Disclaimer: I suppose I must provide an obligatory no-ownership disclaimer . . . I don't own or profit from this literary work, all rights reserved to JK Rowling.

Full Summary: Voldemort finds his human nature in an unlikely place: a Muggle girl with an indomitable spirit. This is the emotional journey of Voldemort (hence the spiritual category) and the lives he touched during that time, and the people closest to him as their whole world is turned upside-down. It is as much a story of healing and the human spirit as it is a tragedy and an examination of the relationship of two people brought together by sad circumstance (hence the family category- no romance).

Author's Note/Warnings: this is my first HP fic, so be easy on me. This fic will be a bit shocking and almost horror at parts, so I feel a duty to provide you with a warning: if you are sensitive to any of the topics listed here, DO NOT continue to read this story. If you continue to read this story and are disturbed by it, I can accept no responsibility for your actions after you have read this warning. The sensitive topics covered in this plot are: murder, kidnapping, physical, verbal, sexual, and child abuse, suicide, and spirituality (contemplation of religion, atheism, gods). Again, if any of these topics disturb/cause anger in you, DO NOT READ and hold me accountable for your bad decision if you are disturbed.

Thank you. Enjoy the story.

Iris Musicia

The Dark Lord was out. He'd departed Malfoy Manor and headed for a nearby Muggle town, set on killing a few, just for fun. He chose a house at random and descended upon it, cloaked, and marched up the driveway. For a moment, a passing lorry lit up his face and revealed red snakelike eyes out for blood. Alohamora had worked perfectly unlocking the door, and he let himself in with the imperious air of a man with nothing to fear. There were three Muggles in the sitting room, watching their eklektrick contraption.

He swept into the room, cloak billowing. The father looked enraged. The mother looked scared. The daughter ran out of the room. Avada Kedavra dispatched the mother and father satisfyingly, and he went after the little girl. She'd run upstairs and he could hear her crying to another person. So there were two more. The more the merrier, they say.

Walking into the room, the Dark Lord looked around for a moment, expecting to see two girls. He heard a sniffle, and saw motion. The little girl was crouched under the nightstand, staring at him with huge, tear-filled eyes. Where was the other girl? He raised his wand and drew a breath to speak the killing spell, but suddenly a person leaped onto his back. They nearly knocked him down, and the next thing he knew, there was a hand over his mouth and nose, and a Muggle girl screaming incoherent insults at him. Lazily, he aimed his wand at her over his shoulder and froze her, shrugging her frozen form off onto the floor.

He continued on his original path and killed the littler girl, then turned to the girl that had attacked him. "Do you know what people who attack the Dark Lord get?" he hissed. The girl was frozen with an angry look on her face, making her seem defiant. He drew a breath to shout, "Crucio!" when something stopped him. It wasn't a physical force, it was his long-lost and barely existent conscience speaking up. It told him he shouldn't kill the girl.

For a few moments, the Dark Lord grappled with his conscience, then something amazing occurred. He finally felt remorse.

What happened that night nobody knows except for the Dark Lord himself and the only victim he ever spared, though in the Muggle police files there is record of a house fire killing the whole family.