Night falls. Dots of stars are like galaxies across the sky.
Harry stood in a dark, overgrown graveyard, looking around in panic, still trying to figure out what was happening to him.
The screen goes back to a few hours ago.
Harry had just seen the red sparks announcing the two female warriors' withdrawal from the competition. He gritted his teeth and pushed hard into the depths of the maze - now, his probability of winning the championship has increased to 50%. He must be racing against time, maybe he can really win the championship.
He first encountered a Dementor, and then he used the Patronus Charm to repel it, only to discover that it was actually a Boggart, and then he used "Funny" to get rid of the Boggart. Then he passed through a golden mist that could turn the world upside down, and answered the riddle of a sphinx correctly, finally allowing him to see the end point from a distance.
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 in the maze. Out of a Gryffindor's naturally overactive curiosity, he walked over, picked up the book, and opened it to read——
It was empty. He flipped through several pages, but didn't see a word or a drop of ink. He frowned and became suspicious.
The last time I saw such an empty book was Tom Riddle's diary. That experience gave him quite bad memories.
He was about to put the book back when he discovered that on the last page, there was a bookmark made like a feather. It was a very beautiful pink-blue feather. He couldn't recognize the feather of any bird at all, but Subconsciously I thought it was very beautiful. He couldn't help but want to take this feather as his own. Anyway, the things in the maze were ownerless things, so he couldn't be considered stealing.
The moment he touched the feather, he only heard a "pop" sound, and the next second he appeared in this strange place.
Following his gaze, he could see the dark outline of a small church behind a tall yew tree on the right. On the left is a hill. Harry could make out a fine old house on the hillside.
He looked at the cemetery. The surroundings were eerie and silent. He had a strange feeling, as if someone was watching him from a dark place. He took out his wand and carefully looked around.
In the darkness, a figure walked toward him step by step among the graves. Although the man's face could not be seen clearly, judging from his gait and arm posture, he seemed to be holding something. He was short in stature and wore a hooded cloak that obscured his face. Taking a few steps closer, as the distance between them continued to shrink, Harry could see that the man was holding something that looked like a baby.
The man stopped in front of a towering marble tombstone, only six feet from Harry. At that moment, Harry looked at the small figure.
Suddenly, Harry's scar hurt sharply. He had never felt such severe pain in his life. The wand slipped to the ground, he covered his face with his hands, bent his legs and fell to the ground. He could not see anything in front of him, and his head felt like it was going to explode.
He heard someone far above his head say loudly and coldly: "Is it him?"
"Yes, I'm sure it's 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 for the ceremony, I can't wait..."
"Detention quickly!" The short man took advantage of the moment when Harry was still suffering from a headache and had no ability to resist. He used magic to conjure a rope to tie Harry up, then dragged Harry towards the marble tombstone, and finally put him Tied to a tombstone.
Harry in this world has 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 didn't answer him, or even glance at Harry. He raised his wand and struggled to push a huge cauldron under the tomb.
The crucible seemed to be filled with water, enough for an adult to sit in it.
"Fire is raging," Peter Pettigrew quickly tapped the bottom of the crucible with his wand, and a crackling flame 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 burning.
"Burn it, my master." Peter Pettigrew said carefully, and now the whole water was flashing with sparks, as if studded with diamonds.
"Huh, pretty good job. How are the people over there..." The things in the bag on the ground moved restlessly, and a cold voice came from there.
"They... they didn't say anything... I think... I think they have other plans..." Peter Pettigrew said carefully.
"Hmph! How can they be so kind? Give us help for no reason?" The cold voice continued: "If it weren't for the ball-escape bird feather they designed, we wouldn't be able to get it so easily. Little Barty himself didn't Having said that, he is not completely sure that the plan can be carried out smoothly and that the boy can touch the Goblet of Fire."
The 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. However, they think that the dodos they call have been hunted to extinction.
In fact, the Ball Escape Bird, like Phoenix and Zuowu, has the ability to travel through space. This is one of the ways the ball escape bird can escape danger.
The Ball Escaper's ability to suddenly disappear and reappear in another place, like Phoenix and Zou Wu, is not affected by the anti-Apparition ban.
Apparently, Harry in the maze was brought to this cemetery by an activated ball escape bird 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?" said the voice, "Then you'd better prove it to me later."
"Worm, Wormtail?" Harry suddenly guessed who the person in front of him was. When he was dreaming at night, he had dreamed of the two people in front of him several times, and Professor Trelawney also dreamed of the two people in front of him during the exam week last semester. Gave him a prophecy that he couldn't let go of.
"You are Wormtail! The traitor who killed my parents! You bastard!" Harry yelled, and then he looked at the baggage, "He, he is Voldemort?"
Snapped! Peter Pettigrew slapped Harry hard across the face, "Boy, how can you call the master's name casually?" Then he used magic to create a piece of cloth and stuffed it into Harry's mouth, and said coldly: " Just stay there quietly!"
After doing all this, Peter Pettigrew opened the bag, revealing Voldemort in a miserable state, and then put him into the cauldron. With a hissing sound, it sank. Harry heard the soft sound of its limp body hitting the bottom of the cauldron.
Then comes the classic process of flesh and blood sacrifice ceremony.
As Peter Pettigrew put the bones of Voldemort's Muggle father, his own wrist, and Harry's blood into the cauldron, the liquid in the cauldron immediately turned a blinding 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.
Harry kept praying, hoping that Voldemort would be drowned in the cauldron, even though he knew how ridiculous this prayer sounded.
Suddenly, the spark on the crucible went out. A stream of white steam rose from the cauldron, obscuring everything in front of Harry.
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.
"Put on my robe," 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.
