The Parents of Wang Mu

by ShegoRulz

AVPM based. A series of one-shots about the exploration of Voldemort and Quirrell's new lives as parents to Wang Mu, their adopted daughter featured at the end of AVPSY. Quirrellmort, rated T.

5. Boggarts and Gilderoy Lockhart

So this was meant to be short but it escalated and ended up longer than the last chapter. I sense a theme in uploads here. Part of it's loosely based on the amazing frecleface's drawing, which is HERE: art/Oh-Gilderoy-378170456

ANYWAY, enjoy!

"I think I know why Wang was crying so much last night." Quirrell said as he walked down the stairs, doing up his tie blearily.

"Yeah?" Voldemort replied, pouring them both some coffee when Quirrell entered the kitchen area. "Why?"

"There's a hell of a lot of rattling from inside her closet. Sounds like a boggart." Quirrell picked Wang Mu up from her highchair, kissing her forehead. "No wonder you were scared, sweetie. I gotta take a look at that."

Wang Mu beamed at him, wriggling slightly in his arms. "Noooise. Lots of noise. Bad."

"I know. I'm really sorry. But we'll fix it, don't worry. It'll only take two seconds." Quirrell kissed her nose, resting her against his chest.

"A boggart? Makes sense." Voldemort sighed, taking a sip from his mug, still half-asleep. "Well hey, I can sort it when you're at work."

"Nah, I got time. I can do it just now. I was a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all." Quirrell chuckled, "Might as well put that short-lived career to the test. Besides, you look way too tired to even consider doing magic."

"You're probably right." Voldemort yawned. "What with the banshee over here keeping us up at three this morning." He ruffled Wang Mu's hair, before glancing at the clock. "Well, if you're insisting on getting rid of it, you probably better do it now. You don't want to be late."

"Yeah," Quirrell said as he placed their daughter back in her highchair before he snatched up his wand. "Well, you'll sleep better tonight anyway. The two of you."

"My hero." Voldemort said as he took another sip of his coffee. "Good luck. Don't get too scared now."

"Oh, please," Quirrell called over his shoulder, already walking up the stairs, "I'm ferocious." Wand in his hand, he nudged open Wang Mu's bedroom door, her closet rattling the closer he walked towards it. Ah, boggarts. He hadn't dealt with these particular fuckers in years.

First thing to do was open the closet door, he guessed. Then say 'Riddikulus' as quickly as possible before anything nasty popped out. Seemed like a plan, and one which he was more than capable of. Yes. Good.

That kind of all went out the window when he opened the closet door, of course, as he came face to face with a dementor. For a moment he froze, his eyes wide and his breathing quickening, before he raised his wand. Not real. Boggart. Not real.

He staggered back as his worst nightmare floated towards him, his wand now loose in his trembling hand. Spell, say the god damn spell, you know what it is, do it now.

"Ri – ri –" He swallowed, continuing to stumble away as it advanced. It was getting too close. He was freezing. The wand dropped from his hand and he desperately tried to get to the door. He couldn't do wandless magic if he was panicking.

He turned, his body going numb as he frantically grasped at the door handle, but there were voices now swirling in his head as the dementor neared; Bellatrix Lestrange, Ministry officials, other inmates and –

"Death Eaters, take him away."

"It won't do you any good trying to escape, Mr. Quirrell. I suggest you give up now before we are forced to resort to the Kiss."

"If you don't stop screaming I'll come over there and kill you myself, shutupshutupshutup."

And, worst of all, the dementor itself.

"Oh, hon, stop crying. You look like you need to talk. And I need to eat. So why don't you do us both a favour and let me look into that interesting little head of yours? That's it…that's it…"

XxX

Jeez, Quirrell really was taking a lot of time up there. He really was going to be late if he stayed any longer. Maybe it wasn't a boggart, just another thing that took up more time than anticipated. Either way, he was pushing it a bit.

Voldemort finished his coffee, glancing over at Wang Mu who was idly kicking her legs in her highchair, clearly too tired herself to kick up any sort of fuss this morning. "Well, he's taking his time, huh?"

"Daddy helping."

"I know. He's just been up there for over ten minutes now."

Wang Mu seemed to ponder this for a moment, before nodding. "Go see."

"Yeah?"

She nodded again. "Yes."

