Christmas at Hogwarts usually meant a short holiday break.
Consequently, Victor Wick found himself with a rare bit of free time, no longer burdened by the demands of teaching.
The British winter was always uncomfortably cold.
Lucky had grown increasingly reluctant to go outside. He would drag his little bed to the fireplace and lie there, half-asleep.
Victor felt much the same way. He had placed a large, plush sofa in front of the fire.
He lay on the soft cushions, basked in the warmth of the hearth, and lazily flipped through the manuscripts in his hands.
By now, aside from Snape's ongoing research, all the magic he required had been completely reconstructed.
His previous study of magical beast carcasses had merely been preparation for the first phase of his experiments.
However, as he faced this first step, Victor felt an unusual surge of nerves.
This was because the first stage involved attempting to summon a soul.
He needed to confirm whether this initial step could successfully call forth the target's spirit.
If he failed here—by either failing to summon anything or by bringing back the wrong soul—then all subsequent steps would be impossible.
Beyond the worry of success or failure, another factor contributed to Victor's anxiety: his fear of the unknown.
While researching Grindelwald, he had learned about the Deathly Hallows.
A powerful wand, a Resurrection Stone, and an Invisibility Cloak.
Currently, that powerful wand was in Dumbledore's possession, while the cloak had been passed on to Harry.
As for the Resurrection Stone, Victor had no idea of its whereabouts.
However, having witnessed the power of that wand, Victor couldn't help but wonder if the legends surrounding the Hallows were true.
According to myth, all three items originated from Death himself...
If the legend was true, then Death existed. And if Death existed, would snatching someone from his domain incur his wrath?
Aziraphale and Crowley had repeatedly emphasized that resurrecting someone in this world required a price—a trade.
Yet, they had never specified who that trade was made with.
Victor felt he should be fully prepared before attempting the experiment to ensure nothing went wrong.
For instance, he could bring both the angel and the demon to his side. If anything happened, he would have help.
Thus, Victor finally had to leave the house.
After a brief conversation with Dumbledore through the two-way mirror, he reluctantly donned his thick outer robe and left the warmth of his room.
Lucky only spared his master a brief glance as he departed, no longer pestering Victor to go out with him as he used to.
It was simply too cold outside...
Voldemort was currently feeling quite energized. In fact, he hadn't felt this spirited in years.
There was no doubt that the Christmas gift Victor had provided was far more suitable than he had ever imagined!
He could feel his fragmented soul gradually stabilizing. He no longer needed to make Quirrell drink those ineffective potions, yet he could maintain this clear-headed state for long periods.
Voldemort realized that the soul power Victor had cultivated would be of immense help even after his eventual resurrection.
He secretly resolved that regardless of Victor's true loyalty, he had to keep such a talent close to him!
The world is driven by profit. He believed that as long as he provided enough benefits, Victor would continue to cooperate with him.
In time, perhaps his soul—split so many times for the creation of Horcruxes—could be restored to wholeness.
At that point, he might even be able to create new Horcruxes!
Five Horcruxes were far from the limit of his ambition!
Controlling Quirrell's body, Voldemort slowly walked out of Hogwarts Castle, feeling the biting snowflakes land on his face.
Voldemort took a deep breath, feeling the cold air fill his lungs.
It had been a very long time since he had been able to experience the world through a physical body so freely.
Without warning, a strange sense of melancholy rose in his heart...
Voldemort frowned. Previously, his mind had only been occupied by the desire for power and survival. Why was he feeling this today?
However, he soon brushed the confusion aside, for he spotted several boys playing by the Black Lake.
They seemed to be having a snowball fight, and among them was his enemy—Harry Potter.
If it weren't for this boy, he wouldn't have fallen to his current state.
Rage and hatred surged within Voldemort's heart.
With a cold expression, he slowly approached the boys, his hand in his pocket tightly gripping Quirrell's wand.
Had he not needed to maintain his cover to secure the Philosopher's Stone, he would have fired a Killing Curse then and there!
As Voldemort's thoughts wandered, Harry spotted him—or rather, spotted the body of Quirrell.
A flicker of joy crossed Harry's face. Since Snape's last threat to Quirrell, he hadn't seen the kind and responsible, if somewhat timid, professor for quite some time.
"Good day, Professor Quirrell," Harry called out warmly as he ran over to greet him.
For the Christmas holidays, Neville, Ron, and Hermione had all gone home.
Only Harry had been unwilling to return to the Dursleys, and since Sirius had been busy with unknown matters lately, Harry couldn't spend the holiday with his godfather.
Despite his disappointment, Harry had stayed at the school.
Besides, it gave him a chance to see if Snape would try to cause trouble during the break.
