After Barty Crouch walked out of the room, he looked around to make sure that there were no people or snakes around, then he took out a kettle from his arms, twisted the lid and took a big gulp.

The drink in the kettle didn't taste very good. After Buddy drank it, his body trembled unnaturally. After a jolt, he wobbled through the dark corridor to find Nagini.

After passing through the dark corridor, there is a stone staircase covered with dust, and the dust on it is so thick that walking on it will not make any sound. As Barty walked, he used the faint fluorescence of the wand tip to find Nagini's figure.

He was serious, he really needed to find Nagini and get some venom from her mouth to concoct a potion for Voldemort to keep him alive.

But when he got to the landing, he stopped and an old man on crutches appeared before him.

When the old man saw that the intruder was an adult man, he was also stunned. He wanted to say something, but saw the man very anxiously put his index finger to his mouth and motioned him not to make a sound.

The old man on crutches was naturally Frank. Holding the spare key of the mansion, he entered through the back door and came to look for the "little thief" who broke into the mansion. When he saw Barty Crouch, he thought Riddle House was really a burglar!

However, Barty's action awakened his fighting instinct that had been dormant for many years. He closed his mouth and didn't make a fuss, but his left hand, who was leaning on the crutches, still unconsciously squeezed the crutches tightly. He believed that even though he was almost seventy-seven years old, it would be fine to blast a young man's head with a cane.

Barty nervously took the old man to the corner of the stairs and asked in a low voice, "Did you see a big snake on the road?"

Frank: ?

"Uh, no." Old Frank decided to answer despite the odd question.

Barty breathed a sigh of relief, "That's good, you go back quickly, this is not the place you should be-"

"Go back, me?" Frank was a little surprised. "Do you know what you're doing? You broke into the house illegally. I can give the police a call and send you to jail—"

"Everything is forgotten!" Barty emptied the old man's memory. He now thinks the spell is very useful, enough to rank in the top 10 of the magic spells used by wizards.

The old man's expression became confused, and Barty slipped away quietly.

It took more than ten seconds for Frank to wake up. He looked at the surrounding environment blankly, and found that he appeared in the old house of Riddle inexplicably.

"When did I get more sleepwalking problems?" He shook his head and limped away from the long-abandoned house.

Shortly after the old man left, Batty also found Nagini in the fireplace in the living room on the first floor of the house, enjoying the mouse she had caught. Barty watched patiently as Nagini swallowed the rat, then took out a small crystal vial and squeezed a vial of venom from her fangs.

When he returned to the second floor, Peter had already prepared the potion. He poured the venom into the bottle and shook it a few times to allow the liquid inside to fully merge. Then Peter took the potion bottle and carefully came to Voldemort.

Voldemort opened his slender eyes while closing his eyes. His eyes were completely different from normal human beings. They were small and long, with sharp pupils, like snake pupils. What was even weirder was that his eyes were filled with scarlet red. The color of his eyes, as if his eyes were filled with blood instead of tears.

He opened his mouth slightly and let Peter pour the potion into a silver spoon and feed it into his mouth. The entrance of the potion brought a biting chill. If it was taken by ordinary wizards, it would only kill him with poison, but if Voldemort drank it, it would have the effect of fighting poison with poison. Not only can it restore physical strength, but it can also use the chill to relieve physical pain.

Voldemort only felt refreshed as he felt the cold current flowing to his limbs, and thinking about Barty's actions soon after, he couldn't help laughing sullenly.

Two hundred miles away, the boy named Harry Potter woke up from a dream.

He lay on the bed, the scar on his forehead throbbing and hurting, as if someone had inserted a thin steel needle into his head.

Harry struggled to get up from the bed, covering the scar with one hand - which seemed to ease his pain a bit, and groping around in the dark with the other hand, and finally found himself on the bedside table by the bed. glasses.

After putting on the glasses, the world around me became clear.

Only then did Harry realize that he was in a cold sweat, the sheets were wrinkled, and sticky together with the pajamas, giving people a very uncomfortable feeling.

Harry tore off his pajamas, rolled off the bed, and opened the window.

The cool night wind poured in from the window, quickly drying the sweat remaining on Harry's body, making him feel refreshed. The tingling sensation from the scar on the forehead also evaporated along with the sweat.

"How many times is this?" Harry was a little disturbed. Recently, there has been frequent tingling sensations from his scars, but the pain comes and goes quickly, sometimes it only hurts for a moment, like someone stabbed him in the forehead with a needle.

Harry peered through the window, looking out at Privet Drive. The outside world looks like a standard British middle-class residential area: the streets are clean and tidy, the street lights are all working normally, and the lawns of every household are neatly manicured.

All of them are decent gentlemen who couldn't be more decent.

I'm afraid this is one of the reasons why the Dursleys dislike Harry: the word magic can't be in the ears of decent people~lightnovelpub.net~ Harry made his bed, smoothed the top sheet, and put the Towels were spread out to dry with the pajamas. Now they were soaked in sweat and it would be very uncomfortable to lie on, so Harry had absolutely no intention of going back to bed and resting.

He tiptoed to his desk and turned on the lamp on the desk.

Table lamps illuminate the room, revealing all the interior arrangements. At the foot of Harry's bed was a box that was closed but not fully closed, and a broom handle with a corner of a wizard's robe protruded from it. Most of the space on his desk was occupied by a large empty birdcage. This is Hedwig's cage, where he rests when he's not delivering letters. On the edge of the cage is a large pile of spell books, stacked so high that if one is not careful, it will cause a "tragedy". In the corner of the table, there are random stuffed with parchment, quills, ink bottles and other sundries.

Harry's situation was actually improving. In the second grade, he did not have the right to use his luggage in an open manner. He could only steal his luggage from the broom room on the first floor and quietly do his homework at night.

Now, he can do his homework with integrity. This may be thanks to his success in blowing up his aunt.