So, obviously J.K. Rowling owns these characters and the universe. I apologise to her immediately.
Lord Voldemort was utterly confused. He didn't know it was possible for him to ever feel any sort of emotion, let alone be attracted to someone. Attracted might be a light word, for every time that the Dark Lord walked into the local Tesco and saw the tabloids, he melted. His Prada trousers became tighter each time he glimpsed a photo of those sparkling blue eyes. Was this what love was?
He questioned his sanity, the Dark Lord. He never realised just how attractive a pop star could be... let alone a Muggle pop star... No. He had lost it. But how do you explain the tight trousers? The bounce in his step in the queue as he eyed a photo of his dream boat? Nothing but complete insanity. None of it made sense to him.
Perhaps... Perhaps the Order of the Phoenix was aware that he was still alive and kicking. He thought he had been pretty under the radar, functioning well in Muggle society. He still loathed them and thought they all would be better off dead, yet he was functioning. Still a Dark Arts enthusiast, Lord Voldemort was able to find some odd old magic to allow him to regain the physique of his former youth. So, although he was really almost eighty, he looked around twenty. He'd come to the conclusion that maybe the Horcrux thing was a bit much and that it might be a lot easier to just perform the 'Somes Quondam', the difficulty of finding a virgin sacrifice nowadays aside. He could stay young and fit, but he did have to be careful not to get hit by a car or lorry.
It was nice being 'young' again. A fresh start to a new chapter in his life. No, he wasn't good, he was still evil, but something in him had changed. He smirked every time he thought back to the year of 1998 and how Harry Potter thought that he had defeated the most powerful wizard of all time. Sorry, but Expelliarmus was not an epic way for him to go. If he iwere/i to die, it would have to be with more than just a disarming spell. Come on. He had decided that it would be best to lay low for a while where his enemies could not find him, in Muggle London. After a few years, once Harry Potter and his goonies got settled in their 'peaceful' lives, he's launch his attack. It was brilliant. Not to mention... No one recognised him, which was absolutely perfect. He just blended in and had a fake name: 'Thomas Whetherby'. Brilliant, he was brilliant! No really, he was.
The former Dark Lord found himself standing in his London flat, staring at his complexion in a mirror. He looked good. He had his wand in his hand, ready to Disapparate to seek out his true love, the one in the tabloids. He knew, looking at his pale complexion, that his life would change forever. With that, he Disapparated.