Chapter 2: Bully Nietzsche?

"Damn.. why hasn't she left school yet?"

This was Nietzsche's first thought upon seeing Hermione.

"Hmm... she looks like a middle-class girl, quite at odds with Nietzsche."

This was Sherlock's first thought as he sized up Hermione.

In fact, as a longtime consulting detective for the England police and a friend of Inspector Lestrade, Sherlock had already seen the truth from the bruises and abrasions on Nietzsche's knuckles.

He was used to it and too lazy to expose it in front of Watson.

A child living in the Holmes household is bound to have a few quirks, isn't that normal?

"Is this your classmate? A friend?" Sherlock habitually gave a scrutinizing look. "Let me guess, is this the 'only friend you have at school' that John Watson mentioned?"

Hermione felt a bit uncomfortable under his stare.

This is Nietzsche's father?

Yes! Absolutely! The way he sizes up people on first meeting them is just like Nietzsche, as if they were carved from the same mold.

"No!"

"Friend? No!"

Eleven-year-old Nietzsche and twelve-year-old Hermione almost simultaneously denied it.

"I am his father. May I ask who he fought with at school today?" Sherlock's face suddenly broke into a smile, placing his hand on the boy's head. "Sorry, he was transferred last time because of something like this."

Nietzsche looked as if he had seen a ghost.

Looking up, he saw the Oscar-worthy smile on his adoptive father's face.

Karma strikes! Sherlock never lets anything slide!!

Hermione widened her eyes even more, looking at Nietzsche in disbelief: "Didn't you say you were acting heroically, and the police transferred you to prevent retaliation?"

"That's true..."

"Liar!"

"It was Inspector Lestrade who arranged my transfer. It's not far from the truth," Nietzsche suddenly returned to an unusually calm state. "I just beat up a fat bully."

Sherlock, with his hands in his pockets, interjected, "Not one, 'several.'"

The boy stomped on his foot and walked straight inside.

But Hermione didn't leave. Instead, she hugged her books and chased after him. Nietzsche had nothing to say, merely listening in silence as she continuously prattled on about "school rules" and "moral standards."

When they reached the floor of the headmaster's office, he finally stopped.

"Why did you follow me here?"

Hermione, who had been incessantly muttering, suddenly closed her mouth, her cheeks flushing red.

The typical freckles of a British girl became faintly visible against the redness. Nietzsche looked at this face, devoid of any makeup, and felt a moment of wistfulness.

She stammered, unable to utter a complete sentence for quite a while.

"Go in, Miss... and you, madman... hopefully, you won't be expelled before graduating from elementary school this time."

"Think carefully about it!"

Sherlock, with a pipe in his mouth, glanced at the shadows at the end of the hallway of the headmaster's office. He raised an eyebrow, not even bothering to dust off the ash on his face, and pushed the door open.

The private school office was adorned with medals and trophies on the walls.

The headmaster was a middle-aged man with a receding hairline. Behind him were photos with some prominent figures, and in the corner were commemorative photos with donors.

Nietzsche and Sherlock both immediately thought: This is a man who worships authority and values his reputation highly.

"Nietzsche John Holmes... and this must be his father. Please have a seat, all of you." The headmaster's face twitched when he saw Sherlock's dirty clothes next to his own suit.

He didn't realize that every move he made was being carefully observed by the seemingly indifferent Sherlock.

"Your son has excellent grades, but his personality is a bit... unique? Just a few days ago, he injured three people—one with a broken nose, and the other two with fractured ribs and dislocated knee joints."

"This morning, I received complaints from the parents of these three students. Based on the school's policies, I should expel your son."

Upon hearing this, Hermione's breathing became heavier.

Nietzsche noticed that the cover edge of the book she was holding was already bent from her grip.

"Headmaster! You said..." Hermione mustered the courage to speak, her voice as quiet as a whisper.

"You said 'should expel.'"

Nietzsche was speaking to the headmaster, but in reality, he was reminding Hermione.

Could it be because the elementary school graduation was near and expulsion now would have repercussions? Maybe he didn't want to offend Inspector Lestrade... Nietzsche was considering every possible reason in his mind.

