Old Blood at Hogwarts

The short man pushed the crucible in front of the tombstone and scratched the bottom of the crucible with his wand, and a crackling flame suddenly burst out under the crucible.

The liquid in the crucible seemed to heat up very quickly.Not only did the surface begin to boil, but sparks shot out, as if it were on fire.The steam became thicker and thicker, and the figure of the short man tending the flames became blurred.

Suddenly, Aaron heard a sharp, cold voice: "Quick!"

【Who is speaking? 】

Aaron couldn't help being surprised and hurriedly looked around for the speaker.Suddenly, he saw that the bundle that the short man had placed on the ground was moving restlessly.

[Could it be that baggage thing talking? 】

Now the whole water in the crucible was sparkling with sparks, as if it were studded with diamonds.

"It's done, Master," said the short man.

"Now..." said the cold voice.

The short man tore the bundle off the floor to reveal its contents.Aaron almost screamed, and he quickly covered his mouth.

Inside the bundle was a slimy, eyeless ugly thing.The thing that the short man held out looked like a curled-up baby, but Aaron had never seen anything less like a baby.It had no hair all over its body and seemed to have scales on it. Its skin was dark and red, like injured tender meat.Its arms and legs were thin and soft, and its face - no child had such a face - was a flat snake face with gleaming red eyes.

The thing looked completely incapable of taking care of itself. The short man held it in his hands, and it raised its thin arms and hugged the short man's neck.At this time, the short man's hood fell down, and in the light of the fire, Aaron recognized the pale and weak face as Peter Pettigrew.

I saw Peter Pettigrew carrying the thing to the edge of the crucible and putting it into the crucible.With a hiss, it sank.Aaron heard the soft sound of its limp body hitting the bottom of the crucible.

Then, Peter Pettigrew raised his wand, closed his eyes, and said to the night sky with a trembling voice: "The bones of my father, donated unintentionally, can regenerate your son!"

Aaron saw the tomb crack open at Harry's feet, and a small plume of dust rose into the air at Peter Pettigrew's call and fell gently into the cauldron.The diamond-like liquid surface suddenly burst, hissing, sparks flying, and the liquid turned a bright blue, which was clearly poisonous at a glance.

Peter Pettigrew whimpered and pulled out a long, thin, shining silver dagger from his cloak.His voice suddenly turned into a sob of extreme fear: "The flesh of your servant...is voluntarily donated by you, so that...your master...can be reborn."

He stretched out his right hand with one finger missing, then held the dagger tightly with his left hand and swung it toward his right hand.

With a scream that penetrated the night sky, Peter Pettigrew's right hand fell to the ground, and blood spurted out from the broken arm and splashed on the surrounding ground.

Suddenly, Aaron felt that what Peter Pettigrew said sounded familiar. After a moment of recall, he realized: Isn't this the prophecy he made?

[Is this where the prophecy should be?Is today the day the mysterious man returns? 】

At this time, Peter Pettigrew had wrapped his bleeding broken arm in a robe. He gasped in pain, picked up his right hand, and threw it into the crucible.The potion in the crucible suddenly turned fiery red, emitting a strong red light.

Then, Peter Pettigrew came to Harry, raised the dazzling silver dagger and said: "The blood of the enemy...the blood of the enemy...is forced to be sacrificed...can make your enemy...resurrection."

Aaron saw Harry struggling to free himself from the ropes that bound him, but he was tied too tightly and could only watch as the dagger fell.

For a moment, Aaron thought Peter Pettigrew was trying to kill Harry, and he almost went to save him.But the worst-case scenario did not happen. The tip of the dagger pierced Harry's arm, and blood dripped down the torn sleeve of his robe.Peter Pettigrew, who was still panting in pain, tremblingly took out a small glass bottle from his pocket and placed it under Harry's wound. A stream of blood flowed into the bottle.He staggered over to the cauldron with Harry's blood and poured it into it.The liquid in the crucible immediately turned dazzling white.

Peter Pettigrew completed his task, knelt down next to the crucible, leaned over, and collapsed on the ground, gasping and sobbing while holding his bleeding broken arm.

