#239 - Section 239 - Hogwarts: This wizard wants to make progress too much

"Peter, what exactly are you trying to do?"

Ron, who had fallen to the ground, couldn't help but shout.

Although he was jealous of this and that, and really wanted to show off, he really didn't want to get involved with Peter, nor did he want Harry's life, and even less did he want to join the Death Eaters.

Several of his uncles had died at the hands of the Death Eaters, and if his mother found out about something like this, the consequences would be unimaginable; he might even be kicked out of the Weasley family.

He hadn't even dared to tell his family about letting Peter go, mainly because very few people knew about it, and no one would know unless he said so.

But now, if something happened to Harry, all these things were likely to be revealed, and Ron didn't even dare to think about the consequences.

Peter, facing Ron's angry roar, didn't want to say a word. His boss, Voldemort, was already in his arms, and he had just been given some criticism for not killing Ron. Who knew how he would be tortured later? He didn't dare to argue with Ron now.

Immediately, he cast a Tongue-Tying Curse, and then, like he had bound Harry, he bound Ron as well.

After doing all this, Peter ignored the two of them. He gently placed the package in his arms on the ground and began to work on Voldemort's resurrection.

Harry, whose mouth was blocked, couldn't understand the development of the situation. Whose side was Ron on?

He was the one who let Peter go in the first place, and now he had come to this ghostly place with him. Logically speaking, Ron was the most likely to harm him.

Maybe he colluded with Peter, allowing Peter to come to Hogwarts and throw the parchment with his name on it into the Goblet of Fire, which led to him being chosen, and then set up all this.

But Ron's performance just now didn't seem like the culprit!

Just as Harry was racking his brains to figure out if something had gone wrong, a sound from the side attracted his attention.

It turned out that Peter was pushing a stone cauldron towards him. The cauldron seemed to be filled with water, and Harry had heard the splashing sound when it was pushed.

Moreover, this cauldron was larger than any cauldron Harry had ever used. It would even be fine to take a bath in it.

At the same time, the things in the package that Peter had just placed on the ground also became active, as if they wanted to break free.

Seeing this, Peter didn't dare to neglect it. He busied himself with tapping and drawing at the bottom of the cauldron with his wand, and suddenly crackling flames sprang up under the cauldron.

Harry and Ron could only watch all this helplessly.

Before long, the liquid in the cauldron had already begun to boil, and sparks were shooting out, as if it were burning.

The steam became thicker and thicker, and Peter's figure, tending to the flames, became blurred.

Inside the huge stone cauldron, the entire surface of the water was sparkling with sparks, as if it were covered with diamonds.

Seeing this scene, the package moved even more urgently.

Harry heard that sharp, cold voice again.

"Hurry!"

Hurry what?

Harry looked at this scene somewhat blankly. What was going to happen?

He said he wanted to kill someone at the beginning, so why didn't Peter do it?

"It's ready, Master."

Peter didn't dare to neglect it and quickly replied.

"Now…"

The cold voice said.

Master! He hadn't paid attention just now, but now that he thought about it, who was Peter, the Death Eater's, master? Besides Voldemort, who else was the master of the Death Eaters?

Peter, who betrayed his parents, and Voldemort, who killed his parents, were all here now.

But he was powerless.

No, he couldn't even protect his own life.

Although Voldemort couldn't harm him because of the spell his mother had cast on him, Peter could.

Just when Harry thought Peter would attack him, he directly skipped over him and came to the package, that is, to his master Voldemort.

As Peter opened the coat that wrapped him, Harry finally saw Voldemort's true face, disgusting, so disgusting that he didn't know how to describe it.

His appearance was like a shriveled baby, without hair, covered in scales, his skin dark and red, like injured flesh. His arms and legs were thin and soft, and his face was a flat snake face, with no nose, only two holes, and a pair of glittering red eyes above them.

However, if you looked closely, you could really see a bit of the Voldemort he had seen in the Chamber of Secrets.

Moreover, the current Voldemort seemed to have no ability to take care of himself at all. He raised his thin arms and hugged Peter's neck.

But Peter's next move made Harry a little confused, and then immediately excited.

He put Voldemort into the boiling cauldron, and with a hiss, Voldemort sank down.

Harry heard the soft thud of his body hitting the bottom of the cauldron.

Now, Harry had only one thought: drown him, scald him to death.

Although he didn't know why Peter was doing this, Harry really hoped so.

But just then, Peter acted again. His voice trembled, as if he was so frightened that he was mentally deranged.

He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and said to the night sky: "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, shall make your son rise again."

The grave under his feet suddenly cracked open, and Harry watched in horror as a small tuft of bones responded to Peter's call and rose into the air, gently falling into the cauldron.

The diamond-like surface of the liquid shattered, hissing and sputtering sparks, and the liquid turned a bright blue.