"Well. I'll be two minutes, alright?" He said, pocketing his own wand. "Be good and just carry on sitting there quietly."

"Ok, Papa."

"That's my girl." He ruffled her hair fondly before heading up the stairs, knocking on the door of Wang Mu's bedroom. "I hate to be a pain, man, but you know what you said about having time? Yeah, I think your time's up if you wanna get to work without being late. You're kinda pushing it as it is."

No response. Well then. A little worrying. Voldemort frowned to himself, before turning the door handle and shoving it open, to find Quirrell passed out on the floor, a dementor gripping his wrist and hovering over him. Well fuck.

"Expecto Patronum!" He snapped as he yanked out his wand and pointed it at the dementor, causing it to stagger back. Wha - oh shit, right, a boggart. Holy hell though was it realistic. Quirrell must've freaked out something awful, what with his massive phobia ever since Azkaban. "Riddikulus!" He yelled as the dementor turned into two gravestones, eventually disappearing with a loud crack.

Voldemort instantly scrambled over to Quirrell, who was still completely knocked out and was freezing cold to touch. Snatching up a blanket – the house was full of them seeing as both Quirrell and Wang Mu were sensitive to the cold – he wrapped it around Quirrell as best as he could, trying to make him sit up a little. "Quirrell? Quirrell. It's alright, it's gone. I'm sure you would've got it if, y'know, your worst fear wasn't a dementor, 'cause that's fucking scary and I don't blame you for being unconscious right now." He still wasn't moving. God damn it. "Um…you're gonna be late." Voldemort tried, because that tended to always wake Quirrell up whenever he overslept, though this was obviously far more serious than that.

Wang Mu was still downstairs and Quirrell was still knocked out up here, so the only logical thing to do was Disapparate downstairs with Quirrell so he could keep an eye on the two of them and wait until Quirrell came to. So that's what he did.

Wang Mu squealed a little at the noise as Voldemort Apparated in the living room, where he gently placed Quirrell on the couch. "I'm here, kid, sorry." He said hurriedly, returning to the kitchen and picking her up. "Daddy, uh, fell asleep." He continued as he walked back into the living room.

Wang Mu started giggling. "Silly."

"Yeah," Voldemort murmured as he sat down in their armchair, Wang Mu on his lap. "Silly. I'm probably gonna have to phone his work."

At that, Wang Mu gasped. "Daddy stay home? Home today?" She clapped her little hands in excitement, beaming up at Voldemort, who gently shushed her, though he was grinning too.

"Maybe." Voldemort glanced back at Quirrell, still curled up in his blanket and unconscious. "Actually, you know what, yeah. He's staying here."

"Bad thing gone?"

"Yeah, kid, all gone. Your Daddy's obviously a little tired after it though, so…I guess we wait until he wakes up, I don't know." Voldemort frowned slightly, realising Quirrell might kick up a fuss when he eventually came out of it, so maybe it'd be better if Wang Mu wasn't around. She didn't need to know about dementors or Azkaban or any of what Quirrell had gone through. Maybe one day, but not now. "So. Why don't you play here…" He got up from the armchair so they could sit on the floor, and he passed her one of her toy animals. "And I can watch the two of you?"

Wang Mu was looking up at the couch were Quirrell lay, and she sighed to herself. "Silly Daddy…" She repeated in a murmur, before hugging the toy to her chest. "Not bedtime."

Voldemort smiled and ruffled her hair again. "Yeah, it's a little early for sleeping. But…he's tired. Too tired for work." In other words, he'd likely be too traumatised to even consider it, but whatever. "Hey, hey, where're you going?"

Wang Mu could toddle a little bit now, which sooner or later was going to give Voldemort a heart attack seeing all the trouble she could cause, and now she had pulled herself up into a standing position using the couch as support. "Daaaaddy? Daddy! Wake uuuup."

"Wang, stop that." Voldemort said as he gently grabbed her by the waist and lifted her back towards him.

"Daddy's not fun." She muttered, sulking. "Sleeping. Boring."

"I'm sorry that he's asleep and that it's not very fun for you, but hey, you have me. I'm fun."

"Daddy reads."

"Well…well, I can read. Do you want me to read to you?"

"No. Daddy."

"Wang Mu, he's sleeping and we need to let him rest." He's unconscious and we need to wait until he comes round. "So, what's Daddy reading to you?"

