"Master, I have delivered Harry Potter into your hands. Barty Jr. said in a tone that mixed humility and fanaticism, and the whole person bent down hard like a shrimp, looking at the expression on his face, if Voldemort was standing there at this time, he would not hesitate to kiss Voldemort's feet.

"Good. You'll be rewarded in the unexpected. The snake-faced baby hissed as if it were a snake. "Take me over and let me see our guests. ”

Barty Jr. did not hesitate to take the baby version of Voldemort, when a gust of wind blew off the hood of the short wizard, revealing a lewd face. Peter escaped from Azkaban and went after Voldemort.

The package containing Voldemort was held up in front of Harry by Barty Jr., and a hissing sound was heard from inside the package.

"What a great prey this is, we've been preparing for more than half a year to get him. Fortunately, we had a good time for the raid and unexpectedly reached our goal. Voldemort sighed.

Voldemort's voice turned cold, "Now, what are you waiting to do here?"

Hearing this, Peter quickly bent away, and in a few moments pushed out a heavy stone crucible from behind a small mound, which seemed to be completely filled, and the sound of liquid splashing could be heard in it as he moved it. The potions in the cauldron were as clear as water after boiling a large number of expensive medicinal materials, and if this pot of potions were scrapped, even Voldemort himself would need at least three months to make another pot, not counting the previous efforts to collect materials.

After placing the pot in place, Wormtail uses his wand to scratch the base of the cauldron. Suddenly, a crackling fire burst out from under the cauldron. The pot of rare and expensive potions boiled quickly with the help of the flames, and its surface jumped wildly, even sputtering sparks from time to time, as if it were burning. The steam around them became thicker and thicker, and the figure of the insect tail watching the flames became blurred. The high-pitched, cold voice came from the fog again.

"It's now, quick. ”

With a serious expression, little Barty untied the swaddling clothes in his hand as seriously as a holy object. The creature with dark red skin, no hair, deformed limbs, and a flattened snake face with red eyes was revealed.

But little Barty showed no disgust, and he 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 boiling and sparkling crucible.

Voldemort's resurrection drama is about to begin.

To be precise, this is not a resurrection. Resurrection does not exist in this Harry Potter world, and only those high demon worlds can give birth to such a completely anti-heaven skill.

What Voldemort is doing now is not so much resurrection as it is the recreation of a physical body for his weakened broken soul. After all, Voldemort, who made the Horcruxes, did not die, and naturally it was impossible to be resurrected.

The two Voldemort lackeys present showed a look of surprise, because even Dumbledore, who was recognized as the greatest white wizard, had no way to resurrect him, so that he felt guilty for the rest of his life with the regret of his sister's death. In this case, the scene of Voldemort's resurrection naturally made the two Death Eaters worship incomparably, for example, Peter was already a little unstable with excitement at this time.

But little Barty, who was in charge of the ceremony, was much more reliable than Peter—at least his hands didn't shake when he removed the clay pot from a tree stump. He tapped the mouth of the jar with his wand, "Father's bones, unintentionally donated, can give your son a second life!"

It seems that Voldemort dug up his father's grave, but this did not cause him any psychological pressure. Compared to killing his father's family with his own hands, digging a grave is nothing.

As he chanted, a small wisp of dust flew out of the jar and fell gently into the cauldron. The diamond-like liquid surface cracked, hissed, sparks flew everywhere, and the liquid turned a vivid blue, giving the impression that this liquid was absolutely poisonous.

When he was done, Barty Jr. carefully put the jar away. Of course, this was not because of the Muggle father who respected Voldemort, but because the flavor of this potion, which is also the father's bone, is limited. If Voldemort needed to do it again the next time, this thing would come in handy again. Anyway, there weren't many ashes for a potion, and the amount left in the jar was estimated to be enough for Voldemort to use it ten or eight more times.

After checking that this step was correct, Barty did not hesitate to roll up his sleeves and put his hand above the crucible. Then he said in a firm tone, "Servant's flesh, donate voluntarily to bring your master back to life!", and then the other hand drew the dagger from his leg and slashed it down, and a large amount of blood gushed out of the severance. But little Barty did not have the slightest pain on his face, but watched with a martyr's ecstasy as his arm fell into the pot.

The blue potion turned fiery red, and at the same time emitted a strong light outward. Peter Pettigrew's mind has been completely conquered by this scene. He knelt down against the pot, not knowing what he was muttering.

Barty Jr. first sealed the wound on his arm with a spell, and then approached Harry with a dagger and a crystal bottle. Just as he walked up to Harry to make a knife, a clay pot flew out of the nearby forest and smashed it on Peter, who was kneeling beside the pot.

Soon a stream of green flames enveloped him, causing him to let out a terrible scream and roll on the ground. At the same time, runes appeared from the crucible where Voldemort was stewing, blocking the approaching flames, but the barrier formed by these runes quickly shook under the licking of the green flames, and it seemed that it could not support it for too long.

"No!" Barty Crouch Jr. roared, and just as he was about to turn back to rescue the cauldron, he heard an angry voice from the pot, "Now hurry up and finish the ritual, quick!"

Suddenly, a blade of shadows struck the rope tied to the stump, and the rope snapped. Harry jerked to the ground. The impact woke Harry up, and he didn't bother to straighten out the collar that had fallen to the ground and had flipped up to cover his mouth and nose, and after seeing what he was seeing, he subconsciously kicked Barty Jr. in the knee as he walked towards him with a dagger.

Barty Jr. was unsteady on his feet after being kicked by his master, but at the command of his master, he lunged forward and hugged Harry. Then his mouth gnawed directly through his clothes on Harry's face.

As he nibbled on it, Barty Jr. felt as if he had broken Harry's teeth. A salty, sweet taste flowed into his mouth.

"Ahh Another shadow blade flew over. Perhaps the attacker was afraid of hitting Harry, who was holding him, and the blade flew diagonally through his leaking calf, directly off his left knee below.

Little Barty gave a sad and frantic look, then jerked down on the clothes that were blocking Harry's face and bit it straight on. A deep wound was cut in Harry's face.

"Hatred - the blood of the enemy...... Forced to give ...... can make your enemies ...... Resurrection. After reciting this incantation, little Crouch, whose mouth was full of blood, raised his head and spit out a mouthful of blood-red saliva, and flew directly into the crucible with the blessing of magic.

At that moment another blade of shadow flew over, and Harry was horrified to see Barty's head roll down. A few seconds later, he heard the voice of a strange little girl behind him. "You, hurry up and run away with me. ”

As the spit of Harry's blood flowed into the cauldron, the flames that had been bright and dark immediately lit up, and the cauldron was about to boil, and the diamond-like sparks flew out in all directions, bright and dazzling, turning everything around them into a black velvet color.

Although this practice makes the ceremony imperfect, it can even be said to be a bit humiliating. But the blood of the last enemy is also considered to be in the pot. Even though a few sharp blades composed of black shadows shot out of the forest, they were all stopped by the white mist coming out of the pot.

Finally, a man's black figure slowly rose from the crucible, tall and thin, like a skeleton.

Voldemort is resurrected.