Harry Potter and the Old Ones

When Harry was dragged by the hurricane to the center of the maze, what he saw was this scene——

Tiera stood there, holding the bone sword pierced into the ground in his right hand, and holding a huge horn in his left hand. The simple competition uniform on his body had been stained brown by blood, and there was a deep visible bone on his right rib. The wound, the light of the Triwizard Trophy emanated from his back, like a pair of wings.

Tiera just stood there, looking at Harry with a smile, just looking at Harry with a smile.

The fierce hurricane pushed Harry in front of Tiera.

Tiera let go of the sword in her right hand, dropped the horn in her left hand, and took Harry's hand.

"Tiera, are you?" Harry looked at the coagulated blood on Tiera's chest in a panic, and asked anxiously and worriedly, "are you injured?"

"It's okay, it's just a minor injury." Tiera said with a smile——

His smile was hidden in the brilliance of the trophy, his smile was hidden in the shadow of glory. He just smiled and took Harry's hand with a smile——

"Let's go, Harry, let's go." Tiera's voice was light and unruffled, "Come with me, Harry, come with me, hold the trophy with me."

"This is our glory, this is the glory that truly belongs to the two of us. Think about it, Harry, think about it, this is the glory that belongs to Hogwarts and double to Gryffindor."

"Double glory?" Harry looked at Tiera in a daze, at his face stained with dried blood, and at his eyes with a magical light.

"Okay!" Harry laughed happily. Harry said with a happy smile and held Tiera's hand tightly. "Okay! Double glory! Come on, Tiera, let's go get a pair of Double the honor!”

They each raised their hands above the gleaming handle of the trophy.

"Can you count to three?" Harry asked happily in a brisk tone, "One - two - three -"

He and Tiera grabbed one handle of the trophy at the same time.

Harry suddenly felt as if he was being pulled behind his navel——

His legs left the ground, but he couldn't loosen his grip on the Triwizard Cup, and it dragged him forward amid the howling wind and swirling colors, Tiera beside him.

Harry felt his feet hit the ground. His injured leg went weak and he fell to the ground. His hand finally let go of the Triwizard Cup.

He looked up and found darkness all around him.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, instinctively looking at Tiera, but Harry found that -

Tiera had already stood up, as straight as a piece of wood, standing there stiffly, the expression on his face disappeared——

The sparkle in his eyes also disappeared.

Tiera's eyes were dull and dull, staring straight ahead.

It was as if all the spiritual energy in Tiera's body disappeared in an instant.

Harry shook Tiera while looking around——

This place is completely outside the boundaries of Hogwarts. They have obviously flown for several miles——

Perhaps hundreds of miles, for not even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone.

They were standing in a dark, overgrown churchyard. They could see the dark outline of a small church behind a tall yew to the right. To the left was a hill. Harry could make out a fine old house on the hillside. .

"I've been here!" Harry's breathing suddenly became rapid, "I've been here! Tiera! Come back to the trophy, quickly!"

Harry tried as hard as he could in his life to drag Tiera over and run over, but——

Tiera remained motionless, still standing where she was.

Suddenly, Harry's scar hurt sharply. He had never felt such severe pain in his life.

Harry's wand fell to the ground. He covered his face with his hands, bent his legs and fell to the ground. He couldn't see anything in front of him. His head felt like it was about to explode, as if someone had taken a soldering iron and wanted to split his head open.

Then, in the darkness, a figure walked towards them step by step between the tombs. Harry couldn't see the man's face clearly, but judging from his gait and the posture of his arms, he seemed to be holding something. He is short in stature and wears a hooded cloak that hides his face. Taking a few steps closer - the distance between them was shrinking, and Harry could see that the man was holding something that looked like a baby -

Or just a bag of clothes?

"Use another Imperius Curse on that Mudblood!" Harry heard someone commanding loudly and coldly far above his head.

"Out-of-body experience!"

——So that’s it, that’s it.

In the severe pain, Harry thought that it turned out that Tiera was under the Imperius Curse.

After reciting this spell, the short man in the cloak had put down his baggage, lit his wand, and was dragging Harry towards the marble tombstone. Harry saw a name in the flickering light of his wand before he was pushed over and his back hit the tombstone.

Tom Riddle

The man in the cloak waved his wand and used magic to conjure ropes to tie Harry tightly to the tombstone, one after another from his neck to his ankles.

Harry heard rapid, light breathing coming from inside the hood.

He struggled hard and the man hit him——

A finger was missing from the hand that hit him. Harry knew who was under the hood, it was Wormtail.

"It's you!" Harry shouted in surprise and anger.

But Wormtail didn't answer.

He had finished tying the rope and was busy checking whether it was tight.

His fingers trembled uncontrollably as he fumbled with the knots. After making sure that Harry was tied tightly and unable to move, Wormtail took out a piece of black stuff from his cloak and stuffed it roughly. Into Harry's mouth.

Then, without another word, he hurried away, leaving Harry speechless and unable to see where Wormtail had gone. He couldn't turn his head and look behind the tombstone, he could only see the scene directly in front of him——

But Harry tried hard to turn his head away, tried hard to squirm his tightly tied body, tried hard to move to the side——

Because Tiera is there, because Tiera is standing next to the tombstone where Harry is tied -

Harry tried hard to get closer to Tiera, and Harry tried hard to get closer to Tiera.