Wang Mu was about to reply, when suddenly Quirrell let out a feeble groan and shifted slightly. In a mixture of nervousness and relief, Voldemort picked Wang Mu up and hovered uncertainly by the couch. "Squirrel?"

Quirrell's eyes snapped open and he immediately sat up, desperately looking around. "D-D-Dementor."

"Boggart." Voldemort replied hurriedly. "Remember? I got rid of it. It was only a –"

"Voices in my – in my head – not again, promised, not again –" Quirrell muttered nonsensically and Voldemort bit his lip. Oh no. Quirrell hadn't been like this for years. It all came rushing back to Voldemort, all of Quirrell's fits and panic attacks and nightmares and he held onto Wang Mu a little tighter, who was becoming increasingly scared.

"Quirrell! Quirrell, snap out of it!"

"Daddy…" Wang Mu said uncertainly as Quirrell lay back down and covered his face, his breathing strained. "Papa, Daddy scared…"

"Quirrell, I would hold you and help you get out of this, but I have our kid in my arms, and she's getting really freaked out, so – please – come on! It wasn't real! You're all okay, it's gone, and it won't come back. I promise."

Quirrell let out a low moan, rubbing at his wrists, where his times spent in Azkaban chains had left their permanent mark. The two of them could often ignore them, but this made all of Voldemort's guilt he'd tried to forget about come springing back and he grimaced. "Boggart, Quirrell. Just a boggart…"

His husband opened his eyes again, his breathing still a little strained. When he saw Wang Mu his expression softened a little and he sat up again, hesitantly holding out his arms. Voldemort gave a small nod and handed her to him, and Quirrell held her close. "D-don't – don't look so worried, sweetie, I'm alright…"

"Cold!" Wang Mu exclaimed as Quirrell lightly stroked her cheek, but she was smiling again. "Daddy better now."

"Sorry – I'm sorry – " Quirrell mumbled, shaking his head as he looked up at Voldemort. "But…I could hear them…It was –"

"Don't apologise, and don't explain." Voldemort replied softly, sitting down next to him as Quirrell budged up slightly, where he gently placed a hand on his thigh "I know. I don't blame you."

"Look at me." Quirrell muttered with a humourless smile. "Can't even get rid of a boggart without passing out. So much for being one of the smartest wizards around."

Voldemort shook his head. "You know you're the smartest wizard, man. That has nothing to do with being terrified of dementors. You have every reason to be."

"Dem-demen –" Wang Mu struggled, giggling a little. "Yes."

"I'm not telling her what they are." Quirrell muttered, more to himself than anything. "No…no way…" His eyes suddenly widened and he looked at Voldemort. "W-wait! What t-time is it?" His teeth were beginning to chatter, explaining his small stutter relapse.

"That doesn't matter. You're not going to work."

"Daddy stay home." Wang Mu nodded.

"No! I can't! V-Voldemort, listen, I have t-to go – "

"Give me your phone. I'll call 'em and say you're sick." Voldemort replied simply, holding out his hand. "You're not going. Look at you! You're still completely freaked out!"

Quirrell faltered, swallowing a little. "I just - n-need to get over it."

"No. You and I both know it's impossible to 'just get over it'. You sit here, I'm gonna get you some chocolate." Voldemort was already standing, his hand still held out. "Phone."

Quirrell looked like he was going to argue some more, before he looked away in defeat, digging his phone from his pocket, his free arm still wrapped around Wang Mu. "I'll do it."

"Make sure you do." Voldemort told him, already walking to the kitchen. He rummaged around for some chocolate, still a little shaken himself, before returning to the living room where Quirrell was gently stroking Wang Mu's hair, his eyes still quite hollow and scared. "That was a quick phone call."

"Leave me alone, Voldemort."

"Squirrel, I've offered to call them for you. And I will, if you don't. Because you're not going, d'you understand? How can you teach kids if you can't even stop shivering?"

"Just back off, alright?" Quirrell snapped. "I'll call them!" He stood up, Wang Mu in his arms, who kicked her legs out and whined as she was passed over.

"Daddy! Daddyyy!" She complained as Voldemort had no other option but to take her. "Daddy read!"

