The Return to Hogwarts

"what happened!"

Fighting a true Death Eater is an unprecedented experience. The extreme pressure feels like an invisible hand, as if death itself is gripping your heart. One wrong move and you're dead!

Hermione's tracksuit was soaked with sweat, and she looked much more disheveled than Barty Crouch Jr. because her spells were not as powerful as Barty's and the magic was slightly weaker. If it weren't for the good fortune she had recently encountered, she might already be a cold corpse like Gabrielle.

Moreover, Hermione was quite certain that if this duel continued, she would be the one to fall in the end.

Harry and Ron's intervention instantly gave Hermione an overwhelming advantage in the duel, allowing her a chance to catch her breath. However, she felt no joy. Instead, leaning against the broken wall, she glared at Harry and Ron, who had rushed to her side, with a look of exasperation and anger, and shrieked angrily.

"What's going on? Why are you still here?!"

"That bastard tried to kidnap me and Harry, to hand us over to..."

Ron tried to explain, but he couldn't bring himself to say the name.

"I will never abandon you, Hermione."

Harry replied decisively.

A brief silence fell over the cemetery, which was filled with the constant explosions, as both sides caught their breath and recovered their strength.

"We only have one chance; we can only try."

Hermione stopped thinking about the root cause of what was happening and focused all her energy on getting away. She pulled Harry and Ron to her side and said in a very low voice,

"Apparition won't work, we'll have to rely on Blink Dagger. Crouch... I mean the one at the Ministry of Magic. Just now... I told you to leave, Harry, Blink Dagger might be able to help us."

"That's just a little house-elf, Hermione. What can it possibly do?"

Ron stared wide-eyed, quite puzzled.

"Think of the house-elves at Hogwarts, Ron. Wizards' Anti-Apparition Charms don't work on house-elves; only special magic can counter them. We have to try; this is our only chance!"

"If that's the case!"

Ron was stunned for a moment, then his face lit up with elation. "Dum! If you're its owner, you can summon it, and it can take us away!"

Judging from Hermione's struggling expression, she had considered this, but simply chose not to.

"No. I can't."

Hermione pursed her lips and shook her head repeatedly.

"I can't let it go to its death. I'm not even sure if the house-elves' teleportation magic will work here."

Gabrielle Fleur, the little sister who was so beloved by her classmates, is dead. Just thinking about it makes Harry feel a sharp pain in his heart. Harry knows very well that if she had any other choice, Hermione would not want to drag Dom into their predicament!

Hermione scanned the area and located Gilgamesh's position. They had to approach discreetly to avoid revealing their true intentions.

“I thought you could take on more responsibility, Barty.”

Suddenly, that chilling voice rang out again, cold and impatient with disappointment. He had seen everything that had just happened, and he hadn't expected that just a few underage wizards could leave his loyal followers helpless.

"I can do anything for you, Master!"

Little Barty seemed deeply insulted. He roared and charged out from behind the tombstone, eager to fight the three young wizards who had brought him such humiliation. But the Dark Lord's cold voice rang out once more—

"enough!"

Little Barty immediately froze on the spot, staring at them with resentment.

The three of them still harbored a sliver of hope that the hideous dwarf monster was not the terrifying Dark Lord, despite the overwhelming evidence pointing to his identity. They refused to believe it, for it almost certainly meant certain death.

Upon hearing the word "enough," the three immediately tensed up, ready to dodge at any moment. No matter what the dwarf planned to do, they were not going to give up so easily.

However, what happened next made Harry realize just how big the gap was between them and the top wizards.

A force like a torrent of gravity descended from the sky, suppressing them and giving them no chance to dodge. Then, two nauseating green beams pierced through the smoke and dust, grazing past the immobilized Harry.

Bang, bang!

Gravity vanished, and Harry's joints felt rusty; to move even the slightest muscle required immense effort.

He finally saw them, two bodies lying in a pile of rubble, their lifeless eyes staring at the sky, showing no sign of pain.

Hermione and Ron are dead.

Chapter 850 The Final Return (Seeking votes at the beginning of the month)

2024-04-08

boom!

As if his spine had been ripped out, Harry knelt down. The world was so quiet at that moment that he could even hear the sound of his blood rushing through his veins.

Ron and Hermione, his two best friends, lay motionless on a pile of rubble, without groaning in pain or trying to get up. They simply lay there quietly, their lifeless eyes staring at the sky.

The three of them met four years ago on the Hogwarts Express. Although it wasn't a particularly pleasant first encounter, Harry hasn't forgotten a single detail.

As if destined, they became friends at Hogwarts. Together, they overcame numerous obstacles guarding the Philosopher's Stone, saving it from Quirrell and Voldemort. They hid together in Myrtle's bathroom brewing Polyjuice Potion and stormed into Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets to rescue Ginny. They followed Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest to save Sirius from werewolves and Dementors.

At Hogwarts, they attended classes together, ate together, played together, and went on night excursions together.

Outside of school, they went to watch the Quidditch World Cup together and visited the orphanage where Professor Blaine grew up.

