Hogwarts: I am the White Lord

The rustling sound in the air became louder and louder. Harry lay stiffly on the ground, watching the hooded, masked wizards and witches appear one by one from the shadows.

They walked slowly and carefully, as if they couldn't believe what they were seeing.

Voldemort stood silently in the middle of the courtyard, his red snake pupils burning in the darkness. Although he said nothing, his aura was so overwhelming that everyone could not breathe.

Behind him, Little Barty and Peter stood straight with fanatical faces, as if they had received some supreme honor. They looked down at their returning companions with contempt and superiority in their eyes.

"Master..." With awe and fear, a Death Eater trembled and knelt on the ground, crawled to Voldemort on his knees, lowered his head and kissed the hem of his black robe.

The same went for the remaining Death Eaters, each of them repeating the same actions: kneeling, crawling, kissing, backing away, and then silently forming a large circle around Voldemort.

Voldemort looked around slowly, his scarlet eyes sweeping over everyone, as if examining their souls.

Although the night was still and windless, Harry could still hear a slight rustling, the sound of cloaks rubbing against each other, the sound of the Death Eaters' uncontrollable fear.

"Welcome, Death Eaters." Voldemort spoke in a low and cold voice. "After thirteen years, we are gathered together again."

There was no emotion in his tone, but it made everyone shudder, and some of the men in black robes trembled even more violently.

"I am pleased that you are still willing to accept the call of the Dark Mark. I am also happy to see that you are in good health and have powerful magic."

Voldemort said in a slow and dangerous tone: "But I still can't help but ask... Why? These people who swore allegiance to me didn't come to help me when I needed it most?"

"Perhaps," he whispered, "you all thought I was doomed, that I was killed by the Boy-Who-Lived, and you all rushed to proclaim your innocence, saying that you were under the Imperius Curse."

"Or maybe you have found a bigger backer, such as Dumbledore, the man who has always protected Muggles and Mudbloods."

"No one believed that I could make a comeback, even though they knew I had a way to prevent death. This made me very disappointed, or very disappointed."

Voldemort walked around and called out the names of the Death Eaters one by one, Avery, old Crabbe, old Goyle, McNeill, and old Nott.

Finally, he stopped in front of a Death Eater and said nonchalantly, "Lucius, is the maze map useful? I heard that your son won the championship of the competition using the map. That must be very glorious."

"The map..." Lucius was a little surprised, "I didn't know that was your arrangement, Master."

"It wasn't me, it was Little Barty. He arranged for someone to secretly sell the map to you, so that your son could lead the team to win the championship, so that they could finally present a top performance to the magic world and let the savior experience the despair of going from heaven to hell. To be honest, I am very satisfied with this arrangement."

"Master, you can trust me even more. If I had known that all this was related to you, I would have done everything I could to help bring the savior out."

"Really?" Voldemort grinned. "You haven't completely forgotten your original intention and are still willing to take the lead in torturing Muggles, just like you did in the World Cup final last year. But it would be better if you could learn from Barty Jr. and focus your energy on finding and helping me."

"Master," Lucius Malfoy said immediately, "I have been keeping an eye out for news about you, but unfortunately I have found nothing. Otherwise, I would have dropped everything and rushed to your side."

"Really?" Voldemort said with a smile. "Although you disappoint me, I am willing to give you a chance. I hope you will continue to be loyal to me in the future."

He continued to walk around, looking at everyone and said, "There are a few people missing here. Several of them are imprisoned in Azkaban, such as the Lestranges. When I break into Azkaban, they will be rewarded greatly."

"There are still some fools who don't have the courage to come to see me. They will be punished by me. Among them, there is no need for Karkaroff, this fool, to live since he can't even seize the last chance."

As he spoke, he slowly walked to Harry's side, a scornful arc appeared at the corner of his mouth: "You should have noticed that there is a special guest here - the famous savior Harry Potter."

"The legendary Boy-Who-Lived. People say he's my nemesis. I can't even touch him."

He bent down and slowly extended his long, pale fingers towards Harry's cheek.

"I couldn't touch him because his stupid Mudblood mother used an ancient magic, one that I should have remembered but ignored."

Voldemort's voice echoed in the night wind, with a gloomy indifference, and then his fingers suddenly exerted force and pressed hard on the lightning scar on Harry's forehead.

For a moment, Harry felt as if an ice spike had pierced his nerves. The intense pain blurred his vision and he could only grit his teeth to prevent himself from making any sound.

"But now," Voldemort added with a sneer, his voice as low as the hiss of a snake, "it doesn't matter, because now I can touch him."

"Besides, I can torture him severely, tearing out his heart and bones!"

Harry had never suffered such torture before. He felt like he was about to break apart. Even his paralyzed body could not withstand the pain. He was somewhat glad that he was in a paralyzed state, otherwise he would have twisted and turned in pain and made a terrible scene.

"You have all seen with your own eyes," Voldemort turned around and faced the Death Eaters surrounding him, his voice filled with triumphant satisfaction, "how outrageous the rumors that this boy is stronger than I am are."

"Barty, remove the restraints and paralysis from him, and return his wand to him."

"I want to completely eliminate the misunderstanding in your mind," Voldemort paced, his tone low but full of unquestionable meaning, "Harry Potter escaped from me not because he was stronger than me, but because of luck."

"But tonight, this luck will no longer exist," Voldemort raised his voice, "Right here, in front of all of you, I will kill this so-called savior with my own hands!"

He looked down at Harry, who was being fed the antidote by Barty Jr., and his tone was full of mockery: "Harry Potter, pick up your wand. I will give you a fair chance in the duel... After all, I am merciful."

Feeling the consciousness slowly returning to his body, Harry supported himself with his hands, slowly sat up, and slightly loosened his stiff wrist.

Just as Sebastian had guessed, Voldemort would indeed duel with him, this arrogant guy.

Don't rush to ask for help. If you don't cast a spell, you won't be able to swallow the anger in your heart. Besides, Voldemort will never let you die easily.

"Come on, Harry Potter! Don't tell me you don't have the courage to even pick up a wand. That would be boring!"

The Death Eaters burst into laughter, their eyes full of cruelty and mockery, looking at Harry as if he were a pig to be slaughtered. They knew that the Dark Lord would never let Harry Potter die easily. He would make this child feel endless pain and humiliation until he finally collapsed.

Harry let out a breath as he listened to Voldemort's sarcasm.

Scared?

How can it be!

I have practiced hard for this day.

He held the wand in his hand, then stood up suddenly and cast the most powerful spell in his mind at Voldemort at lightning speed.

"The Divine Edge is Shadowless!"