"He can read to you later." Voldemort told her, resisting the overwhelming urge to glower at Quirrell. "Once he's stopped being a drama queen and phones his work."

"Drama queen? Really?" Quirrell gritted his teeth. "You're gonna call me that when I just freaked over a dementor? Thanks, honey. I'm so glad I have your support."

"Oh c'mon, that's not what I – Quirrell, that came out wrong, of course I – but it wasn't even a real –" No, no, don't go there. He'd already fucked up. "Squirrel, I'm sorry…"

Quirrell was glowering down at his phone, tapping in the school's phone number. "Drama queen," He repeated in a mutter under his breath. "Let's shove you in a room full of dementors and see how dramatic you are."

"Quirrell, don't be like that. I'm sorry."

"Papa silly…" Wang Mu murmured, and Voldemort wholeheartedly agreed with her.

Quirrell gave Voldemort another little glare, before holding the phone to his ear, stroking Wang Mu's hair as he passed them. Voldemort heard him talk to his boss, saying something about being sick, and it seemed to go alright because he was soon back, and still in a bad mood. Without a word he took Wang Mu from Voldemort, kissing her forehead. "You want me to read?"

She nodded eagerly, snuggling up to him and Voldemort was left standing there aimlessly. "Are you seriously gonna sulk about this all day?"

Quirrell ignored him, pointedly lifting up a book from the living room table before sitting on the couch.

"Oh, alright, this is mature." Voldemort muttered. "You're such a child sometimes. Do you want me to feed you this?" He threw the chocolate at Quirrell, who grouchily snatched it up and bit off a piece. "Honestly, what else do you want me to say? I'm sorry, that was uncalled for, but I'm tired and worried about you and I got like four hours sleep last night and I'm not in the mood for the most beautiful husband in the world to be mad at me."

"Flattery now, huh?" Quirrell eventually said, opening up the book as Wang Mu murmured some nonsense.

"Flattery always." Voldemort said, sitting down on the floor and looking up at him with pleading eyes. "Squirrel, I didn't mean it!"

Quirrell made the mistake of glancing away from the book to look at him and he grimaced. "Don't look at me like that. Stop it."

Voldemort pouted slightly, resting his hands on Quirrell's knees. "You are wonderful and brave and I'm very, very sorry."

"You're overdoing this." Quirrell muttered, before his sighed heavily, Voldemort's little pout making him give up the act. "Ugh, okay, fine. You're forgiven. Get up."

Voldemort grinned, leaping to his feet and leaning in to nuzzle Quirrell's nose. "Thank you. I promise I'll make it up to you."

Quirrell rolled his eyes as Voldemort took a seat next to him on the couch and tickled Wang Mu a little, who squealed and giggled as a result. "Yeah, well." Quirrell said, taking another bite of chocolate and appreciating how warm and relaxed he felt because of it. "You did help me out back there…"

"And I'd do it again. I promise. You'll never have to see any kind of dementor, ever." Voldemort kissed Quirrell's cheek, before reaching over for some of his chocolate. "But boggart aside, I'm loving having you home right now. I could get used to this."

Quirrell smiled a little as Wang Mu clapped her little hands in agreement. "I like it too. I should be teaching about the Elizabethan period just now."

"Overrated." Voldemort replied, before nudging Quirrell's leg with his foot. "What're you reading, then?"

Quirrell grinned and raised the book, to show Voldemort the front cover, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. "Gilderoy Lockhart's masterpiece – Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone." He replied, "And let me tell you, you are terrifying."

"What the fu –" Voldemort caught himself just in time, before snatching it from Quirrell's hands. "What is this? Are you serious? Is this a joke?" He looked down at the book in his hands in disbelief, before glancing back up at Quirrell. "There are books about Potter? What the hell next, films?"

"Harry Pot…" Wang Mu insisted, trying to grab the book back. "Harry!"

"We are not reading Harry." Voldemort all but snapped. "Why would you let our kid hear stories about that…that boy? And by such a terrible writer?"

"Oh dude, it's just a bit of fun." Quirrell dismissed, "You should hear how Lockhart's writing about me! Besides, Wang Mu doesn't even understand most of it, she just likes me reading it."

"Oh yeah, and what next? Our daughter being a member of the Harry Potter fan-club? Need I remind you where I stand with that Potter boy?" Voldemort glowered down at the book, before he reluctantly muttered. "Am I in it a lot?"

