Bang!

It was as if someone had pulled his spine out, and Harry fell to his knees, the world was so quiet that he could even hear the sound of blood rushing in his veins.

Ron and Hermione, his two best friends, lay motionless on a pile of rubble, not moaning in pain, not trying to struggle to get up, they just lay there quietly, staring at the sky with de-glazed eyes.

The three of them met at Hogwarts Express four years ago, and it wasn't a pleasant first acquaintance, but Harry hadn't forgotten any of the details.

As fate would have it, they became friends at Hogwarts, and together they had made many of the levels of the Philosopher's Stone, saving Nicolame's Philosopher's Stone from Quirrell and Voldemort. Together, they hid in Myrtle's bathroom to make a polyjuice potion, and stormed the Slytherin secret room to save Ginny. They had followed Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest to save Sirius from werewolves and Dementors.

At Hogwarts, they attend classes together, eat together, play together, and go on night outings together.

Outside of school, they go to the Quidditch World Cup together and visit the orphanage where Professor Bryan grew up.

Hermione was the smartest little witch he'd ever met, always helping him when it mattered, and Ron showed him how good it was to have a close brother.

Harry had always believed that their friendship would last, even after they left Hogwarts and had their own families and lives, just like his mom and dad did with Sirius and Remus.

However, they are now lying on the ground, motionless

Harry fell to his knees, but he felt like he was empty, both mentally and physically, as if he had been sinking into a bottomless abyss.

"No"

The pair of turquoise eyes have never been so dim, and the heart filled with courage has never been so afraid of reality.

"No"

Harry shook his head and whispered, but he couldn't hear himself.

How could this happen, they Ron and Hermione would die?

It was ridiculous, almost as ridiculous as someone had told him that Professors Dumbledore and Bryan were actually the most terrible Dark Lords.

Harry shuddered, he wasn't afraid. His heart couldn't feel any emotion anymore, he was just a little cold, a little tired. It was tiring, so he didn't even have the strength to struggle when the Death Eater, who had somehow escaped Azkaban's punishment, grabbed him by the back and dragged him.

Perhaps it was the previous defeat that Barty Crouch Jr. dragged Harry very roughly, and he didn't care if Harry would get hurt at all, and along the way, the sharp gravel on the ground didn't cut through his tracksuit, but his legs were still bloodied.

Finally getting there, Barty Jr. threw Harry hard in front of a tall tombstone, causing Harry's back to hit the tombstone hard before Harry saw a name in the flickering light of his wand.

Tom Riddle.

Desperate to prove that he wasn't a piece of waste, Barty used his magic to conjure a rope and tie Harry tightly to the tombstone, from neck to ankle, fearing that Harry would break free, he checked himself several times after finishing it, and finally, cut open his robe, crumpled it into a ball, and rudely stuffed it into Harry's mouth.

After all this, Barty Jr. left.

The whole time, Harry was motionless, just staring blankly at where Hermione and Ron had fallen, he could now hear the voice, it was a low sob, a few dozen feet away, the elf was repeating something, but Harry couldn't hear it, and Barty Crouch Sr. seemed to be really dead, and he had been lying there motionless since the warning.

There was a hissing sound in the grass, and a large serpent with bright markings swam in front of Harry, its scarlet eyes and sharp fangs looking even more terrifying than the basilisk he had ever encountered.

"Nagini, he's not fit to cook your dinner, even if he's dead--"

The gnome monster's lazy voice pierced through the darkness and fell into Harry's ears,

"I'll return his body to Dumbledore, I'm sure he'll love the gift. Wait, you'll have a full meal, wait a little longer."

Nagini spat out the snake letter and licked Harry's cheek, then curled up in obedience and hibernated again.

Little Barty returned with a sickly smile, and returned with a heavy stone crucible that seemed to be filled with water, and he heard the splashing sound in the crucible when his hearing was restored. The cauldron was larger than all the cauldrons Ha had ever used, and could accommodate an adult to sit in it.

With a few gasps, Barty Jr. used his wand to light a fire under the cauldron, and the liquid inside the crucible seemed to heat up quickly, and the surface not only began to boil, but also burst into sparks, as if burning.

The steaming heat grew thicker and thicker, and even little Barty's figure became blurred.

"Quick!"

Harry heard the harsh, cold voice again, and his scar began to hurt again, the pain that pierced his numbness and made him desperately gasp.

When little Barty left and returned, the entire water in the crucible was filled with sparks, as if it were covered with diamonds.

"It's done, master!"

Little Barty's excited voice trembled, and the flickering not far away let out a loud wail.

"Now." The cold voice said.

Little Barty carried the dwarf to the crucible vise, and the ugly face covered with pus behind the faint fog made Harry's whole body tremble, but his mouth was so tightly gagged that he couldn't let out a roar of pain, and he didn't want to exhale in pain, his hatred was like a sea of hatred that surpassed everything, and he didn't want to show weakness!

Barty Crouch reverently lifted the dwarf and gently lowered it into the cauldron, the sparks that pulsed on contact with the potion's surface made Harry see the flat face as the abscesses burst and repaired.

Harry whimpered and roared, his scar as if it was being roasted by fire, and the pain could not make him squeeze, and he began to struggle, trying to tear the dwarf apart!

But he couldn't do it, anger was the most useless thing, nothing could be changed.

The gnome monster made a soft noise from the bottom of a pot, and little Barty took a deep breath, and he cleared his throat, his sickly face seemed to glow, as if he were enjoying the honor of accidental injury--

"A father's bones, unintentionally donated, can give your son a second life!"

The rage cracked at Harry's feet, and a small wisp of dust rose into the air in response to Barty's summons, landing gently in the cauldron. The pages of the Diamond Edition cracked, hissing and sparks flying.

"The flesh of a servant, voluntarily donated, may make - make your master come back to life!"

Barty Jr. was singing as if singing, and he did not hesitate to aim his wand at his left hand, and after a flash of ghostly light, his palm fell into the cauldron.

Die! Cheap! Damn it!

Harry forced himself to watch the bloody scene, his gaze trying to penetrate the fiery red light of the potion, and he had a vicious desire to see Barty Crouch Jr. bleeding to death!

But little Barty's frenzied faith overcame the pain he had endured, and his pale face with a sickly smile approached Harry amid a sobbing of grief and Harry's hateful gaze.

Harry tried to spit out the strip of cloth that had gagged his mouth and tore Barty Jr.'s neck with his teeth, but he couldn't, and he could only watch Barty Crouch Jr. take the blood from his twisted arm.

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

The weakness caused Barty Jr. to stagger to the ground, but he did his job by throwing the glass vial of Harry's blood into the cauldron, and the liquid immediately glowed brightly.

The roar and roar of the beast could be heard in the black velvety darkness, and the air vibrated with an inexplicable force, an indescribable force that oppressed Harry's mind, suffocating him and almost fainting!

Something slowly rose in the white mist of a man, thin and tall, like a skeleton.

Little Barty struggled to his feet, and out of nowhere he pulled out his robe, and with a hoarse breath, put it on for his master.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, scarlet snake eyes staring at Harry and saw the face that had been in his nightmares for three years, paler than a skeleton, with a flat nose like a snake and two thin slits in his nostrils.

Thundered!

Dark thunder rolled above the gloomy sky, and the sound shook the earth, spreading throughout the four fields, as if announcing—

Voldemort is resurrected.

(End of chapter)