He must be very scared now——

Harry thought, Tiera must be very scared.

Harry was so anxious that he almost cried.

But out of sight of Harry, in the shadow of the tombstone, Tiera was no longer standing so straight, and was looking at everything happening in the center of the cemetery with great interest.

Just then, Harry heard a sound near his feet. Looking down, he saw a big snake snaking on the grass, circling around his tombstone.

Wormtail's breathing began again, as if he was pushing something heavy. Then he came into Harry's sight and pushed a stone cauldron beneath the tomb.

The crucible seemed to be filled with water——

Harry heard a splash. This cauldron was larger than any that Harry had ever used, and could accommodate an adult in it.

The things in the bundle on the ground moved more vigorously, as if they were trying to break free. Wormtail was busy scratching at the bottom of the cauldron with his wand. Suddenly a crackling flame burst out from under the crucible.

The big snake swam into the darkness.

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 Wormtail's figure tending the flames became blurred.

The bundle moved more quickly, and Harry heard the sharp, cold voice again.

"quick!"

Now the whole water was sparkling with sparks, as if studded with diamonds.

"It's ready, Master."

"Now..." said the cold voice.

Wormtail tore open the bundle on the floor to reveal what was inside.

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

It was as if Wormtail had flipped open a rock to reveal a slimy, eyeless ugliness—

No, it's more terrible than this, a hundred times more terrible. The thing Wormtail carried looked like a curled-up baby, but Harry had never seen anything less baby-like. It had no hair, and seemed to have scales on its body. Its skin was dark and red, like injured tender meat. Its arms and legs were thin and soft, its face—

No living child has such a face—

It was a flat snake face with a pair of sparkling red eyes.

The thing looked completely unable to take care of itself. It raised its thin arms and hugged Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail held it in his hands. At this moment Wormtail's hood fell off, and Harry saw an expression of disgust on his pale and weak face in the firelight.

Wormtail held the thing to the edge of the cauldron, and for a moment Harry saw the dancing water on the surface of the potion illuminating the evil flat face. Wormtail put the thing into the cauldron, and with a hiss it sank.

Harry heard the soft sound of its limp body hitting the bottom of the cauldron.

Let it drown, Harry thought, his scar burning almost unbearably, please... let it drown...

Wormtail was speaking, his voice extremely calm.

He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and said to the night sky: "My father's bones, inadvertently donated, can regenerate your son!"

The writing is straight and the pronunciation is clear.

The grave opened beneath Harry's feet, and Harry watched with horror as a small plume of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's call and fell gently into the cauldron. The diamond-like surface of the liquid burst, hissing, sparks flying, and the liquid turned a bright red-blue color that was clearly poisonous at a glance.

Wormtail pulled out a long, thin, shining silver dagger from his cloak.

“The flesh and blood of your servant, given voluntarily, may restore your master to life.”

He stretched out his right hand——

It's the hand missing one finger, and it seems to be wearing a glove.

At this time, Harry seemed to see a red light running down Peter Pettigrew's arm and onto his hand.

Then Peter Pettigrew grasped the dagger tightly with his left hand and swung it towards his right hand.

Harry only realized what Wormtail was going to do at the last second. Only then did Harry suddenly recall the prophecy that Tiera had inadvertently revealed in her third-year Defense Against the Dark Arts class——

He closed his eyes tightly, but he couldn't stop the scream that penetrated the night sky and penetrated Harry's body, as if he had been stabbed by a dagger.

Harry heard something hit the ground, heard Wormtail's pained gasp, and then with a sickening thud something was thrown into the cauldron.

Harry didn't want to look...but the potion turned fiery red, and bright light shone into Harry's closed eyes...

Wormtail was gasping and moaning in pain. When the painful breath hit his face, Harry realized that Wormtail had arrived in front of him.

"Hate, the blood of your enemy... forced to give... can bring your enemy... back to life."

Harry couldn't stop it, he was tied too tightly... He struggled desperately to break free from the ropes that bound him. Through the slits of his eyes, he saw the silver dagger trembling in Wormtail's one hand.

He felt the tip of the dagger pierce into his arm, and blood dripped down the torn sleeve of his robe.

Wormtail, who was still panting in pain, took out a trembling glass bottle from his pocket and placed it next to Harry's wound. A small amount 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. Wormtail completed his task and knelt down next to the crucible. His body tilted and he collapsed on the ground, holding his bleeding broken arm, gasping and sobbing.

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.

I wish it had drowned, Harry thought, but I wish it hadn't...

Suddenly, the spark on the crucible went out. A stream of white steam rose from the cauldron, obscuring everything in front of Harry. He couldn't see Wormtail, only a white mist... It must have failed... It drowned... Please... Please let it die...

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.

"Get me dressed," the cold, shrill voice said from behind the steam.

Wormtail sobbed and groaned, still protecting his residual arm, and hurriedly grabbed the black robe that wrapped the bundle from the ground, stood up, and pulled it over his master's head with one hand.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron and stared at Harry... Harry saw the face that had often appeared in his nightmares for the past three years. It was paler than a skeleton, with two big red eyes and a nose as flat as a snake's. The nostrils are two thin slits...

Voldemort is resurrected.

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