Chapter 194

Nietzsche looked at the cushions by the fireplace. If necessary, he could also spend the night on the floor.

"We have to get up early to catch the train tomorrow, so we should go to bed early." Hermione put her hand on her forehead, covering the chandelier above her head, "Uh... I think it's good to have a little wine before going to bed. Anyway, my parents won't know..."

She laughed, because there were too many things her parents didn't know, and now there was one more thing.

Hermione took off her wizard robes and leather boots and got into the quilt. Then she squirmed, and her loose sports pants were kicked out by her little feet wearing white socks.

"Hey! Turn off the lights for the last person to lie on!" She turned her head, pulled the quilt up, and said viciously.

"Know... Hey?" Nietzsche reacted instantly, "Yes, prefect!"

Turn off the lights, take off clothes, and pounce, all in one go, completely forgetting the choices he could make before. Under the faint light emitted by the embers in the fireplace, he felt like there were ants crawling in his heart, an itch that could not be scratched.

I have never felt this way before. After a long time, Nietzsche still didn't fall asleep, so he turned his head to peek at Hermione, but he was almost scared.

Hermione didn't fall asleep either, she was still lying on her side, her chocolate eyes still staring at him.

This bed is not too small, it can accommodate a story; but it is not too big, Hermione turned sideways, bent her legs, and could use her knees to touch his stomach, which is too narrow...

"You..." She blinked, her voice became very small because of shyness, "If you can't sleep, help me wash clothes first?"

"Do you want to listen to what you are saying." Nietzsche turned his head and continued to stare at the ceiling in a daze, and silently arched his body outward, "As long as you don't have the habit of kicking your legs when you sleep."

Is there any inevitable connection between being unable to sleep and washing clothes?

"My parents are both doctors, I don't think it has anything to do with it..." Hermione kicked him in frustration, and hesitantly explained, "Actually...actually I knew, so I was ready there."

"What?" Nietzsche couldn't reason out this weird logic.

"It's just the body's instinctive reaction, right?"

He was broken, really, the brain block technique could no longer hold for a second, and was directly disintegrated.

"I... Hermione! En! Who do you think I am!" Nietzsche covered the quilt and shouted, "Even if I can't help it, I won't do this, even if you allow it, unless it's you!"

Ah, it's over, he seems to have said what's in his heart...

Nietzsche looked at Hermione on the pillow guiltily, swallowed his throat, and recalled the brain block technique in his heart, while Hermione was stunned, as if she was scared silly, and then pulled the quilt over and covered her face.

Calmness and rationality returned to his mind again, forget it, go to sleep, it's enough to spend the night with Hermione.

Nietzsche didn't think about that, but just as he yawned, he felt a heavy weight on his body... Crookshanks? No, Crookshanks was still at Granger's house, but he didn't dare to think carefully about the 'cat' sitting on him.

"Remember, you owe me this." Hermione said, and then bit it.

Two water snakes crawled out of the abyss and entangled with each other until the oxygen was exhausted and the two sides separated.

The silk-like texture passed through his skin, but he, the sturgeon, was willing to be caught by the cunning fisherman. An uncontrollable pleasure broke through the shackles of the brain block technique, filled his body with blood, and made him tremble.

This bed, which just fits two people, turns out to be for people to overlap.

The next morning, Nietzsche, who was awakened by the alarm clock, opened his eyes. He had never been so refreshed, as if the days before were all in vain, but he was a little out of breath... Oh, it was Hermione pressing on his chest, that's fine.

The two were surprisingly quiet, both packing their own things.

Before leaving, Nietzsche carried his bag and glanced at the abandoned underwear on the ground....

"You don't want it?"

"If you want it, I'll give it to you! Bastard!"

(Boss, you know me. I usually like to be passive)

Chapter 307 A Different New Semester

Nietzsche slept soundly that night, but he gave up before leaving and didn't wash what he should wash...

The fourth grade seemed to be a watershed. Since then, the whole world has changed. At King's Cross Station, many additional guards can be seen, some of whom are reconnaissance teams from the Ministry of Magic, and some are Muggles in white armor.

"Although the Prime Minister has weapons that can deal with wizards, it is also a good thing." Hermione saw those terrifying gun barrels full of magic and whispered quietly.

With these new weapons, the Death Eaters dared not act rashly for the time being and weighed their own weight first.

They boarded the train and sat down in the compartment closest to the prefect's car. The train started slowly, and the whistle was blown, urging the remaining students on the platform to say goodbye to their families and hurriedly walked up.

During this time, Nietzsche saw Marvolo standing at the train entrance with a small suitcase in his hand, at a loss.

"Come here!" Nietzsche lay by the window and shook his hands, pointing the direction. After hearing this shout, the other party started to walk over.

Then, the scenery outside the window began to whiz back, and the compartment door was also pushed open by Marvolo. He put his things down and exhaled, and the whole person seemed to be more relaxed.

"I never thought I would have to go to school again..."