After doing all this, he saw Peter pull out a long, thin, silver-shining dagger from his cloak.

His voice suddenly became a sob of extreme terror: "Servant—of—flesh—willingly—given, shall—make—your master—rise again."

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

As the severed hand fell into the cauldron, the potion turned fiery red.

At the same time, based on Peter's words, Harry came to a surprising conclusion: he was going to resurrect Voldemort.

Looking at the previous events, it's either rebirth or resurrection.

Having read many records in the past and knowing the horror of dark magic, Harry had already realized that he might end up being the sacrifice.

Thinking of this, Harry began to struggle violently. He would rather die than be a sacrifice to resurrect Voldemort.

Just then, Peter walked up to him, his face full of pain.

He raised the gleaming silver dagger.

"Blood of the foe… forcibly given… will revive… your enemy."

Harry had no way to stop it. He was tied too tightly, and no matter how he struggled, it was useless.

He could only watch as Peter trembled, holding the silver dagger and reaching towards him. The sharp tip of the dagger pierced his arm, and blood flowed down his torn sleeve.

Forcing himself to endure the pain, Peter shakily took out a small glass bottle from his pocket and placed it next to Harry's wound, allowing a small amount of blood to flow into the bottle.

Wasn't he supposed to be the sacrifice?

But Peter didn't pay any attention to Harry's thoughts. He took his blood and staggered towards the cauldron, pouring it in.

The liquid in the cauldron immediately turned into a dazzling white.

Having completed his task, Peter knelt beside the cauldron, his body slumped to the ground, clutching his bleeding stump of an arm, panting and sobbing.

He didn't know what Voldemort would do to him later.

Was everything he had done really right?

But he already had no turning back.

Harry stared wide-eyed at the huge stone cauldron, constantly praying in his heart, hoping that Voldemort had drowned and that it would fail, that it must not succeed.

In Harry's prayer, the cauldron was about to boil, and diamond-like sparks splashed outwards, so bright and dazzling that everything around it turned into the color of black velvet.

Suddenly, the sparks on the cauldron went out, and a cloud of white steam rose from the cauldron, obscuring everything in front of him.

Harry, who could only see a vast expanse of white mist, felt his heart in his throat, constantly shouting in his heart that it must not succeed… he drowned… please… please let him die!

But Harry's prayer was destined to fail, because he saw a man slowly rising from the huge cauldron, a black figure, tall and thin, like a skeleton.

Voldemort was resurrected!

"Give me my robes."

Hearing this cold, sharp voice, Peter sobbed and groaned, still protecting his stump of an arm, and hurriedly grabbed the black robe from the ground, stood up, and put it over his master's head with one hand.

After putting on the wizard's robe, Voldemort couldn't wait to examine his body, his chest, arms, and face, and every time he touched a spot, his red eyes would brighten.

This was the feeling, a real body, and even more powerful than before.

On his already ugly and deformed face, there was now a look of madness.

Balrog, I look forward to our next meeting, that day is not far away.

Then he took two steps forward and came to Harry, this was his last Horcrux!

Harry saw the face that had often appeared in his nightmares for the past three years, paler than a skeleton, with two large red eyes and a flat nose like a snake's nose, with two thin slits for nostrils.

It was him, absolutely right, the same as he had seen three years ago.

After looking around Harry, Voldemort inserted his unusually long fingers into a very deep pocket and pulled out a wand.

He gently stroked the wand again, then raised it and pointed it at Peter, lifting him from the ground and throwing him onto the tombstone where Harry was tied.

Peter fell beside the tombstone, slumped there crying, the robe wrapped around his stump of an arm already soaked with blood.

Voldemort turned his bright red eyes to Harry, and let out a cold and sharp sneer.

"Master, Master… you promised… you promised…"

Peter looked at Voldemort with some fear and choked.

He had long known that Voldemort was a lunatic, and he had just disobeyed his orders. Now, he was afraid that…

Peter didn't dare to think about it anymore, he only hoped that he could forgive him this time, considering that he had contributed greatly to his resurrection…

"Yes, I promised you, but why didn't you want to listen to me!"

Voldemort murmured to himself, absolute loyalty is never absolute.

If you can disobey my orders once, there will be more times later.

Besides, now that I'm resurrected, what use do I have for him?

Most importantly, I never intended to let him go!

Whether it was Peter, or the other two Death Eaters who witnessed my deal with the Balrog here last time.

How could the strongest Dark Lord be coerced by others!

Right!

"Master, Master, listen to me…"

Peter knelt down directly, constantly saying, and even wanted to kiss Voldemort's feet. He already knew Voldemort's plan…

"Avada Kedavra!"

A strong green light illuminated the dim graveyard, he looked at the scene in front of him with some horror.