Quirinus Quirrell
I didn't have long to dwell on my deepest desire, as the final term brought a haze of feverish study, cramming sessions, and then the exams themselves.
Unlike last year, I hadn't put off my study in favour of last-minute cramming, so I was a lot more confident in my results. That didn't mean I enjoyed the stress though.
The night before my final exam, a practical test in brewing potions, I was in the kitchens, trying to relax over a butter beer. I knew I'd probably do fine, but I was still jittery and was taking the opportunity to try and calm my nerves.
I was just about to leave when, with a loud pop, Glirus apparated into the centre of the room, slumping against a table.
"Glirus! What happened‽" I asked as the house-elf stood and began pushing aside his worried companions, making his way toward me.
He looked vacant, his large eyes fixed on me with an absent gaze.
"Glirus! You's not looking well!" one of the kitchen hands said, grabbing Glirus's shoulder. He pushed her aside with a burst of magic and leapt at me.
I didn't even have time to scream, before the air was pressed out of my lungs and I was whisked away, only to be deposited on hard stones moments later, gasping for breath.
"So. You're the one who set the house-elf on me," a familiar voice said.
Still dizzy and short of breath, I stumbled to my feet, glancing around. I was in an empty classroom, and standing before me, barring the door, was Quirrell, staring down at me curiously.
Fuck!
"I must admit that I was expecting someone older," Quirrell said casually, without a hint of his iconic stutter. "When the elf said you were the one who had set him to follow me… well, you can understand my curiosity."
I reached for my pocket for my wand, but it wasn't there. I'd left it in the kitchen! I glanced around hastily, looking for a way of escape, before my eyes alighted on an unmoving figure sprawled at Quirrell's feet.
Quirrell glanced down at my friend with an air of disinterest.
"I must say," he continued in a drawl, "your plan was rather ingenious. No one notices the elves. I uncovered his activities purely by chance, just before Halloween, and at first, I thought it was Dumbledore or perhaps Snape who'd set him to watch me.
Oh god, he's monologuing. But with Glirus still out of it and Quirrell barring the only way of egress, I'd take every second I could get.
"If you knew Glir… the elf was following you from the beginning, why didn't you act earlier?" I asked.
"Because," Quirrell said haughtily, "I was only being followed. There was no real evidence against me, or else I wouldn't have had only an elf on my tail. Regardless, I had to change my plans accordingly."
"You're the one who convinced Peeves to prank the Halloween Feast," I prompted. "Why?"
Quirrell grimaced.
"I had a plan to release a Troll in the dungeons. Unfortunately, with this elf following me, I couldn't be so transparent in my methods."
I bit back a snarl as Quirrell nudged my friend with his boot. He ignored me, opting instead to continue talking.
"If I'd used the Troll, it would have been obvious I was the culprit. After all, all the other professors know I'm good with them, and I even used one as my challenge in Dumbledore's silly gauntlet… So yes I entice Peeves to harass the Halloween Feast, and he proved quite the willing accomplice."
Grimacing, I glanced back to Glirus. Keep talking arsehole.
"You're a curious child," Quirrell said softly. "Very few would think to utilise house-elves. But why the suspicion? For all you knew I was just p-p-poor st-stuttering Professor Quirrell."
He sounded genuinely curious.
"I had a run-in with last year's Defence Professor," I said reluctantly. "Let's just say that I wasn't really willing to trust any new teachers after that experience."
"You were confronted by the vampire‽" Quirrell said in amusement. "Oh don't look so surprised. Professor McGonagall has been complaining about Trocar nonstop since before the year even began… But why was he interested in you?"
I shrugged, resisting the urge to wipe the sweat from my brow.
Quirrell's frown deepened.
"If you won't tell me," he said, "I will just have to find out the hard way. Legilimens!"
I clammed up. He'd find out! Voldemort would learn everything! My mind jolted as the spell hit and then-
"What is this‽" Quirrell snarled. "Legilimens!"
I felt another jolt, like I'd been smacked in the head.
"Impossible!" Quirrell screamed, sinking into a duelling stance, wand pointed at me. "How can you know Occlumency‽ You're just a child! Crucio!"
The red bolt hit me and I screamed, consumed by white-hot agony.
"Tell me!!!"
The spell stopped and I felt raw. I tried to stand again, to face the fucker, but every movement sent lances of pain through my body.
