Quirinus lay in the infirmary bed, the soft sounds of the room lulling him into a deeper sleep. The world around him faded into a hazy blur, and soon he was enveloped by a dream—a memory that felt both foreign and familiar.
DREAM / MEMORY OF QUIRRELL
He found himself sprinting down a long, dimly lit hallway of Hogwarts, the stone walls echoing with the sound of his hurried footsteps. In his arms, he clutched several potions books, their spines worn from use. Among them, one stood out—Intermediate Potion-Making by Zygmunt Budge. He could almost smell the musty pages, feel the weight of knowledge pressing against him as he raced toward Professor Horace Slughorn's classroom.
"Not late, not late!" Quirinus muttered to himself, panic rising in his chest. He could already envision Slughorn's disappointed face if he arrived after class had begun.
As he rounded a corner, three figures blocked his path. Quirinus skidded to a halt, his heart pounding as he recognized them: Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew—the infamous Marauders. They wore their Gryffindor robes like badges of honor, their laughter ringing through the corridor.
"Well, well! Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Sirius asked with a smirk that could charm anyone but Quirinus. His long black hair fell messily over his shoulders, framing a face that radiated confidence and mischief.
Quirinus swallowed hard. "I need to get to class," he replied, trying to sidestep them.
Peter snickered, his nervous eyes glinting with mischief. "Ravenclaws are always so worried about classes! If you skip one or two, what's the worst that could happen?" He stepped closer, pushing Quirinus's books to the ground with a laugh.
"Hey!" Quirinus protested as he bent down to retrieve them.
Sirius laughed heartily. "Look at him! Such a nerd!" He glanced at James, who stood beside him with an amused expression. "Peter's got guts when it comes to someone younger than us. But when it's Snivellus and those Slytherin snakes? He hides behind us!"
Peter bristled at the mention of Severus Snape but quickly masked his irritation with flattery for Sirius. "Only you lot have the guts to face them," he said, trying to ingratiate himself.
Sirius laughed heartily. "Peter, you should use that Levicorpus that Lily taught us, just to pass the time!"
James shrugged but attempted to calm the situation. "Come on, let's just let him go," he said dismissively. "Nothing will happen."
But Peter wasn't done; he slowly drew his wand out, smirking as he pointed it at Quirinus. The Ravenclaw's heart raced as he instinctively reached for his own wand, despite not recognizing the Levicorpus Charm.
"Wait—" Quirinus started to say when suddenly a red flash erupted from James's wand.
"Expelliarmus!" James shouted, and Quirinus's wand flew from his grasp into James's hand.
"Calm down; this will all be over quickly," James said nonchalantly as Quirinus trembled at their playful cruelty.
Peter waved his wand dramatically and shouted, "Levi-COR-pus!" A green light shot from his wand and struck Quirinus before he could react. He tried to dodge but was too slow; in an instant, he found himself hanging upside down by his ankle, his robes falling around him and revealing his Ravenclaw scarf that fluttered down to the floor.
Laughter erupted from Sirius and Peter as they pointed at him. "Look at him! The Ravenclaw nerd!" they jeered.
But then something went wrong—Peter lost control of the spell. Quirinus fell hard onto the stone floor, hitting his head with a sickening thud that echoed through the hallways. Darkness enveloped him as consciousness slipped away.
The Marauders gathered around him in sudden panic; this was not how they had intended their fun to go. "What did you do?" Sirius exclaimed, kneeling beside Quirinus.
"It was an accident!" Peter stammered defensively but quickly glanced at Sirius for approval before adding meekly, "You told me to use it!"
Sirius shot him a glare that silenced any further protests from Peter. Just then, a beautiful young woman appeared at the end of the corridor—her long red hair shimmering like flames in the dim light. Lily Evans rushed forward in concern.
"I was looking for you lot!" she began before noticing Quirinus lying on the ground with blood trickling from his head wound. Her expression shifted from annoyance to alarm as she scolded them sharply. "What have you done? You're always causing trouble! We need to get him to the infirmary!"
As Lily knelt beside Quirinus and checked for signs of life, the memory faded into darkness.
END OF DREAM/MEMORY
Quirinus jolted awake in his bed in the infirmary, gasping for breath as reality crashed back around him like waves against a rocky shore. The remnants of that painful memory lingered in his mind like shadows refusing to dissipate. He could still feel the sting of humiliation wash over him as he recalled how those Gryffindors had toyed with him—how they had turned what should have been a simple day into an ordeal that left him bruised and bleeding on the cold stone floor.
As he sat up slowly, adjusting to this new reality where he now inhabited Quirinus Quirrell's body and memories, understanding began to settle within him like dust after a storm. He had been thrust into this world filled with magic and danger
He couldn't help but think back on how easily those Marauders had turned their fun into cruelty; it made sense now why Quirinus would later gravitate toward darker alliances if this was what constituted friendship among those considered heroes.
"Isn't it surprising?" he mused to himself as he stared at the ceiling. "If people like James Potter and Sirius Black are considered good… what hope is there for someone like me?"
