Chapter 217

"If you ask me, Voldemort can survive, why can't I?" Nietzsche naturally drooped his eyelids, stretched his neck, and said hoarsely, "Oh, please come closer, my eyes are a little hard to use... "

Peter Pettigrew felt that his neck seemed to be pressed by something, and he quickly lowered his head and took a few steps.

"You didn't do anything back then, so what are you doing here this time?" Nietzsche gradually increased his tone and threatened, "My skills may have deteriorated a bit, and you may suffer a little more before I leave."

He was careful in many of his wordings, trying his best to create the illusion that "many years have passed."

"Please...I will say anything..." Peter Pettigrew didn't think at all when faced with this death threat. Snot and tears rushed out at once, whimpering like a goblin whose toes were stepped on. .

But Nietzsche thought: This kind of person is not loyal to anyone. Even if he follows Voldemort now, he will only have nowhere to go.

Just when he was considering how to deal with Pettigrew, the silver alchemy prosthesis on the opponent's right wrist suddenly broke free from the shackles of gravity magic for no reason, causing the bones of his right arm to be twisted and dislocated.

But Silverhand did not attack Nietzsche, but instead grabbed Peter Pettigrew's throat under his tear-blurred eyes.

It was this that dispelled Nietzsche's murderous intention: it was just Pettigrew being punished. Because his desire for survival was driving his betrayal, he was choked by the prosthetic limb given by Voldemort.

His face gradually turned from deep red to purple, his heartbeat was beating crazily before his life was about to end, and bloodshot eyes began to appear.

Finally, Nietzsche raised his wand and terminated the movement of the Silver Hand from the roots of alchemy, leaving Peter Pettigrew limply kneeling on the ground breathing in the smell of rotting food next to the trash can.

"Voldemort seems to trust you," he said.

"Trust...ahem! Trust?" Peter Pettigrew touched Silver's right hand with his left hand, "I can't feel my hand..."

This kind of 'trust' does not mean that Voldemort trusts Peter Pettigrew. On the contrary, what Nietzsche said is that Voldemort trusts his own strength.

Letting a Death Eater whom he had never trusted come out not only because there was no one available, but also because he believed that he could completely control Peter Pettigrew, so this could be used completely.

"The purpose of your coming here." Nietzsche raised his wrist indifferently, revealing his watch. "I'll give you a minute. If you can't tell me, you'll move your head."

As soon as he heard that he was still going to die, Peter Pettigrew fell to the ground and cried again.

"Crying? Crying counts as time."

"The Dark Lord asked me to control Slughorn!" Because Peter Pettigrew didn't know that alchemy was temporarily disabled, he stepped on his right hand with both feet. "I also found out about being a professor!"

He frantically embellished himself, hoping to let Nietzsche see something of his own use.

Sixty seconds passed quickly, but the news was not unexpected. After all, Nietzsche was squatting here to temporarily protect Slughorn, so he hesitated when he looked at the bloated face with a pointed nose.

"Let's continue with what happened to Professor Xi." His tone was nonchalant, making the other party unable to figure out what he meant.

"The Dark Lord wants you to die, so he wants to control Slughorn and sneak into the school. Then he will take the opportunity to let us and the dark army outside the Forbidden Forest in." Peter Pettigrew swallowed, fearing that he would be angry. Nietzsche.

"You thought I was dead, and then you thought you could turn defeat into victory?"

Nietzsche laughed in anger and subconsciously raised his voice.

But it was good news. At least he now knew that there were a large number of dark creatures such as inferi, giants, and werewolves hidden outside the Forbidden Forest, that is, in another forest that did not belong to Hogwarts.

Peter Pettigrew hurriedly defended: "No one knows that you are still alive, and I don't know either..."

"He, Voldemort, thinks he can defeat Dumbledore? And he's still seriously injured?" Nietzsche took a step back to avoid getting the disgusting snot on his body.

Hearing him calling Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew shivered timidly, and stepped on the silver hand with his feet to push back and forth uncomfortably.

Impossible. Everyone in the wizarding world knows that the Dark Lord did not dare to face Dumbledore back then. Therefore, even if the secret told by Peter Pettigrew can be verified later, there must be an information gap:

Voldemort may not be just out to capture Hogwarts.

Of course, Hogwarts is a landmark in the British wizarding world and can be used to destroy people's confidence, but now there are still those 'wizardized' Muggle stormtroopers controlled by Gilderoy Lockhart.

"very good..."

"Can you exchange your life?" Peter Pettigrew pitifully held his silver hand.

"In that case, you can go back and tell him that the mission has been completed, and Slughorn will do something for Voldemort." Nietzsche knelt down and stabbed the crushed silver hand with his wand.

"Go back?" Peter begged, "The Dark Lord will kill me..."

