On the other side of the tent, Mr. Weasley bandaged Harry's wound.

"Just a simple cut, no magic remains... Mr. Sly gave Harry a brief check while dressing.

It's interesting to say, many people were injured, but Mr. Weasley's biggest concern was not his own children, but Harry, and his children also took it for granted.

After all, that was Harry, the boy who survived.

"But why do you need Harry's blood?" Charlie dealt with his wounds and repaired the torn shirt.

"It may be for a curse or something. I heard my colleagues say that some curses require blood as a medium... Bill is on the side to help everyone analyze the possibility.

"Well, there's something I don't know if I should say it." Harry remembered what the kidnapper said when he was taking blood. It feels a little scary to say it, but if you don't say it, it will be troublesome if you make a mistake.

"Go ahead." Mr. Weasley handed Harry a cup of hot chocolate and looked at Harry encouragingly.

"Is such that

Harry repeated what the mysterious man had said when he took the blood.

"The blood of the enemy, forced to give, can make your enemy... sigh alive?" Mr. Weasley repeated this sentence, his face suddenly changed.

Who is Harry's enemy? Which of his enemies needs to be resurrected? The answer is ready.

Mystery man.

He is Harry's nemesis, and is currently preparing for a comeback and a comeback.

The slightly smarter people on the side also guessed this possibility.

Mr. Weasley tried his best to stabilize his emotions. "That is probably the accomplice of the parade group, but his efforts are destined to be in vain - maybe it can be realized in a dream."

The tense atmosphere around him dissipated a lot. Yes, this is the resurrection of the mysterious man. How can ordinary wizards achieve this level of magic?

"I will write back and ask Dumbledore to see if there is any curse that requires blood as a medium. Harry, don't worry, no one will hurt you." Mr. Weasley laughed.

Hearing Dumbledore's name gave everyone a sense of relief. Then everyone tacitly ignored the topic.

"Who's in the parade tonight?" Harry took a sip of hot chocolate and felt a lot better, even his arms didn't hurt so much.

"Death Eaters." Bill explained to Harry, "that is, the believers of the mysterious man."

"How about the Roberts family?" Hermione was more concerned about the victim's family than the strange behavior of the Death Eaters

"It's not very good. It's very exciting for them tonight. It's difficult for them to forget about it. The behavior of their family may be a little weird." Mr. Weasley sighed, with sympathy. said the tone.

Hermione took a gulp of chocolate. "Will they be compensated then?"

"Compensation?" Mr. Weasley was a little stunned, and seemed to have never considered it from this angle. "There should be no compensation from the Ministry of Magic. There is no precedent for this."

In the end, it's too lazy to care, it's just a family of Muggles. The Ministry of Magic doesn't want compensation, and can find a thousand excuses.

Hermione and the Grangers fell silent, gulps down the hot drink in their hands.

This time, the slightly relaxed atmosphere in the tent became more rigid, and even Delixi closed his mouth, holding a teacup as a background board quietly. Mr. Weasley stood up and, in the authority of the head of the household, drove everyone back to their beds.

Go to bed now, and still sleep for a few hours before dawn, and when you wake up, you can take the door key and go home.

Harry crawled back into his bed, his head buzzing. He tried hard to fall asleep, but couldn't sleep through the night. After he turned countless times on the bed, he finally fell asleep in a daze.

Harry had a very strange dream. In the dream, he seemed to have turned into a baby and was carried to a cemetery.

The man holding him seemed unprofessional and made him uncomfortable, but somehow Harry felt an ecstasy deep inside himself. He couldn't tell why, he just wanted to laugh.

Finally, "Harry" stopped in front of a tall marble tombstone, and he could vaguely see the name on the tombstone: Tom Riddle.

Tu Ye felt that "himself" was put on the ground, and now he could see the face of the person holding "himself".

It's Wormtail!

Harry was so shocked that he almost felt like he was awake.

Wormtail dragged a man-high stone cauldron out of nowhere, and Harry felt a surge of excitement.

Wormtail crouched on the edge of the cauldron and drew with his wand, eventually raising a flame under the cauldron. Especially for such a huge pot, it takes a long time to boil. But this pot is obviously not water, but some kind of potion.

The liquid in the pot boiled quickly, a large stream of steam came out, and countless sparks burst out.

Harry felt "himself" being picked up by Wormtail and got closer to the cauldron.

"Wait, wait a _" Harry himself panicked: this liquid, it looked very hot, and Wormtail threw "himself" in it to kill this little life? And even more weird, ha Li felt that he, or the self in the dream, was very depressed. The two emotions of fear and excitement were intertwined, which was a very similar experience.

Sure enough, Wormtail threw itself in.

grunt

Harry didn't feel the joy of being scalded by boiling water, nor did he feel suffocated by being submerged in water. He seemed to have returned to the fetal period, back to the warm amniotic fluid.

It was really comfortable, Harry almost fell asleep, but when he was still awake in the dream, he couldn't sleep, like a spectator, a spectator.

Through a layer of liquid~lightnovelpub.net~ Harry could still hear the sound of Wormtail outside.

"Father's bone, donated inadvertently, can regenerate your son!"

A small strand of black stuff was thrown into the cauldron.

"The flesh of a servant, donated voluntarily, may regenerate your master."

A hand with a missing finger also fell in, and Harry could not wait to take a deep breath. Peter Pettigrew is so ruthless? He cut off his own hand directly?!

Across the water, and it was late at night, Harry couldn't really see it, and if it was in the dim light, he would have noticed that the hand didn't seem as fresh as it had just been cut.

Just as Harry was in a daze, a strand of blood also melted into the liquid in the cauldron.

Harry felt it was dawn.

Everything around was dazzling white, the liquid was slowly rolling, and Harry felt itchy all over his body

Go to bed first, second later