"Sure you are. Look." Quirrell took it from him and began to read out a passage, until Voldemort kicked him to make him stop.

"Nonono, don't. Not in front of the kid."

"But that's nothing like what actually happened." Quirrell said in confusion, "And she doesn't understand, not really. What's the big –"

"She'll have nightmares. That's like…like a book for older kids, not a two year old." Voldemort said quickly, taking it out of Quirrell's hands again, ignoring Wang Mu's whine of complaint. "No, don't read that. Please. And it's totally unrealistic, it doesn't do me justice."

"Yeah, you should read the end…" Quirrell said, which made Voldemort frown.

"Alright. What happens at the end?"

"Ah, I can't tell you, you don't want to know…"

"Oh shut up, you know I want to know! What happens?" He looked at the book again. "Do I finish Potter off in this one?"

Quirrell shook his head. "Sorry. But you do finish one person off."

"Who?"

Quirrell paused for effect, before pointing at himself with a small, dramatic sigh. "I'm left in the dungeon. Burned to death while you disappear with –" Voldemort chucked the book at him and he ducked, laughing. "Sorry, sorry, you wanted to know!"

"I leave you in that book?" Voldemort asked, scandalised. "No! That makes no sense! Why would I do that?"

"Oh, honey, relax. It's a book." Quirrell dismissed. "I'm apparently only a side character and not worthy of anything else. Oh, don't look like that, I'm joking."

"I wouldn't do that though, I wouldn't do that at all! I wouldn't leave!"

"Papa loves Daddy." Wang Mu said proudly, then giggled. "Silly Gild'roy. Papa not leave."

"Damn right! Do not read that book, Quirrell, or any of his other ones." Voldemort said, fuming. "That – that idiot – writing about me like I'm some –"

"Some…Dark Lord?" Quirrell questioned. "Y'know, Lord Voldemort? Who you were a few years ago?"

"Don't say that, not in front of Wang Mu!" Voldemort practically snapped back, before taking a deep breath. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm just annoyed."

"I don't know why, though. Of course you wouldn't do that. It's just a bit of fun, like I said."

Wang Mu was now trying to wriggle out of Quirrell's arms. "Read!"

"Sorry, sweetie, apparently your Papa doesn't like me reading you that book. Which is a shame, huh?" Quirrell gave Voldemort a little look before kissing Wang Mu's forehead. "But I can read you something else."

"Harry!" Wang Mu yelled in annoyance, hitting Quirrell's arm.

"Now see what you've done?" Voldemort glared. "You've turned her into some sort of fan."

"Oh, shut up!" Quirrell muttered, before shushing Wang Mu. "Hey, hey, enough. No Harry. Maybe another time –"

"No!" Voldemort snapped, making Wang Mu jump and snuggle against Quirrell doubtfully. "Sorry, kid, but no. Forget about that stupid book, got it?"

Wang Mu blinked at him before her face screwed up a little. Before Voldemort or Quirrell could stop her she began to cry loudly her eyes closed as she shrieked.

"Are you serious?" Quirrell groaned, glowering at Voldemort as he held her and gently rubbed her back. "Hey, hey, ssh. It's alright…"

"What, this is my fault? You're the one who started it by buying that damn thing!"

"It's a book, I don't get what the deal is!" Quirrell shot back. "None of it even makes sense! You don't even die in this one!"

"No, but I leave you to die!" Voldemort burst out, making Wang Mu's cries intensify.

"Oh my God, are you serious? Is that why you're so wound up?" Quirrell groaned loudly, continued to gently cradle Wang Mu. "Right, c'mon sweetie, you need a nap." He told his daughter, already standing from the couch.

"No – Daddy – read!"

"Ssh, ssh, ok. Ok, I'll read to you. We'll go up to your bedroom and I'll read to you." Quirrell told her softly, stroking her hair as her sobs slowly died down.

"And so much for our daughter not learning about dementors!" Voldemort snapped, much to Quirrell's annoyance. "You're reading all about them before she goes to sleep! Oh, that's great parenting!"

Quirrell stopped in his tracks, and when he spoke his voice was dangerously quiet, a sure sign that he was absolutely furious. "Say that again."