"Legilimens!" Quirrell growled again, and again my mind jolted, but even through the burning sensation, I could tell it still wasn't working.
Closing my eyes, I waited for Quirrell to cast crucio again, or perhaps just finish me off. All I could hear was his harsh breathing and then…
"Try a different way."
The voice was cold. A whisper of mild annoyance. I knew exactly who it was.
"Imperio," Quirrell intoned, his voice more steady.
Instantly, my panic drained away and the fear faded. I felt light, and warm, and calm.
"Tell me," Quirrell said, "why the vampire was interested in you…"
Of course. I opened my mouth to explain about the prophecy, but then stopped. Something didn't feel right.
A second passed. Then two.
"Tell me, boy!" Quirrell snapped.
I opened my mouth again, but this time the feeling of wrongness was even more intense. A niggling sense of unease wormed its way through the tranquility of the imperio. It was a feeling that, perhaps, I shouldn't speak.
"The boy is resolute," the cold voice said, sounding amused. "Perhaps he has something to hide after all. Try the elf. I doubt it will be so difficult."
"Legilimens."
The feeling of bliss slowly faded, replaced by dread and a cold, gut-wrenching fear, and I stared blearily at the fucker as the spell hit Glirus.
After a long moment, Quirrell lowered his wand, looking confused.
"Master," he said, "I don't understand-"
His face morphed into an abrupt scowl that cut him off in mid-sentence.
"You know about the Room of Lost Things," he said coldly.
I stared in shock at the man. Voldemort was speaking through the professor.
Fuck! He knew that I'd been to the Room of Requirement! The Room where his Horcrux was!
"Imperio!" Quirrellmort hissed, and the panic washed away, replaced by the calmness of subservience. "Walk to the third floor corridor on the right-hand side that the Headmaster declared out of bounds," he said. "Open the door at the end of the corridor and step inside. You can keep your secrets, but you will serve me. Even if it's to cover my tracks."
With my orders given, I began to walk, stepping over Glirus's still form and past the possessed Professor.
"Deal with the elf," the cold voice said behind me.
The last thing I heard before I was consumed fully by the tranquility of the spell, was the normal voice of Quirrell saying 'Avada Kedavra.'
Then I knew no more.
Unlike last year, I hadn't put off my study in favour of last-minute cramming, so I was a lot more confident in my results. That didn't mean I enjoyed the stress though.
The night before my final exam, a practical test in brewing potions, I was in the kitchens, trying to relax over a butter beer. I knew I'd probably do fine, but I was still jittery and was taking the opportunity to try and calm my nerves.
I was just about to leave when, with a loud pop, Glirus apparated into the centre of the room, slumping against a table.
"Glirus! What happened‽" I asked as the house-elf stood and began pushing aside his worried companions, making his way toward me.
He looked vacant, his large eyes fixed on me with an absent gaze.
"Glirus! You's not looking well!" one of the kitchen hands said, grabbing Glirus's shoulder. He pushed her aside with a burst of magic and leapt at me.
I didn't even have time to scream, before the air was pressed out of my lungs and I was whisked away, only to be deposited on hard stones moments later, gasping for breath.
"So. You're the one who set the house-elf on me," a familiar voice said.
Still dizzy and short of breath, I stumbled to my feet, glancing around. I was in an empty classroom, and standing before me, barring the door, was Quirrell, staring down at me curiously.
Fuck!
"I must admit that I was expecting someone older," Quirrell said casually, without a hint of his iconic stutter. "When the elf said you were the one who had set him to follow me… well, you can understand my curiosity."
I reached for my pocket for my wand, but it wasn't there. I'd left it in the kitchen! I glanced around hastily, looking for a way of escape, before my eyes alighted on an unmoving figure sprawled at Quirrell's feet.
Quirrell glanced down at my friend with an air of disinterest.
"I must say," he continued in a drawl, "your plan was rather ingenious. No one notices the elves. I uncovered his activities purely by chance, just before Halloween, and at first, I thought it was Dumbledore or perhaps Snape who'd set him to watch me.
Oh god, he's monologuing. But with Glirus still out of it and Quirrell barring the only way of egress, I'd take every second I could get.
"If you knew Glir… the elf was following you from the beginning, why didn't you act earlier?" I asked.
