"Psst."

Quirrell stirred, rolling onto his back, and murmured something in his sleep.

"Psst, Daddy, wake uuup."

His eyes snapped open to find Wang Mu sitting on his chest, and he yelped in surprise at the sudden close proximity. Next to him, Voldemort groggily sat up.

"What gives?" He managed to slur, switching on the bedside lamp. "What're you doing here, Wang Mu?"

"It's five in the morning." Quirrell added, as she moved from on top of him and sat in between them. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"Noo." She shook her head, rubbing her eyes. "But I just…I just…"

Quirrell carefully took one of her little hands in his own, squeezing it. "You just what?" He asked patiently. "Is this about school? Because I know you're excited to finally start, but it's still way too early. You have another three hours of sleep."

Wang Mu bit her lip before responding, and glanced at Voldemort. "I'm scared." She stated plainly. "An'…I have to wear a stupid dress."

"Your school uniform." Voldemort corrected sleepily. "Better get used to it, kid. You wear those at Hogwarts too."

"Why are you scared?" Quirrell asked before she got too caught up in the uniform disaster. "It's going to be fun. You'll meet lots of new people and –"

"I like the people I know already." She mumbled.

"I know, Wang, but going to school doesn't mean you won't be friends with them anymore. A lot of them are going to the same school as you!"

"I'm just scared." She repeated quietly, and settled herself under their duvet. "So…Can I stay here?"

Voldemort huffed a small laugh. "Sure, why not? As long as you try to go back to sleep. There's no need to be scared though, ok? I bet you'll have tons of fun."

"Yeah, exactly." Quirrell agreed, stroking her soft cheek as she closed her eyes. "And we're right here if you need us. Is there anything else bothering you?"

There was a long silence, and Wang Mu kept her eyes closed. Quirrell assumed she'd gone to sleep, but then he heard her murmur: "Y'can call me baby again."

"Oh, yeah?" He replied with a grin. "You don't mind?"

"'Cause I'm your baby, an' you're Daddy, so…"

"Hey, of course I can still call you my baby. 'Cause you're right, it's true!" He kissed her forehead. "So don't ever worry about that."

"But even now I'm so big, I'm still the baby." She insisted sleepily. "No other baby."

"You don't like the idea of a brother or sister?" Voldemort questioned, which made Quirrell raise his eyebrows.

"We never discussed any others." Quirrell pointed out. "And, y'know, I think that's wise."

"Chill, dude." Voldemort lightly patted his shoulder. "I know. I was just – "

"No brother." Wang insisted. "No way. Never ever ever."

"Easy there." Voldemort told her, and she settled back down. "We know. You're not getting a brother, so no worries there. You're our number one girl, yeah?"

"Yeah." She agreed, and grasped Voldemort's hand in hers. "Can't you come to school too?"

"Nope." Voldemort told her, squeezing her hand. "It'd be fun, but I can't. This is your time, your big first day. I'll be waiting for you when all your classes are over, though. We can go and get ice cream and you can tell me everything. How's that?"

She blinked at him, before slowly nodding. "Ok."

Voldemort kissed her nose, glancing over at Quirrell who was already half-asleep. "You'd better try to get some more shut-eye, alright?"

Wang Mu had closed her eyes again, but she didn't let go of his hand. Within moments, she was sleeping soundly, Voldemort close behind.

XxX

"Who's in charge of wizards?" Wang Mu twirled around in her school dress, breathless and excited after her first day. She hadn't stopped babbling since she'd got home, but he suspected the ice cream Voldemort had gotten for her – and God knew what other sugary stuff - was also a cause of this hyper state. Now he'd gone out to buy groceries, so Quirrell was dealing with the aftermath. "'Cause, 'cause, school's have a main teacher –"

"Headmaster." Quirrell informed her.

"An' countries have people in charge. So are there wizard main teachers?"

"Uh…" Quirrell put down his pen, deciding that the essay he was grading could be put on hold. "Well, of course, there's a headmaster at Hogwarts."

Wang Mu stood on her tip-toes to observe the papers strewn across the kitchen table. "You're Headmaster?"

"At Hogwarts? No, baby, I work at a muggle school. You know that." Quirrell corrected her, shooting her a smile. "Like the one you go to just now, but for older kids."

"But you're not Headmaster?"

"Nope. Never have been one. Just your average old teacher."

"You're not old."

"I know," He laughed, stroking her hair back. "But thanks for the reminder. Can you tell me that every day?"

