Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

"I don't think I need to say much about what happened to Colin recently..." Hermione cleared her throat and glanced around at them. "I hope you can take steps to protect yourselves and avoid going out at night for a while."

George and Fred let out a disheartened sound.

But no one refuted it. Just looking at Hermione's serious face, you could tell that after experiencing all the big and small things last year, no one dared to think that they could compare to those purebloods, so they respected them very much.

“But where is the murderer?” said Hannah of Hufflepuff.

“Gryffindor all think it is…” Dean Thomas shook his head, not daring to finish his sentence, “Hermione, do you know anything?”

Harry sat expressionlessly in his chair, not angry at their suspicions. In fact, he had been annoyed by them several times already and was used to it.

But Slytherins were the first to refute them and clear Harry of suspicion.

“It can’t be Potter,” Hubble said. “You know, the Chamber of Secrets was opened because someone didn’t like people who weren’t pure-bloods… Weasley! Shut up, this has nothing to do with Salazar Slytherin!”

Ron shifted the blame onto the founders, which greatly displeased the Slytherin snakes.

"Even if he didn't intend to harm anyone, that old madman's bastard was helping the murderer kill people!" he said indignantly.

Just as the two colleges were about to start arguing again, Nie banged on the table forcefully.

"Is this acceptable? Making a scene here will only give the person behind the scenes a reason to laugh at you." Nietzsche waved his wand downwards, pinning down the people who had stood up. "I brought you here so you could learn some skills."

Everyone immediately fell silent, refocusing their attention on the top of the long table.

No one sitting here doubts Nietzsche and Hermione's abilities; everyone has witnessed that. If you're not convinced, you can ask those who have had their arms broken.

Come to think of it... they finally managed to learn something beyond the textbook in the study group.

"What kind of dark magic? Or war magic?" George exclaimed excitedly, counting on his fingers. "Or perhaps a defensive spell?"

Hermione ignored the Weasley twins' expectations.

“They are some practical spells from successful experiments, as well as dueling techniques.” Hermione frowned, patiently scolding, “The two houses can practice together. Time… the lunch break will be fine.”

This was a good suggestion, and the Slytherin members immediately agreed.

After all, nobody thought it was a bad thing... The reason they joined Hermione's study group was not only to be exposed to different knowledge, but more importantly, for greater benefits.

Isn’t this coming?

Seeing how decisive and efficient the snake was, Ron and his group naturally wouldn't be at a disadvantage, so they agreed.

“If you ask me…isn’t this more effective than the prefect’s demands?” Fred said with a hint of sarcasm. “All he ever says is ‘the professor will handle everything,’ as if we’re just sitting here waiting to die.”

Ginny Weasley sat down next to Harry, her face pale, clutching a notebook.

This is clearly a dig at Percy.

Nietzsche sat next to Hermione and heard someone hum softly; clearly, she liked Fred's words.

“If we do nothing, by the time the murderer is caught, half the Muggles in the school will probably be beaten down by someone like Malfoy!” Neville angrily waved his fist a few times.

"Alright, so regarding the timing of the duel training..."

"A duel? What duel?" Lockhart suddenly ran in through the Great Hall doors, greeting everyone enthusiastically. "Ah ha~ Miss Granger, I was just thinking of asking you to continue fixing Weasley's cars."

Hermione lowered her head awkwardly, counting the rings of wood grain on the table.

What bad luck! Just what I feared came true.

Lockhart looked at Slytherin and Gryffindor sitting together, very happy. He seemed to feel that his wish for 'world peace' was one step closer, so he waved kindly to the two little ones.

"I've protected myself countless times, so why don't you come to me with this kind of question?"

The professor walked over, dragging his crimson robe, and flashed his pearly white teeth.

Nietzsche's reaction, however, was unexpected by most people. He seemed to welcome the flamboyant Lockhart... because in his view, it was like someone offering a pillow when you're about to fall asleep.

"I'm just worried you won't have the time. After all, you need to write a new novel, teach classes, and also prepare the magic car with Granger in your spare time..."

“That’s so thoughtful, kid.” Lockhart glanced at the number of people at the long table, touched, and then immediately said, “But for your safety, I’ve decided to support this proposal… Don’t worry, I’ll go ask the principal for it right away!”

Hermione roared inwardly: I think you just want more attention!

Then again, there's no need to use such an unreliable guy! Nietzsche, Nietzsche, you really aren't picky about food.

Nietzsche shrank his neck, suddenly feeling a chill on it... Could it be that a window was left open?

So, at Nietzsche's urging, Lockhart happily accepted the proposal—he would prepare a large platform for everyone to train thoroughly.

“Look, now we don’t even need to prepare a location.” Nietzsche watched the professor’s running figure and gently applauded him. “Professor Lockhart is so kind to the best student in the whole grade.”

Such a narcissistic person was ultimately devoured by Nietzsche, leaving not even bones behind.

Hermione suddenly felt that the professor was not so annoying anymore, but rather somewhat pitiful.

In the headmaster's office, the four deans were gathered in front of Dumbledore, discussing matters concerning the school's security, when Professor Lockhart suddenly rushed in and threw an application form at Dumbledore.

Albus's expression was like that of a lion cat with a big brain.

"Duel...club?" He glanced at it casually, then looked at Dean Ravenclaw with a puzzled expression.

Albus Dumbledore: Isn't this your club?

Felius Frivi: I don't know!

“That’s right, Headmaster,” Lockhart ignored Snape and pushed him aside. “I took this measure based on the suggestions of Holmes and Granger. It’s a way for students to protect themselves!”

