Chapter 704
Shrinking and Expanding
Chapter 704 Shrinking and Expanding
"Click!"
In the stands, Lucius Malfoy's brand-new silver serpent cane fell to the ground. His face, which always maintained an arrogant and indifferent demeanor, was now bloodless, and his eyes were fixed on the figure of the man on the screen.
Narcissa's long, slender fingers gripped the armrest of the seat tightly, her meticulously manicured nails leaving deep scratches on the expensive wood.
Draco, sitting next to them, reacted most directly. Like a frightened little animal, his gray eyes widened in terror, and fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead.
When he saw young Harry Potter bound to the resurrected Voldemort, his Adam's apple bobbed noticeably, and his face turned ashen.
Amidst the screams and panic of the audience, the family's reaction did not seem out of place; in fact, they could be described as calm by comparison.
Lucius bent down and slowly picked up his cane. As he straightened up, he quickly glanced around at the people and said in a low voice, "Remember what we talked about, Draco."
“But Dad…” Draco cried out urgently, as if the pain of his father’s disappearance had resurfaced from the depths of his heart.
Narcissa pulled her son closer to her, covered his eyes with her cool fingers, and said softly, "No matter what happens, our family will always be together."
She gazed at her husband, their eyes conveying a silent understanding.
“I’m alright, Mom.” Draco pulled his mother’s hand down and said in a trembling voice, “I…I want to watch.”
Lucius held his wife's hand and whispered, "No matter what, I will protect you."
Narcissa pursed her lips and nodded slightly, her eyes revealing a worry she couldn't express.
Beside him, Lucius Malfoy looked ahead, and whether by coincidence or not, Dumbledore's gaze also happened to sweep over them.
The two looked at each other briefly before looking away.
……
Voldemort had no idea that his meticulously planned resurrection ritual was being witnessed by audiences all over the world.
In this Dark Lord's mind, even if the audience would be terrified and worried by the sudden disappearance of the two contestants, most people's focus would be on the security arrangements for the competition, and the British Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore would bear most of the pressure for it.
Next, even if Dumbledore wanted to do something, Fudge would do his best to suppress the situation in order to quell the matter as soon as possible.
He would explain the disappearance of the two as "an accident with the Portkey" or "a minor wizard's spell was miscast, causing interference with the teleportation, with the destination unknown, and the Ministry of Magic will do everything in its power to rescue them," gradually downplaying the impact of the incident.
And he, the great Dark Lord, will gather power in the shadows, summon his subordinates, and create more undead. When he reappears, the whole world will tremble!
"Ha ha ha ha……"
Voldemort laughed triumphantly, his snake-like face twisted with smugness, his long, narrow red pupils shrinking into thin slits with excitement.
"Master! Master!"
Barty instinctively knelt on the ground, his whole body trembling with excitement. His mutilated wrist was still dripping blood, but he seemed not to feel the pain, and he tightly gripped Voldemort's robe with his other hand.
"You're finally back! We've waited so long for this moment!"
Voldemort stretched out his pale, slender fingers and gently stroked Barty's head, then raised his wand and waved it in the air.
The tip of the wand drew a silvery-white streak, as bright as moonlight. It twisted and turned into the shape of a human hand, then fell down and automatically settled on Little Barty's wrist.
Little Barty stared fascinated at his novice hand, his fingers moving freely as if it were an integral part of his body.
"It's so beautiful! Master, it's absolutely beautiful!" Little Barty excitedly cradled the volcano's robe and kissed it reverently. "Thank you... thank you... I would give you everything! My life, my soul!"
“I hope your loyalty remains as steadfast as ever,” Voldemort said with satisfaction. “Of course… I will, my master…” Barty said, tears streaming down his face, his voice hoarse.
"Stretch out your arm," Voldemort commanded.
Barty immediately and without hesitation stretched out his left arm, pulled his sleeve up to his elbow, revealing a bright red pattern—the Dark Mark.
Voldemort pressed his long, thin index finger onto Barty's arm.
In an instant, Little Barty groaned, a look of pain on his face, and the mark on his arm turned black.
At the same time, Harry cried out in pain as a sharp pain shot through the scar on his forehead.
Voldemort seemed to only then remember that he was still there. He turned around and looked at the child being held in the scarred man's hand, a cruel glint in his eyes.
"Restore him to his original state," Voldemort ordered. "After all... he's the most important guest tonight."
Wade's eyes widened instantly, and he watched their next move intently.
The tattooed woman walked towards Harry, took out a golden water bottle, kept a careful distance, and then stretched out her arm, tilting the bottle down directly above Harry's head.
Golden mist enveloped Harry's body like quicksand, and he stared at it with wide eyes, forgetting even to close them.
Soon, the boy began to groan and convulse in pain in the mist. Just when Wade thought his body would rapidly swell and grow larger, it contracted!
His body grew smaller and smaller, his limbs became shorter and shorter, all the ropes binding him slipped off and fell down, his black hair shrank back into his head, and his cheeks became chubby.
"Wow--!"
He opened his mouth and let out a loud cry!
Wade's mouth dropped open—
Harry has turned into a baby!
Just as he was wondering if the chubby-looking baby would continue to transform into a fertilized egg, it suddenly shrunk back to its original size!
The tattooed woman quickly turned the kettle upside down, and the steam was sucked into the kettle with a "whoosh" and disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Fourteen or fifteen-year-old Harry sat on the ground, panting heavily. The clothes that had previously looked like a bathrobe were hanging crookedly on his body, and his glasses were nowhere to be found.
He shook his head vigorously, trying to clear his mind, seemingly still not understanding the current situation.
"Welcome back, Harry Potter."
Voldemort's voice carried a chilling pleasure: "Unlike that ignorant child, you are now worthy to speak with me."
He waved his hand, and the scarred man immediately stepped forward, throwing his glasses, wand, and the clothes he had previously left on the ground in front of Harry.
Harry's arm trembled weakly from the deformity. He quickly dressed, put on his glasses, and the world finally became clear again.
The moment he grasped the holly wand, a warm current spread from his palm throughout his body.
My memories have finally been fully restored.
(End of this chapter)