With each passing moment in this strange new life, and with each memory that surfaced, Quirinus felt more connected and, at the same time, more isolated than ever. Whispers of ambition began to invade his thoughts; perhaps, after all, there was power in embracing the darkness, a way to rise above those who had once humiliated him and forge an identity free of ridicule. But then he dismissed that idea—being the villain so rarely turns out well.
Quirinus sat up in the infirmary bed, the remnants of his troubling memories still swirling in his mind. The soft light filtering through the windows cast a warm glow over the room, and he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Just then, the door creaked open, and a boy in Ravenclaw robes stepped inside.
"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," the boy said, his voice bright with gratitude as he entered. He moved with a sense of purpose toward Quirinus, who recognized him instantly.
"Rufus!" Quirinus exclaimed, a smile breaking through his earlier gloom.
Rufus Scrimgeour was a boy about Quirinus's age, with a mess of reddish-brown hair that fell haphazardly over his forehead. His yellow eyes sparkled behind metal-framed glasses as he approached. He set down a stack of books on the table beside Quirinus before taking a seat on a nearby stool.
"How are you feeling?" Rufus asked, seriousness and a bit of concern etched on his face as he leaned forward slightly.
Quirinus nodded, grateful for the familiar face. "I'm fine, just… trying to process everything. How were classes today?"
"They were good," Rufus replied, visibly relaxing as he settled into their conversation. "We mostly reviewed last year's material. We won't start anything new until next week." He paused for a moment, then pulled out a sheet of parchment from his bag. "Oh! You need to choose your electives; they start next week."
Quirinus took the parchment and scanned it quickly. The options were enticing: Divination, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, and Ancient Runes. He looked up at Rufus curiously. "Which ones did you choose?"
"I'm thinking about Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, and Ancient Runes," Rufus replied confidently.
"Why not Divination?" Quirinus asked, noting that Rufus had completely ruled out Muggle Studies as well.
Rufus shrugged dismissively. "Hogwarts hasn't had a stable Divination teacher for five years now. Plus, talent in Divination is incredibly rare; I'd rather not waste my time on it."
Quirinus nodded in understanding, appreciating Rufus's pragmatic approach. "I think I'll choose the same ones as you," he said after a moment's thought.
As they chatted, Quirinus felt a sense of camaraderie growing between them—a welcome change from the earlier chaos of his memories. Rufus shared snippets about their Transfiguration class with Professor McGonagall, explaining how they had practiced turning animals into inanimate objects. "She went into detail about how it works," he said animatedly. "You should review the notes I brought."
"And in Potions," Rufus continued with enthusiasm, "Slughorn taught us about the Wideye Potion! It's supposed to help you stay awake and alert."
Quirinus felt himself relaxing further as Rufus spoke. The boy was easy to talk to and seemed genuinely interested in sharing his experiences. "Oh! And there's going to be sign-ups for the Quidditch team in two weeks!" Rufus added with excitement. "You should definitely consider it! Improving your physical condition is really important."
Quirinus raised an eyebrow at that suggestion but felt a flicker of intrigue at the idea of participating in Quidditch—something he had never considered before. "I'll think about it," he replied thoughtfully.
Rufus smiled brightly at him before standing up to leave. "Take care of yourself, Quirinus! Don't let those Gryffindor bullies intimidate you." He gathered his things and waved goodbye as he exited the infirmary.
"Goodbye!" Quirinus called after him, feeling strangely uplifted by their conversation. He appreciated Rufus's encouragement and genuine concern for him.
As the door clicked shut behind Rufus, Quirinus settled back against his pillows once more. Madame Pomfrey had insisted he stay for two days to ensure he was completely okay, but boredom quickly began to creep in.
He glanced at the notes Rufus had left behind on Transfiguration and decided to take a look. Flipping through the pages, he came across an explanation that caught his interest:
"The transfiguration of an animal into an object is a magical process that involves the manipulation of the essence and form of the object through the magician's magical energy. In this case, a living being (the mouse) is transformed into an inorganic object (the cup). The magic used in this transformation is based on the magician's ability to channel his magical energy and visualize the final object, allowing the structure of the mouse to be altered and reconfigured into the desired shape."
Quirinus scratched his head in confusion; while he understood each word individually, putting them together felt like trying to solve an intricate puzzle without all the pieces. Yet deep down within him lay an ember of confidence—the memories of Quirinus Quirrell whispered promises of potential and ability waiting to be unlocked.
"I can do this," he murmured to himself quietly as he continued reading through the notes with renewed determination.
The words began to flow more easily as he immersed himself in the material; each line ignited sparks of understanding within him. He could feel something shifting inside—an awakening of sorts—as if this new life offered him opportunities beyond those that had been afforded to him before.
With every page turned and every concept grasped, Quirinus felt himself becoming more connected not only to this world but also to its magic—a magic that was now undeniably part of him.
As he delved deeper into Transfiguration theory, Quirinus couldn't help but wonder what other surprises awaited him during his time at Hogwarts.