The Occult Warlock of Hogwarts
Chapter 263 Someone is anxious
There seemed to be an indefinable stench in the cemetery, and the surrounding tombstones seemed to exude the breath of death. Everything here was in line with the man in black robes in front of Harry - the other person showed his face unscrupulously, and he did not recognize it. Barty Crouch Jr., but Harry's eyes could penetrate the clothes at this moment and saw that the thing held in Barty Crouch Jr.'s arms was Voldemort.
At this moment, the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead seemed to come to life, and really turned into a thunder embedded in his skull. He stared at the wrapped Voldemort, breathing heavily, and his vision became blurry due to pain. He must You have to concentrate on it to let hatred urge you to wake up. The hatred of losing your parents before you have even met them may not exist in the first place, because Harry doesn't know what it feels like to have parents, and naturally he doesn't know what it would be like to have no parents. Different, but this hatred had a source in the process of growing up - it came from the miserable life in my aunt's house, and also from the days when I was targeted by the poisonous snakes of Slytherin. The inner painful emotion was exactly the same as the pain on my forehead. The mutual echo made Harry deliberately forget his fear. He repeatedly warned himself - he can be afraid of anyone, but he must not be afraid of Voldemort, not even death.
"Look at him," Voldemort said with a sharp smile, but Harry always felt that Voldemort should be enduring pain: "Brave, fearless, baby Harry... Humph! Hang him up!"
Barty Crouch Jr. couldn't wait any longer. He smiled strangely and raised his wand with one hand.
Seeing the wand, Harry remembered that he also had this thing. He quickly reached out to grab it, but a step too late, the red light hit him, knocked him away, made him spin several times in the air, and fell heavily to the ground. , the wand also fell out of hand and flew into a bush of grass. The pain covered Harry more comprehensively, causing him to convulse on the ground, twisting his body, squirming and struggling, groaning as he was tied up by the rope conjured by Barty Crouch Jr. , and then hang it up.
He had to concentrate on thinking of a way. Harry repeatedly warned himself that if he was stronger, it would be best not to even scream and show his endurance to the enemy... But the sudden effect of the snake's voice distracted him, and he listened When Voldemort said in the language of snakes: "Come here, bring the crucible."
A ridiculously large snake snaked in the shadows, slowly emerging with a waist-high cauldron. It placed the cauldron in front of Barty Crouch Jr., next to the tombstone of a grave.
Barty Crouch Jr. pointed his wand at the bottom of the pot and lit the flame. After a while, the liquid in the crucible began to bubble. Both the master and the servant were impatient, and Voldemort said urgently: "Quickly !"
Barty Crouch Jr. untied the swaddling clothes wrapped around Voldemort. He deliberately blocked Harry's view and allowed the liquid in the cauldron to slowly submerge Voldemort. Then he let go and let Voldemort sink to the bottom, enduring the boiling potion burning his body.
"The unintentional donation of your father's bones can regenerate your son!" Barty Crouch Jr. recited the incantation, hissing as each syllable seemed to burn his mouth.
A crack opened in the grave next to the crucible, and old Tom Riddle's ashes flew into the pot - morals and ethics were to hell with Voldemort, as long as he lived and had power.
Then, Barty Crouch Jr. pulled out a shining silver dagger. He held it with his left hand, stretched his right hand over the crucible, then raised the knife and dropped it, and the severed hand fell into the pot with a plop, and he yelled feverishly
, his head was sweating profusely, his face was red, and the hissing sound from his mouth became louder: "Your servant's meat! Donate it voluntarily! It can make! Your master! Reborn!
”
The bubbling liquid in the crucible turned red. There is only one last step left.
Barty Crouch Jr. gasped for breath. He lowered his right hand carelessly, walked in front of Harry with sinister and heavy steps with red eyes, smiled evilly and excitedly, and deliberately created an atmosphere of fear as he approached.
The knife made a cut on Harry's face, then he put away the dagger, took out a glass bottle to catch Harry's blood, then limped back to the crucible and poured Harry's blood into it.
p>
The liquid in the crucible turned white, then boiled, ejecting silver sparks. The beautiful diamond chips gradually disappeared, and then the white smoke spread, and an evil creature stood up from the smoke. The facts at this moment are undoubtedly
Proved a point - Voldemort is resurrected.
Barty Crouch Jr. immediately fell to his knees, not caring that the wound on his right arm hit the ground. He pressed his forehead to the ground, his lips trembling with excitement, and repeated one word: "Master! Master..."
p>
"Get up," Voldemort felt like he was reborn at this moment. He got a new body, got rid of the curse of the old body, and rested on the shoulders of Barty Crouch Jr.: "My faithful servant, now, I give you
I dress with honor."
Little Barty Crouch's tremors gradually spread throughout his body. He put a loose black robe on Voldemort's pale and thin body that had a strange magical power. However, when he was about to kneel down again, Voldemort's body suddenly
It spasmed abnormally, shaking like chaff, waving its arms and legs stiffly, and crackling into strange shapes. At the same time, it made a clucking sound from the throat like an old hen's throat being cut, and the sound was rhythmically like
The old hen laid eggs, one by one, one by one, and finally they were released in a burst, turning into heart-rending screams and cult-like dancing.
"Master! Master! What's wrong with you! What's wrong with you!" Barty Crouch Jr. shouted repeatedly and rushed forward in panic, but Voldemort's skin had begun to fester, and yellow-purple pus suddenly exploded and splashed out.
