Harry Potter’s Natural Villain Chapter 263: The resurrection of failure

For a normal person, it takes courage to cut off a part of one's arm by self-mutilation. It is no wonder that he is so afraid and hesitant.

Peter Pettigrew tremblingly stretched out his right hand-the hand with one missing finger, and then held the dagger tightly with his left hand and waved it to his right hand.

"Stab it."

At that moment, he closed his eyes, trying not to watch the cruel and **** scene.

A shrill scream resounded across the night sky, and flew several owls perched on a yew tree not far away. The branches shook and rustled.

With a light plop, one of Peter's arms fell into the boiling crucible at this time.

He panted in pain, and sat down next to the cauldron, his intact arm supporting his body.

"Very good, well done." Voldemort in the cauldron smiled satisfied, "I feel my strength is recovering. Next, we just need to wait quietly for the arrival of the kid, yes Wormtail?"

"Yes, my great master." He said excitedly. Once Voldemort regains his strength, he will receive supreme awards. Even if he made some mistakes before, he still returned to his master and did his duty. Working hard for his big plan conscientiously,

"Okay, Master." Peter said respectfully, but still frowning from the pain, the intact hand picked up the wand that had just been thrown on the ground.

"Waste." Voldemort sneered, and then only the thin arm with a lot of liquid medicine attached to him pointed at Peter's broken arm, and said coldly:

"Healed as before!" A light flashed, and the **** severed hand healed immediately.

"I will let you get a new arm later, which will be stronger. This is a reward for you." Voldemort said with a chuckle. The effect of this wish seems to be his sharp voice. It's not so infiltrating anymore.

"Thank you for your generosity, Master!" Peter Pettigrew said flatly, then slumped on the ground, regaining his strength, and waiting.

"The blood of the enemy-the enemy...forced to donate...resurrect your enemy..." Peter muttered to himself.

"Oh, our protagonist hasn't come yet, Peter." Voldemort is in a great mood now, that uncomfortable feeling has been left behind by him, and his power is about to recover, that fearsome black The Demon King is about to return, so he is even in the mood to tease his men.

"Master, I'm just trying the spell. I'm afraid I will forget it later." Peter Pettigrew said quickly.

Then something amazing happened, and the smile on Voldemort's disgusting baby's face suddenly disappeared.

The liquid in the crucible turned dazzling white at this time.

The crucible was about to boil, and the diamond-like sparks splashed around, so bright and dazzling, everything around it turned into a black velvety color.

Suddenly, the sparks on the crucible went out. A white vapor rose from the cauldron.

"The worm...tail...bar?" A chill that radiated from the soul struck Pettigrew. He still doesn't know what went wrong, but Voldemort was full of hatred and trembling deeply. The sound of the bone marrow made him cold all over his body.

Did the resurrection fail?

Peter Pettigrew couldn't help but think so.

Next, through the white mist in front of him, he horrified to see the black figure of a man slowly rising from the cauldron, tall and thin, like a skeleton.

Then he was thrown on the ground before, and the black robe that was responsible for wrapping the package suddenly moved, rushed into the cauldron, and put it on Voldemort's body.

"Oh, I thought you were just cowardly, stupid, and not so loyal to me, but I didn't expect that you still have hatred in my emotions?"

The man said coldly and sharply.

Peter Pettigrew was in a cold sweat, and he vaguely guessed what was going on.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron and stared at his servant, a face paler than a skeleton, his two big eyes were red, his nose was flat like a snake's, and his nostrils were two slits...

Voldemort is resurrected.

Voldemort began to examine his body. His hands were like large pale spiders, and his long, pale fingers stroked his chest, arms, and face; those red eyes appeared brighter in the dark, and his pupils were slits. Like the eyes of a cat. He raised his hands and moved his fingers.

Peter Pettigrew couldn't see the expression of his master in front of him, but his chilly back and his keen sense of danger in the dark made him understand that Voldemort seemed to be in a bad mood.

At least it doesn't meet the joy of getting the body back.

A big snake suddenly sprang out of the gloomy grass at this time, its huge body twisted flexibly, and then began to gradually entangled around Voldemort.

Then he left quickly like untying the rope, crawling under Voldemort's feet.

In a short period of time, Voldemort had put on his clothes.

"Oh? Nagini, are you happy for me too? But I'm not in the mood to be happy now." Voldemort said lightly, unable to see the happiness and anger, but Peter Pettigrew knew that he was about to face this man. Terrible anger.

"Voldemort's return should be perfect. Using the blood of the boy who ruined his foundation as a sign of humiliation was a better choice."

Voldemort murmured.

"But now it seems to be ruined by an idiot. You said what should I do with him."

Peter Pettigrew is lying on the ground shaking like chaff~IndoMTL.com~ dare not say a word.

"Listen." Voldemort said softly suddenly, Peter Pettigrew immediately obeyed the command subconsciously, and pricked his ears.

"I feel the space is trembling, and many people are coming here." Voldemort said, Nagini suddenly straightened up his pliable body at this time, looking quite anthropomorphically, the snake's eyes turned, The scarlet letter was stretched out, twisting.

"Let's guess who they are?" Voldemort said softly, in a nostalgic tone, and then glanced at Peter who was aside.

"Ah!" The pain deep in the bone marrow caused Peter Pettigrew to let out a scream, and he began to roll on the ground. He watched the wound on his healed arm suddenly burst open, bleeding again. And the arm extended further, and there was something on the skin that seemed to be a bright red tattoo pattern-a skull spit out a snake from the mouth, it was the pattern that appeared in the Quidditch World Cup: the black devil mark. Voldemort looked at it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable sobbing.

The dark blood looks so weird and coquettish in the faint night.