From Hogwarts to Strixhaven.

Chapter 341 Return
"Wake up... boy... wake up..."

Harry gasped sharply and woke up from the cold ground.

Standing in front of him was a pale-faced woman. Although she looked haggard, her beauty could not be concealed.

Harry wanted to step back and draw his wand as he had practiced countless times in the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office, but he just hit the back of his head against a hard object and his hands were tied so he couldn't move.

"You are Malfoy's mother!" Harry recognized the woman in front of him and had a horrifying guess. "You colluded with Karkaroff! And you attacked Moody with the Imperius Curse! I thought Malfoy wasn't that bad!"

"That proves that their disguise is very effective! You are also very energetic! Harry Potter!" Another voice sounded, and Narcissa, who was standing in front of Harry, left.

When Harry moved his eyes, he found that he was not lying on the ground, but was tied to a tombstone with a rope. It was a gloomy and desolate cemetery, with dead grass mixed with residual snow, and it looked dilapidated. It seemed that no one had come to maintain it for a long time.

Behind the tall fir trees is the white outline of a small church. In the distance is a small hill with an old house sitting on the hillside.

Looking past the background, Harry finally saw the person who had spoken before. He was a sickly and thin man with a mixture of pride and ecstasy on his face.

The man used his wand to direct a huge stone crucible, which was placed not far in front of Harry. The liquid inside looked viscous and thick, just like the mercury often used by alchemists.

"Who are you?" Harry couldn't help asking.

"Barty!" the man replied. "The Barty Crouch you saw on the map!"

"Absolutely not! Barty Crouch is an old man!" Harry shouted.

"Yes, the one you are talking about is my father. We all call him Barty Crouch..." Little Barty approached Harry, pulled his cheeks and pried open his mouth like checking an animal.

"Don't give him any crap, Barty. I've been waiting too long!"

Another voice sounded, and Harry turned his head to see a serious and dull old man holding a ball of rags. He looked very much like Barty Jr., and Harry knew that it should be his father, Barty Crouch Sr.

Harry noticed that Old Barty didn't speak, and the sound actually came from the rag in his arms...

Maybe it wasn't a rag, but a baby.

"Yes, sir! Lord Dark Lord!" Little Barty saluted exaggeratedly and used his magic wand to light a fire in the stone crucible. The liquid like mercury began to emit steam.

Harry never thought that he would meet Voldemort in such a situation, but he did not feel any regret or fear in his heart. Instead, he asked loudly, "Why don't you show your true face, Voldemort? Are you afraid of me? Afraid of failing me again?"

"You dare!" Little Barty pointed his wand at Harry frantically and chanted the spell loudly, "Crucio!"

Unbearable pain surged from all over his body, like countless files rubbing against Harry's bones. His eyeballs were throbbing wildly in their sockets, and every organ in his body was wailing. For a moment, Harry even thought that death would be more comfortable...

"Stop!" Voldemort's angry voice sounded, "He is mine, Barty! If anything goes wrong with Harry Potter before I resurrect, I will let you watch every bone of yours being crushed into powder before your eyes!"

The severe pain in Harry's body stopped, and little Barty said humbly and fearfully: "Yes! Lord Dark Lord..."

"Hurry! I can't wait!" Voldemort urged again.

The liquid in the stone crucible had begun to boil, and the surface of the liquid looked like a piece of satin dotted with countless jewels.

Barty Jr. took Voldemort from his father's hands and held his sticky, wet body in his arms, just like holding his real son. Then Barty Jr. put Voldemort into the boiling potion, and Harry seemed to hear the sound of Voldemort's body hitting the bottom of the crucible with a hissing sound.

"Watch carefully, Harry Potter! Our master is coming back! He will bring absolute domination to the world! And this domination starts from today! It starts from my wand!" Little Barty pointed at the gray sky with the wand that tortured Harry severely, and chanted loudly, "Father's bones, accidentally donated, can make your son regenerate!"

