(I wouldn't consider this section a chapter, i would just consider it a taster for now, until I have the time to add a few ACTUAL chapters. This whole story will be divided into four or five acts. There will be two Quirrell's, two Voldemorts. Think AVPM meets the Book or Film characters. In this the AVPM characters will be referred to as Tom/Quirrell, whereas the book/film will be referred to as Voldemort/Quirinus. If it's confusing, I apologize.
Dedicated to Little Miss Thalia Grace and NimueTheSorceress, Tom and Ginny, may our parting be short and filled with as little difficulty as humanely possible.)
"I blame that damned book!" Tom scowled as he walked hand in hand with his old host. The two of them remained like this for a while, walking down corridor after corridor. Neither of them put up an act when a group of second years passed, neither did they flinch when Potter and Weasley passed by. In fact, they scowled openly. The opposition laughed and pulled their wand out, casting the Expelliarmous charm, which Quirrell blocked, but other than that, their war was long over.
"You blame everything on that darn book." Quirrell said matter-of-factly, walking a bit ahead of Quirrell to look out of the window. From this view, he could see the Quiddich pitch quite clearly. Down below, fresh flowers were opening in the bitter cold. The first sign that winter had finally ended. Quirrell sighed.
"Yes, but Potter was all up for the idea of me teaching a dance class until yesterday. One re-read of those strangely accurate Muggle stories and now we're back to square one!" Tom sighed, leaning on the stone pillar.
Looping an arm around his waist, Quirrell nestled into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry Tom. I know how long you've dreamed of teaching at Hogwarts, never mind teaching dance!"
Despite the sadness that bit Tom's heart so much it hurt, he smiled. Quirrell couldn't help but say the right thing. He sometimes wondered if they had a link, beyond the bond, beyond the Horcrux. He raised his arm so Quirrell could rest his head on his chest, he knew how much he liked the hear his un-dead, no longer cold heartbeat. Smiling, Quirrell raised his head to look Tom in the eyes. Tom's face fell.
"...You're so beautiful." He said simply. He meant every word. Water filled Quirrell's eyes, and the other pulled him into a kiss before tears could fall.
"Ewww! Get a room!" Was a comment off of some passing first years, to which Quirrell replied with a giant grin.
"Good idea, I think we will!" He grabbed Tom's hand and pulled him towards the nearest corridor. "Come on, my Lord." He added with raised brows.
A chorus of 'Oooohs' followed the pair as they dodged round a corner, Quirrell pulling Tom towards a locked door that he hadn't noticed before. "What was that all about?" Tom asked, his brows raised and a slight smirk etched on his lips.
Blushing, but determined, Quirrell answered. "Hey, I was just thinking of the children's mental states." He gently placed a kiss on Tom's surprised lips. "And anyways, we haven't had some 'alone time' in ages..."
Tom grinned at the last comment. "God I love you!" He said casually, pleased for the plan Quirrell had. Seeing Quirrell's face light up, he realized what he said. "... I really do. I love you, Quirinus Quirrell."
Tears formed in his eyes,which he quickly blinked away. "I love you, Tom Marvolo Riddle." He said truthfully, pulling his head forward so their foreheads touched.
For a second, Tom muttered something incoherent about the use of his 'filthy Muggle father's name'. "I can't wait until I can finally take your name." He finished, intertwining their left hands together. Their rings shone in the light. Quirrell had a golden ring with a red flower on top, and a snake coiled up in the center. Tom had a silver ring with a giant green snake taking the spot were the stone should be, holding a black rose in its mouth.
"You know for a fact I'm taking your name and you can't stop me!" Quirrell sang teasingly, reaching for the doorknob behind him. He knew exactly what was coming.
Tom set his jaw, raising both eyebrows in what was meant to be a menacing fashion, but the glint in his eyes told otherwise. "Oh really?!" His hand joined Quirrell's on the doorknob, eager to join him in opening the door, but it was locked. He shook it, but no luck. "AAAAH! Damn door! I blame that book!"
Quirrell couldn't help it, he laughed. Getting out his wand, he pointed it at the door. "Alohomora." He said smoothly. In response, the door glided open.
"Nice..." Tom complimented, before literally pushing Quirrell into the room and closing the door behind them, pinning him to the door and meeting his lips not long afterwards.