Sherlock hadn't said a word the entire time.

He just pouted, biting on his unlit pipe, his eyes vacant, repeatedly calculating the details of the murder case in his mind.

The headmaster glanced at the two distracted individuals and couldn't help but sigh internally:

A troublesome father and son.

"You said you saw them bullying others, so you stepped in to stop it, and it was all self-defense... Nietzsche, the unfortunate thing is that the victims did not claim they were being bullied."

The headmaster adjusted his glasses and looked through the documents on his desk.

Just a few days ago, this problematic student with good grades had tricked three students into a corner with no surveillance and beaten them up.

The three unconscious students were discovered by staff after school and sent to the hospital. They didn't even know why, but Nietzsche had given them psychological trauma.

"Yes, you should have been transferred to another school, but... this girl is willing to stand up and testify for you."

A thunderclap went off in Nietzsche's mind.

Of all the calculations he had made, he never expected that Hermione, who was always at odds with him, would stand up as his witness.

In fact, Nietzsche had his own set of principles at school, but sometimes Hermione, who was also a book lover, would always stop him... saying he couldn't do this or that.

Nietzsche had given Hermione a nickname: "Miss Rule Follower."

And Hermione, not to be outdone, privately called him "Mr. Always Right."

"Hermione?" Nietzsche said in disbelief, "Her?"

"Miss Granger said that she was also mocked and bullied by those three, so after some deliberation, Mr. Holmes, your son will not be expelled... but! He must undergo a psychological evaluation!"

Things went beyond Nietzsche's expectations. As soon as they left the office, he saw Hermione running towards the end of the corridor.

He saw a couple emerge from around the corner, embracing Hermione. Mr. Granger nodded respectfully in Nietzsche's direction and doffed his hat.

Sherlock clapped his hands.

"To celebrate you not being expelled, how about going out for dinner tonight... Isn't it surprising that your 'arch-nemesis' at school actually helped you?"

"Not that surprising. After all, there's Aunt Irene's precedent with you."

The two walked out toward the school gates together. Suddenly, Nietzsche couldn't help but burst into laughter beside him.

Annoyed, he said, "Aunt Irene likes you, and between her and me, it's a different story. You could consider this a miracle of life! Living isn't just about rational thinking!"

"I didn't say anything... Royal Restaurant tonight?"

"No problem. Just don't tell Watson!"

"If he hasn't figured it out already."

...

Hermione and her parents got in the car. She looked at the scenery flying past and felt happy.

"That kid, is he the friend with whom you got out from under those three bastards last semester?"

"I don't agree with his behavior. Hitting people is never good!" Hermione pouted and retorted righteously, "And I didn't get his help nor I'm helping him, it's just... just..."

Mr. and Mrs. Granger exchanged a glance and immediately broke into silent smiles.

It had been a long time since their daughter had been this confident.

Although she often bickered with that kid and kept mocking Nietzsche when she came home, at least she wasn't spending all her time buried in books alone.

Hermione wasn't much better off than Nietzsche. To escape reality, she preferred to immerse herself in the world of books.

Mr. Granger picked up where she left off, saying softly, "You just think what he did wasn't worth it?"

Hermione nodded and continued, "Even though his methods were wrong, he still helped someone. But the person he helped repaid kindness with hatred. If I didn't help him, how would I be any different from those people?!"

"Nietzsche is always like that too, acting as if he's drunk, never considering whether his actions are allowed by school rules."

Hmph, whatever.

She finally had something on him.

The thought of Nietzsche trying to use some philosophical arguments against her in the future, and her countering with "I'm your savior," made her feel triumphant!

Although it was a bit shameless, it was very effective.

Just as she was swinging her legs, lost in the imagination of lording it over Nietzsche, Mrs. Granger pulled out an exquisite envelope from her bag, also labeled 'Hogwarts.'

Its contents were identical to Nietzsche's, except for the recipient's name.

"Hogwarts... School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?!"

Some secrets emerged from deep within her heart, and Hermione suddenly became a little uneasy.

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