"So if you're not Headmaster…" She began slowly. "You're not in charge of all wizards?"

"Me?" Quirrell laughed again, before awkwardly scratching his jaw. "No, definitely not. No way. That's, uh…the Minister. Anyway, your Papa will be home soon with the shopping, so let me clear all my stuff away from the table…"

"The Minister!" Wang Mu looked intrigued as Quirrell began to organise his papers. "I want to be the Minister."

"That's a great goal, sweetie. And why not? Study hard, keep being yourself, and things will be just wonderful for you."

"Really, Daddy?"

"I believe you can do anything you set your mind to." Quirrell told her truthfully. "You've already had a great first day at school. Keep it up, and you're going to go far." He gently touched her cheek, and she stared up at him in fascination. "And your papa and I love you so much, whatever you decide to do later."

"I might be a dancer too." Wang informed him.

"Sounds great to me." Quirrell replied, and stood from his chair as he heard the front door open. "Papa's back."

Wang Mu was already running towards the door and barrelled into Voldemort's legs, who staggered back. "Whoa, whoa, nice to see you too!"

"Papa! Papa, I'm gonna be the Minister! Of magic!"

"First day at school, and now you're going to be the Minister? Wow, you're good." Voldemort moved forwards, placing his shopping bags on the counter. He kissed Quirrell as he passed him, before turning around to look at Wang Mu again. "Your Daddy gave you the low-down on the Wizard Ministry? That's…Unexpected."

"She asked." Quirrell murmured, realising he'd dug himself something of a hole. "I just told her the truth. That a Minister is in charge of the Wizarding World."

"Hey, no judgement here." Voldemort told him, wrapping an arm around his waist. "But anyway, let's talk about the most important thing. Give me all the details of your day was, Wang."

"So, so, so good!" She span around enthusiastically, clapping her hands. "I did Art, an' I'm good! Then Maths, which I don't like. Then some English! I missed you loads, Papa. Did'ya miss me?"

"Is that even a question?" Voldemort grinned. "'Course I did. But I'm really happy you had such a great time. Here, let me start making you guys something to eat, and you carry on telling me everything about today."

XxX

"You're not doing homework, are you?" Voldemort asked as Wang Mu passionately continued to scribble on a scrap of paper. "You don't wanna peak too soon."

"Noo, no, it's a letter." She informed him sternly, glancing up from her sprawled position on the living room carpet. "Really important."

"Oh yeah? Who's it for?"

"The Minister. I have a lotta rules. I think he'll like 'em."

"You're sending the Minister of Magic rules?" Voldemort repeated. "Can I hear them?"

"Yes." She sat herself up, tucking a strand of hair behind her hair as she cleared her throat. "First! 'Dukes in every town. Even muggle places, 'cause I really like their candy."

Quirrell glanced up from where he was still grading essays in his armchair, and smiled. "That seems like a plan."

"I also think we should stop school uniforms, 'cause they're dumb. So wear your own clothes at Hogwarts."

"I don't think they'll ever really be on board with that." Quirrell admitted.

"Then, then! This is super good, listen." She straightened up. "We take all Azkyban people away somewhere nice. Maybe with kittens or…friends, y'know. So no more Azkyban ever."

There was a very long silence, in which Quirrell's gaze flickered to Voldemort's. Eventually, he put down his pen and took off his reading glasses. "Why would you want to take everyone out of Azkaban?"

"Well, maybe not everyone." She amended. "It's a prison, so some bad people have to stay. But all the nice ones, just like you, Daddy! They don't have to –"

"Ok!" Voldemort interrupted loudly, fully aware that if looks could kill, Quirrell's glare would've murdered Voldemort there and then. "That's enough of that. Great rules, kiddo, but it's time for bed."

"Did your Papa tell you Azkaban was a prison?" Quirrell asked Wang Mu, to which she carefully nodded.

"Only 'cause I kept asking. Don't worry, I know it's all silly! They were wrong, an' now you're –"

Quirrell held up his hand to silence her. "Bed time."

"Are you cross, Daddy? Don't be cross. I wanna help, that's why I'm telling the Minister –"

"No, baby, I'm not cross. I just wish I could've been the one to tell you." Quirrell said, and Voldemort shrank back.

"Quirrell, listen, I'm sorry. You're right, it should've come from you, but then we'd have been waiting years into the future and she'd still ask questions."

"You really don't have the right to contribute anything else in this conversation." Quirrell retorted. His voice was icy, but there was suddenly so much pain in his eyes that Voldemort immediately shut up. "Ok. Ok, fine. Wang Mu, come here. Let me tell you about it."

