Wizarding World One Shots (Discontinued)

Quirrell/Voldemort mini-story

"What? How could you?" Voldemort asked his turban sharing slave. "I thought-"

"Well, you thought wrong, my lord!" Professor Quirrell said proudly. His white knight had just taken out one of his master's black bishops.

"Ugh! You'll be sorry!" Voldemort sneered as Quirrell walked to the other side of the Wizard's Chess table. He stood so his back was facing it and so was Voldemort's face.

"Hmmm..." Voldemort said, examining his black army. He chose black because, well, he was the Dark Lord. Hehe. Well, he thought it was clever. He cleared his throat. "Castle to D-5." His castle moved foward, striking down a white pawn. "HA! See that, Quirrell?"

"Ooo! You just killed my pawn! What ever shall I do?" The professer said sarcastically.

"Shut up." The other wizard said as Quirrell moved to his side of the board. Voldemort now faced the window in Quirrell's office. He could see that students were playing in the snow, having fun, laughing. It made him sick.

Then he noticed two bright orange heads running into the castle. He reconized them. "QUIRRELL!" He cried. His slave jumped. "Look! It's them!"

"Who, my lord?" Quirrell asked, turning toward the window.

Voldy now couldn't see, so he said, "Those two gingers! The ones who bewitched snowballs to hit my face!"

"Um...I think they were just trying to knock of the turban, my lord." Quirrell said nervously.

Voldemort scoffed, "Pshaw. They know. I know they know."

Quirrell threw up his hands, "They're 13 year old kids, for Merlin's sake! You really think they're smart enough to know that you're here secretly planning to kill Harry Potter?"

"Shut up!" His master said, glancing around, "That's a secret plan for a reason!"

Quirrell stomped his foot. "Stop telling me to shut up! I get it enough from Flitwick and the students! I don't need it from you, too!"

Voldemort's face boiled with fury. "DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"

"You know, I didn't have to share my body with you!"

"Ah, but you did!"

"Well, maybe I've changed my mind." Quirrell crossed his arms. Even though his master couldn't see his expression, he was rather angry himself.

Voldemort sighed and said to him, "Look, I apologize. I shouldn't have shouted. I am grateful that you let me borrow the back of your head for mine. And just remember, when Harry's dead and I have the Stone, we'll have our own bodies back again!"

Quirrell gave a little smile. "Yeah!"

"Yeah! See, I know what I'm doing! Now, let's get back to that chess game, eh?"

"Okay, my lord!" Quirrell rushed over to the table. He stroked his chin, examining the pieces. Then he grinned, and said clearly, "Queen to E-4."

The queen slid foward. The professor turned so his master could see what was going to happen. The white queen took out the black king. "Checkmate!" Quirrell yelled, pumping his fist in the air.

"Aw, what?" The Dark Lord said as Quirrell did a victory dance. "Best two out of three?"

"Sure thing, my lord" Quirrell said, smiling to himself.