69novels Page 395
Page 395
They seemed to know very well that the boy before them was, besides Dumbledore, the greatest threat to their master.
Chapter 435 "Bone, Flesh, and Blood"
Harry may never understand how things turned out this way.
He had just finished the fourth event of the Triwizard Tournament in the Quidditch maze, winning third place, and was about to pick up his medal to receive cheers and praise from his classmates.
However, the next second, he inexplicably appeared here.
He actually thought today was his lucky day.
What a load of bull! It turns out all the bad luck was waiting for us there.
Harry knew very well that his situation was not good.
A woman who was both strange and familiar to him came into view. He had seen her in his dreams and in Dumbledore's memories. She was Bellatrix Lestrange, the ruthless Death Eater who had tormented Neville's parents.
At first, he heard a group of people in black robes arguing, but he didn't know what they were arguing about.
After a fierce struggle, Bellatrix emerged victorious and was granted the right to stand before a large cauldron.
This crucible is so large that it can fit an adult sitting inside.
The liquid in the crucible kept boiling, bubbling strangely, while Bellatrix kept adding all sorts of herbs that Harry didn't recognize, her face beaming with what Harry saw as an incredibly wicked smile.
Harry stared blankly at the bizarre scene, pondering the cause of everything.
When he was in dire straits, his intelligence suddenly returned to its former glory, despite his initial recklessness.
His thoughts raced like lightning; when he saw Bellatrix Lestrange, he thought of the Death Eaters.
When he thought of the Death Eaters, he thought of the chaos of World Cup night.
When he thought of the World Cup, he thought of...
It's a door key!
That medal was actually a door key!
He still clearly remembers how he got to the World Cup stadium; that old boot that could be passed around with a touch was a key to the door.
I must have arrived here using the same method.
All these mysteries slowly pieced together in his mind, forming a complete conspiracy.
But even if you understand all of this, it won't change the current situation.
Harry had just figured out why he was there when he was stunned by Bellatrix's actions. She was putting an incredibly ugly baby into the cauldron—what was she trying to do?
"what!"
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:Update!:/!!Small:.^:;Welcome to join the group. Suddenly, the burning pain became unbearable, almost causing him to faint.
Faintly, I could hear Bellatrix's excited, almost fanatical, chanting:
"Your son can be reborn from your father's bones, even if he is donated unintentionally!"
"The flesh of your servant, given voluntarily, can bring your master back to life!"
At this point, she became even more agitated, and without hesitation, she used her wand to cut off her left hand and threw it into the cauldron.
Then I felt my arm being stabbed by a sharp blade, and my blood was being taken away by a spell.
"The blood of your enemy, forced to be offered, can make your enemy at their peak!"
After Bellatrix finished speaking, a black figure slowly rose from the crucible.
Harry felt a chill run down his spine as the man stepped out of the cauldron and put on the robe Bellatrix offered him.
That was the face that had appeared in his nightmares for the past three years—Voldemort had come back to life.
"By Merlin, if this is a terrible nightmare, please wake me up!" Harry roared and screamed in his heart.
This is not a nightmare, but a terrible reality.
Why didn't I heed Sirius's advice? Why did I step into the vortex of the Triwizard Tournament? Why didn't I stay at the maze entrance until the end of the finals?
In retrospect, the entire three-way battle was nothing more than a cleverly designed trap set against him.
Harry was filled with regret, but time could not be turned back, and everything was beyond redemption.
Voldemort returned to the world through his blood, and darkness once again enveloped the earth.
However, in this moment of despair, Harry suddenly remembered the badge that Levine had given him before the match.
At the time, he thought the badge wouldn't be useful, but little did he know he would actually need it.
Harry quietly clutched the badge in his hand, and then he suddenly felt a familiar voice resounding in his mind.
It's Levin's voice:
“Harry Potter, this is Levin Green. By the time you hear this message, you may have already been captured by the Death Eaters, or the Dark Lord may have been resurrected through your blood. Don’t panic. We have already suspected what you are going through and have made preparations in advance. This badge can help us locate your position. Try to buy time. Dumbledore and I will come to take you away at any time.”
Upon hearing Levin's message, Harry almost burst into tears.
I've finally found my people!
He gripped the badge tightly in his hand, as if it were his last lifeline.
