Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Peter

Chapter 191 Two Voldemort Resurrections

Snape obediently backed away from the cauldron and sat down exhaustedly leaning against a tombstone next to Peter, blood dripping slowly from the tip of his right finger.Even though he was the person—or rather, the creature—who framed Peter, Peter still couldn't help but sigh over his tragic fate.

Before Peter had time to think about how Voldemort created such an infernal corpse that was so close to a normal person, Quirrell lifted Voldemort's swaddling clothes, revealing slimy, baby-like ugly things inside.

It has no hair, and it seems to have scales on its body. Its skin is dark and red, like wounded tender flesh.Its arms and legs were thin and limp, and its face--no living child had such a face--was that of a flat snake with sparkling red eyes.

If Peter could still speak, he would have ridiculed the Dark Lord's embarrassed and fragile appearance loudly. Voldemort was obviously completely helpless. He raised his thin arms and wrapped them around the neck of his loyal servant.

Quirrell's pale, sweaty face was full of fear, and he held Voldemort tremblingly to the edge of the cauldron, and for a moment, sparks dancing on the surface of the potion illuminated the evil, ugly flat face.Peter rolled his eyes, trying to express his contempt and disgust, while Harry's bound feet were shaking beside him.

Quirrell put Voldemort into the cauldron, and with a hiss, the limp baby sank.Quirrell raised his wand, closed his eyes, and said to the night sky: "The bones of the father, donated unintentionally, can make your son reborn!"

The grave beneath Harry's feet cracked open, and a small cloud of dust rose into the air at the beckoning, and fell gently into the cauldron. blue.

Harry stared at the scene with wide-eyed horror, and Peter was only sorry for poor old Tom Riddle.

Quirrell pulled out a long, thin, shiny silver dagger from his waist, and his voice was full of tears, "Your servant's flesh, donated voluntarily, can bring your master back to life!"

He held the knife in his left hand, rolled up his right sleeve, and cut a deep cut under his elbow, and the blood flowed into the cauldron. At this moment, he was too painful to let go.

After sobbing in pain for a few seconds, Quirrell closed his eyes and pulled the dagger towards his wrist. A scream pierced the night air, followed by a sickening snap. Harry hurriedly closed his eyes, but Peter just He watched indifferently as the piece of meat sank to the bottom of the crucible, turning the potion blood red and emitting bursts of intense light.

Quirrell gasped and sobbed in pain, his right arm exposed to the bones was useless, he walked crookedly in front of Peter, his facial features writhed and gathered together, "Evil—the enemy's Blood...forced to give, will bring your enemies...to life."

With his left hand, he took out a small glass vial from inside his robe, and placed it under the wound Snape bit on Peter's left arm, a small amount of blood flowed into the vial.He staggered to the cauldron with Peter's blood and poured it in, and the liquid in the cauldron instantly turned blinding white.

Quirrell finally completed the task. He knelt down beside the cauldron, leaned over, and collapsed on the ground. He lifted his bloody right arm with his left hand, and tried to stretch the fingers of his right hand.

The cauldron was about to boil, and diamond-like sparks flew in all directions, so bright and dazzling that everything around it turned the color of black velvet.

Harry stared wide-eyed at the cauldron, writhing and struggling on top of the tombstone, but he was bound too tightly.Snape huddled motionless in the shadows, his black eyes half-open, reflecting the sparks from the cauldron, and Peter couldn't tell if he - or rather, it - was still awake.

Suddenly, the spark on the crucible went out.A puff of white steam rose from the cauldron, covering everything in front of Peter. Peter could only hear the muffled sound of Harry's back hitting the tombstone, and Quirrell's painful crying.

Then, through the white fog in front of his eyes, Peter saw a man's figure slowly rising from the cauldron, tall and thin, like a skeleton. "Dress me," said the cold, shrill voice from behind the steam.

Quirrell rose hastily from the ground, grabbed the bundled black robe, and placed it awkwardly with one hand over his master's head.

Voldemort stepped out of the cauldron, and Peter recognized the familiar and terrifying face—his skin was paler than a skeleton, his scarlet snake eyes gleamed, his nose was flat like a snake's, and his nostrils were two Slits.

Peter recalled Firenze the Centaur's prophecy: "The Dark Lord is about to return, and his servants have been chained for 19 years, and now they are about to break the chains."

In the end, Voldemort was resurrected.

Voldemort inspected his body narcissistically. He stroked his chest, arms, and face with his slender and pale fingers. He was ecstatic and stretched his fingers, but he didn't care at all about the man on the ground who had become unable to use his fingers in order to revive him. Telescoping servant.

"Master..." Quirrell choked up, "Master, you promised...you promised..."

"Yes," whispered Voldemort, "I will honor you, as I do to my faithful servants." His red eyes flicked across Peter, and a wicked smile twisted from his lipless mouth.

Quirrell squeezed out a smile that was uglier than crying, knelt up respectfully, and stretched out his disabled right arm, "Thank you, master! Thank you!"

"Not this one." Voldemort said lazily, he bent down, pulled Quirrell's left arm, pointed at it with his wand, and muttered.

Quirrell's shrill screams resounded through the cemetery. Ten seconds later, when his voice became hoarse, Voldemort stopped in satisfaction. It turned out that he had branded a bright red tattoo on the skin of Quirrell's left arm. , that is the Dark Mark.

"Quellnus Quirrell, you are now an honorable Death Eater," said Voldemort softly.

Although Quirrell was trembling with pain, he still tried his best to express his gratitude, "Thank you, my master...but, please...my right arm..."

But Voldemort just pressed his long, pale forefinger on Quirrell's arm, paying no heed to another wail from Quirrell, and when he took his finger away, the Dark Mark had turned black.

Voldemort straightened up, abandoned Quirrell, and walked slowly in front of Peter, "Wormtail, can you still feel my call?" As he said, he cruelly opened the wound Peter had been bitten by Snape, and looked at it. Peter's left arm, "Sure enough, you managed to remove the Dark Mark... Your magical attainments have always exceeded my expectations."

Voldemort returned to the cauldron, tapped it with his wand, and with a crash, the ugly, deformed baby floated out of the potion.

"Quirrell, in recognition of your loyalty, I will allow you to enjoy this supreme honor." His voice was dangerous, evil, and he began to whisper an out-of-tuned hoarse spell over the deformed baby's head, and for a moment Then, with a jerk of his wand upward, the baby shuffled.

Voldemort then took a small vial of potion from his robes and dropped a drop into the baby's mouth, which immediately stopped the chouchu and strengthened its limbs.Peter noticed that Snape lifted his head slightly.

"Come on, Quirrell." Voldemort stretched out his big pale hand, and gently pulled Quirrell up. Quirrell stood up gratefully, stretched out his right arm, and eagerly looked at the potion in Voldemort's hand, waiting for the supreme reward. Voldemort flicked his wand casually—

"Avada Kedavra!"

A blinding green light flashed, and Quelnas Quirrell fell to the ground like a rag. At the same time, the deformed baby in the cauldron stood up. It solemnly stepped out of the cauldron and took Quirrell's Wand, its snake eyes are exactly the same as Voldemort's.

Peter knew that Voldemort's last Horcrux was finally completed, and Quirrell was its sacrifice.

(End of this chapter)