Wang Mu slowly stood up and made her way over to him; she was soon lifted up and placed on his lap, and looked up at him expectantly.

"I mean, if we're going to talk about Azkaban, why not tell you the whole story from the beginning?" Quirrell began, and that made Voldemort start violently.

"Quirrell!"

"Well, why not? Like you said, we had to eventually."

"I am not having you do this just as a way to punish me. I'm sorry I told her –"

"Punish you? Are you for real? You think I want to tell her to punish you? If you could get over yourself for one second –"

"Daddies!" Wang Mu yelled loudly, clenching her small fists. "Stop iiit!"

There was another silence, and Quirrell breathed out slowly, taking her hand in his. "I'm sorry. You're right, I'm so sorry, we shouldn't be shouting. Are you ok?"

She blinked tearfully, before nodding. "I already know about Azkyban. Papa told me! You were there as a mistake."

"Yes, that's true." Quirrell told her, smoothing back her hair. "I was in Azkaban, and it's a prison for wizards and witches."

"But then they let you go, so it's all good." She sniffled, turning her head to look at Voldemort. "It's all good, Papa, yeah?"

Voldemort rubbed his jaw, looking at Quirrell. "I'm so sorry, man."

"Don't be. Wang, I was sent to Azkaban for a while. It was very scary, and difficult –"

"Then they let you out really fast, 'cause they knew you were nice."

"No, not quite, honey. I was there for six months."

Wang Mu frowned heavily, and held up her fingers. "A lotta days? Like…"

"Half a year. A lot of days. 181 days, to be exact."

"You're lying, Daddy." Wang Mu said plainly. "That's not true."

"Why would I lie to you?"

"'Cause that's so silly. You're lying. You're nice." Her voice rose. "So they wouldn't do that! Wizards wouldn't do that, Daddy, you're lying!"

"Wizards aren't the ones in charge of Azkaban. Dementors are. They're…They're not really people. You know how in the magic world there are all sorts of cool creatures, like unicorns? Remember, I told you about unicorns and elves and those funny little gnomes."

Wang Mu nodded stiffly. "Uh-huh. Unicorns in Azkaban?"

"No, not exactly." He said carefully, deciding how to phrase his next sentence. "Because while there are nice creatures, there are also some scary ones. Like Dementors. They kept me in Azkaban, and the Minister wouldn't let me go because he thought –"

"Shut – up – Daddy!" Wang Mu angrily gripped onto his shirt, but her eyes were full of tears. "Shut up, shut up, you're wrong, Papa, you were there, tell him he's wrong!"

"Your Papa wasn't there, baby, he couldn't have been. I'm sorry that I'm upsetting you –"

"C'mon, c'mon, Wang Mu, easy." Voldemort attempted to lift her, but she screamed and kicked. "Hey now, you're our good girl, you're so brave. Can you be brave for Daddy? He needs you to be brave right now."

Wang Mu gasped heavily through her tears as she finally let Voldemort pick her up, and sobbed into his shoulder. "You – said – Ministers are good!"

"They are," Voldemort attempted. "This one was just – a bit of an idiot." Understatement of the decade. "Now listen, I know this is really sad, but this is the story. Your Daddy's story. And he's safe now."

"Where were you, Papa?" She lifted her head from his shoulder, and stared right at him through watery eyes. "Why didn't you – stop them?"

Voldemort stared back at her, and swallowed. "I…I don't know." He said eventually. "And I'm still so sorry."

"Your Papa couldn't get me out." Quirrell added instantly. "No one can get out from Azkaban unless they've served their time or they're proved innocent. I was innocent, so…So I was let out, and your Papa came for me. He saved my life."

Wang Mu angled her head to look at Quirrell doubtfully. "Dementors hurt you. Your wrist sores."

Quirrell sank back into the armchair, looking completely drained. "Those were my handcuffs. Azkaban chains leave permanent marks, which means I have them forever."

"But Dementors put you in 'em!"

"Yes." He agreed tiredly. "Yes, they did. Which wasn't nice of them, but they're nasty things."

"I would've hit 'em." She insisted angrily. "Y'should've said no. Or told 'em you were nice!"

Quirrell rubbed his eyes, before looking at her. "I did. I told them every day. They don't care. They need their prisoners."

"I think that's enough for tonight." Voldemort cut in quickly. "Wang Mu, it's easy to say what you would do, but in reality it's a very different story."

