I'm the paper king at Hogwarts

317 Voldemort Returns

In Harry's sight, since Peter Pettigrew walked over pushing the cauldron, the ball of clothes on the ground began to writhe violently, as if he couldn't wait to wash it in the cauldron.

Harry began to wonder irresponsibly, if the clothes contained Voldemort, would this count as boiling Voldemort?Ugh... sounds like the name of a dish.

He started to stop his divergent thinking, he couldn't think about it anymore, and the more he thought about it, the more disgusting he felt.

Peter Pettigrew bent his fat body and awkwardly stuffed firewood under the big cauldron. Then he waved his hand, and a crackling flame ignited under the cauldron. At the same time, the big snake snaked out.

Snakes should be afraid of fire, right?Harry was a little uncertain, but he didn't have much time to think. The liquid in the cauldron was heating up very quickly. He felt that the snake had just swam away, and the cauldron began to boil and sparks shot out, like It's like burning.The steam became thicker and thicker, and Peter Pettigrew, who was looking after the flames, became more and more blurred in Harry's eyes.

At the same time, purple and white mist began to spread around the cemetery. Harry always felt that this mist looked familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before, but he was not sure.

The mist gradually drifted over, and Hariford went to his heart, and frantically used the Occlusion Charm.But Peter Pettigrew, who was facing away from the mist, didn't seem to notice it. The mist gradually spread to his body, and Peter Pettigrew's movements became more restless and impatient.

This mist seems to be able to erode people's minds, and Harry saw it at a glance - this is what he learned about in Pandaria a while ago -

Thinking of Pandaria, Harry suddenly remembered, this energy seems to be Sha energy?

According to the pandaren and mantid, it is the power of the ancient god that can erode people's minds and turn life into puppets that submit to their will.

But Harry didn't have time to think too much, the situation over there became less optimistic, and it seemed that some kind of evil ritual between Pettigrew and Voldemort's hatchling was about to begin.

The tangle of clothes shook even more rapidly, and Harry heard a sharp, grim sound.

"quick!"

Now the entire surface of the water was leaping with sparks, as if studded with flaming diamonds, and under the steaming purple-white mist, it seemed even more treacherous.

"It's ready, master..." Pettigrew replied timidly.

"Now...!" said the cold voice in an unquestionable tone.

Peter Pettigrew ripped the bag off the floor to reveal its contents, and Harry let out a cry of surprise, but was choked up by the stuff in his mouth and could only whine in vain.

It was as if Peter Pettigrew had flipped over a rock to reveal a slimy, ugly, eyeless thing... no, it was a hundred times more terrifying than that.

What Peter Pettigrew was carrying looked like a curled up baby, but Harry had never seen anything less baby-like.It has no hair, and it seems to have scales on its body. It is dry, numb, and not round at all.Moreover, the color of the skin was still dark, red, like wounded tender flesh—some skin locations had purple and white scars, and the white scars even emitted bright white light.

Its arms and legs were thin and limp, and as for its face--no living child had such a face--it was a flat, snake-like face with vertical, shining red pupils.

The thing seemed completely incapable of taking care of itself. It raised its thin arms and wrapped them around Peter Pettigrew's neck, as if begging for a hug.If the gesture was made by a cute little animal, it might be cute-but this suspected Voldemort creature, Harry just finds it disgusting.

Pettigrew was holding it in his hands, and then Pettigrew's hood fell off, and Harry saw the disgusted expression on his pale, frail face in the firelight.

He hugged the thing to the edge of the cauldron, and for a split second Harry saw the evil flat face illuminated by splashes of dancing water on the potion's surface.Peter Pettigrew put the thing in the cauldron, and with a strange hiss, it sank down the water's surface, Harry even heard its limp body hit the bottom of the cauldron lightly.

Let it drown, Harry begged Merlin in his heart, his scar was burning so painfully that it was almost unbearable, please... let it drown... I am willing to study hard every day, in exchange for this thing to drown in cauldron...

Peter Pettigrew was talking, his voice trembling, as if he was a little out of his mind with fright, his eyes were wandering, looking around like a mouse, he didn't know what he was afraid of.

But soon, a thick cloud of purple mist drifted over and entered his body. Peter Pettigrew seemed to have received some kind of encouragement. He raised his wand, closed his eyes and said to the night sky: "Father's bones , unintentionally donated, can make your son regenerate!"

The grave opened beneath Harry's feet, and Harry was horrified to see a tiny wisp of dust rise into the air at Pettigrew's beck and drop gently into the cauldron.The diamond-like surface of the liquid cracked, hissed, sparked, and the liquid turned a vivid blue, unmistakably poisonous—and a very poisonous kind.

Peter Pettigrew whimpered as he drew a long, thin, silvery dagger from under his cloak.

Peter Pettigrew's voice turned into a sob of utter terror again: "Servant's...meat - a voluntary donation from...will bring your master back to life!"

He stretched out his right hand—the hand with one finger missing, and then tightly grasped the dagger with his left hand. After several struggles, he bit his long mouse teeth, closed his eyes and swung vigorously towards his right hand.

Harry realized at the last second what Pettigrew was going to do, and he squeezed his eyes shut, but couldn't stop him.

The scream that pierced the night sky pierced Harry's brain, and Harry's head started to hurt again, and he had an illusion—as if he, too, had been stabbed by a dagger.He heard something fall to the ground with a thud, and Peter Pettigrew wheezing and wheezing in agony, followed by a disgusting plop as something was thrown into the cauldron.

Harry didn't want to look...but the potion turned fiery red and bright light shone into Harry's closed eyelids.

Pettigrew was panting and moaning in pain.When the painful breath hit his face, Harry realized that Peter Pettigrew had come to him.

"Blood of... the blood of the enemy... forced to sacrifice... can bring your enemy... back to life!"

