A magical journey that begins at Hogwarts

"I have to say something to you about that, Harry."

The irrefutable facts prove that not everyone born into Gryffindor is a good person.

“Don’t even think about stalling for time,” the fake Moody interjected. “I will ensure that the master’s ritual is completed before the Polyjuice Potion wears off. You have no chance.”

"Tch!" Aaron curled his lip, showing no embarrassment whatsoever.

"Hurry up and bring the insect tail, don't keep your master waiting."

Little Pettigrew shuddered, ignoring the pain of his severed hand, and immediately focused his gaze on Harry Potter.

He held a knife in his left hand and approached step by step, muttering intermittently, "The blood of your enemy, forced to be offered, can bring your enemy back to life."

Harry struggled desperately, but to no avail, and could only watch helplessly as Pettigrew approached.

This knife could pierce his chest and go through his heart.

"Wait," Aaron quickly stopped him.

“Gaius, you’d better realize your current situation.” Fake Moody pointed his wand at him with displeasure. “My master values ​​you highly, but if you try to hinder his resurrection, I will not hesitate to cast a killing curse on you.”

"Uh...please don't misunderstand, I mean I'll do it."

Pettigrew is so careless! Look, there's still his blood on that knife. He shouldn't even be considered an enemy, right? What if he makes a mistake?

"This, this..." Little Star said in a panic, "I'll get a different knife right away."

"Hmph!" Fake Moody gave Aaron a meaningful look. "Hurry up and make your move. If you try anything funny..."

“Kill all three of them immediately.”

Cedric and his two companions: ...

Aaron took a deep breath and walked up to Harry. "Don't blame me now. Blame yourself for not trusting me enough earlier, otherwise we would still have had a chance to escape."

“Aaron, you can’t…” Harry shook his head in anguish, heartbroken, “You can’t help the Dark Lord, you should stop him from rising from the dead.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, shrugged speechlessly, and said, "I'll give you a chance. Tell me how to stop it."

Including you, he has four hostages, two ruthless servants, and a three- or four-meter-long python immune to magic.

Harry was speechless, and the three tied-up men were also ashamed.

“Then at least don’t get involved,” Harry pleaded. “My parents died because of a friend’s betrayal, and I don’t want my friend to do this to me.”

"Aren't you overthinking this?" Aaron's lips twitched slightly. "I'm just worried that Little Pettigrew might take this opportunity to stab you a couple more times. I'll be careful when I make a move, at least you won't be in any danger."

"is that so?"

"Are you done?" the fake Moody said impatiently, then pointed his wand at Krum. "Do you need me to give you a little motivation? I doubt Viktor has ever experienced the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Hold on."

Aaron clenched his fist and punched Harry in the face, breaking his nose.

Fresh blood gushed out immediately, quickly filling a bottle.

"The blood of the enemy is still fresh and warm."

Peter Pettigrew blinked blankly, took the bottle of blood in a daze, and then staggered to the cauldron and poured it in.

The crucible boiled violently, and the scarlet liquid turned milky white.

Sparks continued to fly from under the crucible, and the flames were several times more intense than before, as if they had been doused with gasoline.

Pettigrew and the fake Moody couldn't help but kneel on the ground, one with a look of terror on his face and the other with a look of madness on his face, clearly moved to tears.

The flames enveloped the crucible, causing the medicinal liquid inside to fuse with it.

Amidst the white steam mixed with countless wisps of black mist, a wrinkled, pale red baby appeared in everyone's sight.

He grew up at an extremely fast pace, becoming an adult in the blink of an eye, tall and thin.

His face was deathly pale, as if it were filled with death, his eyes were bloodshot, and his nose was extremely flat, with two thin slits extending from the bridge of his nose to his chin.

The bound warriors trembled uncontrollably; they had to accept a fact they didn't want to acknowledge.

Voldemort, the darkness of the wizarding world has been resurrected.

The fake Moody knelt before Voldemort, offering him the black wizard's robe that had been prepared beforehand, "Master."

"Ok!"

Voldemort nodded in satisfaction, and the wizard's robes automatically appeared on his body.

He gave himself a quick check-up, running his fingers over his arms, chest, and face...

His intact body and the immense magical power he hadn't felt in over a decade filled him with ecstasy.

Where is my wand?

“Here you are, Master.” Pettigrew took a wand out of his pocket and carefully handed it over.

"Stretch out your arm," Voldemort said calmly.

Little Starp was immediately moved to tears, thinking Voldemort was going to help him heal his wounds, and promptly extended his bloody severed arm.