But immediately, his intelligence, now focused on regaining the high ground, told him he couldn't do that. He should act as if nothing was wrong and not let the enemy notice the badge's existence.
Be brave, Harry.
He silently encouraged himself in his heart.
"Don't be scared by Voldemort. It's just a resurrection. He's still part of Dumbledore and Levin's plan."
"I'll be safe if I just stall for a little while."
Everything will be alright as long as Dumbledore launches an attack.
Voldemort didn't care about Harry's thoughts or feelings.
The first thing he did after taking the food out of the pot was to check his own body.
His hands were like pale, large spiders, his slender, pale fingers gliding lightly across his chest, arms, and face; his red eyes gleamed eerily in the darkness, his pupils like slits, like a cat's eyes.
He raised his hands, wiggled his fingers, and his face was beaming with ecstasy.
"Put a robe on me."
"Voldemort gave the order loudly."
Ignoring her disheveled state and bleeding arm, Bellatrix quickly found a green robe and rushed to his side.
Donning his robes, Voldemort finally noticed Bellatrix's terrible condition.
“My most faithful servant, you have suffered.”
He offered a hypocritical consolation, his tone devoid of any emotion, yet it moved Bella to tears.
Voldemort raised his wand again, waving it in the air. A streak of light, like molten silver, drew from the tip of the wand. At first, it had no shape, but then the streak twisted and transformed into a shimmering human hand, as bright as moonlight. It flew down and pressed itself against Bella's bleeding wrist.
Bella looked up, staring in disbelief at the silver hand. It fit seamlessly onto his arm, as if he were wearing a dazzling glove.
She tried to bend her gleaming fingers, then tremblingly picked up a twig from the ground and crushed it into powder.
“My master,” she whispered, “master, it’s so beautiful… thank you… thank you…”
Bella prostrated herself on the ground in gratitude and kissed Voldemort's feet.
Voldemort roughly pulled her up, then slowly pressed his wand against Bellatrix's Dark Mark, muttering softly, "…I, Voldemort, have returned!"
Bellatrix's dark magic mark on her arm turned pitch black, radiating an aura of incomparably dark magic.
An expression of extreme pain appeared on her face, but she clenched her teeth and did not make a sound.
"Bella, how many people do you think will come after they've experienced it?"
Voldemort admired his pale, slender fingers and asked casually.
At this moment, Voldemort had transformed into the ugly, noseless appearance described in the original story. However, he was not ashamed at all; on the contrary, he was quite pleased that his resemblance to snakes had increased significantly.
"Master, all those who betray you will suffer my mad revenge."
Bellatrix lowered her head even further, hoping Voldemort would see her resolve and loyalty.
Suddenly, a rustling sound of cloaks rubbing together filled the air, as if countless bats were moving gently in the night.
Among the graves and deep in the jungle, the phantoms of wizards appeared one by one, cloaked and wearing masks with strange patterns on their faces, like a group of ghosts emerging from the darkness.
Harry immediately recalled the infamous Death Eaters who had committed atrocities during the World Cup.
However, at this moment, these Death Eaters had lost their former arrogance—or rather, after being besieged by the Aurors, they could no longer be arrogant (damn it)—they approached Voldemort slowly and cautiously, like devout believers worshipping their god.
"Master...Master..."
A Death Eater whispered a call and knelt down five meters from Voldemort. He crawled to Voldemort's side, kissed his robes, and then silently retreated to the side.
His humble appearance reminded Harry of the house-elves in the kitchen.
The other Death Eaters followed suit, forming a tight circle around Voldemort like stars surrounding the moon.
As Voldemort greeted his old friends, Harry heard Voldemort call out the names of some Death Eaters.
Although he didn't hear Lucius Malfoy's name, he did hear Crabbe and Goyle.
Since both of Malfoy's henchmen were Death Eaters, Malfoy was probably a Death Eater too.
There was also one named Gahoris Greengrass,
Harry remembered that one of the girls who often bothered Levin had the last name Greengrass.
Besides them, there were many other unfamiliar wizards.
All the Death Eaters stared at Harry with strange looks, their eyes filled with a mixture of unease and curiosity.
They gazed at the despairing face of the legendary savior, the famous Harry Potter, as if watching a tragedy unfold.