Changing The Dark

Cantil: I know, I know. It's been a long time! Too long. I apologize for the long wait however, I have finally gotten over my writer's block. I think I just needed a long break to find the inspiration to write again. This is mostly a filler chapter until I get back into the swing of things.

Chapter 10

Voldemort sighed for the hundredth time, his head resting in the palm of his hand. He was slouched on his throne as his followers droned on and on about reports. Voldemort couldn't care less about it at the moment.

He couldn't stop thinking about sherlock since he left him more than two weeks ago. He didn't understand it, why was Sherlock so important to him? Why couldn't he just go back to the way it was before all this crap happened?

But the thought of never getting the chance to meet Sherlock, never to share his magic with him, made Voldemort's heart ache painfully. Voldemort discreetly rubbed at his chest where his heart lay. What the hell was wrong with him?

Voldemort finally decided to dismiss his followers as he was hardly paying any attention to them anyways. When the room was emptied, Voldemort stood and started to pace the room, his mind in thousands of directions. Well, that's not true. His mind was only in one place, along with what was left of his heart. With Sherlock Holmes.

He still couldn't really understand it much himself, but he did know that he was fond of Sherlock. Voldemort sighed tiredly, running a wary hand over his face. Maybe, just maybe, he could see Sherlock again? Just one last time?

He didn't leave Sherlock the way he had wanted too. He was too caught up in his plans to take over the Ministry, plans he didn't even know if he wanted to pursue anymore. What happens if he succeeds? He'll be in control yes, but he'll still be alone, and Sherlock...Sherlock wouldn't be with him. His followers wouldn't allow it. Their leader, with a Muggle. It couldn't happen. None of it.

This is the thought that made Voldemort pause. Was it really worth it to rule a world with no one by his side, no one to share it with? Could he even fathom it? Maybe once, before Sherlock. Before everything he could have been content just ruling the world, but now? Now all he wanted was to be with Sherlock, in any capacity. As long as Voldemort was in his presence, Voldemort would be happy.

And why couldn't Voldemort finally be happy. All his life everyone took everything he ever cared for and smashed it mercilessly, and now that he could finally, maybe have found happiness in Sherlock, he wanted to throw it all away? And for what? A dream of a ten year old bitter boy, who was mad at the world and everything in it?

Did Voldemort hate Muggles? Not really. He wasn't fond of them, but he didn't hate them like he used too. He couldn't, for hating them meant hating Sherlock, and Voldemort refused to do that. Not to Sherlock, never to him. Voldemort's face grew a determined look.

How would he go about this? Would he disband his Death Eaters? Well he'd have to wouldn't he? There was no way he could let them get away. What if they found out about Sherlock? No. Voldemort wouldn't risk it. He could always just stop contacting them, get rid of the dark mark and let them live out their lives.

It could work, but just in case Voldemort would place protective spells on Sherlock just as a precaution. One could never be too careful when it came to Voldemort's followers. He couldn't trust them not to try something, especially Bellatrix.

Then came the thought on his Horcruxes. How would he handle that? Get rid of them? Take them back into himself? Could he even do that? Voldemort wasn't so sure of this, but he felt he needed to try. Even if it all went to hell, at least he could be happy for once, even for just a moment. Decision made, Voldemort headed off to the library. There was much research to be done after all.

XXX

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Voldemort had tore the whole damn place apart for hours searching for anything on absorbing a Horcrux, but he couldn't find a damn thing. He had found a spell to get rid of the Dark Mark, but that was it. Voldemort ran a hand through his dark curls.

He had taken to this form to feel slightly better about his situation, but there was no way he could deny it now. He had missed this form. His young thirty year old self made him feel better, but if only he could find a way to stay like this. Maybe...no.

He wouldn't know anything on it. Yes, but you could have him help you, not to mention it would give you a chance to see him again. Voldemort stared out his manor window at the setting sun. the library was quiet as he contemplated his options.

Either sit here in self pity, or go to someone who was smart enough to lend a hand to help him. But what if he sends me away without a second thought? Oh, you mean like you did too him? Mind made up, Voldemort packed up his entire collection of books including Salazars work, put them all into a suitcase, shrunk it and put it in his pocket.

He then disapparated to 221b. To Sherlock.

Arriving on the doorstep, Voldemort knocked, wringing his hands unconsciously. He was insanely nervous. Would Sherlock help him? The door opened to reveal . She beamed upon seeing him and stepped aside to let him in.

"Go right up dear, I'm sure Sherlock would be delighted to see you. It's been awhile since he last saw you." With that she left, retreating back into her flat, muttering to herself.

Voldemort stared up the stairs with a look of foreboding. He made his way upstairs cautiously. Once at the door he knocked cautiously. There was movement on the other side before the door flung open to reveal John. John stared at him, a surprised frown marring his face.

John looked around the hall before greeting Voldemort. "Voldemort. What're you doing here?" He asked, stepping aside to let him in. Voldemort stared around the flat, looking for Sherlock. Upon not finding him, he turned back to John.

"Is Sherlock in?" He questioned as casually as he could muster. Johns frown only deepened at this question.

"No, he went to Bart's Hospital for an experiment early this morning." He explained, giving Voldemort a curious look. Voldemort nodded, deflating slightly.

"Can I wait here for him?" He asked instead.

"Well that depends on how long you're willing to wait. He's been going to Barts for a few weeks now and doesn't get back until late at night." John said as he walked back over to the dining room table where his laptop lay.

Voldemort thought on it for a moment before nodding to himself. He plopped down on the sofa with a sigh. Well, he thought. I'm already here, I'm sure a few more hours won't hurt. With that Voldemort settled in once again to wait for Sherlock. To make things right.

-To Be Continued-