Chapter 177 Voldemort Resurrects

"He's calling me!"

Snape opened his sleeves, and the black snake wrapped around the bones wormed its way into the skull's eye sockets as if it were alive.

"What do you mean?" Ron didn't understand yet, but Hermione covered her mouth and widened her eyes.

"That's the Dark Mark, something only Death Eaters have!"

She looked at Snape in disbelief. Although no one liked him, not even Harry had thought that Snape was actually a Death Eater. The person he was loyal to was always a mysterious person!

"To correct you, only Death Eaters trusted by the Dark Lord are eligible!" Sirius said sarcastically. This is the truth. Voldemort will not leave the mark of the dark devil on everyone. For example, some werewolves and some wizards who are not worthy of being on the stage are not even servants in his eyes, they are just consumed materials.

But no one bothers with that now.

Snape didn't care about his ridicule. He just looked at Cyrus and waited for Cyrus' decision. Should he return to the Dark Lord's side, or should he continue to stay? Is it a showdown, or is it still hiding?

Cyrus quickly made arrangements for Snape, saying nothing but looking into Snape's eyes.

"You come with us and attack me. Of course, I don't think he will let you do it." This sentence rang directly in Snape's mind without anyone hearing it.

What Snape needs now is to show his loyalty to Voldemort. While Dumbledore is not dead, Voldemort needs a spy to stay by Dumbledore's side.

There are not many people who can do this well, and Snape has not yet been exposed.

At least Cyrus had no intention of breaking Dumbledore's arrangement for the time being.

"The question is how do we find them!" Sirius stamped his feet hard. At this time, a tall figure hurriedly and panicked opened the door of the astronomy tower.

It's Hagrid!

"The Thestrals found Harry's blood in the Forbidden Forest!" He hurried in, almost rolling in, and shouted before he could stand still.

At the same time, several black shadows passed through the sky. They looked like horse bones, but had dragon heads and huge bat wings, like the mounts of the God of Death!

"What?" Hermione looked out doubtfully, but she saw nothing. On the contrary, Ginny and Ron were startled by the Thestral's terrifying appearance.

This kind of special Pegasus can only be seen by those who have seen death.

No one answered for Hermione. Sirius took the lead and rode on the Thestral's back, like a prince on an expedition: "Thestral will lead us to Harry by following the smell of blood!"

So, under the astonished eyes of Hermione and the three of them, they rode on the non-existent Thestral. The horse opened its huge wing membranes that day, and the gusting wind caused the planetary model in the astronomy tower to rotate.

"Wait, we're going too!"

Ginny tightened her wand and took a step forward. She kept looking at Cyrus without giving in at all!

"I can fight against Death Eaters! You taught me how to fight, didn't you?"

After a long time, Cyrus noticed that Ginny had indeed grown taller, her facial features had slowly opened up, and her skin was as white as snow. But in his opinion, he is still just a second-year student.

"We can do it too!" Neither Hermione nor Ron wanted to back away.

"You have to stay in school!" McGonagall said sternly.

Even Sirius did not support their adventure: "We are facing Mysterious Man and Death Eaters. They kill without batting an eye. Boy, this is no joke!"

But neither Hermione nor Ginny nor even Ron paid attention to what they said, but looked straight at Cyrus until Cyrus shook his head.

"no."

Once Voldemort is resurrected, even he is not sure that he can defeat it now. It is impossible for him to take risks with several children.

"It's very late. Now go back to your dormitory. You will see Harry tomorrow morning."

He was almost commanding.

The three children were all a little unconvinced, especially Ginny. She had killed Peter Pettigrew before. Maybe Cyrus underestimated her a little too much?

However, when she looked at Cyrus's eyes, she no longer had any thoughts of resistance in her heart, as if the words Cyrus said were an order that could not be refused, and a truth that could not be changed!

So she had no choice but to walk towards the door of the Astronomy Tower with her head lowered and her mouth pouted. Before leaving, she looked back with a look of grievance on her face: "Only Harry?"

