"Master, I have handed Harry Potter into your hands." Little Barty said in a tone that was mixed with humility and enthusiasm. He bent down as hard as a shrimp and looked at his face.
If Voldemort were standing there at this moment, he would kiss Voldemort's feet without hesitation.
"Very good. You will get an unexpected reward." The snake-faced baby hissed like a snake. "Take me over and let me see our guests."
Little Barty took over the baby version of Voldemort without hesitation. At this moment, a gust of wind blew off the little wizard's hood, revealing a vulgar face. As expected, Peter went there after escaping from Azkaban.
On the hunt for Voldemort.
The package containing Voldemort was raised in front of Harry by little Barty, and then another hissing sound came from the package.
"What a great prey this is. We have been preparing for more than half a year to get him. Fortunately, we timed our raid well and achieved our goal unexpectedly smoothly." Voldemort sighed with emotion.
Voldemort's voice suddenly turned cold: "Now, what are you waiting for here?"
After hearing this, Peter quickly stooped and left. After a while, a heavy stone crucible was pushed out from behind a small mound. The crucible seemed to be completely filled. When he moved it, he could hear liquid inside.
The sound of splashing. The potion in the pot is as clear as water after being boiled with a large amount of expensive medicinal materials. If this pot of potion is scrapped, it will take at least three months for even Voldemort himself to make another pot.
time, not counting the previous effort in collecting materials.
After placing the pot in place, Wormtail used his wand to scratch the bottom of the crucible. Suddenly, a crackling flame burst out under the crucible. The pot of rare and expensive potion was quickly boiled with the help of the flame.
Its surface was beating wildly, even sputtering sparks from time to time, as if it were burning. The surrounding steam was getting thicker and thicker, and the figure of Wormtail tending to the flames became blurred. The sharp, cold voice came out again.
Came from the fog.
"Now, quickly."
With a serious expression, little Barty untied the swaddling clothes in his hand as if it were a holy object. The monster with dark red skin, no hair, deformed limbs and a flat snake face with red eyes was revealed.
.
But little Barty didn't show a trace of disgust. He gently held the monster as if he were holding the most precious treasure in the world. Then he lifted the guy up and put it smoothly into the crucible that was boiling and emitting sparks.
The drama of Voldemort's resurrection is about to begin.
To be precise, this is not resurrection. Resurrection does not exist in the world of Harry Potter. Only the world of high demons can produce such a completely heaven-defying skill.
What Voldemort is doing now is not so much resurrecting, but rather recreating a body for his weak and broken soul. After all, Voldemort, who made the Horcrux, is not dead, and naturally cannot be resurrected.
The two lackeys of Voldemort present showed a surprised look, because even Dumbledore, the white wizard recognized as the greatest, had no way to resurrect, so he carried the regret of his sister's death with guilt for the rest of his life. In this case, Voldemort
The drama of resurrection from the dead naturally made these two Death Eaters extremely admired. For example, at this time, Peter was already so excited that he could hardly stand still.
But little Barty, who was in charge of the ceremony, was more reliable than the original Peter. At least his hands did not shake when he took the pot from a tree stump. He tapped the mouth of the pot with his wand and said, "Father's bones were inadvertently donated."
, can bring your son back to life!"
It seems that Voldemort dug up his father's grave, but it did not bring any psychological pressure to him. Compared with killing his father's family with his own hands, digging a grave was nothing.
As he chanted, a small wisp of dust flew out of the jar and fell gently into the crucible. The diamond-like liquid surface broke, hissed, sparks flew, and the liquid turned bright blue.
, one look at it gives people the feeling that this liquid is definitely highly poisonous.
After using it, little Barty carefully put the jar away. Of course, this was not because he respected Voldemort's Muggle father, but because the potion, which is his father's bones, is a limited material. In case Voldemort comes back next time
If you need to do this once, this thing will come in handy again. Anyway, the ashes used for one potion are not much, and the amount left in the jar is estimated to be enough for Voldemort to use it ten or eight times.
After checking that this step was done correctly, little Barty rolled up his sleeves without hesitation and stretched his hand over the crucible. Then he said in a firm tone, "Your servant's flesh, if you donate it voluntarily, can make your master reborn!"
, then the other hand pulled out the dagger from his leg and slashed it violently, and a large amount of blood gushes out from the cut. But little Barty's face showed no pain at all, but looked at it with the ecstasy of a martyr.
His arm fell into the pot.
The blue potion turned fiery red, and at the same time emitted a strong light. Peter Pettigrew's mind was completely conquered by this scene. He knelt down in front of the pot, muttering something unknown in his mouth.
Mumbling something.
At this time, little Barty first used a magic spell to seal the wound on his arm, and then he approached Harry with a dagger and a crystal bottle. Just when he walked in front of Harry and was about to take the knife, suddenly someone came from the woods next to him.
A clay pot flew out and hit Peter, who was kneeling beside the pot.
Soon a green flame enveloped him, causing him to let out a shrill scream and roll on the ground. At the same time, runes appeared on the cauldron where Voldemort was simmering, blocking the approaching flames.
, but the barrier formed by these runes quickly began to shake under the licks of green flames, and it seemed that it could not last for too long.
"No!" Barty Crouch Jr. roared. Just as he was about to turn back to rescue the crucible, he heard an angry voice coming from the pot, "Hurry up and complete the ritual now, hurry up!"
Suddenly, a sharp blade made of a shadow hit the rope tied to the tree stump, and the rope broke. Harry suddenly fell to the ground. The impact woke Harry up, and he didn't care about getting up and turning over because he fell to the ground.
After seeing everything in front of him, he subconsciously kicked the knee of little Barty who was walking towards him with a dagger.
Little Barty was unsteady after being kicked, but at his master's command, he swooped forward and hugged Harry. Then he bit Harry's face directly through his clothes.
Just as he was chewing on it, little Barty felt as if he had broken Harry's teeth. A salty-sweet taste flowed into his mouth.
"Ah!" Just when Barty was about to take advantage of the victory to obtain Harry's blood, another sharp blade made of shadows flew over. Maybe the attacker was worried about hitting Harry who was hugging him, but the blade was just tilted.
It flew past his leaking calf and removed it directly below his left knee.
Little Barty showed a look of sadness and madness, then yanked down the clothes that were covering Harry's face and bit him directly, leaving a deep wound on Harry's face.
"The blood of your enemies... is forced to be sacrificed... to resurrect your enemies..." Crouch, with his mouth full of blood, raised his head after reciting this spell and spat out a mouthful of blood-red saliva.
He came out and flew directly into the crucible with the blessing of magic.
At this time, another sharp blade made of shadows flew over, and Harry was horrified to see little Barty's head rolling down. A few seconds later, he heard a strange little girl's voice coming from behind him. "You, hurry up.
Follow me and run away."
As saliva carrying Harry's blood flowed into the cauldron, the originally bright and dim flames immediately lit up, and the cauldron was about to boil. Diamond-like sparks flew out in all directions, bright and dazzling, turning everything around them into
Dark velvety color.
Although this approach makes the ceremony imperfect, and can even be said to be a bit embarrassing, the blood of the last enemy is considered to have been put into the pot. Even if a few more sharp blades made of black shadows were shot out from the forest, they were all covered by the white blood coming out of the pot.
The fog blocked it.
Finally, a black figure of a man slowly rose from the crucible, tall and thin, like a skeleton.