"Well." Voldemort hastily tried to backtrack, "You just – don't want her to learn about –"

"I proofread the damn thing! I checked! They're not mentioned, not even once! And for the record, don't you dare say that kind of thing to me ever, ever again."

Yep, he was mad. Really mad. And an angry Quirrell was not someone to be messed with. Voldemort couldn't blame him for being pissed at him though – he didn't even know why this was bothering him so much.

"You're a brilliant parent." He said, looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't – "

Quirrell was already walking away, his jaw clenched as he ignored him. Wang Mu had quietened down now, thankfully, but Voldemort still couldn't relax. He'd seriously fucked up there, and that wasn't even the first time this morning. "Squirrel, wait," He said hurriedly, standing up from the couch. "I'll help you."

"Yeah, I'm such a bad parent that I can't even put my kid to bed or read to her for a bit." Quirrell retorted icily, not slowing his pace down. "Go away."

Voldemort reluctantly sat back down, running his hands through his hair. He should've known better than to say that kind of thing; Quirrell was always extremely worried about not being good enough for anyone. It was one of the reasons they'd debated over getting a kid in the first place, because Quirrell automatically assumed he'd be a bad father. And Voldemort had thrown his worries in his face. And it wasn't true, Quirrell was fucking fantastic! Damn it...

Scowling, he stood up again and snatched up the Harry Potter book from the floor. What was this shit, anyway? Why did Potter get stories about him? He was probably loving this, the self-absorbed…Before Voldemort could stop himself, he was flicking to the end. Sorcerer's Stone? Wasn't it the Philosopher's Stone? Fucking Gilderoy Lockhart…Oh God.

Voldemort grimaced as he read the passage Quirrell had told him about. Holy shit, Lockhart really put his husband through hell in this one. He was getting burned and tortured and ok, stop. He slammed the book shut. This was pointless. Why was he getting worked up about this? That hadn't happened.

But Quirrell had been sent away. He had passed out this morning because of his fear of dementors. And now he was mad at Voldemort – with very good reason – and wasn't talking to him. Voldemort immediately placed the book on the living room table, before hurrying up the stairs and into Wang Mu's bedroom, only to find it empty. It was then that he heard Quirrell's voice coming from their room and he instantly turned to go there.

Quirrell was sitting up on his bed with Wang Mu snuggled against him and he was softly reading from some sort of picture book. He looked up when Voldemort entered, only to ignore him and carry on. Voldemort hesitantly made his way over and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Papa." Wang Mu beamed, clearly over her little tantrum as she reached her hand out.

Voldemort smiled back, but Quirrell still ignored him. Eventually, Voldemort mumbled. "So, I suck."

"Yeah, kinda." Quirrell replied stonily.

"It was a really, really stupid thing to say –"

"Yes it was."

"– and I regret is so much –"

"As you should."

"– And you have every right to be mad at me –"

"Yes, I do."

"God damn it Quirrell, can you let me finish?"

There was a long pause until Quirrell grudgingly looked up. "Go on, then."

"Alright." Voldemort got onto the bed properly, making Wang Mu try to grab him again.

"Papa, Daddy mad." She informed him, then pointed at him. "You."

"Yes, thank you sweetie, I'm aware of that." Voldemort responded. "It's my fault. I've – I haven't been nice."

"Daddy, Papa sorry." Wang Mu told Quirrell, patting his leg when Quirrell didn't answer. "Daddyyy! Papa sorry."

"Ssh." Quirrell told her, gently moving her hand from his leg. "Yeah, I know, I heard."

"Kiss." She ordered. "Kiss and friends again. Please."

"I'm up for that if you are," Voldemort smiled, only to have to look away as Quirrell glared in response.

"This isn't a joke, Voldemort. You insinuated I was a bad parent for reading a story. A story which is mostly complete fiction, and that she doesn't understand!"

"Nonono, I didn't – you're not a bad parent, not at all! No!"

"Then why –"

"Because I was…I was angry and I wanted to rant! Angry that…that you were reading a book to our kid about Harry Potter of all people, and a book where I leave you! And I did leave you once, and that's what makes it worse! But no, no, you are not a bad parent, you are fantastic. And I'm an idiot."

Wang Mu snuggled up to Quirrell some more and murmured. "Love Daddy. Love Papa. Both silly."

