QUIRINUS grimaced as the daunting centuries-old castle exuded an intimidating aura as Quirinus waited in the Courtyard for Elisabeth to arrive. She had happily accepted his dinner date and agreed to spend an evening with him in Hogsmeade, much to his disbelief and elation. They would have dinner at the Three Broomsticks and top the evening off with something sweet from Hogsmeade.
Perhaps take a stroll through the quaint wizarding villages, window shopping and perusing a few of the shops that caught their interest enough to want to get a better look. He fidgeted and awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the next as he stared at his reflection in the small mirror he had conjured to do one final check of his appearance. He hoped he looked good enough to impress Elisabeth.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he ran a hand through his wavy dark brown hair, relishing feeling the thick tresses in between his slender fingers. Though the fact that his hair was now fully grown back and his change of clothes into something appropriate for a first date did nothing to hide his thinner frame or much paler face, or the monstrous burn mark under his eye that was a permanent reminder of his failures, that he could not even remember. He had gone to the Headmaster shortly after Peeves' little outburst, elated that Elisabeth had agreed to a date with him, and yet terrified at the thought that he would say or do the wrong thing around her and make a terrible mistake. He wanted to remember everything that he had done over the last year and had spoken with Albus Dumbledore at length until the wizard, worn down from arguing with Quirinus over the matter, had agreed to restore his memories. But there were conditions.
He would do so only in careful portions, and he would not do it until tomorrow morning, after their date, considering Peeves had let the whole castle know, despite Quirinus's best efforts to keep the matter between the two of them.
Quirinus, though he had reddened maddingly at the notion that the entire castle now knew of his feelings for Elisabeth, and her feelings had been exposed as well, had assented and left the warlock's office, relieved, at least, that his memories would be restored come the morning. He had to crane his neck up to look at each tower as the slowly setting sun's light flowed over the quiet castle.
The students had finally gone home for the summer holidays, and the castle had never been quieter. The warm and welcoming hues from before had since dulled to a cool and formidable hue as the sun was beginning to set. Quirinus thought it strange how Hogwarts could look so formidable in this light, even in the midst of early summer. A certain uneasiness filled his chest. He had found it difficult to concentrate on anything over the last two days while Elisabeth had been forced to remain cooped up in the Hospital Wing while her finger healed, though, with his care and concern coupled with Madame Pomfrey's expertise, she was quickly discharged though told to return immediately if she felt any searing pains or experienced any sort of nerve damage in her newly regenerated finger.
He had become so lost in constructing scenarios for the evening ahead, that he had not been able to concentrate on putting together his lesson plans for the fall's Muggle Studies courses. His day had ebbed slower than old treacle. Quirinus's usual slouch had been replaced by a stiff mannequin pose. Elisabeth had told him she would meet him in the Courtyard at six, and they would walk down to Hogsmeade together. His Elisabeth, his woman, with her rich chocolate brown eyes and warm white smile.
He imagined touching her red hair as he kissed her again, he would tell her a funny joke as Madame Rosmerta brought them a plate of fish and chips or heaping plates of rotisserie smoked chicken with corn on the cob and roasted potatoes.
If he closed his eyes to concentrate hard enough, he thought he could already hear the chatter of the other patrons and the clinking of their plates as everyone sat down to their food and enjoyed the evening ahead of them.
The uneasiness in his chest worsened as the seconds ticked by and turned into agonizingly slow minutes. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, double-checking for the third time to ensure that he had his wallet. He had more than enough Galleons to cover their date, but it did not stop him from worrying about anything that could go wrong.
There was a part of Quirinus that was utterly terrified. His ears were burning, and his heart was in his throat the longer he glanced at his reflection in the mirror, at the ugly burn mark under his eye that was a permanent reminder and a map of where his life had gone wrong. What would she think of him, truly? Would she look upon him tonight during their date in fear or disgust? This was his first official date with a woman, let alone with a witch who had first and foremost been his best friend, and he cursed himself and Albus Dumbledore for taking away his memories of their time together, the good and the bad.
He could not wait for the moment when his memories were restored. What if Elisabeth was beginning to have second thoughts? He glanced down to check his wristwatch, having to roll up the sleeves of his thick black sweater in order to do so. She was almost ten minutes late. This was crazy. No, he was crazy for having suggested this. He gnashed his teeth together and closed his eyes.