Both men's hearts skipped several beats, as they both enjoyed themselves. It was as Tom's lips found Quirrell's neck, however, that a light reflected into Quirrell's eyes. "Nyeeeh!" Quirrell made an exasperated noise that made Tom turn around.
"Who's in here, Squirrell?"
"No one... It's just - what's causing that light? It's pitch black in here... " Quirrell glanced at Tom in the semi-darkness to see he had withdrawn his wand and was now glaring everywhere in the room.
"Apparently, it's reflected off of this mirror." He lowered his wand, walking over to the item in question.
Following, Quirrell's hand touched Voldemort's arm. The younger boy could read the ex-Dark Lord's expression. "It's just a mirror, silly."
"Yeah, but... It looks - familiar..." Tom sighed, he HATED unsolved mysteries. It reminded him of Harry in the book when he was in first year, trying to get the Philosophers stone, which of course was hidden in the mirr- "I know what this is!" Tom whispered, suddenly excited.
Quirrell looked at his fiancee. "What? What is it?"
Laughing, Tom gently steered Quirrell next to the mirror. "OK, what do you see? Truthfully?"
Deciding this was a joke, Quirrell quickly glanced at the reflection in front of him. "I see me, and you. What does the mirror do?"
"NOOO! Look properly!" Pouting, Tom crossed his arms and made his bottom lip tremble. The puppy dog face never failed to give Quirrell feels.
Eyes wide, Quirrell stroked Tom's face. How could he resist? "OK fine..." He looked in the mirror, continuing to look into it, before turning to Tom. "I see you and me. We're holding hands and laughing, as we were a few minutes ago. And-" Quirrell gasped. "I see Ginny! She's got the completed adoption forms, as well as the certificate off Social Services saying we are legally her dads. She's holding a little girl's hand, she can't be more than six or seven. She has your face and eyes, but my nose and hair colour, in pigtails... We're much older than we are now." For a second, Quirrell felt deeply deeply shocked, but soon longing was shown on his face. "What is this Mirror?"
Voldemort stepped into the reflection. The vision stayed, because Voldemort longed for exactly the same thing. "It's the mirror of Erised. It shows you what you desire the most." A slight smile twitched onto his face as the reflection of the little girl now pulled on Tom's trousers, holding up a crisp packet. The reflection took one and grinned, eating it.
The reflections turned to Tom and Quirrell and smiled knowingly. "Just look at how far we've come, Tom." Quirrell beamed proudly, with tears and sadness in his eyes. "I-is it bad that- that sometimes, I wish we could see how thing were before? So we could watch everything over and over and over again?"
"No not at all, I do too" Tom's voice sobered. He swallowed twice before continuing. "Sometimes... I wish we could go back, just for a bit to how it was, when we were one soul."
"Me too Tom..."
The weirdest thing happened not long after Quirrell had said that. The reflections gave a final wave and walked out of the frame. Of course, that wasn't considered weird. After all, this happened all the time at Hogwarts. But it was what happened next that was extraordinary.
A man, a man that looked nothing at all like Quirrell, had appeared out of the foggy background. What worried the pair most was that despite the fact that the man did not look anything at all like Quirrell, he held in his arms what looked like a Purple turban. And the man had what looked like a pale nose-less slit eyed Lord Voldemort stuck on his head.
(Dimension Skip)
Quirinus walked through the corridors of Hogwarts with his head bent low, shaking and shivering and occasionally twitching his right eye. Occasionally, he would glance up and down the corridors he passed, looking for a certain hook-nosed greasy haired potions teacher, making sure he was out of sight. A pull at the back of his head told him that he was being summoned by his Master. Did he have time? He looked at his watch and saw there was merely twenty minutes to go until he was due to teach to fifth year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.
"Master, with all due respect, I have to keep up my persona. Can't it wait?" He muttered out of one side of his mouth, trying not to look suspicious.
A bigger, more painful tug erupted from the back of his head, causing Quirinus to wince. "Fine, OK!" He murmured loudly, causing the children around him to turn around and give him a weird look. "N-now now, n-n-no stopping in th-the corridor, qu-quickly now, to your les-lessons or Dormitories." Opening a random classroom door, he opened it up and peeked around the door, double-checking no one was inside.
Thankfully, the classroom only had one door, which Quirinus closed and locked. Not long after, he removed his turban to reveal Voldemort.
"When I want to talk to you in private, you better LISTEN!" Voldemort started, as soon as Quirinus removed the hat that he now called his prison.