Voldemort forced down his hatred, a thin smile appearing on his face. "Good day, Potter. Why didn't you go home?"
"I didn't want to. I feel like Hogwarts is more like my home," Harry said with a smile.
Upon hearing those words, Voldemort suddenly felt a pang of resonance.
He hadn't wanted to return to that wretched orphanage either! Although he never said it aloud, Voldemort felt that Hogwarts was where he truly belonged.
This was also why, after accidentally causing the death of a girl, he had driven the Basilisk back into the Chamber to ensure the school wouldn't be closed down.
Looking at it this way, he and Harry Potter actually shared some common ground. However, the tragedy of this boy's parents was his own doing. Voldemort felt a heavy sensation suddenly welling up in his heart.
As his thoughts drifted, Voldemort immediately sensed a jarring dissonance!
*Nostalgia? Empathy? Guilt?*
*How could I have such emotions? Such thoughts? These things should be impossible for me!*
Something was wrong! Something was definitely wrong!
*Wick! It must be Wick!*
While Voldemort was reeling in shock, Harry reached out and tugged at his sleeve. "Professor, do you want to play with us?"
"N-no... I'm not very fond of snowball fights," Voldemort stammered, appearing uncharacteristically flustered. "I have... matters to attend to. Goodbye, Potter."
Harry watched Quirrell's retreating figure, feeling slightly confused.
He felt that Quirrell seemed odd today. Although he still appeared as timid as ever, his eyes were different.
They didn't have that usual shifting, evasive quality; instead, there was an indescribable sharpness to them.
At the same time, Harry realized with surprise that the heavy scent of garlic that usually clung to Quirrell had completely vanished...
"Harry! Let's keep going!" Lee Jordan's voice called out from the distance.
Harry didn't have time to dwell on it and turned back to continue the snowball fight.
Voldemort hurried back to Quirrell's office, locked the doors and windows, and pulled out the Communication Stone Victor had given him.
"Wick! That soul energy you gave me! Is there something wrong with it?!"
"A problem? What problem? Do you feel unwell?" Victor's puzzled voice echoed in Voldemort's mind through the stone.
"My emotions feel wrong today! Did you tamper with that soul energy?" Voldemort demanded.
"That is a very serious accusation, Mr. Dark Lord. We've already discussed the nature of our partnership, and I don't believe we need to repeat ourselves... Could you tell me exactly what's wrong with your emotions?" Victor asked.
Voldemort frowned. Victor was right; they were bound by mutual interest, and Victor had no reason to sabotage him. So... was this just some common technical issue?
Voldemort patiently explained the oddity he was experiencing to Victor.
"With all due respect, Mr. Dark Lord, I don't see anything inherently wrong with those emotions," Victor's voice came back. "Humans are ultimately emotional creatures. Even wizards as powerful as Grindelwald or Dumbledore have their moments of melancholy..."
"I have never felt such pointless nonsense before!" Voldemort's furious voice crackled through the stone, his anger palpable.
"Ah... I see..." Victor sounded like he had reached an epiphany. "I think I understand now."
"You know the cause?"
"Yes, I believe I do. If I'm not mistaken, you used to be quite emotionally detached, which is why you never experienced such feelings."
"Hmph, those are useless trifles. I have always treated the emotions of others as tools. Why would I allow myself to possess such a weakness?" Voldemort snorted. This was his true conviction.
Only a boring old fool like Dumbledore would focus on such things, constantly blathering on about 'love'...
To him, emotions were merely tools to manipulate or punish others. Why would he ever experience them himself?
"Mr. Dark Lord, your soul has suffered immense damage. If I'm not mistaken, you are currently existing as a mere soul fragment, correct?"
"Correct. But that is of no consequence. Even with a single fragment, I can be resurrected," Voldemort stated proudly.
"That's the problem. My soul power nourishes and repairs the soul. Since it's a repair, it naturally restores the missing parts. This process is autonomous; it likely viewed your cold, detached nature as a 'missing' part and performed a 'repair' on it. That's why you've suddenly become so sentimental."
Victor's explanation left Voldemort stunned for a long time.
In other words, the issue wasn't with Victor; he hadn't tampered with anything. On the contrary, the 'problem' was Voldemort himself.
The emotional void he was born with was being treated as damage and was being 'fixed' by the soul energy...
Voldemort remained silent for a long time. Victor spoke again. "I'm currently preparing a second batch of soul energy for you. If you're concerned about this side effect, I can stop. The batch I already gave you is enough to keep you stable for a while."
"No! Continue. I need that soul power!" Voldemort replied decisively. "I can overcome a minor side effect! As long as I am certain you didn't sabotage me."
Hanging up the Communication Stone, Victor sat in Aziraphale's bookshop with a subtle, meaningful smile on his face.