A/N: It's great to see people following the story. I'd love to hear what you think about it as well. Enjoy!

oOo

Teaching was harder than Tom had ever imagined it would be, and while there had been the temptation to be ineffective…he found himself unable to do less than his very best. He had cursed the position specifically because he had wanted it and Dumbledore denying him had driven him to a near fury. Hogwarts had been the only real home he'd ever known and being here again, surrounded by its familiar walls, was soothing in its own way. There was still the desire to seize power, but strangely enough it was lessened by getting something he'd always wanted.

The first-year students were divided into two sections, Slytherin/Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff/Gryffindor. He'd been quite impressed with young Theodore Nott, and was certain that he'd be near the top of the year without much competition. The Hufflepuff/Gryffindor class was currently in front of him and other than a single, muggle-born witch, they were impressing him only with the depths of their ignorance.

"Did anyone, other than Miss Granger, read through the first chapter of their text?" he asked, looking around the room with a sinking feeling of disappointment. It was a shame he couldn't crucio the little darlings, he'd always found it remarkably motivating. "Before next class I expect you to have read the first three chapters of your text, and prepared two feet on Doxies. There may or may not, be a short quiz at the beginning of class." He stood and walked to the blackboard.

"Since you appear to be the only student remotely prepared, Miss Granger, you may read ahead and prepare me two feet on Gnomes. Five points to Gryffindor, for preparedness," he said and began to lecture on the Doxy, a common pest and something that nearly every witch and wizard would come across at least once in their lives. As he lectured, he heard mutters around the bushy-haired child in the front row, not so quiet hisses of 'know-it-all' and 'teacher's pet'. He wouldn't address it, but he could see that it was bothering the girl. He'd faced his share of it at first, before he'd taught the other in his House some healthy respect for exactly what a 'know-it-all' could do to them, when properly motivated. The girl would simply need to find her spine, and do the same.

oOo

Tom collapsed into the comfortable armchair in the staffroom, just after last bell on Friday. He had survived his first week, and he felt as if he'd been wrangling dragons rather than teaching children. No wonder Snape always looked so sour.

"How are you managing, Quirinius?" Fillius came and sat down across from him. "A fair bit different from Muggle Studies I wager?" The diminutive Professor had a teasing smile on his face.

"That's putting it lightly." He gave a wry smile. "I am enjoying the challenge of it, however. It's a fascinating subject, and at least the children seem to be fairly engaged, for the most part. That's one difference from Muggle Studies I don't mind in the least."

"There are some impressive new students this year. I'm normally somewhat partial to my Eagles as you well remember, but young Miss Granger is simply a delight and Mr. Nott's essay on the levitation charm was wonderful. I do expect great things from them both as we move forward," Fillius said.

"Yes, I had noticed them both as well. It is early in the year though," he said.

"True, true. Well, if you run into any trouble with my Eagles, do let me know."

"Of course." He smiled in what he hoped was a friendly manner. His eyes drifted over to where Minerva was nattering away at Severus, complaining about the amount of points he'd taken from her House that day. Inwardly he found their little point feud amusing, but he was expected to be a straight-laced, impartial Ravenclaw. It wouldn't do to be caught smirking at them.

After sufficient time 'socializing', he excused himself to do some rounds and perhaps grab some recreational reading from the restricted section. Being a Hogwarts Professor certainly had its perks. Ten years of floating through the world as a bodiless wraith had made him appreciate the small pleasures of having a physical form. Little things like lingering under a hot shower in the mornings, or indulging in silky under clothes to feel the texture against his skin. The distinct pleasure of finishing a riveting book.

A decade of introspection had left him willing to concede that he had made errors in his original quest for power. Killing muggles and mudbloods, while enjoyable for his followers, had radicalized them and created too much forceful opposition. He would need to be more cautious this time around, or else face the same fate again.

The familiar scent of old parchment and musty tomes surrounded him as he swept into the Library. He nodded to Madam Pince, and continued through the stacks. He paused a moment, looking down a row to a lonely study corner, the very one that he'd claimed during his years at Hogwarts. Sitting there now was a familiar, bushy-haired first year. There was a stack of books on the corner of the desk, and she was furiously writing notes. Unbidden he felt a small smile cross his lips; it was like looking back in time. Like this small witch, he too had been alone, and woefully unprepared for the world he'd been thrust into.

No one had taken a moment to help him, letting him sink or swim on his own. He couldn't deny that it had made him stronger, but perhaps he could show her a small kindness. Abraxas had always told him that witches were different creatures entirely, and needed more considerate handling. He walked up a few rows and found a slender volume he'd discovered late in his second year. Slughorn should have pointed it out to him, but the wizard had always been too consumed by his favourites to notice a small orphaned boy struggling. He traced his thumb over the faded gilding on the cover: Guide to Pureblood Etiquette and Customs by Daedelus Fellwick. He headed back to where his student was busy working and cleared his throat.

"Miss Granger?" he said.

Her head shot up and she blinked. "Professor Quirrell." She smiled.

"I think you may find this book enlightening." He offered it to her. "I advise you sign it out and take the time to absorb everything in it."

Hermione took it and frowned. "But I'm muggle-born?"

"Know thy enemy, Miss Granger," he said. "The first step to learning to walk in their world is understanding them. Are you familiar with the old adage: When in Rome…?" As the look of understanding blossomed across her face, he nodded sagely.

"Thank you, Sir." Hermione took it and placed it in its own place on the desk.

"You're a bright girl, and I expect great things from you." He nodded and left her to digest both his words and the book.