It all began with a diary.
There was a moment, near the beginning, when George wondered what it was with Weasleys and diaries belonging to evil people.
That moment was long gone, now. The more he read – and reread – the diary, the less it mattered that Quirinus Quirrell had died because he'd had You-Know-Who growing out of his head.
No, George didn't see any of that. He didn't see Quirrell's ambition, or his thirst for power. He didn't see his naivety, or his arrogance in thinking that he could control the evillest wizard in recent history.
What George did see was a young boy who'd been bullied mercilessly for his stammer. A brilliant mind chained down by inconsequential yet insurmountable worries. A soul that hungered for the greatness and recognition he knew he deserved.
George took off to see the world, following in the ghostly footsteps of a young man who'd lost his way on the path to glory, the battered diary clutched in his hand.
There was a moment, near the place where Quirinus Quirrell had met the beginning of his end, that George wondered why he was destined to only love ghosts.
AN: Hey, folks! This was written for aelaia's Riddikulus Ship Challenge. My ship was George Weasley/Quirinus Quirrell – a wild ship, I know! I've never really written a drabble before – or such a wacky ship – so I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Adios, amigos! :D