"Enough!" Voldemort's expression was indifferent, his eyes were full of coldness, "Severus, you disappoint me!"
Then, he raised his wand—
"Crucio!"
Snape's face turned pale in an instant, and he fell heavily to the ground, shaking uncontrollably all over.
"This is just the beginning, Severus. Are you going to give up?" Looking at Snape's pale and trembling face, Voldemort cracked his mouth and revealed a morbid smile.
Then, he turned his head and looked at the Death Eaters sitting beside the long table. His expression became fierce again, "Did you see that? This is the result of betraying me!"
The entire meeting room in the bunker was silent. The Death Eaters were all terrified, leaving only Voldemort's eerie voice still echoing in the room.
At this moment, Snape's weak, depressed voice suddenly rang out in the meeting room -
"Master... I really didn't betray you..." Under the severe torture of the Cruciatus Curse, his voice was extremely low and hoarse, but it revealed an extreme firmness.
Seeing Snape's determined expression, Voldemort couldn't help but pause.
"Are you still being stubborn, Severus?" he asked softly.
"I'm not being stubborn... I'm just stating a fact..." Snape took a breath while Voldemort relaxed, and spoke while panting.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed, and although his expression remained as cold as ever, the Cruciatus Curse he was casting eventually stopped unconsciously.
"Forget it, just arrest him." He waved to the Death Eater beside him.
Snape did not struggle, allowing himself to be tied up tightly with ropes.
The meeting room fell into deathly silence again...
After this terrifying silence, a green flame rising from the fireplace broke the dead silence.
A very handsome black-haired young man walked out of the flames.
Seeing the newcomer, the expressions of all the Death Eaters present, even Voldemort himself, became somewhat subtle.
In the eyes of Voldemort and the Death Eaters, there were only two possible traitors on their side, and they were the only two people who could arrive in time and report the news to Dumbledore and Dracula in Hogwarts.
Severus Snape, now the Potions Professor, and Tom Riddle, Voldemort's doppelganger and assistant Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Only these two people who were originally in Hogwarts had the opportunity to inform Dracula in time, allowing him to arrive at the fortress of Azkaban before Voldemort.
Now, as long as it can be proven that Voldemort's clone did not betray the Death Eaters, it can basically be concluded that Snape is a traitor to the organization! At that time, no matter how hard he tries, it will be useless!
“Have you brought what I want?” Voldemort asked Riddle with a cold face. “I remember I said this is your last chance. I hope you can make good use of it!”
Riddle stared into Voldemort's scarlet eyes, then smiled slightly.
"I have accomplished my mission!" he said.
At the same time, Riddle took out a slender crystal bottle from his pocket, which was filled with bright red blood.
Perhaps because Voldemort had experienced Riddle failing to complete his tasks too many times, he could not help but reveal a surprised expression after taking the crystal bottle from Riddle's hand.
He pulled out the cap and stared at the blood in the bottle, examining it carefully.
“Yes, this is indeed Harry Potter’s blood.” Voldemort’s eyes revealed a suppressed ecstasy. “I can feel that there is also a kind of blood magic contained in it. It is a protective spell specifically for me.”
Then, he turned his gaze to Riddle who brought the blood, and waved his hand, "You did a great job this time. Is there any reward you want? Just ask, I will try my best to fulfill your wish!"
"I don't need any reward." Riddle smiled and shook his head slightly. "Your timely recovery of your peak strength is the greatest benefit to a clone like me."
Voldemort looked even more satisfied, and nodded approvingly to Riddle.
"Severus, do you have anything else to say now?" He looked at Snape who was tied up tightly and asked with some pride.
"I... still hold my previous opinion." Snape said firmly, "Remember to be careful of your clone..."
"It has come to this, and you still refuse to admit that you are an undercover agent?" Voldemort said coldly, "Severus, if you honestly admit it, I might even give you a chance to live because of your years of hard work."