He was beginning to have second thoughts and was already regretting asking her to dinner. He wondered if he'd made a grave mistake by asking her out. If, at the end of the date, he went to kiss her again, what if she ran from him out of disgust or fear or hatred, having taken advantage of the time they'd spent together apart today to consider over-accepting and had changed her mind?
But as much as the terror within him kept rising, no matter how many images Quirinus conjured in his mind of Elisabeth running away or scorning him for past mistakes that he could not currently remember, he simply could not see his friend in that light. She had kissed him, and of her own volition and had not shirked away out of fear or disgust. She had not insulted him. It did not seem right.
He simply could not imagine her behaving that way. Quirinus furrowed his brows into a frown and winced, the skin near his burn scar stretching, pulled taut and tight and it hurt. He had not slept well at all the last two days while Elisabeth had remained in the Hospital Wing, plagued with nightmares of Crouch finding her, killing her.
The shadows underneath his eyes were a telling enough sign, he thought. What he wouldn't give for a full night's rest. He was so nervous as he thought of how best to explain himself, the deep purple bags underneath his eyes would be the first thing Elisabeth would notice when she saw him and would ask about it, immediately concerned. He did not want to worry her. He'd spent half his day thinking what to say to her, and the other half wracking his brain as he'd crafted his little savior if his words should happen to fail him tonight. Quirinus stuffed the bit of magic into his jacket pocket and took one last look at himself in the shard of the mirror he held in his hand.
He ran his other free hand not clutching the small mirror through his hair again and straightened his thick black knit sweater. He swayed a little on the spot with both nervousness and exhaustion, taking in a final breath to steady his nerves.
"Don't make a fool of yourself," he whispered hoarsely to the sickly-looking absurdly overdressed man in the mirror, when a voice in the darkest corners of his mind spoke, teasing him.
It's too late for that. You've already made a fool of yourself, several times over. A sudden and sharp pang thrashed through his heart the moment the words were out of his mouth.
For reasons Quirinus could not explain, he felt…wrong. Or more so, the feelings he held for Elisabeth were wrong. They had to be.
How could a witch as beautiful and kind as she was, possibly see anything worth of value in a wizard-like him? But even now, Elisabeth's peaceful smile and bright sparkling eyes drenched the flustered wizard's memory. He never would have imagined a witch could have invoked these forgotten feelings and yet, here he stood on legs that could barely support his body weight with how nervous he was, scarred, and beaten, but still feeling, yes.
Of course, the only consolation he could offer himself to assuage his guilt was that his feelings for Elisabeth Raywood were new for the moment, at least until Dumbledore agreed to restore his memories, but they still held a familiar sense to them, like a distant fond memory.
However, something inside of him still fought against it.
These feelings he felt for his friend left him light and breathless and debating whether or not he was having a panic attack or a heart attack. Either one seemed plausible enough given the pain in his chest and his temporarily paralyzed state as he could not move. But underneath all of it, there was something dark stirring within him, that "wrong" feeling Quirinus did not know what to make of.
Not only did he feel "wrong," but a snake-like voice chimed a warning bell at the back of his mind, a voice that sounded entirely too much like Lord Voldemort's for his comfort. It taunted Quirinus.
Do you honestly believe a pure-blooded witch like Elisabeth Raywood could care for you? Do you honestly think she sees past your appearance? You are nothing to her, Quirinus, nothing but a monster. She only agreed to see you out of pity, nothing more and nothing less than that, though she will leave you to give her first opportunity. Why would she choose you when she could have a man like Bartemius?
These intrusive thoughts left the wizard speechless and pondering if there was any semblance of truth to them at all. The small flower he'd held in his hand that he'd conjured, hoping to surprise Elisabeth with it, a small white lily flower, was almost forgotten as his hold on the delicate little plant loosened greatly.
His eyes were left unblinking as the voices continued taunting him. Oh! And what would dear old Dad say to you if you could see you're dating her? A heavy hand found its way back to his face.
Quirinus squeezed his exhausted eyes shut in hopes to block out the mocking voice laced with amusement and judgment. He wanted nothing to tarnish his evening with Elisabeth, though the anticipation of the evening ahead he felt reminded him that Crouch was still very much a problem in Elisabeth's life, one that he could not stand by and let go unsolved.
He would have to track the man down and deal with Barty himself. He would not allow Elisabeth to remain here at Hogwarts, trapped like a rat, never able to go past Hogsmeade, out of fear that she would be found. That was no life for her to live. Though he dreaded having such a conversation with Elisabeth.