Sighing, Quirrell bowed his head slightly. "I apologize Master, but I'm due to teach in just over a quarter of an hour, and we don't want Severus being any more suspicious of us than he is already."
Quirinus was right. He knew he was right, and he could feel Voldemort in the back of his head agreeing that he was right, even if he wouldn't admit it. This made his heart soar. "No excuses. You do not talk back to me! You hear me? YOU DO NOT!" At the exact moment Voldemort started screaming, a dull pain flashed through his head, slowly increasing in intensity until Quirinus couldn't stand. He screamed silently, biting down on his fist to muffle any noise.
Jut as suddenly as it came, the pain went. Quirinus stayed frozen where he was, scared someone had entered the room. "Is that... is that a mirror?" Voldemort whispered.
Raising his head slightly, he noticed the tall reflective object on the other side of the room. He stared at it, for a second, drowning out any incoherent mumbling Voldemort. A kind of old magic hung in the room, a tension building. The object, it was... hypnotizing...
"WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT DAYDREAMING!" The yell caused Quirinus to jump and flinch, waiting for the pain to come. Voldemort had planned on using the bit of magic he had left to Crucio the young man's brains again, but something about the action he just did, it bothered him. It made him want to, dare he say it, comfort him. No! That was weak thoughts. The very mention of any kind of kindness, even in his brain, disgusted him.
"I'm so s-sorry Master..." Quirinus started crying, the pain from the previous punishment still there. He didn't want to disappoint his Lord. In all truth, he was just grateful to be a part of his plan, to be close to him...
"Stop crying, Quirinus..." Voldemort all but sighed. "The reason I called you in here is to discuss with you the next stage of the plan."
Blinking away the tears, Quirinus nodded. "What do you want me to do, My Lord?"
A twitch at the back of Quirinus's head told the man that he had tilted his head awkwardly to think. This particular quirk was one of the one's he had subconsciously picked up off Quirinus. "Thanks to your detective work a few weeks ago, we can now confirm the ways to get past the spells and charms that Flitwick, and Sprout had cast to protect the stone. The next step is to find out what McGonagall is planning, leaving only Severus and that damned beast. Save the worst till last..." He trailed off in thought. "We need to get her on her own, then you allow me to read her mind-"
Voldemort couldn't say that Quirinus wasn't listening. Every word that came out of the Dark Lord's mouth listened and registered into Quirinus's brain and his responses were genuine. The nods of the heads and the murmurs of agreement were enough for the Dark Lord. The only thing that stopped Quirinus paying one hundred percent attention to his Master was the fact that the damn mirror was in his line of vision. Somewhere, at the back of his head, a thought registered that he recognized the Golden frame, the peeling lettering...
Then it hit him.
He stood up slowly, picking his turban up with him. A confused Voldemort questioned his actions and, surprisingly, Quirinus ignored him. He was directly in front of the mirror, so why wasn't he being shown what he wanted, what he needed? All he could see was himself and his Lord, exactly as they were now. As much as Quirinus enjoyed the company of the Dark Lord, who was actually quite witty and clever when he wasn't plotting Potter's demise, or trying to torture him, this couldn't be all he desired. There had to be something more. For them both.
Torture wasn't on Voldemort's mind right now. He had shut up and decided to listen to Quirrell's thoughts with a curious expression on his face. What do you mean, Quirinus Quirrell? He thought. What do you think, feel? What DO you desire.
Both of them gasped when a fog descended on the mirror, blocking their reflection. In it's place were two men, kissing. Gasping, he span round, sure he had locked the door. But there was no one there. Slowly turning back, he saw the men were still there. Then it clicked. The men only existed in the reflection.
As much as Quirinus wanted to look away, this image must have been shown to him for a reason. Why? The men stroked each other's bodies, whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears, before one of the men started to kiss the other's neck. OK, fine, nothing weird there. Until the one receiving the kisses opened his pale blue eyes. And looked at the mirror.
He was looking in their direction.
Frozen, thoughts ran, one after the other, through both men's minds. Should they withdraw their wands? Break the mirror? Flee? Hide behind the mirror so that they couldn't be seen? But all plans disappeared when the two men approached the mirror, the one looking at what was probably the frame, the glass, anywhere except at the two men. The vision was one sided.
While the two reflections looked in shock, joy and longing at whatever they desired, it gave Quirinus time to think. Who were they? The one obviously had his eyes, but the other? Nothing was familiar about the bulging muscles that were hidden under a t-shirt and jeans. In fact the only things familiar were the pale skin and lack of nose.