The tomb where Harry was tied to the tombstone cracked open, and a small wisp of dust responded to little Barty's call and gently fell into the crucible.

The glowing potion suddenly reacted violently, sparks flew out continuously, and after a few seconds, the liquid turned into a bright and dirty blue, making it obvious at a glance that it was poisonous.

Little Barty licked his lips bloodthirstily and pulled out a dagger that was shining with cold light from his arms.

Harry thought at first that Barty was going to operate on him, but he didn't expect him to hold the dagger on his arm and said with a big laugh, "It is my great honor! Master! The flesh of a servant, voluntarily donated, can bring your master back to life!"

After a muffled groan, Barty Jr.'s left arm broke at the elbow and fell into the crucible with a plop. The poisonous potion changed again, from a turbid blue to a flaming red, and the ominous light illuminated Harry's terrified face.

"Now it's your turn...Harry Potter!" Little Barty stopped the bleeding of his broken arm, walked up to Harry with a dagger in hand, and stabbed him in the shoulder.

Blood gushed out along with Harry's screams. Little Barty threw the blade aside and scooped up some blood with his hands.

He stumbled back to the stone cauldron, chanting the last part of the spell aloud: "The blood of your enemies, forced to give, can resurrect your enemies!"

Little Barty knelt in front of the crucible out of pain and ecstasy, staring obsessively at every spark flying out of the crucible until the color of the liquid changed again, becoming a black velvet color.

The white mist continued to rise, and along with it rose the figure of a man. He was tall and thin, and looked almost like a skeleton.

"Dress me." said the cold, arrogant and sharp voice. Barty immediately responded with trembling lips, "Yes", and hurriedly got up from the ground, but before he could stand up completely, Voldemort issued the next order: "Narcissa, you come."

Narcissa, who had been standing there blankly from the beginning, looked as if she had been bitten by a poisonous snake. She came to her senses, hurriedly picked up the black robe on the ground, and put it on Voldemort's pale head.

Voldemort let out a satisfied sigh, and then began to examine his body. His hands were thin and strong, not much stronger than a skeleton. Starting from his chest, his slender fingers explored his new body bit by bit until they brushed against his hairless face.

Those scarlet eyes seemed to glow, and even in the pale snow, they looked very piercing. Voldemort was simply ecstatic, and he moved every part of his body flexibly, as if he was dancing a strange and terrifying dance.

"What a touching reunion, Harry Potter." Voldemort laughed sinisterly. "After thirteen years, we finally meet face to face again."

Harry stared at Voldemort's pale face without any emotion in his heart, but he felt a discomfort in his throat and couldn't help dry-heaving.

Voldemort looked away in disgust and stared at little Barty who was still kneeling in front of the cauldron.

"Bati, my most loyal servant." Voldemort said lazily, "How should I reward you?"

Little Barty almost shed tears. He crawled over and kissed the back of Voldemort's foot, saying loudly: "It's too early now. You still have many enemies to eliminate... It won't be too late to reward me after you have fulfilled your ultimate dream..."

"I thought I would die quietly like a worm in the forest of Albania... I didn't expect that I still have so many loyal followers, you, Barty, Narcissa, Lucius and his wife... and Goyle who gave his life in the Quidditch World Cup." Voldemort said softly, "I solemnly promise you that I will not forget any of you. Now, extend your hand, Barty."

Barty stretched out his good right hand, and Voldemort rolled up his sleeves, revealing a bright red tattoo that looked exactly like the Dark Mark.

At the moment when Voldemort was successfully resurrected, this dark magic mark that had lost its effectiveness became as hot as a branding iron, actively conveying the message of the Dark Lord's return to every Death Eater.

Voldemort looked at his masterpiece with great satisfaction, and stretched out his pale finger to press on it: "It is back, and everyone will notice it... Now, let's see how many people have the courage to come back? And how many people will be so foolish as to choose not to come?"

Harry had no idea what Voldemort was saying, but he could see that he was waiting for someone to react to what he had just done.

