Harry's eyes were fixed on the sword, and he heard the incantation, the blood of the enemy, and the enemy of Voldemort.......

Harry felt the tip of the sword stab into the crook of his right arm. Blood was pouring from his tattered clothes.

Barty Crouch, who was still wheezing in pain, pulled a small glass vial out of his pocket and reached for Harry's wound.

A large drop of blood got into the bottle.

He hobbled back to the cauldron with Harry's blood. Pour the blood into it.

The liquid kept changing, and finally turned an empty white.

Barty Crouch Jr. fell to his knees by the steamer in exhaustion, as if his job was done.

Then he fell to the side and lay on the grass, gasping and whimpering, clutching the bleeding spot on his arm.

However, the expression on Barty Crouch Jr.'s face made Van Lin shudder, and it was hard to imagine such a fanaticism......

The steamer slowly boiled, and it was sparkling again. Nothing else has changed......

"Drown it...... Harry prayed inwardly, "let the whole thing go wrong." ”

Then, all of a sudden, the sparks in the pot went out. Instead, there was a huge puff of white smoke that obscured everything in front of Harry.

He couldn't see Barty Crouch Jr. or the man who didn't want to name him, all he had in his eyes was the vapor suspended in the air......

"It went wrong," Harry thought, "...... The monster was drowned...... Come on...... Please, God, let it die......"

Then, through the thick fog in front of him, Harry was terrified as he saw the black silhouette of a man, tall and thin, slowly rising from the inside of the steamer.

"Dress me!" a high, cold voice rang out from behind the fog.

Barty Crouch Jr., though still whimpering and moaning, shook his wound and crawled to pick up the pile of black clothes on the grass. Then he staggered to his feet, lifted his toes, and put one hand on his master's head.

The whole process took less than ten seconds, but Van Lin's heart was getting worse and worse.

Loyal Death Eaters can give everything to Voldemort, just like the fanatics in religion, although they still retain human weakness, but ......

The tall, lanky man stepped out of the pot and stared at Harry...... Harry also stared at the ugly face that had plagued him with nightmares for three years—a face paler than his skull, large black-red eyes, a nose as flat as a snake's nose, and many cracks in his nostrils...... Duke Voldemort is resurrected again.

It was destined to be a memorable moment, thirteen years later, when Voldemort lived in the world with a human body at a time.

Voldemort looked away from Harry and began to examine his own body.

His hands were like large, pale spiders, his long, white fingers caressing his chest gently. Arms and face, red eyes with cracked pupils, like cat's eyes, shining brighter in the dark. He raised his hand and stretched his fingers with a preoccupied and pleasant expression.

He didn't notice little Barty Crouch, who was lying on the ground twitching and bleeding, and he didn't notice the serpent, which slid back into Harry's sight, and was wrapping around Harry again, hissing.

Voldemort's hands, with their unnatural fingers, slipped into a deep pocket and pulled out a short staff. He also gently caressed the staff, then raised it and aimed it at Barty Crouch Jr.

Barty Crouch Jr. was excitedly getting up from the ground and pounced on the tombstone where Harry was tied.

Formmore looked at Harry with those crimson eyes. He let out a high-pitched, cold, unsmiling laugh.

Barty Crouch Jr.'s robes were glowing with blood - he had wrapped his broken arm inside.

"Stretch out your arms. Voldemort said lazily. "Oh, master...... Of course, my host host ......"

He handed out the bloody stump, but Voldemort smiled again, "Barty Crouch, the other arm." ”

"Okay, okay...... It's mine...... My master ......" Barty Jr. did not dare to overstep in the slightest, and he knelt at Voldemort's feet, and let the queen hold out his right hand, which was intact.

Voldemort crouched down and pulled Barty Crouch Jr.'s right hand.

He pushed the sleeves of Crouch's robe over his elbows.

Harry saw something on his skin, what appeared to be a bright red tattoo — it was a skull with a snake sticking out of its mouth — exactly like the one that had appeared in the sky of the Fast Diss World Cup: a black logo.

Voldemort ignored Barty Crouch Jr.'s irrepressible snort and scrutinized it carefully. "It's back," he said softly, "and they've all definitely noticed...... Now we'll see...... Now we'll know ......"

He pressed his long, white index finger against the mark on Crouch's arm. The scar on Harry's forehead ached as if it had been burned by fire, and Crouch couldn't help but let out a cry.

Voldemort's fingers moved away from Crouch's imprint, and Harry saw that it had turned black and shiny.

A cruel look of satisfaction appeared on Voldemort's face. He straightened up, turned his head, and looked around at the dark grave.

"How many people would dare to come back when they felt me resurrected?" he muttered, his shining red eyes staring at the stars. "And how many people would be stupid enough to leave?"

After speaking, Voldemort lowered his head to look at Barty Crouch Jr.

"Well done," Voldemort praised, "just like Bella, you're all my companions......"

Voldemort said, taking Barty Crouch Jr.'s left hand, "This is the reward you deserve, Crouch, though your father ......."

Voldemort didn't say more, and with a wave of his wand, a silver-white palm appeared in Crouch's empty sleeve.

"Welcome back, my host. Barty Crouch Jr. respectfully accepted it.

"Oh, of course, my friend......" Voldemort stood up, Barty Crouch Jr. thanked him and stepped aside.

He began pacing around, and Harry and Van Lin had been scanning the tomb ever since.

After about a minute, he looked down at Harry again, his serpentine face distorted by a cruel smile.

"Harry. Potter, you're standing on the remains of my dead father," he said softly, "a complete fool,...... Just like your dear mother. But they all have their own uses, don't they? Your mother died trying to protect you as a child...... And I killed my dad and saw him prove how useful he was in his death......" Voldemort laughed again.

He paced up again, looking around as he went, and the snake was still circling in the meadow.