"Daddy's not silly, kiddo, I am. I don't blame him for being mad." Voldemort said, looking down sheepishly until Quirrell leaned forward a little and brushed his hand over Voldemort's forearm.

"Dude, I never read her the end. I don't read the whole thing, I skip loads. She just likes reading about the train and the school." He said quietly. "I'd never read her anything like that, she's only a baby."

"I'm two!"

"You're still my baby." Quirrell told her fondly, placing the book down to pick her up and nuzzle her nose. "You'll even be my baby when you're all grown up."

Wang Mu squealed and giggled a little as she was lifted up, her little legs kicking. "Daddy likes Papa now?"

Quirrell snorted slightly as he set her back down and glanced back at Voldemort. "Daddy loves Papa, even if he's a complete idiot most of the time."

Voldemort looked round a little at that. "Do you forgive me?"

"If you're really sorry and you didn't mean it, then yes. But I'm still not exactly happy."

"No, of course, I don't blame you." Voldemort replied, desperately trying to think of a way to make it up to him. "Hey, Squirrel," He said eventually, "Isn't it our wedding anniversary next week?"

Quirrell's eyes widened a little at that. "Oh my God, it is! Isn't that amazing?" He glanced down at his wedding ring, already smiling. "You better give me flowers and chocolate."

"'Course I will." Voldemort responded, unable to stop a smile himself. "Lots of kisses too." He dared to move a little closer, placing a hand on Quirrell's thigh. "Are you alright? With the whole boggart thing this morning? Are you feeling okay now?"

"Still kinda shaken up, but yeah. I'm fine." Quirrell told him with a small shrug.

"You're not just saying that because of the drama queen thing from earlier, are you?" Voldemort had to ask, already wincing. "Speaking of which, I'm being awful today. How can I make it up to you?"

"Ah, I'll think of something." Quirrell replied simply. "For starters, my back is really sore from collapsing on the ground, so maybe a massage later."

"Yeah, okay, sure. I can do that."

"And you could also bring me up some more chocolate. Some tea wold be nice too."

Voldemort could just tell this was only the beginning. Jeez, would he have to do tons of errands all day? "Right, no problem. I can go do that right now."

"Myeah, but first –"

"Ok, Squirrel, whatever it is, I'll do it." Voldemort interrupted. "Because I love you, and if this is a way of punishment, you're not doing it right. Because I'm happy to do anything for you."

"Oh?" Quirrell raised his eyebrows. "You're the sweetest, Voldemort. Because as a matter of fact, we're out of teabags. So I was wondering if you'd go round to Helen next door and ask to borrow some."

Voldemort's face fell. Shit! Quirrell knew how irritating he found their neighbour. She was always so overly happy and – fuck it, she'd want to invite him in so they could chat for about an hour. "Alright." He said eventually, noticing Quirrell's smirk. "I…I'll do that. Anything for you. Because I was an idiot earlier. Yeah."

"Yes you were." Quirrell replied smugly, "Much appreciated. You'd better start doing that now then. You could be there for a while…"

Voldemort clenched his jaw, but then tried to smile. "Absolutely. Kiss before I go?"

"Maybe later." Quirrell replied, pointedly opening up the book again.

"Papa going? Where?" Wang Mu complained as Voldemort got up from the bed. "Daddy loves you again."

Now that was heart-breaking. Even Quirrell's demeanour cracked at that and he winced. "Sure he does, kiddo, I'm just going out for a few minutes. Won't be long." Voldemort said, already looking in his closet for some shoes and a jacket.

Quirrell waited a few minutes, before sighing heavily. Voldemort perked, turning around again. Was Quirrell changing his mind about –?

"You know, while you're there, you could probably ask if Helen's available for babysitting. 'Cause I want to go out on Friday night."

"Yeah?" Voldemort shrugged on his jacket, trying not to sound too annoyed. "And where exactly is it you want to go?"

"I don't know, some restaurant." Quirrell replied with a shrug. "I'll pick later."

"You really wanna spend a ton of your salary at some fancy place?" Voldemort questioned. He wasn't opposed to going out, not at all. The only thing he was opposed to was having to pick Wang Mu up from Helen's house. Because Quirrell was so obviously going to make him do that.

"Yes." Quirrell responded. "So off you go, see you soon. Love you."

