Hogwarts Blood Curse Martial Arts

Harry noticed the bundle beneath the grave, containing the ugly, restless baby.

As Harry stared at it, there was another painful look on his face, his eyes seeming to tell others not to open that baggage.

He heard a strange noise near his feet, turned his head as hard as he could, and traced it with the corner of his eye. He saw a big snake swimming on the grass, circling around the tombstone where he was tied.

Harry was so frightened that he almost opened his mouth to scream, but when the scream was about to escape his throat, he stopped abruptly.

Fake Moody wheeled a heavy stone cauldron beneath the tomb, large enough for an adult to sit on, and the water inside made a splashing sound.

The baby in the bundle moved excitedly, but Harry's eyes fell on the fake Moody's staff-holding hand.

When he used the wand to light the fire at the bottom of the crucible, the back of his hand was still covered with scars, but these scars quickly disappeared, and the wooden leg was thrown out of the trousers, and a sound foot stretched out.

He also took off the magic eye tied to his head and placed it casually in the outer pocket of his cloak.

The snake swam into the darkness, beyond Harry's field of vision.

Soon, the liquid in the crucible burned hotter and hotter, boiling bubbles and splashing sparks rose on the surface.

The bundle shook even more urgently, and the cold voice sounded again. "quick!"

What's in the pot now doesn't look like water, but sparks that are constantly jumping.

"It's ready, my master." Crouch Jr. said.

"Now..." said the cold voice.

Little Crouch tore open the bundle on the floor, completely revealing the ugly baby inside. It was like a hairless stone sculpture, its slimy body curled up, its skin covered with scales, like dark red tender meat. The most disgusting thing is that this strange baby has a flat snake face with a pair of glowing red eyes.

The strange baby hugged Little Crouch's neck, and Little Crouch carefully held it in his arms.

At this time, Crouch Jr.'s hood fell down, and Harry saw him in the firelight with a head of light yellow messy hair, and a fanatical expression on his pale and slightly freckled face. There were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and he looked much older than Sirius.

Little Crouch put the strange baby into the crucible, and with a hissing sound, the strange baby was immersed in the potion that was dancing with sparks.

Harry once again showed a painful expression, and murmured in a low voice: "Please... let it drown..."

Little Crouch closed his eyes, raised his wand, and with an excited voice, said to the night sky: "The bones of your ancestors, donated unintentionally, can regenerate your descendants!"

Harry suddenly looked surprised when he heard this, but returned to normal instantly.

A bone floated out of the outer pocket of Little Crow's robe and fell gently into the crucible. The sparkling liquid cracked, hissed, and turned a vivid blue.

Little Crouch pulled out a dagger from his cloak and shouted excitedly: "Servant's meat! If you donate it voluntarily, your master can be reborn——!"

He stretched out his right hand and swung the dagger held in his left hand towards his right hand without hesitation.

Harry closed his eyes tightly, but there was no scream, only the sound of something falling to the ground.

Little Crouch gasped in pain, but with extreme fanaticism on his face, he picked up the broken arm on the ground and threw it into the crucible.

The potion turned fiery red, and strong light shone into Harry's closed eyes...

Little Crouch, who was left with his left arm, walked up to Harry and continued to shout excitedly: "The blood of the enemy! Forced to give it! It can resurrect your enemy————!"

Harry struggled hard, but the dagger still penetrated his arm, and blood dripped down the torn sleeve of his robe.

Crouch Jr. put away the dagger, took out a small glass bottle from his pocket, and collected Harry's blood.

He walked over to the crucible and poured the blood into it.

The liquid in the crucible immediately turned dazzling white. After completing the task, Crouch Jr. fell to his knees as if he had lost all strength, and clamped the wound on his broken arm with his inner thighs to prevent it from continuing to spurt blood.

The crucible was about to boil, and sparks were flying in all directions, so bright and dazzling that the surrounding area turned a black velvet color.

At this moment, a few drops of rain began to fall from the sky.

Harry looked blankly at the sky, but there were no clouds.

But he soon went on to mutter: "I wish it had drowned, I wish it would not succeed..."

The rain did not get heavier in the end, but stopped. Even if it does rain, it cannot extinguish the sparks on the crucible.

Suddenly, the spark on the crucible went out. A puff of white steam rose up, blocking Harry's view.

He continued to murmur meaninglessly: "It will definitely not succeed...it drowned...please...please let it die..."

The white mist faded, and a man's figure appeared in the crucible. He was tall and thin, almost like a skeleton.

Little Crouch respectfully picked up the black robe from the bundle and put it on his master's head.

