Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 855 - 226: Badge

Participate in the third match... through the Forbidden Forest... encounter Vid... touch the trophy... shrink and be pulled away by Vedra... Barty Crouch Jr. appears... Voldemort resurrects... the Dark Lord tempts Vid to pledge allegiance to him...

Harry suddenly turned his head, seeing Vid in child form bound to a long bench, his short arms and legs couldn’t even touch the ground, his small body locked in the wide chair, appearing weak and pitiful.

However, there was not much fear on the boy’s face, only full of amazement and a strong thirst for knowledge.

Remembering his own transformation process just now, Harry couldn’t help blushing, and subconsciously, he actually wanted to laugh—

It really was Vid!

Even at such a young age, the desire for knowledge seemed to overwhelm the fear of death.

He took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down, and slowly stood up, gripping his magic wand even tighter.

At this moment, he was not alone; he had the young Vid to protect.

To bring Vid back safely, he must remain calm and find a way to fight to the end.

"What do you want?"

Harry spoke, his voice steadier than he imagined, the emerald green eyes staring into the pair of blood-red snake eyes: "If you wanted to kill me, you could have done it long ago, there’s no need to restore me."

Voldemort’s lips curled up: "Very good, very sharp."

He walked gracefully around Harry: "Tonight is a beginning... and you, Harry Potter, the well-known Star of Salvation, will be the perfect witness to my return."

As Voldemort moved, Harry slightly turned his body with him, quickly glancing at Vid.

No way... Barty and the other two had moved next to Vid, he couldn’t take advantage of the opportunity to take Vid away...

Voldemort seemed completely unconcerned with his thoughts, pacing back and forth, speaking with a sentimental tone:

"The world thinks you’re my nemesis, but we both know the truth, don’t we? You’re just a ’lucky, surviving boy,’ and what kept you alive was actually your mother’s power..."

He spoke in a long tone: "Family always plays an unimaginable role when we least expect it."

"Just like your mother, who died to protect you; or my father... oh, I killed that mediocre man with my own hands... after his death, he served me well."

"Look, I’m a bit sentimental. But see, Harry, my real family has returned..."

In the distance, a faint "pop" sound and the rustling of cloaks, the Death Eaters Apparating according to the Dark Mark’s location, but still lingering around, unable to find the monastery’s position.

"Fidelius Charm..."

Voldemort’s face flashed with displeasure, he turned to the scar-faced man and ordered: "Bring those fools in."

At the same time, he waved his magic wand, and a piece of parchment with an address on it flew like it had wings into the scar-faced man’s hand.

The scar-faced man immediately bowed and then walked out.

A moment later, the broken gate of the monastery was pushed open, and a dozen hooded figures cowered as they walked in, all with hoods on, faces covered, their steps hesitant and slow.

Voldemort’s pupils constricted to a thin line—less than half of the people had arrived than he expected.

The sparse figures, almost all hunched over, did not look like Death Eaters threatening the world with terror, more like a bunch of unemployed drifters with sore backs after a night of binge drinking.

An awkward silence filled the air.

Voldemort suddenly let out a cold laugh, even Harry could feel that the Black Lord’s laughter was filled with murderous intent, his anger was accumulating, ready to explode in a terrifying manner at any moment.

At this time, a Death Eater suddenly stepped forward, deliberately changing his tone when speaking, his voice hoarse and unpleasant.

"Master... there’s, there’s an unexpected situation..."

He said uneasily, head bowed: "The broadcast... the broadcast didn’t stop..."

Voldemort’s body suddenly stiffened, Harry even saw the veins bulging under his pale skin. No one dared to speak in the entire church, even the sound of breathing was clearly audible.

Barty Crouch Jr. abruptly turned his head, glancing at the deactivated Flow Mirror he had privately shut off, beads of sweat instantly appearing on his forehead, his Adam’s apple rolling up and down, unable to make a sound.

His knees hit the ground heavily, his body trembling all over.

"What... did you say?" Voldemort did not look back at Barty, his voice terrifyingly light.

The Death Eater shivered, kneeling down: "The situation here has been... being broadcasted all along... everyone, everyone saw... your resurrection..."

Voldemort’s wand suddenly swung, its tip emitting a dazzling red light, and Barty, kneeling on the ground, was flung violently, crashing against the wall and sliding down.

"Cough, cough cough cough... M-master..."

Barty coughed, his body convulsing as he curled up on the ground.

Voldemort slowly approached him, a terrible calm on his face, but the veins under his skin thrummed as if alive.

"What did you do, Barty?"

Voldemort asked softly, his voice like a snake coiling around the throats of the surrounding Death Eaters.

Barty’s forehead hit the worn carpet heavily, he quivered as he said: "It was my mistake! I, I shut down the Flow Mirror on my own..."

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed slightly.

He never trusted anyone, but even Voldemort had to admit, Barty was one of his most loyal Death Eaters, possibly the most loyal.

The other loyal subordinates were all in Azkaban. Those left outside were unreliable opportunists, who, if he were weak and powerless, might very well turn against him.

But Barty... in the past year, he had countless opportunities to deal with the infant-like powerless Voldemort, or not assist in his resurrection, leaving the Dark Lord in a ghostly state of despair... but he didn’t, he remained loyal, putting in utmost effort, regardless of the Dark Lord’s state.

So Voldemort did not immediately vent his anger, but instead continued to ask: "Why? I always believed in your loyalty..."

"I, I wasn’t trying to betray," Barty said as he crawled to the Dark Lord’s feet, trembling from head to toe. He eagerly said: "I just didn’t want you to remember Ryan Smith, because I didn’t bring him back..."

Before the words were finished, Barty suddenly realized something wrong.

No matter how many filters he had for Voldemort, Barty actually knew clearly that this master he viewed as a father was in fact a cold-blooded, ruthless, merciless Dark Wizard.

How could he care about that shallow kid Ryan Smith? When Ryan lost his usefulness, Voldemort wouldn’t care about his life or death.

But just not long ago, Barty was convinced that Voldemort would be furious about it, and even his confidant might suffer from lost trust and status!

Because of this, Barty was so anxious and unauthorized to cut off Voldemort’s connection to the outside world, and secretly proud of his timely reaction.

How could this be?

Barty banged his head frantically, shouting: "Master! I understand now, it must be Dumbledore who did something to me... Imperio, yes, definitely Imperio..."

"Enough!"

Voldemort’s wand shot out a green light, brushing past Barty’s ear, blasting a large hole in the wall.

He took a deep breath, eerily calming down as he said: "Very well, since they’ve already seen..."

He waved his wand, reopening the Flow Mirror, seeing his own figure on the screen.

And in the eyes of the viewers, the next scene was even more bizarre, as if two Voldemorts were standing opposite each other, both showing dangerous smiles:

"Then let the whole world see the consequences of defying me."

Harry’s heart sank heavily.

Because at this moment, Voldemort’s gaze was on the innocent, bewildered Vid.

And even Harry could see that with the angle of that lens, the Mother Mirror must be right on young Vid!

At this moment, the robin emblem on the boy’s chest shimmered brightly.