"Yeah, don't let another ghost appear in the school this time." Nietzsche said gloatingly, "But why do you want to go to Gryffindor? With your personality, it's understandable that you would go to Ravenclaw."

"It's just a different way of living." Marvolo took out a few flattened breads from his arms, and said while eating without disdain.

At this time, there was a burst of noise in the corridor. After several previous experiences, Nietzsche subconsciously thought that someone was making trouble again, but when he opened the door, he found a group of people lining up to "welcome" Malfoy.

A series of insulting gestures such as depressing sighs, reverse double fingers, etc. were all gestured towards the middle of the corridor.

"It seems to be looking for you." Marvolo looked at the movement of the other party coming over and silently shrank back.

Draco Malfoy has become a dog without a home. Wherever he goes, he is ridiculed and glared. After all, if it weren't for Dumbledore's insistence, he would probably be kicked out of school by other students as the son of a Death Eater.

His golden hair was no longer as smooth as before, it was very dull, and his hairline seemed to have moved up a lot, but he still rushed to Nietzsche with his fists clenched.

"Where are Goyle and Crabbe?" Malfoy lowered his head and asked with gritted teeth.

"Dead." Nietzsche said calmly.

"Dead... what? Dead? You're talking nonsense! They just used Astoria to pretend... you... you let the Ministry of Magic catch them, right? They all said that the Death Eaters were wanted by the Ministry of Magic."

However, Nietzsche was not moved at all, and his expression was as cold as Snape's.

He looked into the other's eyes and said word by word: "They, died."

This was a very cruel thing for Malfoy---the two friends and younger brothers who had grown up together suddenly received the news of their death just after a summer vacation.

But Nietzsche did not have any sympathy, nor did he feel some guilt like when facing Dumbledore or Muggles. Dead is dead. As a Death Eater, the final value is to become the good news for the people from the Ministry of Magic.

When did he die? Last month? Or last week? Nietzsche couldn't remember clearly.

Malfoy's eyes were filled with fear. He looked back and forth blankly, holding his head in the teasing eyes of others, and finally leaned against the window of the corridor and slowly slid to the ground.

"So, are you a Death Eater?" Nietzsche pulled out his wand and poked the other's right arm.

"I'm not!" Malfoy pushed the wand in front of him away with force, and stepped back repeatedly, but bursts of hoarse laughter broke out in his throat again, "You want to set a trap and kill me too, right? But I'm still a student at Hogwarts!"

Tears fell from the corners of Malfoy's eyes, but he didn't know it at all, and pointed at Nietzsche and laughed at them.

This crazy look made Pansy Parkinson cover her mouth, looking at the once glorious pure-blood aristocrat on the ground in horror, she whispered: "Don't say it... Draco, don't say it anymore..."

"It's a pity that there is no Dark Mark, you can't touch me." Draco rolled up his sleeves, revealing his thin and white arms.

Others thought he was crazy and returned to their compartments with sarcastic remarks, but Nietzsche looked at him vigilantly. You know, the crazier the person, the more desperate he will be when he fights back.

Malfoy was sure that he would not do it under Dumbledore's nose. This feeling was not very pleasant. Nietzsche thought of Moriarty for a moment.

The former's confidence came from Dumbledore, while the latter came from the Prime Minister. The two towering mountains blocked Nietzsche's way.

The helplessness, anger, and hesitation of being controlled by others surged into Nietzsche's heart. He looked down at Malfoy, took a deep breath, and tried his best to suppress these negative emotions with brain occlusion.

Don't be silly. Now is different from the past. Whether it is Moriarty or Dumbledore, the power in his hands is more powerful...

"Draco, I admit that I can't move you." Nietzsche squatted down, used magic to pull the other party to himself, and said in a voice that only the two of them could hear, "But I swear, I will make you... worse than death."

The right hand holding the wand stretched out to the side, threw Malfoy out, knocked the door open, and smashed into the prefect's lounge.

He didn't even look at Pansy, walked into the compartment without looking back, and locked the door again.

Now, it was completely quiet, with only a few snack carts shouting occasionally. Under the sky that was gradually painted dark, the train began to pass through the woods and slowly slowed down around the Hogwarts Castle in the distance.

After entering the station, Nietzsche and his group got off the train and walked to another path next to Hagrid, who was leading the freshmen.

He put a blanket on his shoulders and looked for an empty carriage on the street, but this time he found that the carriage was no longer empty, but a group of magical animals... let's call them "horses".

"You can see those thestrals." Marvolo lit the lantern on the carriage with ease and pulled the reins.

"I didn't see them last year. It seems that the carriages in the school have always been pulled." Nietzsche said.

"Only those who have seen and gradually understood death can see it... You guys, probably killed too many dark wizards... But I saw it a long time ago."

Marvolo was talking about his past, he didn't hide it at all, as if he was talking about something that didn't belong to him, this tone made Hermione frown.

"We all know that you are a person who has returned from the dead." She climbed into the carriage nimbly.