"Then I'll get rid of every single Dementor ever, an' they'll be all alone!" She retorted loudly. "I promise, Daddy. When I'm in charge, no more Dementors."

Quirrell smiled at her. "Ok, baby. Thank you. I don't doubt it. Now give me a hug, huh?"

Voldemort gently lowered her back down, and she flung her arms around Quirrell's neck, holding him tight. "Sorry for saying you were a liar. You never lie, so that was bad of me. Really sorry."

"Hey now, you have nothing to be sorry for." Quirrell assured her, closing his eyes as he held her close to him. "I'm sorry that it was upsetting. It's hard, but now you know a little more, which I think is a good thing."

"Ok." She murmured. "You don't hurt anymore?"

"Well," He began as she leaned back a little so that he could look at her. "Y'know, I'm doing pretty great. Sometimes I have my sad days, which you know, but that's why I take my medicine. I'm good. I'm better. You and Papa help me a ton, so never forget that."

"Ok." She repeated. "Love you lots."

"Right back at you." He kissed her forehead, and she allowed Voldemort to lift her up again. "Bed time. Gotta be ready for your second day of school, huh?"

"Yep." She agreed. "Don't worry, Daddy. I promise 'bout the Dementors. They'll go forever."

"They're already gone forever. In your Daddy's case, anyway." Voldemort replied. "Listen, Wang, please don't think about this anymore. Dementors aren't our problem now, and they'll never be again."

"That doesn't mean they're not other people's problems, though." Quirrell murmured, seemingly to no one in particular.

Voldemort stopped at that, but refrained from commenting while Wang Mu was still in his arms. "Right, c'mon, kiddo. You must be exhausted."

Wang rubbed her eyes with a small nod. "Very."

"Say goodnight to Daddy."

She waved tiredly. "G'night, Daddy. See you soon."

Quirrell waved back before he watched Voldemort take their daughter upstairs, and then he rolled up his shirt sleeves to stare at his marked wrists. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to cry or scream, so he just decided on thumping his heel against the armchair to relieve some tension.

By the time Voldemort came downstairs, Quirrell was curled up in the armchair with his eyes closed, all fight gone out of him. Voldemort approached him very carefully, and placed a hand on his knee. "Quirrell?"

"Yes." He mumbled back, but didn't even stir.

"I'm so sorry."

"I had to tell her sometime. Now she knows. She knows her Daddy was in jail."

"She also knows that it wasn't your fault." He hesitated, before swallowing. "Are we gonna tell her it was mine?"

Quirrell's eyes flickered open. "I don't blame you, remember? I've told you so many times."

"I can't tell her, Quirrell. I…I can't do that. I can't tell her all of that yet."

"I'm not asking you to."

"You won't say anything, will you? Can we tell her together, you know, when she's older? Like we said we would."

"I wanted to wait too. I didn't want her to know about me like that. I can't believe you went behind my back."

"Please don't be mad at me."

"I have no more energy to be mad." Quirrell replied quietly. "I'm just upset."

Voldemort tried to take his hand. "And that's perfectly understandable, and I will do anything I can to help you. I'm so, so sorry. She – she kept asking, and then she was worried that she'd end up there too by accident, and I had to make it clear that it was just an awful…mistake."

"It was a deliberate action." Quirrell pointed out.

"Which was the biggest mistake of my life, Quirrell."

There was a long silence, before Quirrell finally turned his head to look at him. "I'm…I don't even know what I'm feeling. But it's sad. I guess I'm sad."

"We knew we had to tell her about Azkaban. But yeah, I don't blame you for feeling sad. Not at all." He took Quirrell's hand in his, squeezing it. "I think you need to sleep. You look a little spaced out."

"Feel it."

"Hey, look at me." Voldemort cupped his face, observing him. "I love you. You're the bravest man I know. The smartest, the sweetest, the most handsome. You're everything to me."

Quirrell managed a small smile. "Love you too."

"We'll figure this out, Squirrel, I promise. It'll get easier to tell her things. And from now on, your stories, your struggles, they come directly from you. I kept it brief, but I still should've kept my mouth shut."

"It's ok. I understand. And I mean that, I'm not just saying it." He told him, and slowly leaned in to give him a soft kiss. "We'll start small. Like…Maybe like how we met. You know?"

Voldemort hesitated, before nodding. "Right. Yeah. I mean, that's totally fair. But no serious stuff yet, not when she's still so young."

"Agreed." Quirrell leaned in closer. "Now, please carry me to bed."