"But if you are still so stubborn... I think you know that I have countless ways to make you live a life worse than death!"
"Admit it, Severus." Voldemort's voice was full of temptation. "Or... are these two words 'I admit' so difficult to express?"
"There's no point in admitting something you haven't done."
Snape's expression had become numb, but his psychological defenses were still very strong and he refused to admit the "fact" that he was an undercover agent.
“Good! You’re good!” Voldemort laughed in anger. “It seems I must let you see with your own eyes how I recover to my peak strength! You will regret leaving me!”
He clapped his hands.
A house-elf appeared in the meeting room carrying a huge cauldron that was two or three times larger than its body.
The house-elf took two steps back in fear when he saw Voldemort's distorted features and scarlet eyes.
Like many house-elves, this one was short, with bat-like ears, a long, thin nose, and prominent green eyes the size of tennis balls.
But what is different from other house-elves is that if you look closely, you may find that the elf's green eyes, as big as tennis balls, are not only filled with obedience to wizards, but also contain some yearning for freedom.
"Come here and place the cauldron in the middle of the table." Voldemort instructed it as a matter of course.
But the elf did not walk over obediently. Instead, it subconsciously took a step back while carrying the crucible.
“I asked you to come here!” Voldemort said more strongly, turning to look at Lucius. “Lucius, your house-elf seems to have some ideas of his own!”
Seeing the rebellious behavior of his own house-elf, Lucius became so anxious that his face almost turned green.
He stood up quickly and scolded loudly: "Dobby, the Dark Lord asked you to put the crucible over, didn't you hear?!"
The house-elf named Dobby was forced to walk to the middle of the long table after hearing his master's order, and put down the huge crucible in his hand with a look of struggle on his face.
"Go aside and punish yourself in front of the Dark Lord!" Lucius continued to scold.
Dobby choked out a comical sob and banged his head frantically against the wall.
"Bad Dobby... Bad Dobby... He didn't listen to his master..." The elf banged his head against the wall in pain, making a series of heavy noises.
At the same time, no one noticed that the house-elf Dobby was still whispering in a voice that no one else could hear:
"Bad Dobby... Bad Dobby helped the Dark Lord Who Must Not Be Named... But Dobby didn't have the courage to fight back..."
"Shut him up, Lucius," said Voldemort.
"Don't make any noise, Dobby!" Lucius said fiercely.
Dobby immediately shut his mouth and stopped banging his head against the wall, instead using four tiny fingers to silently tear at his ears.
Voldemort glanced at the house-elf and paid no more attention to it.
His attention was now entirely focused on the crucible that Dobby had brought over.
The other Death Eaters also stared at the huge crucible in front of them with curiosity, wondering what the Dark Lord wanted to do with it.
"Watch this, Severus." Amid the curious gazes of the Death Eaters, Voldemort suddenly said to Snape, "I know that you are skilled in potions, so I originally wanted to give this pot of potion to you... but you betrayed me."
"In that case... Avery!"
Avery, whose name was called, walked out with a smug look on his face and glanced at Snape with disdain. He was obviously very satisfied with having received such a credit for nothing.
"This potion is not difficult to brew. I hope you won't let me down." Voldemort said coldly.
Avery nodded confidently, raising his wand toward the great cauldron—
“Clear water like a spring (Aguamenti).”
A stream of water gushed out from the tip of Avery's wand at a rapid speed, and with a continuous splashing sound, the cauldron gradually filled with water -
The cauldron was so large that when filled with water it could completely submerge an adult sitting inside.
Voldemort looked at the cauldron filled with water, his eyes becoming more and more excited. He even failed to control his own magical aura, causing his black robe to flutter.
Avery waved his wand again, tapped and traced the bottom of the cauldron, and chanted another spell -
"Indio."
Crackling flames sprang up from under the crucible and the fire gradually grew larger.
Then Avery took out several pre-prepared potion ingredients from a bag and added them into the crucible.