"Yeah, go with that thought, Sherlock." Voldemort spoke sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
So yes, that was the representation of Voldemort. So who was the man? I mean, he had his eyes-
"Oh COME ON! It's obvious! IT'S YOU!"
"Bu-but it can't be. Lo-look at w-what they were j-just doing!"
"This IS the mirror of Erised."
So Voldemort was what he desired.
It was just as he thought that sentence that a look of confusion passed his other counterparts face and he made direct eye-contact with Quirinus.
"I... I think they can see us."
(Dimension Skip)
"Wow... that's us." Quirrell's confusion had turned into fascination. "But why don't they look, you know, EXACTLY like us?"
Tom physically shrugged. "I honestly don't know Quirrell..." He trailed off, noticing how close his partner got to the reflection. "Hey, watch it. You don't know what's going on." He gently touched his arm.
Smiling up at his fiancee, Quirrell nodded. "I'll be careful. Anyways, it's just a reflection, representing our joint desire to be one again."
Both men paused, Tom raising one eyebrow at the sexual innuendo that Quirrell didn't cotton on to until a few minutes later. He turned to the reflection to distract himself, and raised one finger, slowly guiding it left and right, just to make sure he could actually see them. Apparently, they could.
They both once again made eye contact. But the reflection was the first one to speak.
Hi.
No noise was made. How could there be any noise? After all, it was only a reflection. But somehow, the lack of noise shocked Quirrell so much that there as a few second pause until he breathed the reply. "Hello."
(Dimension skip)
So... He could communicate with his reflection. Interesting. He had seen the pair confer, the love in their eyes imminent and a blush creep on his counterpart's face. He blushed? Since when?
To be polite, Quirinus nodded at the other man, the man who stood close to, well HIM, but not close to the mirror. The man nodded in response, not smiling. It didn't take a genius to realize he was trying to protect his... fiancee? That had to be the case, otherwise why would the pair be supporting rings on their wedding fingers? But just to double check...
"Are you and your Voldemort... you know... together?" He asked, gesturing his finger between the pair.
Another blush creeping on his counterpart's face made Quirinus realize that he had understood what he said. He nodded, bright red, holding up the ring. Engaged. He mouthed, slightly exaggeratedly. He was very good at mouthing words, to Quirinus's instant relief. What about you and your Tom?
"Oh, no no no!" To Voldemort's amusement, Quirinus automatically shook his head frantically. There was no way he and his Dark Lord would be together. No. Never in a million years. No...
Really? How weird... The reflection leaned his hand against the mirror.
(Dimension Skip)
"Really?" Quirrell exchanged a glance at Tom. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe, wherever they were, they hadn't gotten that close yet. Maybe, they'd only just started getting used to each other's company. "How weird..." He muttered, more to himself that Tom, or even his reflection. Tired from holding up his arm, he automatically rested his hand without thinking on the glass.
He didn't expect his hand to go THROUGH the glass.
"Wh-what's going on?" Quirrell said, his voice wobbling, trying to keep calm. IN truth, he was a little scared, but more at the thought of his hand being stuck forever.
Tom grabbed Quirrell's waist and pulled. The hand didn't budge. "Do you want me to go and grab help?" He asked, letting go of his partner's waist.
"Please." Quirrell replied. Tom had taken a few steps before- "Wait, who are we going to get help off of?"
Neither of them noticed the reflection reaching to touch the glass...
(Dimension Skip)
"What?!" Quirinus physically jumped back. His reflection's hand was LITERALLY going through his end of the mirror. There was no sign of the hand on their end, so where was it? Was there a mid point? Somewhere to be stuck to?
"Quirinus, I know what you're thinking, and that is NOT a good idea..." Voldemort said simply.
"Voldemort, it's a mirror, what's the worst that could happen?" Quirinus replied, stepping forward.
As their reflections tried to pull Quirrell's arm out of the mirror, Quirinus himself stepped forward. How was he going to do this? Place his hand on the spot where is doppelganger had?
"Quirinus..." For the first time ever, the Dark Lord's tone had something more than anger and hate in it. It had concern... and fear?
Wow, the Dark Lord concerned. He probably just doesn't want to waste time exploring this halfway point. Too bad, he shouldn't have attached his soul to him then.
