The Sphinx scratched the piece of paper out of his temples and threw it to the ground angrily.

Contact by letter?

What letter? Am I a Sphinx that can write letters?

and……

There is no reason for magical materials to write a letter to a wizard who is eyeing you covetously!

The Sphinx is a magical animal that is smarter than the Centaur.

It hesitated, but finally picked up the note carefully and stuffed it back into its hair. It couldn't give the wizard an excuse. What if he felt that his failure to accept the note was an insult to him, and then attacked him with a clear conscience?

Harry walked inside.

It is a narrower path with two separate paths at the end.

He looked to the right and saw a complex wave of magic.

Putting a layer of Quin on himself, Harry walked forward.

Outside the maze.

Ludo's voice was choking with sobs: "Mr. Potter is getting closer! He has always been sharp and has chosen the right path. As long as he walks this path and turns a corner, he will see the trophy."

The Gryffindors clenched their fists and held their breath, fearing that the movement outside the maze would affect Harry's performance inside.

Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley rubbed their sore necks from having their heads lifted for so long, but they were unwilling to put their heads down and stared at the curtain intently and meticulously.

Vernon turned pale.

Although he often told Penny at home that those freaks might teach some dangerous things in school - but he was just talking, who knew it would be true.

They literally let fifteen year olds deal with animals that looked extremely dangerous.

He held Petunia's hand tightly.

There was fear in Dudley's eyes. He had been very interested in Hogwarts. What if, just what if, he could become a wizard too.

But when he saw the blasting skrewt, he regretted it. Such a big crab...

Will it eat itself?

Moreover, with its large size, even if I could eat it, I would probably die from overeating.

Wizards are really dangerous.

He thought that the little wizards only needed to eat, drink and copy their cousin's homework in Hogwarts.

In the maze.

Harry continued walking forward, and when he turned the corner he saw the Triwizard Cup at the end of the road, right in the middle of the maze.

There was less than fifty meters between him and it.

As long as he brings it back, the Triwizard Tournament will be over.

Can……

What about the Death Eaters?

Just because they caught Coban Yaxley, they gave up their plan and threw away everything they had prepared for a year?

Does Senior Tom still have time to prepare for these things?

Or rather...

Does he still have the patience to wait?

Harry walked slowly in the maze, for materials and to avoid possible traps set by the Death Eaters, but he encountered nothing. It was like a normal trial.

The closer he got, the slower he became.

Ludo was a little anxious, and he kept slamming the table in anger: "What on earth is Mr. Potter doing? He was just one step short!"

"There are no magical creatures, and no other warriors to interfere."

Victory is so close, but why is the pace becoming slower?

Every minute he wasted would cost him a thousand Galleons!

Hurry up!

He was unable to convey his emotions to Harry and could only watch Harry walk the fifty meters distance for three or four minutes, casting a spell almost every step of the way.

He stood in front of the Tri-Power trophy.

The golden trophy was surrounded by the aura of dozens of spells.

There were the usual strength and dust-proofing charms, and some beauty charms that Harry had seen before but had not bothered to learn.

Harry waved his wand.

Feedback came back that there was no dangerous, vicious curse on the trophy.

In front of the chest, the amulet is also quiet.

There was no sense of uneasiness from my intuition.

He stretched out his hand and touched the top three trophy.

Outside the maze.

Ludo's cheers were deafening. He waved his wand and enlarged Harry's curtain. The alchemical props produced by George and Fred froze for only a moment, then immediately moved to meet the curtain again, filling the entire picture.

"Harry Potter!"

"The champion from Hogwarts is about to hold the Triwizard Cup. Please check the time. It only took 18 minutes and 32 seconds!"

"Within twenty minutes, he successfully lifted the trophy!"

There were cheers and sighs from the audience.

This was one of Mr. Bagman's bets.

"Will Mr. Potter be the first person to hold the Triwizard Cup, and how long will it take?"

