Early July, 1991. Sunny.
Outside Professor George Finn's office at London University, on a bench in the corridor.
Quirinus Quirrell sat quietly, wearing a light burgundy trench coat and a deep purple scarf wrapped around his head.
The summer heat still lingered in London in early July, and Quirrell's outfit always drew the attention of students and staff passing by.
But his gaze was calm and composed. A few long, slender fingers toyed with a brown wooden stick:
An Alder wand.
Nine inches, with a Unicorn tail hair core. Quite pliable, and crafted by Garrick Ollivander, master wandmaker.
Thought flickered in his calm gaze as it slowly settled on the wand.
Quirrell...
Or rather, Voldemort...
Or perhaps... Lin Zuo...
This body had borne too many souls.
But at least Voldemort and Lin Zuo had become one.
So.
For the time being, let us call him Voldemort.
After all, that was his most "real" identity at the moment.
Voldemort gazed at the wand, lost in thought, as one piece of information after another flitted through his mind:
Alder. Not easily bent.
In essence, it favored wizards who were helpful, considerate, and well-liked.
But as a wand, it never chose wizards with similar personalities.
Instead, it did the opposite, seeking owners whose traits differed from its own, sometimes completely.
Because it was especially well suited to casting Silencing Charms, it had earned a reputation as a wand "only suited to the highest level of wizard."
It was also exceptionally useful and loyal.
And a core made from Unicorn tail hair...
While it refused Dark Magic, it was also the most loyal of all wand cores, so much so that it could "die" for its owner.
Two traits of loyalty, and one of resistance to Dark Magic.
All three together. No wonder Voldemort was having such a hard time.
Voldemort's Remnant Soul had now fully merged with Lin Zuo.
But only five parts of the magical knowledge in the Remnant Soul's memories remained clear:
The Imperius Curse...
The Cruciatus Curse...
Legilimency...
Avada Kedavra...
The last part concerned resurrection spells and ritual theories, still in an unfinished state.
In other words, Voldemort could only use one spell with this wand at the moment...
Legilimency.
"What an excellent Legilimens you are!" Voldemort murmured sarcastically.
As he pondered how to break the wand's hold over him,
Quirrell, who had yielded control of the body, spoke in his mind.
"Master, will Dumbledore choose me as Hogwarts' Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor?"
His voice held not only uncertainty, but a trace of fear.
Voldemort wasn't surprised by his fear. Anyone with another person sitting on their head, who also had to approach Old Bee of his own accord, would find it impossible to suppress their fear.
"Quirrell."
"First, let me make this clear again: don't call me Master. Call me the Dark Lord. It'll be harder to expose us that way."
"Second, you're the only candidate for the position. Or... do you think they'll hire a professor from Azkaban?"
As Voldemort spoke, a smile crept across his face.
He had to admit, going to Azkaban to find a professor was a good idea, too.
After all...
It was Hogwarts' fifth off-campus house, where only the "best" graduates from each year could go for further study.
"Yes, Mr. Dark Lord."
Quirrell's voice sounded again in his mind, making Voldemort roll his eyes.
"Drop the 'Mr.,' Quirrell. If you keep that up, I can guarantee Old Bee's eyes will gaze at you fondly from behind his half-moon spectacles."
Fear welled up once more from the depths of Quirrell's soul. Voldemort pursed his lips helplessly.
His little fanboy really was both a coward and a thrill-seeker.
"Mr. Quirinus Quirrell."
A clear voice sounded as Professor George Finn walked over. "You're early."
Voldemort stood and nodded with a smile. "Yes. I didn't want to take up too much of your time."
"Considering the funding you've provided for my research, making me wait a little longer would be nothing."
As George Finn spoke, he opened the office door. "But I must say, your courtesy has touched me deeply."
Voldemort smiled in response and followed him inside.
"Well, has young Quirrell's state of mind improved at all?"
Professor George Finn set down the papers in his hands and poured Voldemort some water.
"Thank you."
Voldemort took the glass and sipped before replying, "I don't think so. He's still wavering between arrogance and timidity."
"I think he'll be much better after a few more sessions."
George Finn sat down in front of him and loosened the top button of his shirt. "Then, would you mind letting me continue with him?"
Voldemort nodded with a smile. "Of course. The rest of the time is yours."
As soon as he finished speaking, Quirrell's calm smile vanished, replaced by a cold expression.
Voldemort's soul willingly relinquished control, handing it back to Quirrell once again.
"Now, let's pick up where we left off last time."
"Young Quirrell, what happened after you became a professor at that ancient school?"
George Finn, Professor of Psychology at London University and an original member of the BPS, asked.
"After I became a... Professor of Basic Science Popularization, I was very happy..."
Quirrell recounted his experiences. He still seemed cold, but he was much better than he had been a few days ago.
In truth.
If his master hadn't repeatedly pressured him, he could never have accepted being treated by a Muggle—not even one who was a respected and exceptionally capable psychology professor.
How could the proud wizard Quirrell let someone else peer into his mind?
But...
His master was terrifying when he turned cruel, and Quirrell didn't dare disobey his orders.
Besides, Professor George Finn really was good at his job.
After some initial adjustment, Professor George Finn had pinpointed the problems in Quirrell's personality and started guiding him through them in conversation.
The sessions were working better and better. At least Quirrell had gone from disgust and disdain to indifference when dealing with the professor.
Voldemort believed that after a few more sessions, Quirrell would be able to steady his nerves. Then he wouldn't need to act timid when meeting Old Bee.
He had to admit that he wasn't a good actor.
Rather than impersonate Quirrell at Hogwarts,
it was better to put Quirrell through some hardship and have him impersonate Voldemort.
After all.
Quirrell only needed to be as composed as Voldemort when facing Dumbledore.
Night fell over London, as it always did.
Darkness could conceal many things: thieves, drunks, women—and among them...
Owls.
"Knock, knock, knock."
When an owl arrived outside the window and tapped on it with its beak, Professor George Finn turned to look, startled.
"This is one of the ways my family communicates."
"Of course, we prefer owls to carrier pigeons, though I admit it's a little strange."
Voldemort promptly took control of the body from Quirrell and rose to his feet as he spoke, walking over to the window.
"It really is remarkable, but... how did it know you were here?" Professor George Finn asked curiously.
"There are children in my family who study here. They must have trained it."
Voldemort calmly lied, took the envelope from the owl's beak, and fed it some treats with his other hand.
He looked down at the back of the envelope. As expected, it bore a wax seal stamped with a shield.
Around a large letter "H" were an eagle, a lion, a badger, and a snake.
He turned and smiled apologetically at Professor George Finn. Only then did he open the envelope and unfold the letter:
Dear Mr. Quirinus Quirrell,
We are pleased to inform you that your application for the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor has been accepted. Your interview will take place at two o'clock in the afternoon on July 21. Please be prepared.
P.S. Please enter the school via Floo Powder. As a former Muggle Studies professor, I'm sure you know the name of my office. If you choose another method, please let me know in advance.
Deputy Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall.
The letter ended there, and a smile appeared on Voldemort's face.
"Is it good news?" George Finn asked.
"Yes, a family letter."
Voldemort happily slipped the envelope into his pocket, then said, "Professor George Finn, we may need to speed up your treatment. I don't want young Quirrell to go home still in this state."
"As you wish, Mr. Quirrell."
George Finn nodded and resumed the session.
Meanwhile, Voldemort, having relinquished control of the body, murmured deep in Quirrell's consciousness:
"We'll need to make thorough preparations..."
"Old Bee won't be easy to deal with."
Before you continue