The emaciated Voldemort was resurrected.

He stared at Harry and stepped out of the cauldron. His face is paler than a skeleton, his eyes that are larger than an ordinary person are all red, he has a flat nose like a snake, the nostrils are two slits, and his face is bloodless.

Little Crouch knelt beside him, bowing his head respectfully and maintaining his obeisance.

The big snake swam back to Harry, hissing and swirling around him.

Voldemort reached into his pocket and pulled out a wand.

"Extend your arms, loyal servant." Voldemort said with satisfaction.

"My glory." Little Crouch stretched out his bloody broken arm.

Voldemort raised his wand and drew a silvery strip of light, which gradually twisted into a shining silver arm and flew to Little Crouch's severed hand.

Little Crouch took a few deep breaths, and the silver hand seamlessly connected to his severed arm, integrating with his body.

"My master." He said enthusiastically: "Thank you master for the reward."

After saying this, he knelt down to Voldemort and kissed the hem of his robe.

"How many people have the courage to come back after feeling its call?" Voldemort murmured to himself, looking towards the stars in the sky. “How many people would be foolish enough not to come?”

Crouch Jr. rolled up his sleeves at this time, revealing the Dark Mark branded on his left arm. The mark seemed to be torturing little Crouch, causing him to break into a cold sweat, but his face was flushed with excitement, as if this torture was the greatest reward.

Voldemort was pacing back and forth, scanning the cemetery from time to time.

About a minute later, his eyes fell on Harry again, a cruel smile on his snake face.

"Harry Potter, you are standing on the bones of my father." He hissed softly: "Do you know that Dumbledore thought that I would use these Muggle bones to reshape my body, and it will still be in my third generation?" Strange medicine was added to the bones of my blood relatives, intending to use this method to weaken my strength."

Voldemort laughed again, but Harry sat frozen on the spot, as if his mind had gone blank.

Voldemort walked around and looked at the scenery around him, and said with a proud smile: "Fortunately, I found the bones of my great-great-grandmother. She is the last descendant of Slytherin. Although using her bones to resurrect me will have some impact on me. , but you can bypass the old immortal’s plot. What’s family? It’s just a pile of materials.”

[Note: maternal great-grandmother = maternal great-grandmother’s mother]

"Look, Potter. Check it out, has such a huge magic power surpassed that of the old immortal?" Voldemort's expression suddenly became ferocious, and he used all his magic power to point his wand at the hillside.

A large black beam shot out, and the cold and cold magic immediately filled the entire cemetery along with the beam.

At the moment when Harry's teeth were chattering, the hillside pointed by the tip of Voldemort's staff had been destroyed by black light. Most of the mountain was smoothed out at once, and the remaining half of the mountain was corroded bit by bit by black things, until It stopped after a few seconds.

There was no sound, no explosion, no dust or smoke. Most of the hillside just turned black, and then melted into a corrosive substance. All traces of its existence were instantly wiped away, as if it had never existed in this world.

After the power of the blow disappeared, the cold feeling in the air still lingered, and its aura of depression and despair had the power to pierce people's hearts. The negative emotions of coldness and darkness spread throughout the cemetery.

"Are you stupid, Potter?" Voldemort saw Harry grinning from ear to ear in surprise, and a sneer appeared on his face.

He continued to pace, his red eyes darting back and forth between the graves. Harry felt this unparalleled cold magic, and his whole body trembled uncontrollably.

Voldemort was very satisfied with this power, but suddenly said softly: "Look, Potter! My real family is back..."

The rustling of cloaks came from the air, and a large number of figures apparated from various parts of the tomb. One by one, wearing hoods and covering their faces, they walked over slowly and cautiously.

Voldemort stood silently, and finally a Death Eater knelt on the ground and kissed the hem of his black robe.

"Master...Master..." the Death Eater called in a low voice.

The Death Eaters behind him all knelt and crawled to Voldemort at once, performed the same greeting ceremony, and then carefully stepped aside before standing up and forming a circle, surrounding Harry, Voldemort and Crouch Jr. in the center.

There were about thirty people in the circle, with some missing positions between people, but Voldemort didn't seem to think they would come back.

He glanced at the men's masks, making them tremble.

"Welcome, Death Eaters..." Voldemort said calmly: "Thirteen years... It has been thirteen years since our last gathering. But you still responded to my call just like yesterday... That is to say, we Still united under the Dark Mark! Right?"

"I smell guilt," he sniffed with his nostrils and said ferociously: "There is a stink of guilt in the air."

Someone was trembling with fear again.