Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 281 Experiential Remote Live Streaming

“Hedwig?” Mrs. Weasley thought for a moment, then said absentmindedly, “No, dear…no, not a single letter.”

Harry looked somewhat disappointed, but gave Ron and Tyella a meaningful look and said, "Ron, could I go to your room to tidy up my things? Um... could Tyella help me?"

“Sure…I’ll go too,” Ron answered without hesitation. “Hermione, what about you?”

“Okay,” she said immediately, and the four of them filed out of the kitchen and upstairs.

"What's going on, Harry?" Ron asked as soon as they had closed the door to the attic room.

“There’s something I haven’t told you… well, I’ve already written to Gentyella about it…” Harry said. “Anyway, it’s that when I woke up the Saturday morning before last, my scar was hurting again.”

Ron and Hermione's reactions were almost exactly what Harry had imagined in his bedroom on Privet Drive.

Hermione gasped and immediately began to offer various suggestions, listing a long list of reference books and a long list of names, from Albus Dumbledore to Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts school doctor.

Ron, on the other hand, looked completely dumbfounded.

"But, but, but... but he wasn't there, was he? That mysterious person? I mean... he was at Hogwarts when your scar hurt last time, right?"

“But I know he’s definitely not on Privet Drive,” Harry said. “But I saw him in my dream… him and Peter… you know, Wormtail… I can’t remember the whole dream, but I remember they were plotting to kill… someone.”

He hesitated for a moment, almost saying "you're going to kill me," but he couldn't bear to make Hermione's expression even more terrified, since Hermione was already horrified.

"You... what do you think it might be?" Harry cautiously observed Tyella's expression, seemingly afraid that Tyella might recall something unpleasant—

Although Tiera eventually changed her story, everyone knew that Tiera's arm was injured by Peter Pettigrew.

“Oh, don’t worry, Potter.” To Harry’s relief, Tyella was remarkably calm about the whole thing, as if it weren’t Peter Pettigrew blowing off his arm. But then Tyella’s next words—

"It just means Voldemort is about to be resurrected."

This made Harry, Ron, and Hermione's eyes widen instantly.

“Wait, wait, wait…” Hermione asked in disbelief.

"You mean, you mean, the mysterious man..." Ron asked, somewhat incredulously.

"Voldemort is going to rise again!" Tyrell said with an expression that seemed to enjoy watching the drama unfold, as she stood up, sat behind Harry, and then reached out to gently rub Harry's forehead.

Just like he did in first grade.

This time, however, Tyrell no longer used Harry's scar to sense traces of dark magic. Instead, she controlled her own magic and life force, flowing along her fingers to the scar on Harry's forehead, and into the Voldemort fragment within Harry's body—

The fragments of Voldemort within Harry were like snails finally feeling the rain, gradually awakening from their slumber.

"I foresaw Voldemort's resurrection," Tierra declared loudly. "You all saw it; I demonstrated it to you in Defense Against the Dark Arts class last year."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione's faces turned deathly pale instantly.

……

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away at Riddle Manor, Voldemort, who had just drunk some milk at Peter Pettigrew's service, was dozing off when suddenly a voice entered his mind—

"I foresaw Voldemort's resurrection."

A familiar voice spoke in his mind.

"You all saw it; I demonstrated it to you in Defense Against the Dark Arts class last year."

The familiar voice spoke again. Accompanying the voice was a bright scene.

Voldemort instantly snapped back to reality and carefully examined the scene he was watching—

The scene depicts a simple child's room covered with Quidditch posters.

In the center of the picture sit two little wizards—

One was a boy with red hair and freckles all over his face, and the other was a girl with brown hair and big front teeth.

"No! Don't say it, don't say his name!" The red-haired boy, whom Voldemort remembered as the Weasley boy who often followed Harry around in their first year, hissed through clenched teeth.

"Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort..." The familiar voice seemed to be deliberately antagonizing Ron, repeating the name many times on purpose—

Now Voldemort finally recognized that familiar voice—

"That damned...that damned Mudblood..." Voldemort cursed weakly, "That wretched...little liar..."

Clearly, Voldemort had already obtained all the lies fabricated by "Giddy Lohart" from Peter Pettigrew.

As one of the parties involved in the story, Voldemort was certainly well aware of what he had done and what he hadn't done.

It's now clear that Gilderoy Lockhart, that good-for-nothing, has gained immense benefits; his strength and status are far beyond what the now-declining Voldemort can handle.

So Voldemort decided to vent all his resentment and anger on Tyrell.

"I foresaw Voldemort's resurrection," Tierra's voice rang out again, simultaneously triggering sensations in all her other senses—

Lying on the sofa in the Riddle family home, Voldemort could feel Tyella's fingers gently pressing on his temples and stroking his forehead.

This made Voldemort feel relaxed and at ease, and he began to calm down and listen quietly to Tyrell's conversation with them.

“Voldemort will definitely be resurrected,” Tierra added.

Oh? I never imagined this little liar was actually a prophet...

Voldemort lay on the sofa thinking this.

“And he will be resurrected within a year,” Tierra said.

Hmm... this kid is a real prophet.

Voldemort lay comfortably on the sofa, lost in thought.

“He will return in an incomparably powerful manner,” Tierra said. “He will be stronger than ever before.”

Perhaps I can have this brat make a few prophecies for me first, and then control him with the Imperius Curse.
Voldemort thought to himself.

“Voldemort will rule the entire wizarding world in a terrifying and brutal way,” Tierra said.

"This little Tyrell must be a prophet," Voldemort thought. "Perhaps I can try to bewitch him again and make him my chief saint."

“But don’t worry,” Tyella said with a sly smile, “because he’ll be killed by Harry before he graduates.”

“His death was horribly gruesome; he was reduced to ashes, not a single drop remained,” Tiera added.

"Shit!" Voldemort roared furiously, as if suddenly awakened from a beautiful dream. "Shit! I will turn that damned Mudblood into an Infernal!"

(End of this chapter)