Voldemort stepped out of the stone cauldron and began to pace in front of Harry. A large dark green snake emerged from the snow and circled around its master, tongue spitting.

"You are standing on my father's grave, Harry Potter." Voldemort's voice was reminiscent of a snake, or even a larger reptile. Harry could almost feel his cold scales scratching his neck. "He was a stupid Muggle... just like your mother... but they both played their parts and gave us new lives... your mother used the 'magic of love' to save your life, and my father contributed his bones to give me a new life... in this respect, we are quite similar, aren't we?"

Harry did not answer, but heat and courage were returning to him little by little, because Voldemort had just mentioned his mother, his mother who had just returned from death and was now a Potions professor at Hogwarts.

He knew that Ivy and Dumbledore would definitely notice his disappearance, and maybe after some time, the three Weasleys who knew his whereabouts would take the initiative to report the matter.

"See that house on the hill, Potter? My father lived there. And my mother was a wizard who lived in the village below the hill and fell madly in love with him. But when she revealed her identity, he abandoned her... My father didn't like her magic..."

"He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was born, Potter. My mother died giving birth to me, and I grew up in a Muggle orphanage... but I vowed to find him... I took revenge on him, on the man who shared my name... Tom Riddle..."

Voldemort did not stop pacing, his red eyes constantly scanning Harry, as if he wanted to leave some wounds on him with his gaze.

"Recalling my family history makes me a little sad..." Voldemort said softly, but then he raised his voice again, "Now! Look! Harry! My real family is back!"

There was a rustling sound in the air from the fluttering of cloaks, which Harry guessed was the sound of Apparitions.

Among the tombstones, in the woods, on the dead grass and the remaining snow, many wizards wearing black cloaks, hoods and covering their faces with black cloth appeared.

They moved their feet carefully, fearing to disturb Voldemort who was standing in the middle...

Then they knelt down one after another, like believers worshiping their gods.

A figure in luxurious robes caught Harry's attention. It was Lucius Malfoy, who had given Harry a high score in the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and it was impossible for him to forget this face.

Lucius Malfoy was the only wizard who did not cover his face or kneel on the ground. He quickly walked towards Voldemort, bowed his head and shouted respectfully: "You are back... I can't believe this is true..."

"Lucius." Harry actually heard a hint of enthusiasm in Voldemort's tone. "My loyal old friend, there are few people who can do what you do... You hold a high position in the Ministry of Magic, and you are a favorite of the Minister, but you are willing to give up everything and make such a big fuss at the Quidditch World Cup to attract my attention..."

"But this was too much noise. Not only us, but even the Aurors came looking for you." Voldemort was still whispering, and beads of sweat were already oozing from Lucius's face. "I had just been freed at that time, with the help of Barty Crouch and his son... It's a pity that old Crouch changed his mind at the last minute, and we had to use the Imperius Curse to control him... What a pity for a person who still fantasizes about power even though he has nothing. If he could wake up earlier, perhaps he could become our first Minister of Magic! Now, this position is up to you, Lucius."

"That's just my duty as your loyal servant..." Lucius whispered.

"When I saw in the newspaper that Harry Potter became a warrior, I knew you could be trusted, Lucius." Voldemort explained proudly, not only to Harry, but also to all the Death Eaters standing here.

"We knocked out the two Aurors outside your manor and used the Imperius Curse to control them. Fortunately, the current Minister of Magic is a fool, otherwise our actions might be further hindered. It's a pity that you have been in Hogwarts all the time, and there is no way to contact you safely under Dumbledore's nose. Barty is eager to prove himself, so I gave him the task of bringing this kid here... You don't blame me for taking away your glory, right? Lucius?"

"As long as it is your will, I will obey it without hesitation." Lucius still did not raise his head.

"Let me see your eyes, Lucius," Voldemort said suddenly.

Lucius slowly raised his head and looked into Voldemort's scarlet eyes with his grey eyes.

　Voldemort enters the countdown to his death!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)