It covered his face, almost blinding him.
"Curse..." Voldemort groaned vaguely: "This curse..."
Harry on the side didn't know what was going on, but seeing Voldemort in pain, he almost laughed out loud with joy.
"Nagini!" Voldemort summoned the big snake swimming in the grass nearby in a snake accent. He struggled to resist the pain of the curse. His arms twitched and he slowly felt for the snake's scales, sharing the pain with the big snake Nagini.
.In this way, after vomiting out a few pieces of rotten flesh, Voldemort's body stopped deteriorating. He quickly used healing magic on himself, grew complete skin and flesh, and looked coldly at the body that had been struggling in pain for a while.
Nagini, who was completely weak at the end, calmed down and protected Nagini. Although Voldemort was still trembling, this trembling was no longer due to the alleviated corruption curse, but because of rage.
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Voldemort looked into Harry's eyes. Green eyes and red eyes looked at each other across the distance. One was coldly teasing without hiding cruelty, the other was angry without showing timidity and wanted to hide fear. Voldemort just spread his arms like this, as if he was proud of his own body.
Said: "Stretch out your hand."
Barty Crouch Jr. maintained his worshiping posture, wiped the dirt off his face on the ground, and raised only his two arms.
Voldemort got his wand first. He pointed it at Barty Crouch Jr.'s severed hand and shook it as if some viscous liquid was poured out of the wand. A liquid similar to mercury poured out of the wand.
The tip flowed out, covering the wound on Barty Crouch Jr.'s wrist, and gradually took shape, turning into a silver hand - Barty Crouch Jr. gasped excitedly, and he
He gave up his surname on the spot and shouted: "Master, Master! I beg you, please allow me to use the silver hand you gave me as my surname."
"The surname cannot be discarded," Voldemort said softly in a snake-like voice: "That is the glory of pure blood. You can discard the name given to you by your parents. From now on, you will be called... Silverhand Crouch."
"Separate from the name Barty Crouch. From now on, Barty Crouch is no longer my father! I no longer have to bear the name that makes me feel ashamed!"
"Very good," Voldemort used his wand to open the sleeve of Silverhand Crouch's other hand and pointed at a blood-red tattoo on his arm - the tattoo was an image of a snake emerging from a skull, which was touched by the wand.
After getting it right, the "snake" came to life and burrowed through the holes in the skull, causing Silverhand Crouch great pain. It was as if a snake had really penetrated into his flesh and blood. However,
He seemed to be enjoying the pain. When Voldemort removed his wand, the tattoo turned black. Something must have changed, but the signs hadn't appeared yet.
"Now that I have returned," Voldemort did not issue an order for Silverhand Crouch to get up. He seemed to be discussing the issue with his friend in a friendly manner: "The summons has also been sent out...the pain will remind them, lest they fail to receive me.
A kind reminder given...just...after feeling it, how many people have the guts to come back?" He murmured, staring at the stars in the sky with his glowing red eyes, "and how many people would be foolish not to come?
”
"Do you know where this is?" Voldemort suddenly asked Harry.
Harry didn't speak. He was afraid that his voice would convey the smell of fear, and he was extremely resistant to communicating with Voldemort.
"You are stepping on my father's grave," Voldemort said. "He was a damned, blasphemous Muggle fool - just like your mother."
This sentence of humiliation... Harry suddenly felt as if his forehead was about to explode with blood. He didn't even think about it. In the sudden ringing in his ears, he couldn't even hear what he said clearly: "Without your father, I wouldn't have you.
You ungrateful bastard!"
Obviously this sentence was said clearly and beautifully. Voldemort's red eyes shot out with furious blood, and he yelled in hatred: "So what? If killing all the mudbloods can make the Riddle family disappear from history, I can make the Riddle family disappear from history."
I killed the mudbloods of the wizarding world a thousand times! And I did it! I killed your mother, just like I killed Tom Riddle and his whole family!"
"Fuck you! You idiot! Since you dislike your Muggle father, why don't you call me daddy? I am a pureblood after all! Then let my mother be your grandmother! Maybe if you do this, you will
You won't be killed by me who is less than two years old!" Harry never thought that he could be so scolding now. At this moment, he was extremely grateful to people who usually spoke in weird ways, otherwise he would not be able to use it to this moment. He even spit at Voldemort,
But the pain in my body was too much, and I was not using my strength properly. Voldemort didn’t even have to move, and he wouldn’t be vomited.
Voldemort was so angry that he was shaking all over. He wished he could have a duel with Harry right now - he soon calmed down and said with a cruel smile: "You can only use your words."
"Ha," Harry sneered: "Then it seems that you can't even speak to me. Don't think that just because you are pretending now, you can pretend that nothing happened just now - I can clearly see your cursed ugliness.
..."
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut your mouth! That despicable curse is to take advantage of others' danger! My power is even better! Now that I have been resurrected, no matter how vicious the curse is, it will be liquidated! I..." Voldemort jumped uncontrollably.
He got up and shouted: "I... won't talk too much to you, a dead man. You don't need to know so much... but I want to remind you! Your life is already in my hands! Everything you say is shallow and weak,"
He could only forcefully ignore the disadvantage of language, change the topic forcefully, and said: "Look at you... I'm afraid you don't even know what happened?"
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