After HP shared the dream, Lao Fu was conquered by me

Chapter 305 Voldemort (2)

But Wormtail had already pulled open the bundle on the ground, revealing its contents.

Harry let out a scream, but it was muffled by the gag in his mouth.

Lamia was shocked by what she saw, she had never seen anything so ugly, he was a hundred times more disgusting than a slimy slug.

He looked like a curled-up baby, but Lamia had never seen anything less like a baby.

It has no hair and its body seems to be covered with scales. Its skin is dark and red, like injured tender flesh.

Its arms and legs were thin and soft, and its face—no living child had such a face—was a flat, snake-like face with a pair of glowing red eyes.

The thing looked completely incapable of self-care. It raised its thin arms and threw them around Wormtail's neck. Wormtail held it in his hands, and then his cloak fell away, and Harry saw in the firelight an expression of disgust on his pale, frail face.

Wormtail carried the thing to the edge of the cauldron, and for a moment Harry saw the splash of water dancing on the surface of the potion, illuminating the evil flat face.

Wormtail placed the object into the cauldron. It sank with a hiss and a thud as its limp body hit the bottom.

Harry was now crying out in pain from his scar.

"Tom, I am your fiancée, always have been." Lamia said, she closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, there was only determination in them.

"Very well, Lamia, then we should be the closest of friends, but, dear, I can't feel it at all," said Tom casually.

Lamia glanced at Tom angrily, then looked at Harry.

Wormtail kept talking, his voice trembling as if he were out of his mind with fear.

Lamia launched countless attacks during this period, but they were all blocked by the barrier and did not hinder Wormtail at all. Not only that, the big snake suddenly jumped behind her and bit her right leg tightly. The snake venom and entanglement made Lamia collapse to the ground.

Wormtail raised his wand, closed his eyes, and said to the night sky: "Father's bones, donated unintentionally, can give your son a new life!"

The grave beneath Harry's feet cracked open, and a tiny wisp of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's beckoning, gently falling into the crucible. The diamond-like surface of the liquid cracked, hissing and sparking, and the liquid turned a bright red-blue, obviously poisonous.

Wormtail whimpered.

He drew a long, thin, gleaming silver dagger from his cloak, and his voice suddenly broke into a sob of extreme fear: "Servant's flesh, voluntarily donated, can bring - your master - back to life."

He stretched out his right hand—the one with the missing finger—and then, grasping the dagger tightly in his left hand, swung it towards his right hand.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, but that couldn't stop the scream that pierced the night air and pierced right into Harry, as if he too had been stabbed by a dagger.

Lamia looked at everything in front of her helplessly. She had no way to do anything.

There was a painful gasp from Wormtail, followed by a sickening plop as something was dropped into the cauldron.

Wormtail was gasping and groaning in pain, and then he was in front of Harry.

"The blood of your enemies... forced to give... can resurrect your enemies...."

Harry was unable to stop himself; he was tied too tightly. He struggled desperately, trying to break free from the ropes that bound him. Through the slits of his eyes he saw the gleaming dagger trembling in Wormtail's single hand.

He felt the tip of the dagger piercing his arm, and blood flowed down the torn sleeve of his robe. Wormtail, who was still gasping in pain, trembled and took out a small glass bottle from his pocket and placed it next to Harry's wound. A small amount of blood flowed into the bottle.

Wormtail staggered over to the cauldron with Harry's blood and poured it in. The liquid in the crucible immediately turned a blinding white.

Wormtail completed his task, knelt down beside the crucible, and collapsed to the ground, holding his bleeding broken arm, gasping and sobbing.

The crucible was on the verge of boiling, and diamond-like sparks flew everywhere, so bright and dazzling that everything around it turned into black velvet.

Lamia stopped struggling.

Suddenly, the sparks on the crucible went out, and a white vapor rose from the crucible, covering everything around it.

Then, through the white mist in front of her, Lamia saw a black figure of a man slowly rising from the crucible, tall and thin, like a skeleton.

"Dress me," said the cold, sharp voice behind the steam.

Sobbing and groaning, Wormtail, still protecting his stump, hastily snatched up the bundle's black robe from the ground, rose, and with one hand pulled it over his master's head.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron and stared at Harry. His face was paler than a skull, with two large red eyes and a nose as flat as a snake's, with two thin slits for nostrils.

Voldemort is resurrected.

Voldemort turned his gaze from Harry and began to examine his own body. His hands were like large pale spiders, and his slender pale fingers stroked his chest, arms, and face. His red eyes appeared brighter in the darkness, and his pupils were two slits, like a cat's eyes.

He raised his hands and flexed his fingers with an expression of ecstasy, paying no attention to Wormtail, who lay bleeding and twitching on the ground, or to the giant snake.

It had released Lamia, but she had lost her last chance to resist, and the snake hissed and spun around Voldemort.

Voldemort reached into a deep pocket with his unusually long fingers and pulled out a wand. He stroked the wand gently once, then raised it and pointed it at Wormtail, lifted him from the ground, and threw him onto the tombstone where Harry was tied.

Wormtail fell beside the tombstone and collapsed there crying. Voldemort turned his bright red eyes on Harry and uttered a cold, sharp laugh.

The robes covering Wormtail's severed arm were soaked with blood.

"Master..." choked Wormtail, "Master... you promised... you promised..."

"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh, Master... Thank you, Master..."

He held out his bloody severed arm, but Voldemort sneered again, "Not this one, Wormtail."

"Master, please...please..."

Voldemort leaned over, took Wormtail's left arm, and rolled up his sleeve above his elbow.

Voldemort examined the Dark Mark carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable sobbing.

"It's coming back," he whispered. "They'll all notice it... Now, we'll see... we'll know..."