Voldemort had not been having a particularly pleasant time lately either. Grindelwald's sudden escape had made everyone tighten security around the place Voldemort was certain the Stone was hidden, and the change had been harsh and immediate. At first, he'd assumed he could afford to take his time, dismantling the protections around the Stone piece by piece.
That assumption didn't last.
Quirrell's body was starting to reject his soul, and it was taking damage from the strain. That put Voldemort on a deadline, one that left him thoroughly irritated. Still, he knew several methods to address the issue if he needed to.
For now, he had a simpler priority. He needed to trick that fool Hagrid into telling him the Cerberus's weakness.
...
Voldemort would admit the public reveal of the talented boy Nicholas Iron's heritage had caught him off guard. If anything, it had also begun to make him dislike the boy on a more personal level. The Grey Lady's constant presence around him made Voldemort uneasy. The thought that she might mention the diadem to the boy was an unpleasant one, and it would complicate matters.
In the end, it proved to be a pointless concern. Not only was the diadem still untouched where Voldemort had left it, but the boy had also thoroughly separated himself from the old fool who ran the school.
...
It was almost amusing, watching the old man's reaction to the boy's vicious retaliation. In Voldemort's not-so-humble opinion, it had been a marvelous strike.
Severus, however, deserved praise for how he handled the situation by having the Weasley boy read out the results. At first glance, nobody noticed that the Iron boy had been moments away from directly cursing Dumbledore, and that his fury had been aimed at the old man alone, rightfully so.
Severus had gambled that whatever was written on the papers would shield the boy from consequences.
And Severus had won.
...
The title of "heir and lord of founding House Ravenclaw" was no minor protection to hide behind in any social circle. The boy had taken a small measure of revenge for Severus's invasion of privacy, but he clearly didn't hate his servant over it, so it was acceptable.
Voldemort had decided to leave the boy alone for now. The political storm he'd been dragged into would keep him distracted for quite some time, making him a non-threat in the short term.
Grindelwald's presence, however, weighed far more heavily on Voldemort's mind. Another figure operating at his and Dumbledore's level was not a development that suited his future plans.
...
No, in truth, it could be called the worst possible development for what he intended.
The previous Dark Lord clearly would not share Dumbledore's moral limits. Voldemort had always relied on that in his clashes with the old man, using other lives as tools to restrain him, to force hesitation and compromise.
Grindelwald, on the other hand, would likely laugh in his face if Voldemort tried the same trick.
...
I can still deal with the Potter boy while I work to reclaim my former glory, Voldemort thought, his mind briefly turning to the upcoming Quidditch match that involved the Potter scion.
Meanwhile, Julian was debating with himself over the advantages and dangers of ripping the soul shard out of the diadem, once Helena finally told him about it. Clearly, she believed his ability to physically touch spirits would be extremely useful in purifying Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem.
She wasn't exactly wrong.
In theory, he could directly peel the shard away from the object without much trouble. The problem was what that would mean for him in the process. Doing it that way would expose his own soul to the shard's corruptive influence.
...
Julian wasn't arrogant enough to assume he was immune to being tainted by dark magic like that, and that knowledge was what fueled the mess in his head.
On one hand, dealing with it now would almost erase the need to face the same problem later.
On the other hand, he was deeply uncomfortable with the idea of letting something that foul touch his spirit at all.
If he understood souls well enough, he'd simply craft a ring that devoured shards on contact and made the entire problem effortless. But he was painfully lacking in that area.
...
The "ancient" section of the library hadn't helped much either. In all his searching, he'd only found a single book that even focused on souls, and it was so complex, so high-level, that he couldn't get past the first paragraph.
Julian was stuck between a rock, a hard place, and a hungry dragon, and he knew it.
Do it.
Don't do it.
Or put it off.
Those were his choices, and none of them were appealing.
...
There was also the destructive option. He could use basilisk venom on the Horcrux, destroying the corruption completely and leaving the diadem unusable in the process.