"Because," Quirrell said haughtily, "I was only being followed. There was no real evidence against me, or else I wouldn't have had only an elf on my tail. Regardless, I had to change my plans accordingly."
"You're the one who convinced Peeves to prank the Halloween Feast," I prompted. "Why?"
Quirrell grimaced.
"I had a plan to release a Troll in the dungeons. Unfortunately, with this elf following me, I couldn't be so transparent in my methods."
I bit back a snarl as Quirrell nudged my friend with his boot. He ignored me, opting instead to continue talking.
"If I'd used the Troll, it would have been obvious I was the culprit. After all, all the other professors know I'm good with them, and I even used one as my challenge in Dumbledore's silly gauntlet… So yes I entice Peeves to harass the Halloween Feast, and he proved quite the willing accomplice."
Grimacing, I glanced back to Glirus. Keep talking arsehole.
"You're a curious child," Quirrell said softly. "Very few would think to utilise house-elves. But why the suspicion? For all you knew I was just p-p-poor st-stuttering Professor Quirrell."
He sounded genuinely curious.
"I had a run-in with last year's Defence Professor," I said reluctantly. "Let's just say that I wasn't really willing to trust any new teachers after that experience."
"You were confronted by the vampire‽" Quirrell said in amusement. "Oh don't look so surprised. Professor McGonagall has been complaining about Trocar nonstop since before the year even began… But why was he interested in you?"
I shrugged, resisting the urge to wipe the sweat from my brow.
Quirrell's frown deepened.
"If you won't tell me," he said, "I will just have to find out the hard way. Legilimens!"
I clammed up. He'd find out! Voldemort would learn everything! My mind jolted as the spell hit and then-
"What is this‽" Quirrell snarled. "Legilimens!"
I felt another jolt, like I'd been smacked in the head.
"Impossible!" Quirrell screamed, sinking into a duelling stance, wand pointed at me. "How can you know Occlumency‽ You're just a child! Crucio!"
The red bolt hit me and I screamed, consumed by white-hot agony.
"Tell me!!!"
The spell stopped and I felt raw. I tried to stand again, to face the fucker, but every movement sent lances of pain through my body.
"Legilimens!" Quirrell growled again, and again my mind jolted, but even through the burning sensation, I could tell it still wasn't working.
Closing my eyes, I waited for Quirrell to cast crucio again, or perhaps just finish me off. All I could hear was his harsh breathing and then…
"Try a different way."
The voice was cold. A whisper of mild annoyance. I knew exactly who it was.
"Imperio," Quirrell intoned, his voice more steady.
Instantly, my panic drained away and the fear faded. I felt light, and warm, and calm.
"Tell me," Quirrell said, "why the vampire was interested in you…"
Of course. I opened my mouth to explain about the prophecy, but then stopped. Something didn't feel right.
A second passed. Then two.
"Tell me, boy!" Quirrell snapped.
I opened my mouth again, but this time the feeling of wrongness was even more intense. A niggling sense of unease wormed its way through the tranquility of the imperio. It was a feeling that, perhaps, I shouldn't speak.
"The boy is resolute," the cold voice said, sounding amused. "Perhaps he has something to hide after all. Try the elf. I doubt it will be so difficult."
"Legilimens."
The feeling of bliss slowly faded, replaced by dread and a cold, gut-wrenching fear, and I stared blearily at the fucker as the spell hit Glirus.
After a long moment, Quirrell lowered his wand, looking confused.
"Master," he said, "I don't understand-"
His face morphed into an abrupt scowl that cut him off in mid-sentence.
"You know about the Room of Lost Things," he said coldly.
I stared in shock at the man. Voldemort was speaking through the professor.
Fuck! He knew that I'd been to the Room of Requirement! The Room where his Horcrux was!
"Imperio!" Quirrellmort hissed, and the panic washed away, replaced by the calmness of subservience. "Walk to the third floor corridor on the right-hand side that the Headmaster declared out of bounds," he said. "Open the door at the end of the corridor and step inside. You can keep your secrets, but you will serve me. Even if it's to cover my tracks."
With my orders given, I began to walk, stepping over Glirus's still form and past the possessed Professor.
"Deal with the elf," the cold voice said behind me.
The last thing I heard before I was consumed fully by the tranquility of the spell, was the normal voice of Quirrell saying 'Avada Kedavra.'
Then I knew no more.
That's not going to backfire or anything, talk about misplaced pride.