"And I."

"Bang!" The door closed.

——

"Snapped!"

The air was torn apart, and little Barty emerged from the small black hole with the injured Harry, throwing Harry onto the dirt ground.

Harry was tied up all over and couldn't move, so he could only try his best to look up.

He saw a huge crucible standing, and the pale and thin wizard who had appeared in the dream had a face full of fear. He was holding a small package in his arms and scratching at the bottom of the crucible with his wand.

A big snake with three heads swam into the darkness.

"You're back, little Barty."

The package in Karkaroff's arms moved and made a harsh sound, like sharp claws scratching the glass, which made Harry feel very uncomfortable.

Then, he saw the thing in the package sticking its head out and completely exposed in front of him - it was a slimy, eyeless, ugly thing - it looked like a baby, but without hair, with tiny snake-like scales all over its body, and dark and red skin, like injured red meat - he had a snake's face.

Harry knew immediately that this was Voldemort.

Harry had seen many Voldemorts, but none of them looked more pitiful than this one, as if he could be strangled to death at any time.

But he knew that Voldemort was more dangerous than before, and weakness was just his appearance. Perhaps in the next moment, the other party would be completely resurrected, and then spread terror in the British wizarding world like a venomous snake spraying venom!

"It went well, my master!" Little Barty said happily.

"You never let me down." Voldemort said excitedly and coldly, his eyes were like two cracks, and when he tore them apart, his pupils were exposed. Being stared at by him, Harry felt a sharp pain in his forehead and his blood coagulated!

"It seems that my appearance has frightened the 'Boy Who Lived'." Voldemort paused and said, his tone was very contemptuous, as if Harry Potter was just a joke to him, "Well, Harry, let's talk about the past later."

The liquid in the crucible seemed to heat up very quickly, and the surface not only began to boil, but also burst into sparks, as if it was covered with diamonds.

"It's done, Master." Karkaroff's choked throat sounded hoarse and weak as if he had just cried.

His face was full of fear, and even his hands were shaking. Voldemort was not as polite to him as he was to Barty.

"Now, put me in!"

Karkaroff carried Voldemort to the crucible, and the sparks jumping on the surface of the potion illuminated the evil flat face. Karkaroff put him into the crucible, and the potion instantly submerged Voldemort.

For a moment, Harry almost prayed that Voldemort would be drowned by the potion. But this was too absurd, how could Voldemort seek his own death? How could he let his servants harm him?

Karkaroff raised his wand, closed his eyes, and said to the night sky: "Father's bones, accidentally donated, can make your son reborn!"

Harry was shocked to see a small wisp of dust from his side, rising into the air in response to Karkaroff's call, and gently falling into the crucible.

He then realized that next to him there was a corpse that had been rotting for many years. Perhaps it was the power of magic, it was not completely decayed, but the appearance could not be seen clearly, and it exuded a foul odor like a corpse.

Father's bones?

Is this Voldemort's father?

He treated his father's body like this?

Before Harry could think more, the diamond-like liquid surface in the crucible broke, hissing, sparks flew, and the liquid turned bright blue. Little Barty grabbed his collar with a grin and took him to the edge of the crucible!

Barty Jr. urged Karkaroff:

"Hurry up, Karkaroff! There's still the pendant!"

Karkaroff quickly lifted his sleeves, revealing a palm wrapped in the pendant.

He looked at Barty Jr. timidly, and pulled out a long, thin, silver-shining dagger from his cloak. His voice suddenly became fierce and resolute: "Servant's flesh - voluntarily donated, can make - your master - reborn."

His words were intermittent, because the pain made him almost speechless.

The silver dagger cut off his palm like cutting off a weed.

Harry's eyes widened, but he was no longer interested in Karkaroff's miserable condition. Because Barty Jr. took the dagger and pressed Harry's head to the edge of the crucible. The boiling pot burned Harry's skin red, emitting fishy smoke, and the boiling potion almost splashed into his eyes!

"The blood of your enemies, forced to give, can resurrect your enemies!"