His breath hitched in his throat as the voice continued its taunting of him.
If you truly loved her, you would not have abandoned her to join me.
"NO!" His cracking voice was ripped from his lips as though his startled cry would be the silencer to the dark demonic voices inside of his head. His shallow breathing had worsened as time passed. "Y-you're wrong, I-I-I'm ha…haa…happy," he spat out the last word with great difficulty.
Quirinus let out a groan and buried his head in his hands, pieces of dark brown locks sticky every which way as his fingers entangled themselves into his thick head of hair. The lily he'd conjured for Elisabeth fell to the cement ground as the soft cool evening breeze carried the feeble little thing to rest by his shoes.
The poor man was nearly hysterical at this point and had he not taken a staggering step backward, he would have accidentally crushed the petals of the lily flower as the petals bent, connecting with the cool cement ground of the Courtyard. His lungs began to burn as the cooling air thrashed in and out of him at a speed that he did not think he could slow down for the life of him.
Quirinus was sure that hot wretched tears would slip from the edges of his eyes at any moment. He swallowed a lump in his throat and fought in vain to fight down the salty liquid.
This was supposed to be what he hoped would be a memorable night, one of the best in his life so far, and still at the young age of twenty-six. He did not want to taint Elisabeth's evening.
But the thundering of his heart numbed his chest, and thankfully, after a moment of almost deafening silence, the voice of his former master in his head ceased to torment him. The only thing his ears now heard was the slight breeze flowing around his trembling body. He kept his head pressed into his hands. His lungs were beginning to calm slightly, the burning feeling slowly but surely subsiding, for which he was grateful.
"I-I-I think that I…that I might…love her." Quirinus's tenor-like voice dropped an octave lower than he was used to. This was wrong, to go on a date with her. It had to be wrong.
What could she possibly see in a man like him? He had nothing of value to offer her. If she stayed with him, her name likely would be dragged through the mud along with her as he was sure to face repercussions for his actions of returning to Hogwarts as a parasite, with his body serving as a host to the Dark Lord.
Surely, he would be facing a trial for his crimes. He could not—would not—put her through that. What would Elisabeth say to all this if she could see him now? This time, the internal voice was that of his own. The question swirled around Quirinus's throbbing head as he felt the beginnings of a headache coming on.
As the silence around him thickened, a horrible abrupt bitterness seeped its way into his stomach, churning it into knots and making him feel slightly ill.
Barty. Barty had been the reason Elisabeth had not returned his affections when they were in school, he was almost sure of it.
"I-if only…" Quirinus peeked an eye through his fingers. "I-if she had stayed, i-if I had listened to her…"
A lump formed in his throat as his breaths stuttered.
"No…" Quirinus shook his head violently as he immediately tried to dismiss such incriminating thoughts. He could not and would not, blame Elisabeth for something she was not responsible for. The blame was his.
He had made the choice to travel to Albania in search of Lord Voldemort, not Elisabeth. He mumbled a quick prayer to himself as he brought his trembling hands down in front of him, and his glazed-over dark eyes glanced down to the delicate white lily flower resting just in front of him.
With a frustrated sigh, he knelt down to the little plant and gingerly picked it up, resting it in the flat of his palm. He stared down at the lily flower with thoughtful eyes, his thoughts wandering yet again to Elisabeth for what seemed like the millionth time today. He closed his eyes and pressed the flower to his chest, hopefully. The memories of struggling to get through the day in anticipation of what was to follow this evening swirled in his mind. He was more than confused, and utterly lost, but something good was coming out of it. Elisabeth had agreed to a date with him. It was a start, perhaps it was something to build upon.
He rose back to his fatigued feet, still holding the plant to his chest, and a cry of surprise was ripped from his lips when a voice from behind him spoke, jolting him out of his thoughts.
"Miss Raywood has not stood you up, Quirinus." Professor Dumbledore stood a few paces away from Quirinus with his hands folded neatly in front of his middle. Quirinus parted his lips to speak, though nothing came out at first.
For a moment, Quirinus was stuck on the vibrant moon and star pattern of Albus Dumbledore's purple robes. Everything about the warlock this evening was purple, in fact, from his robes to the matching long purple scarf with one end thrown about his shoulder to keep the garment out of the way as well as to provide adequate warmth. Albus's cobalt blue eyes were twinkling as the Hogwarts Headmaster peered at him through the lenses of his half-moon spectacles. He appeared happy to see him, for which Quirinus was grateful, and yet, he sensed there was another reason for his surprise appearance. He lowered his head out of respect.