After another complicated operation, the water in the crucible gradually turned into a green color and emitted bursts of strange and unpleasant smells.
The liquid in the crucible gradually took on the appearance of a potion.
Under Voldemort's eager gaze, the potion in the crucible did not disappoint him and heated up quickly.
Within two minutes, its surface not only began to boil, but also emitted intense sparks, as if it were on fire.
The steam became thicker and thicker, and the figures of the many Death Eaters present became blurred in the thick steam.
Voldemort's robes fluttered even more violently.
"quick!"
His sharp, cold voice revealed a strong sense of urgency, anticipation and fanaticism.
"It will be ready soon, Master." Avery wiped the sweat from his head and said tremblingly.
After all, he was not a potion master like Snape, and this potion, which was not difficult to make according to Voldemort, still consumed too much of his energy.
After a moment, the entire boiling water surface suddenly calmed down.
Bright and dazzling sparks flashed on the surface of the water, and emitting sparkling light in the thick steam, as if it was studded with diamonds.
"It's done, Master." Avery breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed his grip on the wand.
Snape, who was tied to the side, looked at him with disgust, as if he despised Avery's unprofessional way of brewing potions.
"It's now!"
Voldemort's sparkling scarlet eyes were filled with ecstasy, his distorted facial features became even uglier, and his entire face looked more like a flat snake face than ever before!
Looking at Voldemort's ugly face, Riddle on the side frowned slightly, with a trace of disgust in his eyes.
But Voldemort's attention was completely focused on the potion in front of him, and he did not notice anything unusual about Riddle.
He walked straight to the crucible, jumped lightly, and stood on the edge of the hot crucible.
Avery took a deep breath, knowing that the next process was more important than all the previous steps combined, and raised his wand without any hesitation.
"Father's bones, donated unintentionally, can enable your son to regenerate!" He said with a trembling voice at Voldemort's impatient signal.
As Voldemort stood on the edge of the crucible, wisps of gray smoke suddenly separated from his body and combined into the shape of a complete human skeleton above the diamond-like liquid.
Then, the skeleton fell gently into the crucible, and with a hissing sound, it sank gently.
The diamond-like liquid surface suddenly broke, the water surface crackled, sparks flew, and the liquid turned bright red and blue, looking like the most toxic poison in the world.
After separating the bones of his father, Tom Riddle Sr., Voldemort's figure suddenly became much more illusory.
He turned his cold eyes to Avery. Even though the figure was illusory, the powerful deterrent force still almost suffocated Avery.
Avery took a deep breath, raised his right arm tremblingly, and turned the wand in his left hand that was pointing at the crucible to his right hand.
"The flesh of a servant, donated voluntarily, can bring your master back to life..." he said with difficulty.
Then Avery closed his eyes—
"Diffindo."
He let out a scream of pain.
Then there was a chilling "plop" sound, and Avery's severed hand was thrown into the crucible.
The potion in the crucible immediately turned into a fiery red color. The strong light almost penetrated the thick steam in the meeting room, illuminating the shuddering expressions of all the Death Eaters...
Avery let out a gasp and a groan of pain.
He hastily treated the huge wound on his right wrist, then put down his wand, and with his remaining left hand, slowly took the bottle of Harry's blood from Voldemort.
"The blood of your enemies... forced to be given... can bring your enemies back to life!"
Avery poured Harry's blood into the cauldron.
The liquid in the crucible immediately turned a blinding white. The liquid was almost boiling again, and diamond-like sparks kept flying everywhere, extremely bright and dazzling, completely dispersing all the surrounding steam.
Avery completed his task and knelt beside Voldemort at the edge of the cauldron.
He covered his broken arm, looked up at the Dark Lord's satisfied and excited expression, and slowly breathed a sigh of relief. He knew he had done a great job.
At this moment, Riddle, who had been standing aside and watching for a long time, suddenly moved!
…
…