"Wait, wait! Harry! I have..."
The emotions on Snape's face were complex—panic, bewilderment, shock... as if woven together. Looking at those eyes that had regained their bright green color, the man instinctively wanted to explain, but the broken lower back against the tombstone left him no room to struggle.
And obviously, Harry, who was currently in a fury, didn't want to hear the explanation from this Professor.
"Professor Dumbledore trusted you so much... go explain to Cedric."
Harry cursed softly, raising his right hand with his magic wand, "Avada Ke... (Avada...)" "Expelliarmus!"
A purplish-red charm shot from the side, and in Snape's eyes, the night sky reappeared. Harry was blasted away, curling up and collapsing on the ground. After defeating more than twenty Death Eaters, the boy was already at the end of his rope, so now he naturally had no strength to stop this sudden attack—
"Haha, thank you, Severus—"
Bella crawled up from the ground, her mud-covered face still displaying a ferocious expression. Taking a full hit from the Crucio spell brought on by pure malice didn't feel pleasant. Even as a loyal Death Eater of Voldemort and a "Gourmet of Crucio," she couldn't withstand it unscathed, lying on the ground for more than ten minutes.
It's worth noting that Voldemort's Killing Curse could only make her pause for two minutes.
But, as luck would have it, here in the graveyard, just waking up, she managed to defeat the formidable "Savior."
"Hey, Potter? Got any strength left?"
Bella swayed forward, kicking Harry's stomach, "How about it? Ready for another three hundred rounds with me?"
"Ugh..."
Kicked once, Harry only grunted, not even looking at Bella. His eyes remained fixed on Snape—the man had already stood up. Though he looked rather disheveled, he had put his hood back on, not even glancing back at Harry's eyes.
"Well done, Bella, my most loyal servant..."
Not far away, above the stone platform, the massive, pulsating, purplish-black tumor—
was "staring" over here. In the scarlet vertical pupils on the tumor, the shock and rage from Cedric's surprise attack and Barty's death hadn't completely faded, but had now been replaced by a sickly satisfaction and an impatient craving. The viscous, hoarse voice sounded like a snake slithering across a stone slab.
"The dying struggle of the 'Savior,' such an entertaining spectacle. But alas, the show must end..."
"Bring him over!"
The hissing voice suddenly grew sharp, carrying an undeniable tone of command.
So, Harry was propped up by Bella, who didn't forget to cast a Petrification Curse on him. Despite speaking taunting words, she had to admit that Harry's prowess had genuinely startled the Death Eaters.
Harry was dragged to the stone platform, facing that hideous tumor.
The cold, rough ground scraped against the wounds on his body. The boy could only barely move his eyeballs. He watched as the Death Eaters fetched a large cauldron from somewhere, placing it by the stone platform. The cauldron seemed to be filled, and the liquid within quickly heated, not only boiling but also sparking as if it were on fire.
Then, he saw Bella pull out a small knife from her pocket, seemingly bow to Voldemort, then swiftly cut off the tumor growing on Karkaroff's neck. The incision was smooth as a mirror, even covered with a perfect layer of skin. Karkaroff, who seemed dead a moment ago, suddenly started breathing again.
Bella placed Voldemort into the cauldron. Now, the water boiled more fiercely, the entire surface flickering with sparks as if adorned with diamonds.
"Planning to drown yourself? How surprising, Tom..."
Harry had regained his sarcastic strength. He spoke through the water, looking at the tumor bubbling at the bottom, sneering.
"The bone of the father, unknowingly given, can rebirth your son!"
Harry heard Bella muttering, and then the grave beneath his feet cracked open. A small wisp of dust rose at Bella's summons, gently falling into the cauldron. Then, the diamond-like liquid surface shattered, sparks flying, and it hissed, turning into a bright blue that looked poisonous without tasting it.
"Poisoned or not, I certainly won't drink this bathtub water..."
Harry wanted to continue mocking, but Bella, standing beside him, had already aimed the knife at herself, "The flesh of the servant, willingly given, can rebirth your master." Without flinching, the woman cut off her forearm, the blood and flesh pouring into the cauldron, turning the liquid into a boiling crimson.
"Finally..."
Though Bella remained composed, there was some visible pain as she moved in front of Harry.
"Finally? The head of the Savior? Hmph!"
Harry spat directly into the cauldron, and although the color of the liquid didn't change, the boy's spirit buoyed significantly.
"The blood of the enemy, forcibly taken... can revive your foe."
Bella did not cut off Harry's head, but collected the boy's flowing blood from his face in a glass bottle. There was so much blood, the boy's body was covered in wounds, and Bella poured the blood into the cauldron. Then, a color akin to black velvet spread—
Though Harry in his heart prayed that this nonsensical ritual wouldn't succeed, destiny went against his wishes.
The sparks from the cauldron extinguished, white steam arose from within, veiling everything before Harry. Then, through the mist, he saw a man's black silhouette slowly rising from the cauldron, tall and thin, resembling a skeleton.
"Master!!!"
Bellatrix let out a heart-wrenching scream mixed with immense glory and painful ecstasy.
Harry was startled, the fear that had just risen instantly dissipated.
"Give me a robe."
A cold, sharp voice spoke from behind the steam, and Harry recognized it as Voldemort's. Soon, someone brought a black robe. The slender man donned the robe, then stepped out of the cauldron, eyes fixed on Harry before him...
"Ah, why don't you just attach yourself back to that guy, you look even dumber now, Tom."
"Harry's voice was somewhat weak, but it clearly didn't stop him from mocking."
"...Thus, Voldemort is resurrected, and the story officially begins."
"Harry—Potter, it's been a while..."
"Voldemort spoke."
"?"
"The newly resurrected bald-headed Caucasian turned to look behind him, but there was nothing there."
"..."
"...What are you all staring at me for?"
Standing at the back of the crowd, the "Death Eater" who had been narrating as an aside from the start glanced around at the silent crowd. He then lowered his head, tucking away his notebook, and earnestly stood upright again. "Ahem, you can continue now, I won't interrupt..." he kindly reminded.
"You—"
"Me?"
"Who are you?!"
Voldemort had received his magic wand, glaring at the "Death Eater," squinting. This bizarre, completely off-script entrance reminded him of someone... damn, couldn't be?
"Ah, since you sincerely asked..."
So, William obediently removed his hood. Amid the bewildered and shocked gazes of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, he smiled, "Since you're not planning to push the plot forward, let's move straight to the next act." The man raised his right hand and snapped his fingers lightly, "Avada Kedavra."
In the next moment, the grace of the God of Death descended from above, with green lightning forming a sea.