture tour.”

Hermione, holding the book, perfectly embodied her role as a little girl observing everything around her with great interest.

“No, I just brought my students to say goodbye.” Quirrell deliberately emphasized their identities. “I’ve already been noticed.”

“If you need any help, just let me know.” Professor Moriarty shook his hand and gestured for them to make themselves at home. “Tea or coffee? Or spirits?”

"Cafe."

Quirrell didn't mince words; he simply snapped his fingers, and the cold brew pot and cups in the room started working on their own.

It appears that the two have indeed known each other for a long time.

“I need someone like you, my friend.” Moriarty gestured for the two to sit down and continued, “It seems you are quite popular with Quirinas. To have students like you in his eyes… Let me guess, you must be Nietzsche.”

He exudes the air of a professor in every gesture; if one didn't know his true background, one would probably have been fooled.

“Some people need me more, James.”

"Hmm... Do you know what he was doing before?" Moriarty didn't refute, but simply said kindly to the two children, "Your professor is a very smart person, but unfortunately he doesn't break the rules much."

"For example?" Nietzsche probed.

"For example, he dared to talk to an ordinary person about wizards... You know, when two asteroids collide, they affect the surrounding things. It's a pity he couldn't take that step with me."

Hermione silently scraped the rim of the cup with her fingertips.

"Even if it affects many innocent people?" she suppressed her anger.

“That was inevitable, child,” Moriarty said. “The powder keg between wizards and the outside world is already swelled enough...isn’t it, Nietzsche Holmes?”

Nietzsche moved closer to Hermione and placed his hand on the back of Hermione's hand.

There was nothing to worry about. When Nietzsche deliberately sent someone to intercept Hogwarts' acceptance letter, he already knew that the other party had his eye on Sherlock Holmes, and such threatening words could not sway his heart.

The law of celestial mechanics states that when two objects collide, there will always be an impact on the surrounding area.

Therefore, it is necessary to let Hermione face the potential danger directly.

“In fact, I admire you.” Moriarty relaxed his muscles and leaned back in his chair. “You are different from Sherlock, so you can understand what I mean—some wizards are not worthy of entering the new world.”

Quirrell chuckled, his hands already tucked into his sleeves, his wand already in hand.

Putting aside attacks, if there's any danger, running away with Nietzsche and Hermione immediately is absolutely no problem.

"From a macro perspective, I think you are very persuasive, but... you have overlooked certain individuals who, while sometimes unable to influence the overall trend, can still change the outcome."

Nietzsche faced the pressure from his opponent head-on, trying his best to remain calm.

“But I still hope you will consider my feelings.” Moriarty took it as a joke.

He was currently only interested in winning over Quirinas Quiro, or perhaps out of admiration for Nietzsche, which is why he remained amicable, concealing the cunning and ruthlessness that lay beneath.

So he got up, exchanged a few pleasantries, and then went out to give a lesson.

Only after hearing the door close did Nietzsche lean back with a sigh of relief, staring blankly at the chandelier above him.

This was the first time he had met someone so deeply hidden and without any flaws. Apart from the threats, every word the other person said resonated deeply with him, especially the issues concerning wizards and Muggles.

"Is he threatening you with me?" Hermione said belatedly.

“But I didn’t fall for that,” Nietzsche said, his eyes closed and his voice drawn out. “Otherwise, why do you think I called you here… Darling, Professor Moriarty isn’t as conventional as you are.”

Hermione was somewhat bewildered, but mostly angry.

In fact, the fact that she could use herself as a threat was enough to show how important she was to Nietzsche. Of course, this might also be Moriarty's own guess... Hermione thought to herself without a care.

"So you really agree with his views?" Hermione asked.

“It’s hard to describe, how should I put it?” Nietzsche explained, “When most wizards now place all their hopes on a boy, a narrow vision will only produce more absurd results.”

If Voldemort were to be resurrected, how would the Ministry of Magic still be able to keep quiet about it?

