Chapter 274 The Devil Returns
The night was falling. The stars were like a galaxy across the sky.
Harry stood in a dark, overgrown graveyard, looking around in panic, trying to figure out what was happening to him.
The scene went back to a few hours ago.
Harry had just seen the red sparks announcing the withdrawal of the two female warriors from the competition. He gritted his teeth and rushed deep into the maze - now, his chance of winning the championship had risen to 50%, he must race against time in the competition, maybe he really had the hope of reaching the finish line first and winning the championship.
Along the way, he first encountered a Dementor, and after he cast the Patronus Charm to repel it, he found that it was actually a Boggart.
After he used "Funny Funny" to solve the Boggart, he then passed through a golden mist that could turn the world upside down, and then answered a Sphinx's riddle correctly, finally allowing him to see the light in the distance, which should be the end of this maze.
At this time, he saw a thin book with a closed cover lying alone on the ground in the corner.
He suspected that this might be related to the clues of the maze. Out of the excessive curiosity of a Gryffindor, he walked over, picked up the book, and opened it to see -
It was empty inside. He turned several pages, but did not see a single word or a drop of ink. He frowned and became suspicious.
The last time he saw such an empty book was Tom Riddle's diary. That experience gave him a very bad memory.
He was about to put the book back, but found a bookmark made of feathers on the last page. It was a very beautiful powder blue feather.
He could not recognize what bird's feather it was, but he subconsciously thought it was very beautiful. He couldn't help but want to take this feather for himself. Anyway, everything in the maze was ownerless, so he couldn't be considered stealing.
The moment he touched the feather, he heard a "pop" sound, and the next second he appeared in this strange place.
Following his sight, he could see the black outline of a small church behind a tall yew tree on the right. There was a hill on the left. Harry could make out an exquisite old house on the hillside.
He looked around the cemetery, which was gloomy and silent. He had a strange feeling, as if someone was watching him in a dark place. He drew his wand and carefully guarded his surroundings.
In the darkness, a figure walked towards him step by step between the graves. Although the man's face could not be seen clearly, from his gait and the posture of his arms, the man seemed to be holding something. He was short and wore a hooded cloak that covered his face. Taking a few more steps closer, as the distance between them continued to narrow, Harry saw that the man was holding something like a baby.
The man stopped in front of a towering marble tombstone, only six feet away from Harry. At that moment, Harry stared at the short figure.
Suddenly, Harry's scar hurt violently. He had never felt such intense pain in his life. The wand slipped to the ground, he covered his face with his hands, his legs bent and fell to the ground, he could not see anything in front of him, his head seemed to explode.
He heard someone above his head say loudly and coldly: "Is it him?"
"Yes, I can be sure that it is him, my master." The short man in the cloak said respectfully.
"Very good, it seems that the plan is going well-" the cold voice continued, "Don't waste time, start preparing the ceremony, I can't wait..."
"Quickly imprison!" The short man took advantage of the moment when Harry was still suffering from a headache and had no ability to resist, and used magic to conjure a rope to tie Harry up, then dragged Harry to the marble tombstone, and finally tied him to a tombstone.
Harry in this world had never seen Peter Pettigrew, so he did not associate the image of the short man in front of him with Peter Pettigrew.
"Who are you? What do you want to do!" Harry shouted coldly.
Peter Pettigrew did not answer him, nor did he even look at Harry. He raised his wand and pushed a huge crucible under the grave with great effort.
The crucible seemed to be full of water, enough for an adult to sit in.
"The flames are blazing," Peter Pettigrew quickly touched the bottom of the crucible with his wand, and crackling flames jumped up from under the crucible. The liquid in the crucible seemed to heat up very quickly, and the surface not only began to boil, but also burst out sparks, as if it was burning.
"It's burned, my master." Peter Pettigrew said carefully, and now the whole surface of the water was flashing with sparks, as if it was covered with diamonds.
"Huh, it's not bad. How are the people over there..." The things in the bundle on the ground moved restlessly, and a cold voice came from there.
"They... they didn't say anything... I think... I think they should have other arrangements..." Peter Pettigrew said carefully.
"Huh! Can they be so kind? To help us for no reason?" The cold voice continued, "If it weren't for the ball-eating bird feather they designed, we wouldn't have been able to get it so easily. Little Barty himself said that he was not completely sure that he could ensure the smooth implementation of the plan and allow the boy to touch the Goblet of Fire."
Diricawl is a fat, fluffy, flightless bird. In the Muggle world, they are very famous. They are called dodos and are only found on the island of Mauritius in the Indian Ocean, but they think that the dodos they are talking about have been hunted to extinction.
In fact, diricawls, like phoenixes and zouwu, have the ability to travel through space. This is one of the ways diricawls escape danger.
The ability of diricawls to suddenly disappear and reappear in another place is also not affected by anti-apparition restrictions, just like phoenixes and zouwu.
Apparently, Harry in the maze was brought to this cemetery by an activated diricaw feather.
"But you have to remember, Wormtail -" the voice said coldly: "I am your master."
"Yes, I, I know this, Master, please believe me..." Peter Pettigrew stammered, "I am loyal to you."
"Oh, really?" the voice said, "Then you'd better prove it to me later."
"Wormtail?" Harry suddenly guessed who was in front of him. He had dreamed of the two people in front of him several times at night, and Professor Trelawney also gave him a prophecy that made him difficult to let go during the exam week of the last semester.
"You are Wormtail! The traitor who killed my parents! You bastard!" Harry cursed, and then he looked at the bundle, "He, he is Voldemort?"
Snap! Peter Pettigrew slapped Harry hard, "Boy, you can't just call the master's name casually?" Then he used magic to conjure a piece of cloth and stuffed it into Harry's mouth, saying coldly: "Just stay quietly by the side!"
After doing all this, Peter Pettigrew opened the bundle, revealing Voldemort in his shabby state, and then put him into the crucible. With a hiss, it sank. Harry heard the sound of its soft body hitting the bottom of the crucible.
Then came the classic blood sacrifice ceremony.
As Peter Pettigrew put the bones of Voldemort's Muggle father, his own wrist and Harry's blood into the crucible, the liquid in the crucible immediately turned dazzling white.
Peter Pettigrew completed the task, knelt down beside the crucible, his body tilted, collapsed on the ground, holding his bleeding broken arm, gasping and sobbing.
The crucible was about to boil, and diamond-like sparks flew out in all directions, so bright and dazzling that everything around turned into the color of black velvet.
Harry kept praying, hoping that Voldemort would be drowned in the crucible, even though he knew how ridiculous this prayer sounded.
Suddenly, the sparks on the crucible went out. A white steam rose from the crucible, covering everything in front of Harry.
Then, through the white mist in front of him, he saw with horror that a man's black figure slowly rose from the crucible, tall and thin, like a skeleton.
"Put on my robes." The cold and sharp voice said behind the steam. Wormtail sobbed and groaned, still protecting his stump, hurriedly grabbed the black robe wrapped in the bundle from the ground, stood up, and put it on his master's head with one hand.
The thin man stepped out of the crucible, his eyes staring at Harry... Harry saw the face that had often appeared in his nightmares for three years, paler than a skeleton, two big red eyes, a nose as flat as a snake's nose, and two thin slits for nostrils...
Voldemort was resurrected.