But the Dark Lord knew. Voldemort knew what was going to happen. He'd read about it somewhere before. "Quirinus Quirrell, I'm begging you, please don't put your HAND ON THAT MIRROR PLEASE DON'T!" His voice rose to a scream and as he yelled that last word.
It was too late. His hand fell through and unlike his counterpart, who was waiting for the connection to this world, he felt the tug instantly. A light spilled from the hole his hand filled, separating Voldemort and himself. That was the exact moment fear filled his soul. Was this going to be the last time he saw this world? The last time he saw his Master?
"I'm sorry, my love, I've failed you." He sobbed quietly as the light invaded him and he was physically sucked from where he stood into the mirror.
(Dimension Skip)
"I don't know, Potter maybe? You're amazingly brilliant at these things, can you thi-" He turned around as the light appeared.
That was it. Quirrell was terrified. "Tom? What's going on?!" His voice was high pitched and his eyes filled with horror as he turned towards the older man.
Tom watched Quirinus disappear into the mirror, and he knew what was coming next. "Quirrell NO!" He ran forward to grab the younger boy.
Quirrell didn't look away from Tom, not even when he was being pulled away. The tears fell, but he wanted the one person he loved more than life itself to be the last thing he ever saw. "Take care of Ginny."
Tom's fingertips were millimeters away, and even brushed Quirrell's sweet skin, before cruel fate sucked him out of existence. "NO, NO, QUIRRELL!" He literally screamed, tears quickly forming. Ready to follow him into the beyond, he ran at the mirror with enough force to make it wobble when he made contact. Because the other Voldemort did not make contact, the gateway was now sealed. "NO NO, Please, don't go... D-don't go... Come ba-ack to me Squirrell. To us..." The tears fell loudly as Tom sobbed, banging on the glass. He was too slow, if only he had been faster, if only he had took better care of Quirrell.
Behind him, a figure in Quirrell's clothes looked up, first at Tom, then at the mirror, deep sadness in his eyes.
(Dimension Skip)
Darkness... Darkness everywhere. Where was he? In the mirror, in hell? Oh wait, his eyes were just closed.
Quirrell opened his eyes. He was lying on a floor. Wait a minute, he hadn't moved! The mirror must have let him go! Grinning, he sat up rather quickly, causing a shooting pain to go through his head. Ah, that must be where he landed. But where was Tom? He looked around, panic slowly causing Quirrell to jump and look around.
"Tom?" He called. "Tom, where are you?!" Calm down, a part of him said. Maybe he ran for help, like he said he would. But what if the mirror had got him?
He was about to turn around when a voice interrupted his trail of thought. "My love? What the hell did that mean?" The voice wasn't angry, but soft and thoughtful.
Spinning around quickly, Quirrell could tell that there was no one else in the room. He didn't call out, the events of the past five years of his life, from the moment he went on holiday to Albania all up to two minutes ago, had made him smarter. He knew not to call out, but instead to raise his hands slowly to feel the back of his head. The first thing he realized, as ide from the slight bit of hair at the exact top of his head, Quirrell was now bald. He whimpered.
"Oh, get over yourself, Quirinus knock-off! I'm bald, AND grey AND I have a nose the size of Severus's sex life. Not to mention the tiny little fact that I DO NOT OWN A BODY!"
There is was, the face of Lord Voldemort, attached to his head. But it wasn't HIS Voldemort, it was the OTHER him's Voldemort. Which meant...
He turned round, seeing Tom sobbing in the reflection of the mirror. Quirrell was on the wrong side.
"TOM!"
(Dimension Skip)
He had all but lost hope when a voice in his head screamed Tom!
He looked up. Sure enough, there was his Quirrell, the man he loved. "You're alive..." He whispered weakly, rising to his feet as his Quirrell ran to the mirror. He rested a hand on the glass, praying that somehow they could be reunited, but it wasn't possible.
Tears fell from Quirrell's eyes. It broke Tom's heart, he just wanted to hold his Squirrell and wipe the tears from his gorgeous face. "I'll bring you back. I promise., we'll be together again." He whispered, meaning every word.
Quirrell nodded... I know. I love you.
Tom smiled, wiping his tears away, and opened his mouth to reply when Quirrell suddenly turned his head sharply to the left. "Wha-" The mirror image fogged up again. "No. Quirrell, come back! Quirrell, don't leave! I HAVE TO GET YOU OUT! QUIRRELL!"
(To be continued...)