"H-Headmaster, th-thank you, I-I'm sure she'll be out soon, I-I d-did not e-expect you...I...is...is there something that I can do for you, Albus?" he swallowed down hard, alarmed at what on earth a house-elf from the kitchens could possibly want with Elisabeth, though he supposed he should just be relieved that she had not had second thoughts after all, and would be by his side soon enough. His shoulders tensed.
He felt worry and fear worm their way into his heart and wrap their icy tendrils around the feeble quivering muscle within his chest as the Hogwarts Headmaster nodded, his previously jovial expression clouding for a moment as a shadow of regret flitted across his lined features.
"I have just spoken at great lengths with the Minister of Magic, Quirinus, about what transpired with you and Harry Potter a few weeks ago. It was quite an exhaustive conversation and long, and I shan't bore you with the finer details, however, I thought it best that you should hear the news directly from me. The man was quite furious at the events that had taken place and insisted that you stand trial in front of the entire Wizengamot for the attempted murder of a minor, though he refuses to accept the fact that Lord Voldemort still lives, or that your actions were not your own, nor Miss Raywood's testimony," he informed Quirinus, sounding exasperated.
The terror must have been plastered all over his face like a Permanent Sticking Charm, for Professor Dumbledore was quick to continue in hopes of alleviating his Muggle Studies Professor's worst fears, being sent to Azkaban Prison, and never being allowed to see Elisabeth. Quirinus stared, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. If he were to be sentenced to Azkaban for his crimes, he would never see Elisabeth again. It hurt him to even think it, as he felt a little nagging pull on his chest. His eyes swelled up with tears and he sharply turned his head away, actively averting his gaze from the Hogwarts Headmaster. He did not wish for Dumbledore to see him as he was at present, vulnerable, weak, and a complete and utter mess on what was supposed to have been one of the best nights of his life. He had a woman who could love him, who cared for him, was not put off by his scar. What he wanted out of Elisabeth was not inappropriate, and he briefly considered whether or not she would be allowed to visit him in Azkaban if the Wizengmot chose to have him imprisoned.
It was inappropriate perhaps but not illegal.
But still. Elisabeth was not his wife nor kin of any relation, and so the Warden of Azkaban Prison might be able to refuse Elisabeth entry if he did not want the witch to get in. He turned pleading eyes towards Albus, suddenly desperate to hear the truth.
"I-I don't…what…what did you tell him about me, Headmaster?" he questioned, suddenly not sure he wanted to hear Dumbledore's answer, and yet, he had to get the question out, had to hear it.
Professor Dumbledore fixed him with a pointed stare that at first, Quirinus was not sure what to make of. He grimaced and did his best not to avert his gaze.
However, every fiber in his being wanted nothing more than to flee, to take Elisabeth and leave the country for a few years if that's what it took if it meant that they could be happy. He wondered what she would think of the idea, though before he could ponder it further, Albus spoke.
"I merely told the Minister the truth, Professor. Nothing more and nothing less than what they needed to know. I have explained this to Cornelius and a few of the more senior members of the Council of the Wizengamot at length and have even relinquished a vial of your memories, and Miss Raywood's as well, to present to the council as evidence, that your actions were not your own. Lord Voldemort used you, manipulated you, and took advantage of your deep-rooted want for respect for his own personal gain. Your actions were not your own and therefore, not your fault. You've nothing to be ashamed of."
Professor Dumbledore allowed the faint ghost of a smile to tug the edges of his mouth upward as a look of relief flooded Quirinus's face as he came to understand that Professor Dumbledore had vouched for his character, and perhaps had just saved his life.
"Th-thank you, Headmaster, but I still owe you and the entire staff and student body an apology come to the fall term wh-when everyone has returned," he stammered, glancing down at the delicate lily in his hands, staring at the flower for a moment thoughtfully as Quirinus struggled to collect his thoughts.
It felt like his mind was reeling with everything that happened.
He blew out a little breath and continued. Perhaps he could apologize with the dignity and class he had always hoped he would have, one day, and prayed that the Headmaster did not think him a fool.
"I was so bent on achieving respect and recognition, i-if what Elisabeth has told me the last few days are true, th-that I did not explain myself or reach out to anyone for help. I-I did not think of how my actions might look. To tell you now that I'm sorry, Albus, for everything, i-is surely not enough and likely never could be enough, b-but I am deeply sorry. I hope that one day, you can forgive me, a-and if you would have me back, I-I would like to spend the rest of my tenure here at Hogwarts trying to atone for my past mistakes," he blurted out, his words clumsy as he bit down on his lip and waited for Albus to speak.