Harry couldn't stop him, he was bound too tightly, he struggled desperately to break free from the ropes that bound him, and through the slits of his eyes he saw the dangling silver dagger quivering in Peter Pettigrew's single hand.He felt the point of the dagger dig into his arm, and the blood of the fourth-degree enemy (bushi) trickled down the sleeve of the torn school uniform robe.

Peter Pettigrew, who was still panting in pain, took out a small glass bottle from his pocket and placed it next to Harry's wound. A small amount of blood flowed into the bottle.

He staggered to the cauldron with Harry's blood and poured it in.The liquid in the crucible immediately turned milky white, just like crucian carp tofu soup stewed to perfection.Wormtail finished his task, knelt down beside the cauldron, leaned over, and collapsed on the ground, holding his bloody severed arm, panting and sobbing.

The crucible was about to boil, and diamond-like sparks splashed in all directions, so bright and dazzling that everything in Zhou Kingdom turned into a black velvet color.

"Whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" Harry whined, gagged by his socks, he couldn't say anything at all - translate, what he wanted to say was actually how to not boil you to death?Son of the Beach.

In his heart, he kept begging for Merlin's help, quickly heat up, and boil that strange Voldemort to death...

Then, through the white mist in front of his eyes, he saw an embryo-like embryo slowly rising from the cauldron with horror, just like the embryo he had learned in the elementary school textbooks in the Muggle world, it was somewhat transparent, and he could still see it. Bloodshot inside.Soon, the embryo grew up slowly, as if it was accelerating its development, and gradually turned into a figure in a black robe, tall and thin, like a skeleton.

"Dress me," said the cold, shrill voice behind the steam.Pettigrew sobbed and groaned, still protecting his stumped arm, hurriedly grabbed the black robe wrapped in bundles from the ground, stood up enduring the pain, shook the black robe, and used a Hands put it on his master's head.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry with cold eyes... Harry saw the face that had often appeared in his nightmares for three years. It was paler than a skeleton, with two big red eyes and a nose like a snake's. Flat, the nostrils are two slit-like sockets, and Harry, who has lived in the Muggle world for a long time, even has a strong desire in his heart - to find an electrical plug for him to plug in...

Predictably, Voldemort was resurrected.

After going through so many years, spending so much time, and fattening up so many Death Eaters, isn't it just today?Voldemort squinted his scarlet snake eyes and looked Harry up and down. He was in no hurry to deal with Harry, but now, there were more things to do.

Voldemort looked at Harry for a while, but didn't pay much attention to him, but began to check his body. His hands were pale and thin, with an unhealthy color. He touched here and there, like a small It's like a child encountering a novel toy.

It is understandable how rare the long-lost body is. After all, this Voldemort has lived in the state of a wandering soul for an unknown number of years, and the period is not limited to bending over to the Horcrux and sticking to other people's skulls... Speaking of which, the Dark Lord is quite aggrieved of.

At the same time, a bunch of indescribable monsters kept gathering around. Harry didn't know what these things were. Monster light.

Seeing them crowding up, Pettigrew shivered uncontrollably, as if he had suffered from these things.

"What are you afraid of, Wormtail?" Voldemort's voice was cold and sharp, just from the sound, it was enough to make people shudder.

Harry swore that if he hadn't been tied to the tombstone, he might have run away out of fear in the first place.

It was so tormenting, the sound was like the most vicious poisonous snake, tormenting people's nerves.

It hurts, it hurts too much.

Peter Pettigrew flinched on the ground, tremblingly said: "No... nothing, Master, I'm just... I'm just... I'm not afraid... Master, my hand hurts too much..."

"Oh...that's it..." Voldemort showed a clear expression, he looked at Peter Pettigrew for a while, snorted, and let out a cold and sharp sneer, as if despising his cowardice.

"Master..." Peter Pettigrew begged sobbingly, "You promised, you promised..."

Voldemort groaned, showing a lazy expression, stretched out his skinny claws, and took out his wand from Petit Peter's arms: "Extend your arm."

Hearing Voldemort's words, Peter Pettigrew was instantly ecstatic. He knew that his master would not let him give his arm in vain, and that his master was about to make up for him!
Oh, how can it be called compensation?It should be said that it was a reward, he secretly spurned in his heart the idea that he just didn't know the depth of.

"Oh, thank you, master, thank you... master..." Peter Pettigrew looked grateful, and Harry felt like he was going to throw up again-this time not because of Peter Pettigret's sour socks, but Because of his flattering and flattering attitude, he almost vomited the overnight meal to the edge of his socks.

Harry felt heartfelt sorrow, he was mourning for his own father, and the other two of the Marauders, thinking that my father, James, is as good as a flattering villain like you?
If his father was still alive, he would definitely cast aside Peter Pettigrew's behavior now, right?Harry thought sadly, and looked down on Pettigrew more and more, thinking that he and his Animagus were really suitable, crawling darkly in the gutter as well.

He held out the bloody severed arm, squinting his mouse eyes, and looked at Voldemort obsequiously, but Voldemort sneered, "Not this one, Wormtail, you know which one I'm talking about."

Hearing Voldemort's refusal, Peter Pettigrew's heart fell to the bottom in an instant, and he cried tearfully, "Master, please, please..."

Voldemort bent down, pulled up Wormtail's left arm, picked up his sleeve with his wand, and rolled it up to the elbow.It can be seen that there is something on the skin, which seems to be a bright red tattoo pattern, and a snake is spit out from the mouth of a skeleton, which is the figure that appeared in the Quidditch World Cup - it represents Voldemort and The Dark Mark of its reactionary faction.

Voldemort studied it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable sobs.

"It's back," said Voldemort softly, "and they'll all notice it... Now, our time is coming..."

(End of this chapter)