Belacritus drew a long, thin, silver-glittering dagger from his cloak. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

Calmly and fervently, she said, "The flesh of the servant may be given voluntarily to make your master reborn." ”

She stretched out her left hand and cut off her right hand without hesitation.

She gasped in pain, plopped, and something was thrown into the cauldron. Harry didn't want to look at it...... But the potion turned fiery red, and a bright light shot into Harry's closed eyes......

Bellatrix was gasping and moaning in pain. It was only when the painful breath squirted into his face that Harry realized that she had come to him.

"The blood of the enemy...... Forced to give ...... can make your enemies ...... Resurrection. ”

Harry couldn't stop it, he was tied up too tightly...... He struggled desperately to break free from the ropes that bound him, and he saw through his eyes that the silver dagger was holding Bellatrix steadily, and although her other hand was mutilated, it still did not affect her behavior.

He felt the tip of the dagger stab into the crook of his arm, blood running down the torn sleeve of his robe.

Bellatrix shuddered and pulled a small glass vial out of her pocket and placed it next to Harry's wound, a small amount of blood spilling into the bottle.

She staggered over to the cauldron with Harry's blood and poured it in.

The liquid in the crucible immediately turned a dazzling white.

Bellatrix finished her task and fell to her knees by the cauldron, silent, welcoming someone as she arrived.

The cauldron was about to boil, and the diamond-like sparks splattered outwards in all directions, so bright and dazzling that everything around them turned into a black velvety color.

Let's hope it's drowned, Harry thought, hopefully it won't work......

Suddenly, the spark on the crucible went out. A puff of white vapor rose from the cauldron, obscuring everything in front of Harry.

All he saw was a white expanse of water...... Definitely not successful...... It drowned...... Please...... Please let it die......

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

"Dress me." The cold, shrill voice said behind the vapor.

Bellatrix picked up the black cloak on the ground and put it on Voldemort.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, his eyes fixed on Harry...... Harry saw the faces that had been in his nightmares for three years, paler than skeletons, with two large red eyes, a nose as flat as a snake's, and two thin slits in the nostrils......

Voldemort is resurrected.

Voldemort looked at himself and let out a high-pitched, shrill laugh, his red eyes unblinking as he looked at Harry, his long disproportionate fingers pulling a wand out of his pocket.

Voldemort bent down, grabbed Bellatrix's left arm, and pulled her sleeve up to her elbow.

Harry saw something on the skin, what appeared to be a bright red tattoo - a skeleton spat out of its mouth a snake, the same one seen in the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark mark.

Voldemort scrutinized it closely, while Bellatrix just looked at him with fanatical adoration: "Master, you're finally back......"

For a moment, she was in tears.

"It's back," he whispered, "and they'll all notice it...... Now, we'll see...... We'll know ......."

He pressed his long, pale index finger to Bellatrix's arm.

The pain in Harry's forehead was sharp again, and Voldemort pulled his finger away, and Harry saw the mark turn pitch black.

Voldemort had a cruel smug look on his face. He straightened up, tilted his head, and scanned the dark graveyard.

"How many people have the guts to come back after feeling it?" He muttered, glowing red eyes staring at the stars in the sky, "And how many people would be stupid not to come?" ”

He began pacing back and forth in front of Harry and Bellatrix, scanning the cemetery from time to time. After about a minute, his gaze fell on Harry again, his snake face contorted into a cruel smile.

"Harry Potter, you're standing on my father's bones." He hissed softly, "He's a Muggle-and-...... Just like your own mother. But they're all useful, aren't they? When you were young, your mother died protecting you...... I killed my father, you see, how useful he came in after his death......"

Voldemort laughed again. He paced back and forth, glancing around, the snake still scurrying around the grass.

"See that house on the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a wizard, lived in this village and fell in love with him. But when she revealed herself, he abandoned her...... My father didn't like magic ......"

While Voldemort was happily pretending, a lazy voice sounded in the void ahead, "Tom, isn't it ridiculous to tell your old family history in front of a fourteen-year-old?" ”

Voldemort's voice seemed to be pinched by a large, invisible hand, and he paused as he was walking, and jerked his head up to look at the person who suddenly appeared in mid-air.

He was tall and thin, his face seemed to be mysteriously blurred in the darkness, and he was playing with a wand in mid-air, looking at him playfully.

Voldemort suddenly felt an inexplicable dizziness, and he seemed to sense that this person he seemed to have seen before in some distant memory.

He felt a little nervous.

Tom? How many years has this name not been called? Maybe decades?

He felt a bone-chilling humiliation, and his humble origins were an eternal pain in his heart.

“AvadaKedavra！” Voldemort roared, and a green spell shot out of his wand.

Wang Yong just raised his wand slightly, and the curse was picked up by Wang Yong.

He pointed at random, and a green spell struck Belaclitus, who was watching from the sidelines.

The woman quickly fell to the side, dead and could not die again.

A sneering smile flashed on Wang Yong's face: "Tom, show your strength?" What kind of demon king can't even protect his own servants? ”

"Ahh Voldemort let out an earth-shattering roar, like a python with a scorched throat.

"You killed my most faithful servant, and I will let you know what hell is!"

Another Avada Curse.

Wang Yong flashed in the air and quickly avoided it.

"Show your strength, Tom, this won't work......" Wang Yong mocked in the air.

Voldemort's spell was getting faster and faster, almost instantaneous, but it still couldn't hit Wang Yong even once.