Is it possible to expect Harry Potter to represent all wizards and reconcile with the severely affected British government?

If that time really comes, Harry Potter will probably become the new scapegoat... In the end, wizards and Muggles will definitely merge someday in the future, because conflicts don't just disappear on their own.

But Mauriatti, whom Nietzsche opposed, used such unscrupulous means to prematurely ignite the powder keg.

“So you need to gain enough influence at Hogwarts,” Quirrell suggested. “I think Miss Granger’s ‘study group’ would be very promising!”

“Professor Quirrell,” Hermione said resentfully.

"I'm just suggesting that if you want to stop innocent lives from becoming victims, you have to use some methods. This is a lesson I learned!" Quirrell recalled the past and suddenly became a little neurotic.

He was like a butler who worried about the young masters and ladies.

“Moriarty couldn’t possibly commit crimes for the sake of committing crimes; there must be a need.” Nietzsche pursed his lips.

But from the beginning until now, he has never been involved with anyone, and there is absolutely no evidence to support his claims.

What does a trader like him hope to achieve?

Chapter Seventy-Nine: Holmes's Butler

When Quirrell was doing his work on Muggle research, he would travel to different places to learn.

In his words, "If a wizard wants to understand Muggles, he must go deep into the Muggle world." Thus, Professor Moriarty became one of Quirrell's few friends in the Muggle world... even though this friend would take advantage of him.

Quirrell learned a great deal from him, from Muggle history to the cultures of various places.

However, he could not be said to have betrayed Professor Moriarty; he simply chose another person who was more compatible with him—Nietzsche Holmes, who was not as devoid of compassion as the professor and was on the verge of moral depravity.

After they returned to Baker Street from Oxford, Quirrell had one more thing to deal with: accommodation.

"You're planning to live here?" Mrs. Hudson blinked incredulously. "Are you really sure?"

Looking at Quirrell's attire, she figured he must be some kind of explorer. The fact that he was given such a beautiful pressed flower upon their first meeting made it hard not to suspect something.

“Why can’t I stay here? Even if it’s haunted, I won’t be scared…” Quirrell took out a small piece of gold from his pocket and placed it in her hand. “How’s the rent this month?”

The moment he handed over the gold nuggets, even Nietzsche and Hermione were stunned.

“A month? Good heavens... I don’t know what kind of house you usually live in, but this is enough to cover half a year’s rent!” Mrs. Hudson scratched several marks on the surface of the gold nugget with her fingernail.

It's real pure gold, not a gold-plated scam.

Mrs. Hudson simply ignored the strangeness in her clothing and behavior—who doesn't have a few quirks?

"Is that Galleon?" Hermione pulled Quirrell aside and whispered in his ear, "But I read the description, and it said that the currency in the wizarding world isn't real gold..."

"Don't worry, I traded it to the goblin for Galleons, it wasn't an Irish goblin trick."

Quirrell indicated that the other party should not worry.

"Colonel Philip lives downstairs. He likes quiet... He's a kind man as long as you don't deliberately scare him." Mrs. Hudson adopted the demeanor of a landlady. "Judging from your appearance, you don't seem like an ordinary person."

She didn't see through Quirrell's identity, but rather his 'ordinary' financial situation.

Paying rent with gold so casually and keeping a low profile, just like an explorer in a movie who goes to ancient tombs to search for treasure every day, possessing countless riches... Mrs. Hudson had already started playing the movie in her mind.

"Are there any taboos?" she continued.

“No, it’s entirely up to you,” Quirrell said gently. “Just knock beforehand if you need anything…”

"Oh, I understand, no problem." Mrs. Hudson covered her mouth and chuckled to herself. "Everyone has their own secrets, it's normal. The previous tenant in your room was a woman who liked women."

Landlord: Wink~

Quirrell's lips twitched slightly, but he gave a polite smile.

The room was upstairs from Holmes' house. Pushing open the door, I found that the furniture inside was quite complete, with a feel of the late 19th to early 20th century. Most of it was made of wood and covered with a dust cloth.