There is no doubt that it is a real alchemy product, and because it carries Voldemort's will, once Pettigrew disobeys Voldemort's orders, he will immediately take punishment that corresponds to Voldemort's will.

This punishment shows Voldemort's distrust of Peter: disobeying orders is tantamount to betrayal.

As a person who protects countless people, Nietzsche is very familiar with this process. He easily mobilized the rune above, which showed ‘?’ (eihwaz), which means ‘purple shirt’ and represents ‘death’.

After the rune was relit, Peter Pettigrew quickly fell back on the garbage dump.

“It hurts so much… Hurts? My hand is healed again!” Peter did not dislike the dirt around him at all, but raised his hand to the night sky, looking at the silver hand that did not change at all.

“If you dare to betray, the end will be the same as just now.” Nietzsche said calmly. “You must think carefully, this silver hand grows on you, I can’t stop it all the time...”

When he first pinched out the magic on the silver hand, the will in his magic had been deceived. After all, Voldemort was devoted to studying black magic and immortality, unlike Nietzsche who studied so deeply:

The magic above made Peter Pettigrew only responsible for execution and not allowed to resist.

With Voldemort's use of Rune, it's not enough to prevent betrayal, otherwise there wouldn't be so many Death Eaters. I'm afraid Nietzsche wouldn't even need to do anything to kill some of them.

"But I can't deceive that man!" Pettigrew said, "Just let me stay with you, I promise... I'm willing to prove it with my life."

"I said, he trusts you very much and won't doubt your behavior." Nietzsche kicked him hard and pointed his wand into the distance. "Now, it's your turn to go back and report to Voldemort."

Peter Pettigrew would not be exposed, because as long as he was still alive, it meant that he had fully carried out his mission.

This trust came from Voldemort's arrogance, and this almost conceited character would become even more arrogant after he learned that 'Nietzsche is dead'.

"Now, it's your turn to go back and report to Voldemort." Nietzsche kicked him hard and pointed his wand into the distance.

Peter Pettigrew's heart sank completely, as cold as the weather that was about to enter autumn. He originally thought that his death sentence would be changed to life imprisonment at most, but now it was just a suspended death sentence that could be changed back at any time.

When I was still a mouse in school, I could hear the "third generation of the Dark Lord". Now it seems that it is true!

Chapter 355 Hermione thought it looked familiar

When school started in September, Nietzsche followed Professor Slughorn to get on the train together. Along the way, they saw the reality of order being restored and better than before.

The wizards who had been constantly leaving because of the war are now continuing to carry out repair work on the streets, and the Muggles are using their rich experience to carry out additional renovations...

"Are those wizards? But I don't remember there being so many wizards in Britain." Slughorn looked at the people coming and going curiously, his mouth open in surprise.

When Slughorn turned his head to look at him, Nietzsche immediately frowned and put on a disgusted expression.

"Muggle's poor imitation." He said with a suppressed smile.

The two walked through the crowded King's Cross Station and came to Platform 9?. Some Muggles were even curiously touching the wall, while others were interested in watching some blushing little wizards disappearing one after another.

Slughorn walked aside in confusion and asked the investigation team who were smoking and talking with several train station policemen.

"I say, what's going on?" There was a little complaint in his words, "Those Muggles saw it..."

"This is normal." The Ministry of Magic investigator was a little impatient at first, but after turning around and looking at him for a few times, he stood in awe, as if he recognized someone, "Professor Slughorn, this is Minister Fudge's new decree."

"Isn't this nonsense?"

As soon as these words came out, Nietzsche saw the two Muggle policemen next to him frowned, and their faces were obviously unhappy.

"Hush! Don't say that!" The patrolman of the scouting team pulled the professor over and whispered, "You don't discriminate against Muggles, and you support pure bloodism, right?"

Slughorn looked at him in surprise.

"How could I be prejudiced? I knew several talented students of Muggle origin. Sometimes this happens... A few months ago, Dirk Cresswell even gave me a gift."

"You mean, the director of the goblin liaison office?" The patrolman's eyes became envious.

"That's right!" Slughorn raised his head slightly and shouted to Nietzsche proudly, "Vida, do you remember the Baileys you drank before? That student bought it from Muggles."

Professor Slughorn is very selfish, and selfishness means "stability", just like his students: no matter what their origin is, as long as they are talented and can bring benefits, they are all good students.

He is like a spider, using a spider web to collect those fat students.

"But didn't the mysterious man... kill the Muggle Prime Minister? I saw it in the newspaper." He turned his back and muttered.

The Muggles opposite relaxed and put their right hands down from their waists.

They didn't seem to show much hatred, nor did they walk away. Instead, they shrugged their shoulders and seemed to be saying:

It's not normal to die in a war. We were almost hit by mortars before... It doesn't matter. No matter which politician dies, we still have to live our lives. It's better to treat it as a normal change of power.

