That was the first time he’d seen Voldemort on the lake shore. He stood still, looking out over Hogwarts; Harry had never seen him so relaxed and calm. He rarely got the chance to examine Voldemort, but then he noticed how many of Tom Riddle’s features were still in his face. He had lost his perfect nose, but the line of his jaw, his high cheekbones, and his proud posture remained the same. Did he ever regret his lost beauty, sacrificed to dark rituals? Or did he not care at all?