Ludo smiled happily. In fifteen minutes or twenty minutes, this result had earned him more than three thousand Galleons.

He continued shouting, his tone smug, no longer feeling the anxiety he had before: "Based on Mr. Potter's previous speed, it can be predicted that he will return within ten minutes."

"It depends on what Mr. Krum and Miss Delacour can do for him..."

His words suddenly stopped and he stared at the curtain in disbelief. The words in his throat that he couldn't say choked him and made him cough violently.

In the referee's seat, Dumbledore also stood up suddenly with an extremely serious expression.

The audience was suddenly silent. The air was sucked away in an instant, leaving the place like a vacuum.

What happened in the maze was projected on the curtain.

The moment Harry's hands touched the trophy, they twisted and disappeared.

"Where is Harry?" Petunia was stunned and stammered, "Is this normal?"

Hermione clenched her fists and shook her head, "No, I'm afraid not."

"Where's Harry?" Vernon gestured to his nephew, "Why did he suddenly disappear?"

Hermione then explained: "Portkey."

"The Triwizard Cup was turned into a portkey and Harry was taken away."

She paused and said, "It was teleportation. Harry was teleported to another place."

Ron lowered his voice: "It's a conspiracy of the Death Eaters!"

Outside the maze, Snape, who was acting as an emergency rescuer, gritted his teeth and turned his head sharply to look at the referee's seat. There were only two people in his eyes - Dumbledore, who looked frighteningly serious, and Karkaroff, who seemed to be gloating.

He strode away.

Two bastards!

Why wasn't one discovered beforehand?

Why is the other one so reluctant to make up his mind and refuse to contact the Death Eaters!

The result is like this!

The portkey experience was not good.

The belly button was pulled, and the world was twisting and turning.

Fortunately, Harry had experienced it once before, so he was not as dizzy as the first time - almost at the moment of teleportation, he raised his hand and put on the Quen Seal for himself.

Blink and land.

Before Harry could see where he landed, his vision was filled with red and orange light - nearly ten spells were shot at him at the same time.

Crashing sound.

The shield that had just been put on his body shattered immediately.

In the senses, magic power was surging in front, and there was nothing on the left, right and back.

He immediately rolled backwards to dodge, and at the same time added the Quen shield to himself again. He waved the wand in his right hand and put the armor spell on his body.

The spells came like waves, one after another, coming at us impenetrably.

The shield that had just been restored was shattered again in less than three seconds.

However, these less than three seconds were enough to give Harry time to catch his breath.

He took in his surroundings.

The key brought him to an overgrown cemetery with a few dim torches in the distance. Outside the cemetery stood a tall fir tree, a low chapel, and a dilapidated house on a hill.

Familiar environment.

Harry was here not long ago.

The old Riddle house in Little Hangleton.

The spells were still attacking, but the accuracy was not good enough. Most of them grazed Harry's body and hit the ground, splashing up a cloud of dust.

and……

These spells seem so harmless.

They fell unconscious, were petrified, and the biggest threat they posed was just "Crucia", without even a killing curse.

After dodging and rolling several times, Harry hid behind a tombstone. Several spells followed, hitting the tombstone, causing it to shake and cracks to spread from the impact point.

"Thunder explosion!"

Someone roared and chanted a spell.

Harry waved his wand, and several nearby tombstones twisted and gathered in front of his hiding place, forming a huge stone slab, which was hit by the spell and shattered.

There are twelve enemies.

Most of them were Harry's "acquaintances", people he had met once at the Quidditch World Cup.

The only thing missing was the presence of one person - the man suspected to be "Barty Crouch Jr.", he did not appear here.

The curses continued to strike.

They were smart this time, working in groups of six, firing spells at him non-stop.

Harry was about to fight back.

A sharp and harsh voice sounded: "Alright, alright, stop it, since you didn't succeed in the sneak attack the first time, you should stop. Mr. Potter is not the kind of scumbag who is easy to deal with."

The voice is familiar.