Albus was silent for a moment before he spoke.
"If you truly mean what you say, then I have already forgiven you, as has Miss Raywood. You are forgiven, Quirinus, and I fully expect to see you at the start-of-term feast in September, and Miss Raywood I hope will be more than willing to accept a position as assistant Healer to Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing," he offered.
Quirinus let out a little breath he did not realize he'd been holding and nodded earnestly, euphoric at the thought that they would not have to be separated. He felt some hope swell in his chest.
"I-I will tell her myself tonight, Albus, o-over dinner, I-I'm sure she will be delighted to accept the post," he told him happily.
Professor Dumbledore caught the glossy and distant, almost wistfully dreamy look in his Muggle Studies Professor's eyes that sparked to life and looked at him with questioning eyes.
Quirinus was momentarily taken aback by how at ease Professor Dumbledore was feeling around him and had taken him back so quickly because he did not let his eyes be the only part of himself that did the question as he gestured to the lily in his hands.
"For Miss Raywood, I presume?" he asked, and only continued when the much younger wizard nodded shyly, a light pink blush speckling along his cheeks. "You do seem quite taken with Miss Raywood, Quirinus. You care for Elisabeth, then, yes?"
There were some situations where Professor Dumbledore possessed an even sharper tongue than Severus, Quirinus thought with a jolt. He stammered over his words, his cheeks flushed.
"She, I…we…well, we…Elisabeth a-and I have—haven't discussed anything yet," he blurted out, his usual eloquence flying out the window as the topic of his relationship with her was broached. His cheeks flushed as he felt the burn of Albus's gaze.
All formality abandoned, the Hogwarts Headmaster looked at him, a hint of fondness and excitement welling within his tone.
"I am relieved to see that the situation between the two of you is improving. Your feelings for her, when did all of this begin? When were you aware?" he questioned.
Dumbledore hoped he was not prying by asking, though if his Muggle Studies Professor were having any sort of flashes of his former memories at all and made aware of his feelings for the witch in that way, he needed to know. Restoring one's memories was a delicate process, and just like wiping a person's memory, it could be disastrous if done the wrong way.
Quirinus hesitated. He and Elisabeth really did need to discuss things first, where the two of them stood in terms of their exclusivity, though in his heart, he was sure that she was certain of her feelings for him, he had to be certain, and then there was the matter of Barty.
He would not let the snake in the night continue to slither in her path and haunt her.
Resentment churned deep within his belly at the way that he had forced Elisabeth to cut off her finger the moment he had slipped the ring onto her ring finger.
Bile rose in his throat as the still-too-vivid memory of seeing Elisabeth huddled in the corner of the girls' bathroom, clutching her bleeding hand and short a finger, flashed through his mind. Her scream still rang in his ears days later and haunted his dreams. He was sure he would never be rid of that moment.
He prayed that there was not something still buried and rooted deep within, leftover from his master's possession of his body. Perhaps some of his sorrows of the memories he could no longer remember were still affecting him in some way, and he wanted Barty to suffer for what he had done.
Quirinus's eyes grew soft with bitter, stinging tears and his previously hopeful expression dimmed as he spoke, his tenor-like voice softer than it had before.
"Barty is stalking Elisabeth, Headmaster. He cannot accept that Elisabeth wants nothing more to do with Barty. And he means to hurt her, I think," Quirinus whispered through his tears, barely able to find his voice as the truth came out easier than he expected.
"He will not touch either one of you within the confines of the Grounds, Quirinus, and if Mr. Crouch is so foolish enough to try, he will come to regret his decision, of that much, I can reassure you. You of all people should know there are a number of safeguards in place that surround the school and its grounds. He will not succeed in his attempts," Professor Dumbledore patiently reminded Quirinus. "You are both safe here. You both can start to heal and rebuild your lives together again." He tried to smile and instill in his teacher the hope he sensed was failing him. "If he attempts to contact you, he will be dealt with accordingly, you've my word on this," he attempted to alleviate Quirinus's fears.
Quirinus stood still and silent as an owl for several minutes, staring at the Headmaster, though not truly seeing Albus.