"Thank you, Master."

"The other arm, the insect tail."

Little Pettigrew paused for a moment, then disappointedly stretched out his left hand.

Voldemort ignored the sobbing Pettigrew, pulled up his sleeve to reveal the pattern on his arm: a skull with a python spitting out its tongue.

"It's back, and many people will notice it."

Voldemort pressed his wand against the Dark Mark, and the mark turned jet black.

"After sensing it, how many people have the courage to return, and how many are too foolish to return?" Voldemort said meaningfully.

Aaron raised an eyebrow and quietly slipped his hand into his sleeve.

At the same time, Genes, who was quietly waiting at the Quidditch pitch, suddenly sensed something and quickly stood up.

"Did he call you?" Adrian asked.

"Yes, the young master sent out a distress signal, and the others felt it too."

“Then do me a favor!” Adrian said with a meaningful smile, “The other four warriors…”

“That’s against the rules,” Genes said with difficulty. “But since it’s your request, Miss, we can give it a try.”

"No, you misunderstand, Uncle Genes."

On the contrary, what I mean is that you should not break Gaius's rules.

Genes paused for a moment, but quickly recovered, "I'll tell you everything I saw when I get back, Miss."

"Thank you for your help, Uncle Genes."

Genes nodded slightly, and his body suddenly turned into a phantom and disappeared.

"Where did he go?" Dumbledore asked as he walked over.

“Of course I went to rescue people,” Adrian said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure I can save my brother.”

"What about the others?" Lupin asked nervously.

"It depends on luck."

......

The dark clouds in the sky formed a huge black demon mark, and thick black mist spewed from the snake's mouth.

The black mist settled around Voldemort, transforming into a series of hooded and masked dark wizards.

"Look at that entrance!" Aaron said. "Although it's a bit gloomy, I can't deny it's pretty cool. I'll try to make one myself sometime."

"Is this the time to talk about this?" Harry said, speechless. "We don't even know if we'll survive tonight!"

“You’re right, even when it’s tough, there’s a time when you should try to find joy in hardship!” Cedric said bitterly. “I think I can already see our deaths.”

The other two clearly realized this as well. Krum remained silent, but his gaze towards each of them carried a hint of apology. If he hadn't delayed them, they might not have been in such danger.

Furong didn't say anything, but just curled up on the ground and cried softly.

"I should be fine. As for you... I can only say I'll try my best," Aaron said bluntly. Even if he retracted his thought form, he could only protect himself at most. In a surprise attack, he might even risk serious injury to fight his way out.

If his bodyguard team can arrive in time, there is still hope that he can escape unscathed.

"Don't deceive yourself now," Furong said weakly.

Aaron shrugged and offered no explanation.

"Welcome, my friends." Voldemort looked at the Death Eaters who had formed a circle around him. "Thirteen years have passed, yet you stand before me as if it all happened just yesterday."

I have to admit, I'm disappointed that none of you even tried to contact me.

I've tried to find many reasons for you, but the results always leave me disheartened.

"Crawb, McNeil, Goyle..." Voldemort removed the masks from the Death Eaters one by one, and the Death Eaters who had their masks removed all knelt on the ground.

"And you, Lucius."

“My master,” Lucius said confidently, looking directly into Voldemort’s eyes, “as soon as I detect your signal, or hear any rumors of your whereabouts…”

“I’ve had signals, my cunning friend, and it’s not just been rumored,” Voldemort interrupted him. “But last summer, after a loyal Death Eater launched my mark into the air…”

“I’m going to find you, Master,” Lucius said urgently. “Only I can go to you.”

“You’re lying,” the fake Moody said. “I never saw you.”

“I can vouch for that,” Lucius said calmly. “I know who you are, Barty Crouch Jr., right?”

To be honest, I found it quite unbelievable when I first met you, but then I realized it made perfect sense. How could Barty Crouch have just stood by and watched his son die in Azkaban?

The fake Moody's demonic eyes darted around a few times before he grinned maliciously, "Then why didn't you come looking for me?"

"Just as I was about to go over there, wanting to contribute my meager strength to the rise of the Dark Lord, your father came chasing after us with a group of Aurors."

The Ministry of Magic has never relaxed its surveillance of me over the years, so I had no choice but to retreat.

"After that, I couldn't find you anymore," Lucius said, then looked at Voldemort and said respectfully, "I assure you, I have never abandoned our sorcery."

With you gone, I'm forced to present a different face to others every day, but it's just a mask.