A Tale of Quirinus Quirrell

Prologue

At precisely two minutes to one in the morning, a blur of violet left a door ajar and melded into the shadows of a cold and lonely corridor. The light tapping of Quirinus Quirrell's muddy brown brogues could almost be mistaken for the sound of dripping water. If anyone were to lay their eyes upon the young Professor in this moment, they may have mistaken him for a ghost: a chalk white complexion and pale eyes drowning in the icy black pools of his mind. No - Quirinus was no ghost.

He was the one being haunted.

The professor left his chambers behind him, drifting through the shadows of silent corridors. The warm wonders of the previous day were in a distant land, like all the oblivious children who now snorted, sniffed and snored away from their petty problems. A sting of jealousy raced through his bones, although the feeling was quick. He needed to be careful, for any strong emotions would risk awakening the Dark Lord. Quirinus reached up a trembling hand to tug his tie loose and undo his top two buttons. His flushed neck was greeted by a cold draft dancing down the corridor, calming him down. He didn't know exactly where he was going, in fact he didn't even know where he was. He needed to get lost, and for once in his live not be haunted by the darkness that splintered through him; the darkness that attached itself to the back of his head. He was never alone, but it was in these few short hours that he could finally pretend he was. His footsteps lightly echoed through the hallways, although he had began to quickly realise that the subtle taps of another rippled out from behind him.

Quirinus stopped. He knew who it was stalking him late into the night. The looming footsteps stopped with him, but not fast enough to escape Quirrell's notice. A nervous sigh escaped his lips as he turned around to face back down the corridor.

'Y-you can come out of the ssshadows, S-S-Severus,' his trembling voice echoed off the walls as he squinted his eyes. His right eye twitched twice as he nervously twiddled his fingers. The man was good at hiding, he observed, but he wasn't good enough to escape the notice of a man who never stopped worrying. He turned on his feet and continued on his walk through the darkness, although he knew it wouldn't be for long.

'Sev-,' he went to turn back around but he was quickly slammed against the wall. Dark eyes met his own, and he began to panic. 'S-Severus I-I-I- ...'

'You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell.' The vice grip he held around his throat tightened for a moment. Nervous mumbles and disjointed sounds escaped his mouth as Quirinus trembled and hopelessly tried to form words. Thus, his fear was momentarily replaced with shame.

'W-what d-do you mean?'

'You know perfectly well what I mean.'

Silent whispers invaded his senses as the feeling of being watched suddenly took over Quirinus, followed by a flicker of fear as he suspected the dark wizard on the back of his head had awoken. But there was something else. Yes, he heard it more clearly now. The breathing. There was someone else here with them. His eyes flickered to the source of the noise, but he was only met with empty space. No, that couldn't be right... He continued to stare, silently hoping for an unknown saviour.

Severus became aware of his distraction, and before he could snap at him, heard why he was distracted. Breathing? Severus slowly extended a hand, and quickly tried to grab the hidden presence. Nothing, nothing at all. Stupid Quirrell, he silently sneered. His hand snapped back to his throat, causing Quirinus's knees to buckle in fear. It was too much. His eyes pleaded for help, but Severus would never truly know how deep that plea went.

Quirinus had come to realise that he was a slave, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Voldemort was too strong and too clever. A wave of despair clouted him as he thought of his past foolishness. Deep down in his heart, he knew he was doomed. He knew he would be forgotten.

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A/N

I have always had a fascination with the characters that people will often forget about, perhaps quite like yourself if you are reading this. I hope to explore how I personally imagine Quirrell and perhaps challenge his status as a villain. What intrigues me most of all are the possible dynamics in his relationships with others, which I wish to explore.

If you've got a minute, it would truly mean a lot to know what you think!:)

Also...

**************DISCLAIMER: I realise that this chapter includes a scene from Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone. I do not claim any ownership to any elements and dialogue quoted from the film or book. *****************

After this chapter I intend to diverge completely from the original storyline of Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone.

Many thanks,

Ren