"I appreciate your concern, Headmaster, b-but I am afraid that it is no longer enough. I have to find him, Albus. Crouch," Quirinus said plainly. He glanced curiously out of the corner of his lowered gaze and attempted to gauge the Headmaster's reaction, though if Albus was surprised at all, the warlock was good at hiding it.
"For what reasons?" Dumbledore's expression grew concerned.
Quirinus looked up sharply at the Headmaster, and held the eccentric wizard in his stare, hardly daring to believe the turn their conversation had taken, or that his mood was slowly turning foul.
"Professor, Elisabeth will never truly be safe here as long as Crouch's obsession with her runs so thick he can think of little else except finding her again. The man is paranoid and delusional, he put a Tracking Spell on her ring, and a Permanent Sticking Charm on it, besides! He left Elisabeth with no other choice available but to cut off her finger in the most painful way possible, Headmaster, man has to be stopped!"
A cloud of remorse coupled with understanding passed over Albus Dumbledore's angular and wrinkled features.
"You would truly find it within yourself to kill Bartemius? You could take a man's life so easily?" he acknowledged, his questioning stare turning into one of incredulous disbelief, as though he were viewing his former student and now Muggle Studies Professor in a new light.
Quirinus nodded, feeling, for the first time since he had brought Elisabeth to Hogwarts, sure of himself.
"Y-yes, sir. I-I d-don't want to, Albus, but if the man leaves me no choice, then I will do whatever I can to protect her, sir, he-he threatened the one person who means more to me in this world than anything else, Headmaster, a-and I'm always going to protect that which I love. Even if it means killing," he told Dumbledore, wanting to contain his honesty and lie to the Headmaster, and yet, something about that felt wrong. Despite his best efforts to contain the truth, he could not. He blew out a deep breath and continued, hoping, praying, that the Headmaster would see the logic behind his reason. "I cannot allow Crouch to continue to be a threat to her. T-to us, I...I won't let him take her from me," he determined passionately. "The man does not deserve to live after what he did to her." His resolve was steadfast.
Several seconds of a heavy and awkward silence passed between the two men until Professor Dumbledore spoke again.
"And what of Miss Raywood, Quirinus? What about Elisabeth?" he asked. "How will she feel about your decision?" he questioned, the warlock's expression as grim as a graveyard, the wizard's lips pursed into an angry thin line of disapproval.
"About taking care of the man who forced her to cut off her own ruddy finger and who would see her as his prisoner, Headmaster?" Quirinus made an odd noise of dissent through his nose and scoffed. "I suspect I will have to hold her back. Elisabeth will likely want that pleasure herself," he predicted.
"I meant you leaving her," Dumbledore clarified, quietly correcting himself as he realized Quirinus had mistaken his meaning. "You left her once before. You will remember it tomorrow morning, Quirinus," he reminded him, warning him.
"I-I h-have no doubt th-that was different, Albus." Quirinus's jaw tensed as he swallowed hard. "I-I was a fool," he confessed, his expression pained. "Elisabeth knows I love her. O-or a-at least. I hope she does. She…she will understand why it h-has to be this way."
He tried to convince himself more than Professor Dumbledore at this moment and hated to hear the lack of conviction in his tone that he knew he desperately needed in order to sell the argument he really wanted to make.
"I hope you are right, Quirinus," Professor Dumbledore spoke solemnly, glaring at Quirinus as he swallowed hard.
The Hogwarts Headmaster turned on his heels to go, though before he could depart the Courtyard and quit the scene entirely, a thought occurred to Quirinus. How was it he had survived?
"H-how did I survive, Albus? Potter, h-his attack, it…it should have killed me, so how is it that I still live and breathe? Wh-why am I here, why am I still alive?" he blurted out, noticing how Dumbledore had stopped in his tracks, his movements stilled, as he slowly swiveled his head to regard Quirinus to attend to his words.
"It was love that saved Harry Potter's life in the underground chamber, and Elisabeth's love for you, and your love for her in return, that saved yours, and love that is giving you a second chance at life again, Professor Quirrell. I suggest that you take advantage of your evening tonight with Miss Raywood and not waste the second chance that has been given to you, for they are so very rarely often given, Quirinus. I suggest that it is with Miss Raywood with whom you should be having this discussion, not me," he advised, his expression grim. "Professor, if you will excuse me, good night, and good luck," was the only thing Albus Dumbledore said to Quirinus.
Albus then turned and walked away. Albus Dumbledore left a stunned Quirinus to ponder his words, the lily in the wizard's hand all but forgotten as Quirinus stared after him.