After hearing Draco's thoughts, everyone couldn't sit still.

"Don't be so nervous, our brave and fearless savior." Voldemort said, his gloomy tone with a ending quite similar to that of Lucius and Draco.

This unique aristocratic accent really sounds very charming.

Harry always found the long drawl that Draco occasionally let slip when he spoke quite pleasant to his ears.

It is an invisible charm that is hard to resist, and it can even be said to be an unconscious seduction.

However, Voldemort's voice was completely different from Draco's.

That's even more harsh and unpleasant than scratching fingernails on glass!

At this moment, Voldemort spoke so pretentiously that every word he said was like a sharp thorn, piercing deeply into Harry's ears, making him feel extremely uncomfortable and miserable.

Faced with Voldemort's words, Harry chose to remain silent.

In Voldemort's eyes, Harry's silence was undoubtedly a deep fear.

Seeing this scene, Voldemort's mouth involuntarily grinned, revealing a hideous and terrifying smile.

"Don't worry, my dear Harry Potter, I won't do anything to you easily. At least... not now."

As Voldemort finished speaking, he gave a slight look and a mysterious man in a black robe beside him immediately stepped back respectfully.

Not long after, an extremely huge crucible slowly floated over, and finally stopped steadily behind Voldemort, and was carefully sent to the center of the venue.

The man in black robes who was hugging Voldemort tightly could not suppress his inner excitement, so that his body, which was already trembling slightly with excitement, began to tremble even more violently.

But despite this, his hands that were holding Voldemort tightly were as firm as an iron clamp, without any shaking.

On the other side of the water curtain, the ominous premonition in everyone's heart became stronger and stronger, as if a thick dark cloud was weighing heavily on their hearts.

However, faced with the strange scene before them, they were at a loss and had no idea what they could do to change the situation.

So they could only stand there and watch the situation develop in an unpredictable direction. The feeling of powerlessness made everyone feel extremely heavy and depressed.

Voldemort casually raised his hand, which was like a dry branch and looked like it would break at any moment, and waved it gently.

With this simple action, Harry's body instantly became stiff as stone. He was unable to move as if he was under a spell of immobilization and was firmly bound to the spot.

"Bella." Voldemort called casually.

After hearing Voldemort's voice, the black-robed figure holding him, Bellatrix, immediately responded respectfully, "Yes! Master!"

She suddenly pulled down the hood on her head, and her face, which was almost crazy due to extreme excitement, was exposed to everyone without reservation.

Bellatrix quickly pulled out a wand from under her voluminous black robes, and a strange light flashed in her eyes - a complex emotion of madness and admiration intertwined.

She walked with slow and rhythmic steps, pacing around the crucible like a cheetah on the hunt.

At the same time, her lips kept moving and she was muttering something.

With every mysterious spell she recited, a slight fluctuation would appear in the air.

These seemingly invisible fluctuations were like real shackles, constantly piling up on Harry, making his original restraints even heavier and tighter.

Almost at the same time, a ball of green flame suddenly rose from under the crucible.

The flame flickered, emitting a creepy aura.

The unknown liquid in the crucible was also affected by the flames, and gradually began to boil and churn, bubbling. The whole scene looked extremely eerie and terrifying.

"Father's bones..." Bella murmured to herself. One of the black-robed men who were standing motionless like the background walked out, holding a pale leg bone respectfully, and carefully threw it into the crucible that emitted a strange smell.

"Servant's flesh..." Bella waved her wand without hesitation, and a sharp cutting spell instantly passed through the air, and then she actually cut off her own palm with her own hands.

Blood gushed out and splashed on the ground, forming shocking blood flowers.

However, Bella's eyes were shining with extreme excitement, as if this was not self-harm, but a supreme honor.

The master once intended to use the flesh and blood of that despicable Pettigrew to complete this ritual, which is simply a blasphemy to the master!

In Bella's heart, no one can compare to her respect and love for her master!

Only she is qualified to offer her most precious flesh and blood for the resurrection of her master!

"The blood of my enemy!..." Bella's gaze, full of disgust and hatred, finally fixed on Harry.

She walked straight towards Harry with firm and resolute steps, the dagger in her hand flashed coldly, and she mercilessly cut a deep gash on Harry's arm.

Blood gurgled out, Bella quickly picked up a small bottle, caught Harry's blood, and then threw the bottle into the crucible like throwing away garbage.

After doing all this, Bella no longer paid any attention to Harry.

Although deep down she longed to torture Harry Potter to death, her great master had ordered that Harry's life be spared.

Bella would never dare to disobey her master's orders.

Harry stood there, silently rolling his eyes in his heart.

But he knew very well that he couldn't act rashly at this moment, so he pretended to be furious on the surface.

Voldemort had always believed that using Harry's blood would be more effective than using anyone else's.

Because in his opinion, this would not only make him stronger, but also allow him to possess the mysterious and powerful protective power that Lily Evans displayed when she risked her life to protect her son.

However, Voldemort was completely unaware that this seemingly perfect plan contained a fatal flaw - it would render Voldemort's dreaded Killing Curse completely ineffective against Harry!

Voldemort, unaware of the truth, seemed to have a strange obsession with Harry and regarded him as his lifelong enemy.

After all, for this notorious Dark Lord with so many enemies, it is extremely difficult to find a way to truly make himself invincible.

Even though Pettigrew had persuaded him that he didn't have to use Harry's blood, Voldemort still ignored it.

Voldemort seemed to have made up his mind long ago that no matter how difficult and dangerous the process of obtaining Harry's blood was, he would never give up easily.