"Wait, you said Fudge issued a new decree to cooperate with Muggles?" Nietzsche stepped forward and asked coldly.

"Actually, I heard from the Auror Department next door that it was more of a delay in the new department... But this is also normal. Maybe the people in the new department want to consolidate their position." The patrolman explained.

That's fine. It turned out that Hermione was behind the scenes. Nietzsche was relieved.

"Oh! I have to catch the train!" Slughorn hurriedly grabbed his hand and dragged him to Platform 9 without looking back, as if he was afraid of something going wrong.

It was only six o'clock in the morning, and there were still many empty seats, but Slughorn didn't sit in them.

He came to the last carriage and found that there were no large and small compartments here, but there were several long tables and chairs by the window. Maybe this was the prefect's carriage.

"Remember, don't talk too much... Since you are responsible for monitoring, you can only monitor and are not allowed to do anything else." Slughorn took out his wand and closed all the doors and windows.

"I listen to you." Nietzsche scratched his beard.

"Vida, you are my assistant in school." His eyes suddenly had a lot of courage, and he sneered, "Whatever you want to know about Dumbledore, I will tell you, anyway, you can't succeed."

"It doesn't matter, the Dark Lord will steal the fruits of their efforts in the future."

Nietzsche ignored Slughorn's wanton ridicule. For him, it was Voldemort who was scolded anyway.

The prefect's compartment was very spacious, and the service seemed to be more extensive. Not long after sitting down, Nietzsche saw the lady who used to push a cart to sell snacks opened the door and asked them what they needed.

"I'll have some fried quail later." Slughorn touched his bloated belly and said to himself.

"I will control her with the Imperius Curse..." Nietzsche leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"No, two servings!" Slughorn's face changed drastically, and he shouted after the lady pushing the cart left before he said angrily, "Do all you Death Eaters act like this? You have no rules, what's the difference between you and animals?"

He was very opposed to Nietzsche's barbaric behavior, and used this as an attack point, calling the Death Eaters a group of freshmen.

"Do you really think I won't do it?" Nietzsche pretended to threaten, "Keeping you is just a little useful to the Dark Lord, at least I can teach you a lesson now."

"You dare!" Slughorn sneered disdainfully, "I know that student very well... You dare not disobey him, because you can't afford the consequences of disobeying him, have a good meal, you may not have a chance to eat in the future."

The number of students gradually increased, and when everyone's laughter and footsteps passed through the door of the carriage, Slughorn nervously grabbed his robe.

At 7:03, the door of the prefect's carriage was opened by the first student...

A pair of striking brown eyes and a pair of half-drooped blue eyes began to look at each other first.

Nietzsche: It's broken.

Hermione: It's a bit strange. Look again. Something is wrong. Look again.

Chapter 356: The Double Act of Vader and Padme

(Fresh out!)

Her tall figure and hands are covered by the wide wizard robes. Her neat brown short curly hair just falls to her shoulders. Her demeanor is more majestic than before. At first glance, people can think that she must be a superior.

This is Nietzsche's intuitive feeling when he saw Hermione: under the influence of hard work and Sherlock Holmes-like thinking, the changes are very significant.

When she entered the prefect's carriage, her sharp chocolate eyes quickly locked onto Slughorn and Nietzsche. I don't know what her hands hidden under the wizard robes were doing.

Slughorn quickly broke off the contact after their eyes met for only three seconds.

"I am Horace Slughorn, this year's Potions Professor..." His self-introduction made Hermione look away.

"Granger." Hermione said simply.

"I seem to have heard of this name somewhere... Aha! You must be the student mentioned in the Daily Prophet as the 'most outstanding wizard', right? This is the first time I have seen a young wizard being selected."

Those who can be named the 'most outstanding wizard' are all well-known figures in history, from the centenarian Dumbledore, the deceased Nick Flamel, to Laverne de Montmorency who invented the love potion.

And it is certain that Hermione Granger's portrait will be included in the chocolate doll card in a short time.

However, in the face of the professor's praise, Hermione just smiled politely, very indifferently, she sat on the soft chair opposite the two and said: "The original name should be Nietzsche John Holmes."

When Nietzsche thought of the illusion he was afraid of, he would feel a strong sense of nausea in his heart.

In fact, he hated everyone worshipping him as the 'savior', just like Quirinus Quirrell's warning about rune magic: if his rune magic can perfectly protect everyone, then what will he become?

Living saint? God?

Nietzsche perfunctorily glanced at the window, looking at the students who were saying goodbye to their Muggle parents, showing his disinterest in the topic.

"Yeah, that kid... I was thinking about meeting him." Slughorn sighed.

The professor clapped his hands, and the box on the luggage rack above his head opened automatically. A pile of pineapple candied fruit, cheese biscuits, and pumpkin pies flew onto the table and were neatly arranged on several white porcelain plates.