It was the voice he heard in Quirrell's head during first grade.

It was Voldemort's voice.

"Senior Tom." Harry whistled in response, "So you've been planning for a year just to use the Portkey to send me here at the last moment of the Triwizard Tournament."

"Come to the grave of your father, Tom Riddle."

The voice came, with anger: "Mr. Potter, it seems you know a lot?"

"I know more than you think, I'm afraid," Harry replied quietly. "For example, when you were at Hogwarts, you used to sneak into the girls' bathroom every night."

The aura of the twelve Death Eaters fluctuated slightly.

"For example, when you just graduated, you used your beauty to seduce a sixty-year-old lady and tricked her into giving you money..."

The Death Eaters' aura fluctuated even more violently.

“That’s enough!” Voldemort was so angry that he interrupted him, “Mr. Potter, I didn’t expect you to gossip like a witch behind my back.”

Harry answered him, "I was just repeating what you did."

“That’s not important.” Voldemort tried to slow down his tone as much as possible, “Mr. Potter, I don’t want to be your enemy…”

"Is it because you feel you are no match for me now?" Harry interrupted him and asked bluntly.

The Death Eaters' auras wavered like a pirate ship.

Voldemort was startled, then calmed down, ignored the question, and continued: "How about we make a deal?"

"You seem to be looking for Avalon?"

This ordinary question was like an arrow piercing Harry's chest.

How...could he know?

Someone told him the news, who was it?

Snape, Professor Dumbledore's old lover, or someone else who he didn't know about but might have a private relationship with Voldemort?

No no no…

You have to believe them.

That's another possibility?

Harry replied briskly, "How could I not be interested in a place that the Big Four were pursuing back then?"

"Like you, I once followed the example of the Big Four and followed in their footsteps to search for Avalon." Voldemort said with some complacency in his tone.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

Sure enough, it was the information from the relics of the four giants.

"Of course, I am much better than them." Voldemort's voice became more and more proud. "I not only found the place that the four of them failed to find, but also entered it."

Harry narrowed his eyes slightly and said nothing.

Voldemort also fell silent.

The silent atmosphere was at a stalemate, and they were both waiting for the other to speak.

Voldemort was the first to lose patience: "Mr. Potter, aren't you curious about what's in Avalon?"

"Oh, what is it?" Harry said calmly, sounding reluctant as if to say "Okay, okay, just say it if you want to."

"Mr. Potter," Voldemort called out, "hiding behind a tombstone is not the right attitude for a conversation."

"Will you come out?"

"Let's face each other."

Harry sneered. "I was transported here by a portkey, and before I even landed I was attacked by a bunch of spells. I don't think this is the right attitude to welcome me."

"After all, we were not friends before." Voldemort was not embarrassed at all, "But if you prove your ability, maybe we can try to become friends."

Harry sneered, "You are such a coward."

"Do you want to exchange the news about Avalon with me?"

"Coban Yaxley told me that your plan for this year was to get me, but what you wanted should not be my life?"

The Death Eaters were restless.

Corban Yaxley?

That respected lord betrayed the great Dark Lord?

"I need your blood." Voldemort said bluntly, "Come out, just one or two drops will be enough, and I will tell you everything I know."

"Where's Avalon?"

"What's in Avalon?"

At this point, he paused for a moment and said, "I can tell you something in advance. It seems that there is an ancestor of your Potter family in Avalon."

"He has snake-like eyes, just like you."

Snake-like eyes?

Demon Hunter?

Geralt?

"Don't hide your thoughts from me." Voldemort sneered, "I know much more than you think, Big Four? You want to find Avalon for that ancestor, right?"

"How about it?"

“I think this deal is fair.”

"I only want a drop or two of your blood."

He paused, then increased the allure in his tone and continued to shout, "Mr. Potter, please come out and take a good look at me. See how weak I am. I can no longer do anything to you."

"I also promise you that I will not let my men attack you."

"Come out."