Ah, so it's Nietzsche and Hermione.

Dumbledore and Flitwick immediately understood each other and exchanged a knowing glance.

"Yes, now is the time for the students to learn some skills." Dumbledore said, though he had already given his approval, "but you can't handle it all by yourself. Why don't you find an assistant?"

Lockhart stiffly took the application form and glanced at the people in front of him.

Finding an assistant...that's a real challenge.

Professor McGonagall, the universally acknowledged master of Transfiguration in the wizarding world and also the vice-principal of Hogwarts, is definitely someone you can't afford to offend;

Professor Sprout, a master of herbalism, has nothing to do with dueling, so he's useless as an assistant; he can't just stand by and act as a healer.

Professor Flitwick, the dueling champion in his youth, is now over a hundred years old, but his rich experience makes him a force to be reckoned with. Moreover, Lockhart recently heard that he has made a new breakthrough in the field of dueling.

Professor Snape's early life is largely unknown, but he did submit several applications for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

After much deliberation, Lockhart only found one suitable candidate.

“Then I choose Severus!” he said confidently.

The three former deans were all laughing heartily.

If Lockhart had chosen them as assistants, they could have gone easy on him, but he chose the most difficult person to talk to. Even Dumbledore couldn't hold back and just turned his chair around, chuckling to himself.

"Severus, do you have any objections?" the principal asked, suppressing a laugh.

“If the esteemed Merlin Third Class holder has no problem, then of course I do too.” Snape’s smile was sinister.

He once said that a guinea pig like Lockhart would only be devoured by the snakes of Slytherin.

Chapter 103 First Meeting with Dobby

With Lockhart's 'help,' a dueling club, unlike Dean Flitwick's, was brought into the open.

Harry's opinion of Lockhart did not improve, because he was harmed by the professor again in the next Quidditch match—the bone that was broken by the Blink ball was completely destroyed because of Lockhart.

This became a laughing stock for Malfoy and his crew.

“It’s strange. Last semester it was Professor Quirrell, and this semester it’s Professor Quirrell,” Harry said, lying on the bed, clutching his empty arm.

Nietzsche sat on the edge of his bed, legs crossed. He had heard about Lockhart's 'good news' from Hermione and had come to see for himself.

He casually picked an apple from the gift basket, peeled it, cut it into pieces, and put it on a plate, as if he were the one who was injured. But Harry didn't care about any of that; he just kept complaining about Lockhart.

Hmm... the apple is crisp, but not very juicy or sweet.

So Nietzsche left the remaining apple pieces, cut into smaller pieces, for Harry.

"Thank you... The ball is out of control. What Madam Pomfrey could have fixed in a second, now we just have to wait for it to grow back on its own!" Harry angrily shook his limp arm.

It's like a rubber tube, lifelessly draped over the bed, with only muscle and blood beneath the skin.

Just then, Warrington walked in, his face full of admiration. When Harry saw the small bag of snacks Warrington was carrying, any lingering resentment he had towards Slytherin vanished instantly.

"You didn't see it... Potter hooked his flying broomstick with one leg and caught the Golden Snitch!" Warrington's face flushed red as he excitedly recounted the scene. "You're amazing!"

He instinctively patted Harry on the shoulder, causing the latter to let out a painful scream.

"Feel sorry."

"Come on, at least you guys aren't like Flint, who likes to deliberately bump into people... But what's with that wandering ball?" Harry moved closer to Nietzsche, distancing himself from the brute.

“There’s absolutely no way we could have done this!” Warrington swore, raising his hand. “Derrick only hit one shot, but he missed you… We all saw that ball veer off course.”

But the scream attracted Mrs. Pomfrey, who stormed in, grabbed Warrington by the ear, and dragged him out.

"Get out! He still has over thirty bones to grow back... Look what you've done!" She used her strong arms to grab the other person and push him out, also pushing the Gryffindor players out the door.

Nietzsche was also expelled, but at least he wasn't pushed out.

Before leaving, he talked to Harry for a long time about the recent basilisk attack and the Quidditch match, but the two things were completely unrelated because he could see no motive or connection.

"Could it be Malfoy?" Harry said. "If anyone wants to harm me, it must be someone connected to Voldemort..."

“But the ball used in the game is equipped with anti-spells, and ordinary students’ magic power cannot break through the restrictions.” Nietzsche shook his head and gestured for him to rest.

Now, many medieval armored figures are patrolling the corridor under Professor McGonagall's command.

These dead objects will not be petrified, nor are they intended to kill the basilisk, but rather to be sent to their deaths—Professor McGonagall will be alerted the moment they shatter and arrive at the scene with a team.

"Glory." Nietzsche, accompanied by his armor, entered the basement and uttered a slogan towards the entrance to the lounge.

He had no need to worry about Hermione. Even if Lockhart wasn't capable of protecting her, he could still deter any enemies from taking action, given his position as the 'Professor'.

Back in his dorm, he laid out various symbols and events on the floor and began to ponder as he looked at the seemingly unrelated things.

This was an indiscriminate attack. There are so many half-blood and Muggle wizards in the school; how could everyone be singled out?

“The Chamber of Secrets… If someone wants to use Salazar’s basilisk to get rid of the school’s wizards, what is their purpose?” Nietzsche lit his wand and lay on the ground, muttering to himself, “To satisfy their own competitive spirit?”

But if we're being honest, Malfoy is indeed a prime suspect, but he hasn't found anything suspicious about the other party.

Just like everyone else, I go to class and leave get out of class every day, occasionally throwing out a few threatening words at the non-purebred faction...