Voldemort regarded the failure more than ten years ago as a lifelong shame, and he longed to wash away this shame!

Voldemort had insisted on choosing the graveyard at Little Hangleton as the site for his crucial resurrection ceremony.

Perhaps in his heart, only this land filled with the breath of death and gloomy atmosphere can give him the dark energy needed for rebirth.

It has to be said that Voldemort's emphasis on this ceremony is beyond imagination.

From the careful selection of the venue to the strict control of every detail, everything demonstrates his strong sense of ritual deep in his heart.

But it was this overly elaborate sense of ritual that made Harry, who was familiar with the development of the entire story, feel a little amused.

Harry stood there quietly, staring with a gloomy face as Bella carefully placed Voldemort into the mysterious crucible.

His eyes were as cold as ice, as if what was happening before him had nothing to do with him.

His mind was working rapidly, recalling all the previous plans 1234.

Suddenly, a slight tingling sensation came from my arm.

Harry looked down and saw that the horrific wound had actually begun to heal at a speed visible to the naked eye. The blood gradually coagulated and clung to the wound, but due to the angle, no one noticed this subtle change.

And all this is thanks to Draco's secret help.

Even though he knew that all of this was just a carefully choreographed play, Draco couldn't remain indifferent when he saw Harry being hurt.

An indescribable violent emotion rose up in his heart, like a burning flame, instantly dyeing his usually calm and deep eyes red.

In a corner where no one noticed, a barely perceptible red light flickered quietly in Draco's gray-blue eyes.

At the same time, Harry, who had been paying close attention to the movements around him, keenly caught the fleeting magical fluctuation.

His eyes lit up slightly, and an irrepressible joy suddenly surged in his heart.

Hey~Draco~

Thinking of this, the corners of Harry's mouth rose involuntarily, and a happy smile appeared on his face.

I can only say that Harry is a love-brained person and he completely forgot the occasion.

However, he soon realized that he couldn't show it too obviously, so he took a deep breath, forced himself to suppress the joy in his heart, and tried to restore himself to his previous indifferent appearance.

Fortunately, everyone's attention was focused on the crucible at this moment, and no one noticed the change in his expression.

Not to mention the water curtain, because of the angle, it was impossible to see the sweetness in Harry's heart and eyes at this moment.

At this moment, the crucible began to roll violently without any warning, and a powerful and mysterious force was raging inside.

Along with this surging tumbling, the originally calm liquid in the crucible suddenly underwent an astonishing change - it all turned into a deep, inky black color, which was terrifying.

However, this is just the beginning.

In an instant, a loud "bang" sounded suddenly, and the entire crucible exploded, with countless fragments flying everywhere.

But what was surprising and disturbing was that the black liquid did not scatter, but quickly condensed together to form a huge object.

Then, the mass began to slowly deform, gradually taking on the outline of a curled up human figure.

As time went by, the rich black color gradually faded like the tide, and finally disappeared completely.

Instead, a layer of transparent substance clearly reveals the figure wrapped inside.

The figure was as pale as a ghost, and his body was trembling slightly, as if he was slowly waking up from a deep sleep.

Finally, Voldemort slowly stood up.

His already eerie face, after going through this thrilling resurrection ceremony, looked even paler than paper, with no trace of blood at all.

He stretched his limbs slightly, his movements somewhat stiffly, as if he was trying to readjust to this newly acquired body.

At the same time, a gray cloak quietly appeared on his body.

It fits Voldemort's body tightly. After all, Voldemort doesn't have a habit of running naked, and he is not that unsophisticated.

At this moment, Voldemort had his back to Harry and also to the water curtain.

Despite this, the strong sense of oppression emanating from him penetrated the barriers of space like a substance and reached the hearts of everyone on the other side of the water curtain.

For a moment, the entire scene fell into deathly silence, and even the sound of a needle dropping to the ground could be heard clearly.

Everyone held their breath, their hearts involuntarily rising to their throats, and they were extremely nervous.

Even Ron and the others who were watching with some ease at first could not help but frown at this moment.

They could clearly feel that the oppressive feeling brought by the Voldemort in front of them was far greater than that of the Voldemort in the previous world.

The feeling was too strong for them to ignore.

In this solemn atmosphere, only Hermione, who knew the inside story, remained calm and composed. There was no ripple on her face, as if she had already anticipated everything that happened before her.

Voldemort slowly turned his body, and his red eyes, like burning flames, scanned everything around him.

Anyone who is looked at by these eyes will tremble involuntarily, as if the most hidden fear deep in their soul is instantly ignited.

Wherever he looked, the black-robed men who were standing there all knelt on their knees like a flock of frightened sheep, and then prostrated their entire bodies on the cold and hard ground.

They didn't dare to look up, and even their breathing became cautious, for fear of causing the slightest dissatisfaction of the dark monarch.

Finally, Voldemort's terrifying gaze rested on Harry.

He slowly turned his head, and the snake face that once existed only in legends and nightmares appeared in full view of everyone.

The face was covered with hideous and twisted lines, and the skin was a strange grayish-white color, like a corpse.

The most terrifying thing is those eyes, which are as deep as the bottomless abyss. The evil and cruelty revealed in them are enough to make anyone lose the courage to resist in an instant.

At this moment, this face, which was more frightening than that of a baby in swaddling clothes, was displayed unreservedly to everyone on the other side of the water curtain.

Everyone present was terrified, and some even fainted on the spot due to excessive fear.