Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 854 - 225: Shrinking and Expanding

"Clatter!"

On the stands, Lucius Malfoy’s brand new Silver Snake Wand fell to the ground. His face, always maintaining a proud and indifferent expression, was now completely drained of color, his eyes fixed on the figure of the man on the screen.

Narcissa’s slender fingers abruptly clenched the armrest of her seat, leaving deep scratches on the expensive wood with her meticulously manicured nails.

Sitting beside them, Draco had the most direct reaction; like a frightened young animal, his gray eyes widened in terror, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

When he saw the young Harry Potter bound beside the resurrected Voldemort, his Adam’s apple visibly moved, his face pale as paper.

Amid the screams and fleeing of the audience, the reactions of this family did not seem particularly abrupt; compared to others, they could even be called calm.

Lucius bent down and slowly picked up the wand. When he straightened up, he swiftly scanned the people around and quickly said in a low voice, "Remember what we talked about, Draco."

"But father..." Draco called out urgently, the pain from his father’s past disappearance seemed to resurge from the depths of his heart.

Narcissa pulled her son closer to her side, covering his eyes with her cool fingers, and said softly, "No matter what happens, our family will always be together."

She gazed at her husband, her eyes conveying a silent understanding.

"I’m fine, mother." Draco pulled his mother’s hand down, trembling as he said, "I... I want to watch."

Lucius held his wife’s hand, murmuring, "No matter what, I will protect you both."

Narcissa pressed her lips together, nodding slightly, her eyes filled with unspeakable worry.

Beside him, Lucius Malfoy looked ahead, and coincidentally or not, Dumbledore’s gaze happened to sweep over here as well.

The two had a brief moment of eye contact before each looked away.

...

Voldemort had no idea that his carefully orchestrated resurrection ritual was being witnessed by the entire global audience at this moment.

In the mind of the Dark Lord, even if the audience would feel shocked and worried due to the sudden disappearance of the two contestants, most of their focus would be on the safety setup of the tournament, and the British Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore would bear the brunt of the pressure.

Next, even if Dumbledore wanted to do something, Fudge would try his best to suppress the situation for a quick resolution.

He would explain the disappearance of the two as an "accident with the Portkey" or "an underage wizard’s spell error causing space transfer interference, with an unknown landing point, the Ministry of Magic will make every effort to rescue," gradually diluting the incident’s impact.

And he, the great Dark Lord, would accumulate power in the shadows, gather his followers, create more Inferi, and when he reappeared, the entire world would tremble!

"Hahahaha..."

Voldemort laughed triumphantly, his snake-like face twisted with pride, and his long, narrow red pupils contracted into thin slits from excitement.

"Master! Master!"

Barty Crouch Jr. instinctively knelt on the ground, trembling with excitement. His mutilated wrist was still bleeding, yet he seemed not to feel the pain, clutching Voldemort’s robe with his other hand.

"You’ve finally returned. We’ve waited so long for this moment!"

Voldemort extended his pale, slender fingers, gently stroking the top of Barty’s head, then raised his wand, waving it in the air.

The tip of the wand traced a silver-white band of light, as bright as moonlight, oscillating and forming into the shape of a human hand, which then settled automatically onto Barty’s wrist.

Barty gazed in fascination at his new hand, flexing his fingers without any hindrance, as if it had always been a part of his body.

"It’s magnificent! Master, it’s truly magnificent!" Barty exclaimed, lifting and reverently kissing Voldemort’s robe. "Thank you... Thank you... I’m willing to offer you everything! My life, my soul!"

"I hope your loyalty remains steadfast, unwavering," Voldemort said with satisfaction.

"Of course... of course I will, my Master..." Barty choked out, tears streaming, his voice hoarse.

"Extend your arm," ordered Voldemort.

Barty immediately extended his left arm without hesitation, pulling up his sleeve to reveal a bright red mark—the Dark Mark.

Voldemort pressed his slender forefinger onto Barty’s arm.

In an instant, Barty grunted, a look of pain spreading across his face, as the mark on his arm turned pitch black.

At the same time, Harry cried out in pain, a sharp ache searing across the scar on his forehead.

It was as if Voldemort only now remembered that Harry was still present, turning to look at the child held by the scarred man, a sadistic glint flickering in his eyes.

"Restore him to his original state," Voldemort instructed. "After all... he is the most important guest tonight."

Vid’s eyes instantly widened, watching intently as the group carried out the next steps.

The tattooed woman approached Harry, taking out the Golden Teapot, cautiously maintaining her distance, then extending her arm, pouring directly over Harry’s head.

The golden mist flowed down like sand, covering Harry’s body from head to toe. His eyes widened at the sight, forgetting even to blink.

Soon, the boy moaned and convulsed in pain within the mist. Just as Vid thought Harry’s body would swell and expand, he shrank instead!

His body became smaller and smaller, his limbs shorter and shorter, the ropes binding him slipped off completely, his black hair receding into his head, and his cheeks became chubby.

"Waaaah—!"

He opened his mouth and let out a loud, piercing cry!

Vid’s jaw dropped—

Harry had turned into a baby!

Just as he wondered whether this plump-looking baby would continue regressing to an embryo, there was a "pop," and he instantaneously reverted to his original size!

The tattooed woman quickly flipped the teapot, the mist "whooshing" back inside, disappearing in a flash.

The fourteen or fifteen-year-old Harry sat on the ground, panting, the robe he was wearing lopsided on his body, his glasses nowhere to be found.

He vigorously shook his head, struggling to clear his mind, seemingly unaware of his current situation.

"Welcome back, Harry Potter."

Voldemort’s voice held a chilling delight, "Unlike that ignorant and naive child, you now are worthy to converse with me."

With a wave of his hand, the scarred man stepped forward, tossing the glasses, wand, and clothes scattered on the ground in front of Harry.

Harry’s arms trembled weakly from the transformation, and he quickly dressed, donned his glasses, and the world finally came back into focus.

As he grasped the Holly Wand, a rush of warmth spread from his palm through his body.

Memories finally returned completely.