I had this idea recently to take a peek into what Quirrell felt being possessed by our buddy Tom...and I thought it might be fun to see the OTHER side of Professor Quirrell...

Professor Quirrell was spending a regular day in Diagon Alley when suddenly the urge overcame him to use the bathroom. Holding his turban to ensure it would not slip off and reveal his master underneath, he slipped into the Leaky Cauldron and dashed into the loo.

He felt a little self-conscious, exposed, to his master, who was always by him; a blessing and a curse.

"What's this, Quirrell?" his master hissed to him. "Does my presence cause you discomfort?"

"No, master. Never," he muttered in response, though they both knew it was untrue.

Still, it was better than bathing, when his master would see him unclothed! The shame of it all — his pride, gone!

"Finish up, fool!" hissed the Dark Lord. "It's human nature; now hurry up so you can steal the Sorcerer's Stone!"

"Yes, master," muttered Quirrell gloomily, and he adjusted his robes and swept out of the men's room.

"Fool! Idiot! What were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself arrested and then what would become of me? And the Stone, where is it? Answer me! Crucio!"

Quirrell let out a scream of pain, not of his own volition. Even without a body, without a wand, his master still performed extraordinary magic.

"Indeed so. I am extraordinary."

To demonstrate his point, the Dark Lord sent another flicker of pain down Quirrell's body.

Quirrell whimpered.

His master retreated from his mind for a while, hissing, "Fool."

It was the end of a long, tiring day, and all Quirrell really wanted to do was curl up by the fire and have a steaming cup of hot chocolate and enjoy a good book.

So he chose his favorite novel off the shelf, tapped his wand to his mug and it filled with hot chocolate. Quirrell was so happy he wanted to hum a tune to himself — but stopped just in time. His master didn't like his singing.

He set his mug down, covered himself with a blanket, and opened the book. He began to read:

* * *

Her long, auburn hair smelled like roses as he swept her into his powerful arms. Her piercing gray eyes were locked on his with a fierce determination which only attracted him even more to her. His mouth captured hers and then he laid tiny kisses trailing down her neck, marking her as his.

She moaned in pleasure, which enticed more so. He wanted her now. He had to have her now, and she would yield to him…

He ripped off her shirt and grabbed her —

* * *

"Quirrell, what are you reading?"

Quirrell felt an uncomfortable heat rise to his cheeks, a feeling which he had become accustomed to quite often in his master's presence, in which he was, of course, all the time.

"Er…nothing, my Lord," he lied, though he knew his master would see through it immediately.

"Quite right, Quirrell. Now stand up."

"But why, my Lord?" he asked, puzzled.

"Be prepared to Disapparate."

"But —" Quirrell began.

"Silence!" the Dark Lord cut across him harshly. "You are going to Hogwarts tonight; I want you to spy on Albus Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore, my Lord?"

"Yes, don't make me repeat myself. Now get rid of that rubbish you're reading and go! Now!"

Drying a tear that fell from his eye, Quirrell sadly put down his favorite novel on the couch and slouched toward the door.

As he stood in the doorframe, he looked back at where he left it, wondering if he would ever turn those lust-filled pages again.

With a sob, he strode out the door and into the night.

Review please (and be honest!!) I know this wasn't my best work, and to tell the truth, I expected it to be funnier. Oh well.