Harry couldn't stop it, he was tied too tightly... He struggled desperately, but felt the tip of the dagger piercing his shoulder blade, and blood flowed down the torn sleeves and into the crucible.

The liquid in the crucible immediately turned a dazzling white. Diamond-like sparks splashed in all directions, so bright and dazzling that everything around turned into the color of black velvet.

"You have completed your great mission, Harry!" Little Barty screamed excitedly, even happier than the moment he was free! He threw away the dagger in his hand, pulled Harry over, and framed Harry's head tightly with his hands, forcing Harry to witness it all!

"Look! The great Dark Lord is reborn!"

"He won't succeed!" Harry gritted his teeth.

But Harry's prayer failed.

The sparks on the crucible went out. A white vapor rose from the crucible, covering everything in front of Harry.

Then, through the white mist in front of him, he saw with horror the black figure of a man slowly rising from the crucible, tall and thin, like a skeleton.

The hazy white mist was instantly dyed black by the power of magic, and then turned into a material that seemed like a gauze dress, and finally became a black robe draped over the skeleton.

The wandering three-headed snake had returned to Voldemort's feet at some point, crawling.

"You are wrong, Harry."

The thin man stepped out of the crucible and stared at Harry... Harry saw the face that often appeared in his nightmares for three years, paler than the skeleton, with two big red eyes, a nose as flat as a snake's nose, and two thin slits in the nostrils...

Voldemort was resurrected.

He did not greet Harry immediately, but checked his body. Miraculously, he actually pulled out a wand from the robe, and it was the one he used before.

"Master!" Little Barty threw Harry to the ground and fell at Voldemort's feet, but he was not kneeling, but more like relying on him, "How do you feel?"

Voldemort closed his scarlet snake eyes, as if he was experiencing the feeling of a body that truly belonged to him: "Better than ever before--"

After fusing the soul in the pendant, Voldemort did feel that his magic power seemed to have improved a little, very small, but real!

This is a wonderful feeling.

Since school days, Voldemort has not known what it feels like to have a complete soul. He changed himself beyond recognition, but his power was increasing, because he was far from reaching his heyday at that time.

As for now, he has only recovered a little insignificant power.

"The only regret is that I used the flesh of such a traitor to resurrect." He glanced at Karkaroff with contempt, as if he was looking at some dirty garbage.

"You should use my flesh--" Little Barty said immediately.

"Of course not, Barty, I hope you should stay intact!" Voldemort said arrogantly, but with a kind of expectation.

He was barefoot, stepping on the black soil. When he passed by Karkaroff, Karkaroff looked at him pleadingly.

"Hand!"

Karkaroff's pale face showed joy, and he stretched out the bleeding broken hand, like a person in distress praying for the Lord's salvation.

But Voldemort was not a merciful Lord.

His expression was very indifferent, as if he was looking at a dead body: "The other one!"

Karkaroff froze immediately.

Voldemort didn't say another word, he just waved his hand, as if he had grasped a non-existent rope, and pulled up Karkaroff's other hand.

Then, he rolled up Karkaroff's sleeve to his elbow.

Harry saw something on the skin there, like a bright red tattoo pattern-a snake spitting out of a skull's mouth.

Dark Mark!

Voldemort looked at the pattern with nostalgia, as if recalling the past days. He missed his past power and strength, the painful wails of Muggles, and the pleasure of Death Eaters crawling humbly at his feet!

"They will all know that you are back!" Little Barty said excitedly, "Lestrange, Lucius, Flint... They are all waiting for your call, sir!"

Voldemort chuckled and pressed his long, pale index finger on Karkaroff's arm.

The scar on Harry's forehead hurt again, and Karkaroff wailed again.

Voldemort showed a cruel and complacent look on his face. He straightened up, raised his head, and scanned the dark nest.

"Waiting for my call?"

"But after feeling it, how many people have the courage to come back?" He murmured, staring at the stars in the sky with his glowing red eyes, "and how many people will be stupid not to come?"