HP: Slytherin disguise

"Are you looking for death? Rat!"

Decorah turned around sharply and stared at Peter Wormtail, his eyes became more and more fierce.

What a fool.

trouble making!

Peter shrunk his neck, his face full of fear and malice.

"roll!"

He raised his foot and kicked away the vicious Wormtail.

Decorah came to the crucible, raised his wand and whispered softly: "My father's bones, unintentionally donated, can regenerate your son!"

Under Harry's horrified gaze.

The tomb beneath his feet cracked open, and traces of dust flew out.

Then he fell into the boiling crucible.

The liquid surface burst, making a corrosive hissing sound, and the liquid in the crucible instantly turned into a bright blue, as if it contained poison.

Turning his head, Decorah looked at Wormtail, who had a frightened expression on his face.

"Come here rat! It's your time to show off!"

"Hurry up and stretch your arm over here!"

His tone was cold, and he took out a light dagger from his arms.

His eyes were fixed on Peter.

"No!"

Peter backed away continuously, trembling all over, and his eyes revealed great fear.

"come over!"

Decorah glanced at the blue liquid that had begun to boil, feeling a little anxious.

Perhaps he had made up his mind that even Wormtail Peter would not survive his death.

Harry could sense that something was about to happen, which was why Peter was so resistant.

A hint of luck arises.

If they don't pass, and the liquid boils completely, will this weird ritual-like thing fail?

Harry didn't know why he thought that.

But he felt that if it really boiled over, it would definitely fail.

Just as his heart was racing.

Decorah cursed and directly opened the sleeve of his right arm.

Under Wormtail Peter's fearful eyes, he raised the knife and cut off a large piece of bloody flesh.

Throw it into the crucible.

His right arm was bloody and the bones could already be seen.

In particular, a large piece of meat was missing, which looked hideous and terrifying.

His fingers twitched unconsciously.

Decorah's forehead was dripping with cold sweat, but he still held the wand and endured the pain.

"The flesh of your servant...given voluntarily...will bring about the rebirth of your master!"

"hiss--"

Holding the edge of the crucible with his left hand, Decorah felt a tingling sensation on his back. The dragon seemed to feel something.

Start sucking his blood.

I was afraid that if he died, all his blood would flow out.

The blood seeping out of the wound on his right arm slowed down, and all of it rushed towards the dragon.

Under the double sting, Decorah almost fainted.

The liquid in the crucible turned fiery red, began to bubble and boil again.

He staggered to the side of Harry who was struggling.

Decorah gasped softly and cut Harry's arm open with a dagger, blood oozing out.

Harry opened his eyes wide and stared at the bloody cut on Decorah's arm, where a large piece of flesh was missing and the bones were exposed.

He didn't seem to feel his arm being cut open, but his heart hurt extremely.

Collect Harry's blood in a glass bottle.

Decorah stood up and returned to the crucible with frivolous steps.

“The blood of your enemies, forced to give, can bring your enemies back to life!”

Pour all the blood in the glass bottle into the crucible.

Decorah backed away slowly.

The liquid inside turned into a dazzling white color, illuminating the surrounding area.

Harry was begging with all his heart.

Don't succeed!

Hope that thing drowns in the crucible

He thought of the scene after Voldemort's resurrection.

I thought of the scene where Deco was confronting him with a cold face, and thought of all the possibilities...

It's a pity that none of these can go as he wishes.

As the white mist appeared, a black figure of a man slowly rose from the crucible. He was tall and thin, like a skeleton, and slowly emerged.

"robe."

A cold and sharp voice sounded.

Decorah struggled to pick up the black robe where the bundle was wrapped with her left hand.

Then it was put on Voldemort's head.

Staggered back a few steps.

The three of them just watched a thin man step out of the crucible.

It's Voldemort!

He is resurrected!

The mysterious man who made the magic world fearful and afraid to mention Mingwei is resurrected!

Voldemort raised his slender, pale fingers like a big spider and touched his face, chest, and arms. He was examining his body.

His red eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, with two thin slits like cat eyes.

He raised his hands and moved his body.

Voldemort took out a wand from a deep pocket and stroked it gently.

Turning his head, Voldemort looked at the trembling Wormtail Peter.

A grim smile appeared on his face.

He pointed his wand at Wormtail, picked him up from the ground, and dropped him next to the tied Harry.

Wormtail slumped to the ground and began to cry.

It seems very scary, scary, and desperate...

Turning his head, Voldemort's blood-red eyes looked at Decorah, who stood aside and remained silent.

Feel that cold gaze.

Decorah froze, her heartbeat accelerated, and she took two steps back in panic.

"Master...Master..."

He looked at Voldemort slowly approaching, and his body began to tremble slightly.

"What are you afraid of, my most loyal Death Eater..."

Voldemort leaned over and lifted Decorah's chin with his wand, forcing him to look up and look at him.

His lips trembled, and Decorah's gray-blue eyes revealed panic and unconcealable panic. It seemed that his fear of him had reached its extreme at this moment.

"What a wonderful expression..."

Voldemort withdrew his wand and traced his slender, pale fingertips down his cheek.

Finally, the fingers disappeared into his clothes and landed on his collarbone.

He could clearly feel Decorah's trembling body.

Voldemort laughed, seemingly amused.

"Okay, don't be so afraid..."

"I always punish clearly!"

Standing up straight, Voldemort waved his wand, and black light flashed away.

The cut on Decorah's right arm, which had exposed the bones, was slowly healing.

In the end, only a long scar remained.

If his clothes weren't still stained with blood, it would be as if this horrific wound had never existed.

He took Decorah's left hand and lifted up his sleeve.

Revealing a white arm, there is a bright red skull tattoo on it.

"It's back... they'll all notice... now... we'll see... we'll know..."

Voldemort's slender hand pressed on Decorah's arm.

When he takes it away.

The mark has turned pitch black.

"After sensing it, how many people will have the courage to come...and how many people will be stupid not to come..."

Voldemort murmured softly, the coldness in his eyes almost overflowing.

He turned his head and stared at Harry with cruel eyes.

Harry struggled hard and opened his eyes wide in horror, looking at the resurrected Voldemort.