The carriage began to move forward, and Nietzsche could not help but observe those creatures that looked like skeleton horses, and found that they were still hanging with a pair of folded bat wings.

"No, no, no, that's secondary... I mean Myrtle, the little girl from Ravenclaw." Marvolo said, "I am a Horcrux, and the birth of a Horcrux must have a life as a sacrifice."

The Horcrux that escapes death is born from death.

Chapter 308 I'm awesome! Pink Toad!

This is a reminder for Nietzsche, and it is also the key to the clues of the Horcrux. So from the motive, the Horcrux may be born at the murder scene related to Voldemort.

From the nodes of the whole line of thought, excluding the location of the Horcrux, the remaining key nodes are the death caused by Voldemort and the selected object, and the latter is related to Voldemort's own life experience.

For example, the Horcrux Harry Potter is the death of the Potters; the diary is the death of Myrtle... But Voldemort is an extremely narcissistic person, and he will never be indiscriminate when choosing a target.

Think about it, how could a wizard like Voldemort who would rather sever his Muggle self pick up a piece of trash as a Horcrux?

Nietzsche's thoughts drifted far away, and he didn't know when he walked to the entrance hall. He didn't come to his senses until he was pushed by Hermione a few times. She pointed to a conspicuous figure in the guest seat.

"Umbridge, isn't she the Deputy Minister of Magic?"

Because Dumbledore was wearing a purple robe with a silver star pattern, and the background was a ceiling vault showing the starry sky, it was hard not to notice Umbridge on the left, who was wearing pink all over.

Her skin was loose, and her hair couldn't grow long. She was obviously an old woman, but she still had to act like a disgusting girl.

When Umbridge took a sip of red wine and spoke to the headmaster's ear, Grindelwald on the side almost vomited.

"At the end of last semester, Fudge and Dumbledore talked about the school's protection plan... but I thought he would send someone serious." Nietzsche frowned and said, "Even if it was a house elf raised by the Ministry of Magic."

But, he sent the most disgusting jealous woman who can't do anything big.

"Maybe Mr. Scrimgeour is still busy catching Death Eaters." Hermione smacked her lips, as if she had bitten a big bite of bitter melon.

"Okay, okay, don't block the way, you two~" Marvolo squeezed them aside and swaggered towards the Gryffindor table, "Please be considerate of an orphan who has never had a full meal, okay? I'm so poor now that I don't even have a wand."

So Nietzsche and Hermione parted ways temporarily and sat at their respective college tables to listen to the sorting hat singing a completely off-topic song.

After that, it was the procedure for freshmen, wearing hats, sorting, and then waiting for the long line to shorten little by little until the last freshman came down from the stage, and then the welcome dinner began.

But many people were looking at the stage eagerly. For others, few people knew Umbridge.

"Pay attention, I hope you can listen to my usual chatter while you devour the sumptuous food... Sorry, old people always talk too much." Dumbledore stood up and said.

His opening remarks made the students laugh, and no one showed disgust. Those who were willing to listen listened, and those who were unwilling to listen focused on the steak in front of them.

Dumbledore did not waste the students' meal time. He said:

"First of all, I need to emphasize again that Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you for the 426th time not to cast spells in the corridor. Secondly, it is about your Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

"This is your Professor Umbridge. Everyone knows the news of Voldemort's resurrection. Therefore, in order to be able to rush to support the school in time in emergencies, the Ministry of Magic has sent people to stay in the school this year as..."

But the headmaster was halfway through his words, and suddenly his tongue was tied. He turned his head and looked at Umbridge who stood up, and simply sat down and passed the rest of the words to her.

Perhaps it was an illusion, Nietzsche found that Professor Grendel only showed a murderous look for a moment.

Well, just after coming to school, he offended several powerful wizards in the school. Someone is going to jail~

"Ahem, the purpose of my stationing in the school is to contact the Ministry of Magic at any time, and at the same time be responsible for educating your courses. I believe that you can learn a lot and I am willing to be friends with you." Umbridge said in a shrill voice.

No one took her seriously, especially the Slytherins, who had already started to mock her in private.

"Look at her pink sweater, it's so old-fashioned..." Theodore grinned.

"Tsk, this idiot, she's the only one who thinks this is a treasure." Daphne picked up a piece of chicken arrogantly and couldn't help but reveal some information.

"What do you mean?" Nietzsche asked.

"This old woman doesn't know anything. She always pointed fingers when I was arranging new departments. If you ask me, she was thrown here because she annoyed Fudge... After all, Fudge doesn't lack people to flatter him now."

After Daphne explained this, no one cared even more.

Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts? Sorry, they only recognized Professor Grendel, the only one who didn't die from the curse and could do something fancy every year. This is the real gold content.

"But she is a professor after all, and she still has some real power..." said the young new snake.

"That's true, but the school is ultimately managed by Headmaster Dumbledore. If there is a conflict between the two professors, who will the headmaster help?"