Quirinus Quirrell
It is dark, shadowy. The pillars rise tall above him. Quirinus Quirrell stands, shaking, naked. His turban is long gone. He feels exposed and immediately goes to cover himself. Just as soon as he does this, a cloaked figure emerges from the pillars. Quirrell gulps, his hands clutching his privates tighter. He dares not speak.
The cloaked figure raises its hand. It does not speak either, but it draws Quirrell to him. Shrieking, Quirrell finds himself in front of it. When he looks up into the hood, he sees nothing but pitch-black mass. "Who are you?" he croaks.
For whatever reason, the cloaked figure does not answer and instead strokes Quirrell's bald head, in the back. And suddenly, as he is petted, Quirrell knows this is no mortal meeting him. This being stretches far beyond humanity, and this both excites and petrifies Quirrell. Here is his new master.
There is not much left to do, other than to allow the cloaked figure to envelop Quirrell in his cloak and take off, flying with skeletal wings. Quirrell closes his eyes. Yes, yes—as long as he doesn't have to make the decision about where he goes next, he'll pledge himself to his new lord.