Hermione was the smartest little witch he had ever met; she always helped him in crucial moments. Ron, on the other hand, made him realize how wonderful it is to have a close brother.

Harry firmly believed that their friendship would last, even after they left Hogwarts and had their own families and lives, just like his parents, Sirius, and Remus.

But now they are lying on the ground, motionless.

Harry knelt on the ground, but he felt empty inside and out, as if he were sinking into a bottomless abyss.

"No"

Those emerald eyes had never been so dim, and that heart, once filled with courage, had never been so afraid of reality.

"No"

Harry shook his head and spoke softly, but he couldn't hear his own voice.

How could this happen? Ron and Hermione are going to die?

This is absurd, as absurd as if someone told him that Professor Dumbledore and Professor Blaine were actually the most terrifying Dark Lords.

Harry trembled. He wasn't afraid. His heart was numb; he was just cold and tired. So tired that when that Death Eater named Barty Jr., who had somehow escaped Azkaban's punishment, grabbed him by the back of his collar and dragged him, he didn't even have the strength to struggle.

Perhaps because of his previous setback, Barty Crouch Jr. dragged Harry with exceptional roughness, showing no regard for Harry's safety. Along the way, the sharp pebbles on the ground did not tear his tracksuit, but his legs were still covered in blood.

Finally arriving at their destination, Barty Jr. forcefully threw Harry down in front of a tall tombstone. The momentum caused Harry's back to slam heavily against the tombstone. Before that, Harry had seen a name in the flashing light of his wand.

Tom Riddle.

Desperate to prove he wasn't a good-for-nothing, Barty acted swiftly. He conjured ropes with magic and tied Harry tightly to the tombstone, binding him from neck to ankle, one rope after another. Afraid Harry would break free, he checked the ropes several times after finishing. Finally, he cut open his robe, crumpled it into a ball, and roughly stuffed it into Harry's mouth.

After doing all that, Barty left.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Harry remained motionless, staring blankly at the spot where Hermione and Ron had fallen. He could now hear sounds—the soft sobbing of Sparkle a few dozen feet away, the house-elf repeating something, though Harry couldn't make it out. And Barty Crouch the Elder seemed truly dead, lying there motionless ever since he issued the warning.

A hissing sound came from the grass, and a large snake with brightly colored patterns slithered up in front of Harry. It raised its upper body, and its scarlet eyes and sharp fangs looked even more terrifying than the basilisks he had ever encountered.

"Nagini, he's not fit to be your dinner, not even dead—"

The dwarf's lazy voice pierced the darkness and reached Harry's ears.

“I will return his body to Dumbledore; I’m sure he’ll love the gift. Just wait, you’ll have a good meal. Wait a little longer.”

Nagini flicked her tongue and licked Harry's cheek, then obeyed, curling up and hiding again.

Little Barty returned with a sickly smile, bringing with him a heavy stone cauldron that seemed to be filled with water; his hearing had returned, and he could hear the splashing sound from within. This cauldron was larger than any of the cauldrons Ha had ever used, large enough for an adult to sit inside.

After catching his breath, Barty used his wand to start a fire under the crucible. The liquid inside the crucible seemed to heat up very quickly, and the surface not only began to boil but also sparked, as if it were burning.

The rising heat grew thicker and thicker, making even Little Barty's figure blurry.

"quick!"

Harry heard that sharp, cold voice again, and his scars started to ache again, the pain piercing through his numbness and making him gasp for breath.

When Little Barty left and returned, the entire surface of the water in the crucible was sparkling, as if it were studded with diamonds.

"It's done, Master!"

Little Barty's voice trembled with excitement, while nearby, Sparkle let out a loud wail.

“Now,” the cold voice said.

Barty the Younger carried the dwarf to the cauldron tongs. The ugly face covered in pustules behind the hazy mist sent shivers down Harry's spine. But his mouth was gagged so he couldn't let out a painful roar. Moreover, he didn't want to cry out. His hatred was so intense that it surpassed everything else, making him unwilling to show any weakness!

Barty Crouch reverently lifted the dwarf and gently placed it into the cauldron. The sparks that danced as the dwarf touched the surface of the potion allowed Harry to see the flat face with its pustules constantly bursting and healing.

Harry howled and screamed, but the burning pain from his scars couldn't break him. He began to struggle, wanting to tear the dwarf apart!

But he couldn't do it; anger is the most useless thing, it can't change anything.

The dwarf monster made a soft thud, like the bottom of a pot. Little Barty took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and his sickly face seemed to glow, as if he were basking in the glory of collateral damage.

"Your son can be reborn from your father's bones, even if he is donated unintentionally!"

The fury beneath Harry's feet cracked, and a wisp of dust rose into the air at Barty Jr.'s call, gently settling back into the cauldron. The diamond-cut pages shattered, hissing and sparks flying.

"The flesh of your servant, offered voluntarily, can bring your master back to life!"

As if singing a hymn, Little Barty raised his voice high and mighty. Without hesitation, he pointed his wand at his left hand, and after a flash of light, his palm fell into the cauldron.

Die! You despicable person! You deserve to die!