A Change of Heart

Chapter Five

Voldemort was once again alone in his room. Dumbledore had learned of his return. But fortunately, the minister was not convinced. He smiled, a thin humourless smile. Snape had once again proved his worth. By not coming to him immediately, he'd proven his intelligence as also his quick thinking. And Voldemort always valued that in his men. Merlin knew most of them did not have any thinking capacity.
But what they had was loyalty and devotion to him. And they would have it as long as he was powerful enough to give them a share of power. True loyalty was rare. And that was why he mourned what happened to Barty Crouch. A Dementor's kiss was not a good way for a wizard to end. For, Barty's life was as good as over.
Voldemort frowned as he looked at himself in the mirror again. His eyes were changing. The red was fading to brown. And it seemed as if his body was not all that was changing. For, his regret about Barty was quite uncharacteristic. It was not the first time he had lost a follower. But he had never mourned for any of them. His frown deepened. What was happening to him?
He turned from the mirror. His appearance was changing. There was nothing he could do about it. He wondered if his Horcruxes were safe. Was that why his appearance was changing? He shrugged. It was highly unlikely. He had studied about Horcruxes. He knew that destruction of one would simply destroy the piece of soul contained in it. That piece of soul was never going to return to him.
Which meant that one piece of his soul was gone forever. His lips thinned grimly. Potter had destroyed the diary. But Lucius had given him the opportunity. He had specifically given the diary to Lucius for safekeeping. He had not expected that Lucius would try to use it to settle his score with Arthur Weasley.
Lucius had to pay for it. It was not in Voldemort's nature to forgive or to forget. Lucius would definitely pay for it. But at the moment, he was necessary to Voldemort. Malfoy gold it was that kept the palms of ministry officials so well-greased that not a whiff of suspicion would ever be directed at him.
Voldemort smiled grimly. Lucius had so graciously offered him the use of Malfoy Manor. Perhaps it was time he accepted that invitation. And then he had to find out a way to enter the Department of Mysteries. He had to hear the prophecy. And then he would know how Potter escaped him. And how to destroy him. But did he want that anymore?
Somehow, thinking of Potter did not fill him with rage or chagrin this time. He had to hear the prophecy, but he was not so certain he would use it to destroy Potter anymore.
Voldemort knew exactly where Potter was. He was in Little Whinging. But the exact location was hidden from him. Dumbledore had used a variation of blood magic to shield the boy. A combination of blood and love magics that Voldemort had never bothered to learn much about.
He sat down in his chair. Malfoy Manor had an extensive library. Perhaps it was time he researched on a different brand of magic. After all, he was Lord Voldemort. He could not be ignorant of any kind of magic.