"You little…" Voldemort began, huffing as he stormed from the room. Oh, great, this was gonna be painful.

XxX

Around an hour or so later Voldemort was back, carrying up some tea to their bedroom. Wang Mu had fallen asleep on their bed and Quirrell was still next to her, reading one of his own books. He glanced up with a knowing smile when he saw Voldemort and took the tea from him.

"Aren't you an angel? How's Helen?"

"You're such a little shit." Voldemort replied, shrugging his coat off, "She wouldn't shut up! She kept asking how I was and how Wang Mu was doing and if we'd decided what pre-school she's gonna go to and I swear to God…"

"You forgot to bring me chocolate."

Voldemort furiously turned away and was about to go back downstairs to get it, when Quirrell laughed a little.

"Ok, ok, truce. Come here."

Voldemort stopped, still huffing angrily, before sitting back on the bed. Quirrell immediately shuffled over to soothingly stroke his back. "I think you've been punished enough." Quirrell chuckled a little, kissing his cheek. "So have you learned you lesson?"

"Uh-huh…" Voldemort replied, turning his head a little so he could nuzzle against Quirrell's shoulder. "I'm never gonna insult you again. Even though I really regretted it the moment I said it…"

"Yeah, well you seriously upset me." Quirrell told him, poking his back a little as he did so. "And you better not do it again, or I'll be even nastier."

"I promise. I promise, I'll never – I'm really sorry." He said pathetically, before Quirrell cupped his chin and lifted his head up to give him a soft kiss.

"It's alright. I forgive you. You did get rid of the boggart –dementor thing for me." He wrapped his arms properly around Voldemort as his partner turned around and held him back. "I was really, really scared, man…I could hear them…I could hear –"

"Ssh." Voldemort stroked his hair. "I know. It must've been horrible. I should've dealt with it this morning, not you…"

"I didn't – I don't know why I didn't expect a dementor." Quirrell chuckled weakly. "I figured something…just something else. What's yours?"

Voldemort shook his head a little, rubbing Quirrell's back. "Death, really. The two of us, dead. Not able to be together anymore. Yeah…"

Quirrell pulled back to kiss him at that, gently tugging him down so they were both lying on their backs next to Wang Mu, who Quirrell gently picked up and placed in the middle of them. She was still fast asleep, her little legs kicking slightly, and Voldemort just watched her for a moment.

"Boggarts really suck, huh?" Quirrell said eventually. "I don't see the point in them at all. Little bastards."

Voldemort smiled a bit. "Yeah, same. Kinda easy to get rid of, though, so that's a plus. I mean, it depends on what your fear is, obviously." He added hurriedly. "'Cause so many people are terrified of dementors and that sucks, 'cause you just pass out. Everyone passes out. Don't worry about that."

Quirrell rolled his eyes a little, before asking, "So Helen agreed to babysit on Friday?"

"Yeah, eventually." Voldemort stretched a little, yawning. "After she finished talking about how much she misses her kids who're in college. I swear, mention children and she'll be on at you for like…two hours."

Quirrell snorted a little, still pretty proud of himself. "Serves you right."

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry."

"And I forgive you. But it's still funny. Anyway," Quirrell rubbed his eyes. "I want to go out to that restaurant we went to a few years back in town. Remember? With all the hot waiters in red bowties?"

"Ah, yeah." Voldemort replied. The two of them now had their eyes closed and were slowly drifting off. "And one of 'em started flirting with you and I got really pissed off."

"Uh-huh. And the food's great. So, we're going there?"

"Not complaining…" Voldemort slurred back tiredly. Jeez, having only had a couple hour sleep last night and talking to his neighbour really had wiped him out. "S'long as they don't try'n hit on you again…"

"I have a ring on my finger now." Quirrell pointed out with a smile. "We'll be just fine." He waited a few moments, before mumbling. "I'm gonna sleep for a bit now."

"Me too," Voldemort drawled back. "Loveya…I'm sorry…"

"S'ok," Quirrell replied.

"S'not really though, man, 'cause I was horrible…"

"Forget it. You can massage me when we wake up."

Voldemort smiled a little. God, he loved him. "Ok…"

There was a small pause, in which Voldemort assumed Quirrell had already fallen asleep, but then he heard him mumble:

"Wonderful."

I had to end it like that. I absolutely HAD to.