The crucible was about to boil, and diamond-like sparks splashed out in all directions, so bright and dazzling that everything around them turned the color of black velvet.

Suddenly, the spark on the crucible went out.A stream of white steam rose up from the crucible, covering everything in front of Aaron.He could not see Peter Pettigrew and Harry, only a white mist.Then, through the white mist in front of him, he saw with horror the black figure of a man rising slowly from the crucible. He was tall and thin, like a skeleton.

"Dress me," said the grim, shrill voice behind the steam.

Peter Pettigrew sobbed and groaned, still protecting his remaining arm, and hurriedly grabbed the black robe in which the bundle was wrapped from the ground, stood up, and pulled it over his master's head with one hand.

The thin man stepped out of the crucible.Aaron saw that his skin was even paler than his skull, and his two big eyes were bright red, shining in the darkness.His nose was as flat as a snake's, and his nostrils were two thin slits.

[The man whose name cannot be told has returned to the magical world today, and the fear he once felt has returned. 】

Aaron looked at the thin man and thought to himself.

[Is this Voldemort?To be honest, he looks really ugly. 】

Aaron had seen Voldemort in his student days.It was really difficult for him to connect the handsome student representative with the ugly monster in front of him.

[Is it because of the transformation of black magic? 】

That was the only reason Aaron could think of.

Voldemort raised his hands and moved his fingers with an ecstatic expression, ignoring Peter Pettigrew who was lying on the ground bleeding and convulsing.He thrust his impossibly long fingers into a deep pocket and pulled out a wand.He stroked the wand lightly, then raised the wand and pointed it at Peter, picked him up from the ground and threw him onto the tombstone where Harry was tied.

Peter Pettigrew fell beside the tombstone and collapsed there crying.Voldemort turned his bright red eyes to Harry and let out a cold, sharp smile.

Peter Pettigrew choked and said: "Master...Master...you promised...you promised..."

"Stretch out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh, Master...Thank you, Master..." Peter Pettigrew quickly stretched out his bloody broken arm,

But Voldemort sneered again: "The other arm, Wormtail."

"Master, please... please..." Peter Pettigrew begged.

Voldemort impatiently bent down, took Peter's left arm, and pushed his sleeve up to his elbow.Aaron saw a bright red tattoo on the skin, a skull spitting out a snake, which was the graphic that appeared in the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark.

Voldemort studied it carefully, ignoring Peter's uncontrollable sobs.

"It's back," Voldemort said softly, "They will all notice it... now, we will see... we will know..."

He pressed his long, pale index finger to the mark on Peter's arm.Peter wailed again.

Voldemort took his finger away from Peter's mark, and Aaron saw the mark turn pitch black.

Voldemort had a cruel look of triumph on his face.He straightened up, raised his head, and scanned the dark cemetery.He stared at the stars in the sky with his glowing red eyes and murmured: "After feeling it, how many people have the guts to come back? And how many people are stupid enough not to come?"

He began to pace back and forth, glancing at the cemetery from time to time.About a minute later, his eyes fell on Harry, and the snake's face twisted into a cruel smile.

He hissed softly: "Harry Potter, you are standing over the bones of my father. He was a Muggle and an idiot, just like your mother. But they all had their uses, didn't they? When you were little, your mother died protecting you. I killed my father. You see, how useful he was after his death."

Voldemort laughed again.He was pacing back and forth, looking around.

"See that house on the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother was a wizard who lived in this village and fell in love with him. But when she revealed who she was, he abandoned her. She. My father didn't like magic. He left her and went back to his Muggle parents. I wasn't born yet, Potter. My mother died in childbirth when she gave birth to me. I was in a Muggle orphanage. Big... I vowed to find him and take revenge on him... I took revenge on that fool who gave me the same name as him - Tom Riddle."

He continued to pace up and down, his red eyes scanning the graves to and fro.

"Ah, I'm a little sad...but look, Harry! My real family is back!"

The air was suddenly filled with the rustling of cloaks.Between the graves, behind the fir trees, and in every dark place, wizards apparated.They were all hooded and had their faces covered.They walked over one by one, walking slowly and cautiously, as if they couldn't believe their eyes.