Ok this is kind of in two parts? The next one will hopefully be out soon for that Christmassy feel.

"Hey Quirrell, is this a bad time?"

Quirrell stopped in the corridor, turning to face his boss. "It's as good a time as any." He replied lightly, gesturing to his coffee cup. "I'm on my break."

"Then get ready for my announcement." Harry told him, already grinning expectantly. "You're going on the school trip."

"Huh?"

"The school trip to Italy. You're one of the five teachers selected. It'll be great, a full week of history in a beautiful country." He paused, looking him over. "I'm not seeing smiles."

"Oh." Quirrell hastily forced a grin on his face. "Sweet! Uh. I never signed up for that."

"It's not meant to be a burden, it's meant to be fun. I wish I could go. The students all voted for you, come on!"

"No, no, it's cool, it sounds good. But - a week is a long time, you know? My daughter's at school, and my husband and I are so busy, I don't think I could just jump on a plane to Italy like that." Quirrell faltered, and adjusted his reading glasses - he'd just been grading essays - before biting his lip thoughtfully. "But it does sound nice."

"Don't you think you deserve a little break, Quirrell?" Harry asked him, after a few moments of staring at his lips, his gaze automatically flickering back up to Quirrell's eyes as the other man cleared his throat.

"Yes. But so does my husband. We could all do with a break, to be honest."

"Don't make any rash decisions." Harry said. "You have time to think it over. Just let me know in a few days, alright?"

Quirrell shrugged. "Yeah. Ok. Hey, thank you for making me a candidate anyway, that's really nice."

"Thank the kids, not me." Harry called over his shoulder as he walked away, and Quirrell managed a small, genuine smile. The students here really were the best. He turned to continue his walk to the lounge, but then –

"Oh, wait!" Harry called after him. "Meeting tonight in the assembly hall. Remember, about the funding for extending the cafeteria. See you there!"

Quirrell stopped in his tracks, gritting his teeth in annoyance. Another damn meeting? Really? "I, uh, yeah, ok." Was all he managed, but Harry had already left.

Fantastic.

XxX

"Hey, sorry I'm so late," Quirrell said hastily as he shrugged off his jacket. "That meeting lasted forever, and it was so boring I almost fell asleep – but it's all good, all the issues are sorted out."

There was no reply. Quirrell kicked off his shoes carelessly, then thought better of it and neatly straightened them. "So…" He continued, making his way into the living room. "I'm back. And you're…not here. Ok."

Quirrell checked the kitchen, but came up with nothing. Voldemort always waited up for him. Sure, he'd sounded a little annoyed on the phone when Quirrell had mentioned another late meeting, but he hadn't been mad at him or anything. At least, he hoped not.

"I hate meetings too!" Quirrell said aloud to nobody, smacking his hand on the counter in frustration. "It's not my fault the school is so unorganised."

He took off his tie, and rubbed the back of his neck. He was probably overreacting. Voldemort had every right to go up to bed if he was tired. It didn't mean anything bad.

Quirrell made his way upstairs to their bedroom, and knocked on the door, then realised that was pretty stupid; after all, it was his room too, and he didn't need permission to go inside. He opened up the door, smiling expectantly. "Well, I'm home. Hello."

Voldemort glanced up from whatever it was he was reading, and raised an eyebrow. "Yep. Heard you."

"Oh, you are pissed." Was all Quirrell could think to say.

"I texted you. Like, five times. Did you not check?"

"Phone's dead. Apple products, right? They look flashy, but the battery just – totally drains – did something happen?" He was suddenly seized by panic. "Is it Wang Mu? Is she ok? Let me check on her. Is it you? Are you sick?"

"No, hey, alright." Voldemort raised a hand to shush him. "We're both fine. It's just, when I picked Wang up from school –"

"Something happened!" Quirrell gasped as he gripped at the door handle. "Oh, shit, what?"

"Dude, breathe. Come on, sit." Voldemort gestured to the spot next to him on the bed, and Quirrell rushed over, practically collapsing beside him. "Ok, first of all, I'm going to tell you what's going on, and you have to promise not to interrupt with every bad thought immediately springing up in your head."

"I can't promise that!" He protested desperately.

"Alright then, fine. Wang's teacher told me there was a little trouble today."

"Trouble?" Quirrell echoed blankly. "But she's a great kid! She's never late, and I know that 'cause I drive her. And her homework's always on time."

"She's not the trouble." Voldemort replied with a small sigh. "It's just some other kid. Little punk kept asking her why she has two fathers and about her adoption. She handled it like a pro, but I just really would've appreciated your help when we got home. Except you had another meeting."

Quirrell leapt to his feet, unsure whether he felt angry towards the kid or himself, or just overwhelmingly protective. "I'm gonna go and see her."

"She's sleeping. It's late."

"I know, I know, it's late, and I'm terrible, I get it." Quirrell retorted, already walking towards the bedroom door. "I'm still going to see her."

Voldemort sighed again. "I never said you were terrible, Quirrell, I –"

Quirrell had already left, hurrying over to Wang Mu's room. He carefully opened up the door to peek inside, and couldn't help but grin as Wang Mu hastily attempted to shove the book she was reading under the covers. She blinked at him fearfully.

"I was just…" She began carefully, already fumbling to switch off her bedside light. "Just looking. At something."

"It is way past your bedtime." He told her, but he was still smiling as he made his way inside, taking a seat at the foot of her bed. "Reading Harry Potter?"

"Mm…" She hesitated. "If I say yes will you be mad at me?"

"Nope." Quirrell said truthfully, though he did gently poke her cheek. "Even though you should be sleeping. It's late."

"Then why're you awake?"

"That's a fair point." He stretched tiredly. "I had another boring meeting, and I'm really sorry." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Your Papa said a boy was bothering you today? Are you alright?"

"Oh." Wang Mu bit her lip. "It's ok. He was just silly."

"I know he was, but did it upset you? How did it make you feel?" He asked, cupping her chin so she'd look at him. "It's not nice when people start asking you uncomfortable questions."

"Weeelll…." She dragged out slowly. "I just told 'im the truth. An' then he said 'oh, ok' and left me alone. He probably felt so dumb."

Quirrell's smile returned instantly. "So what did he ask you, honey?"

"He said it was weird I had two daddies. I said no, it's nice to have two daddies. An' he said my skin colour was wrong." She held out her hand, staring at it with a frown. "How's it wrong?"

"It's not wrong, baby, not at all." Quirrell said immediately, holding her hand and kissing it. "There are lots of different skin colours. Your friend Grace is beautiful and brown. And hey, your Papa is so pale people often think he's sick, but he's gorgeous. And so are you. Never forget that."

"Well, he said 'cause you're not all tan, my skin was wrong. Then his friend says I'm adopted and he asked me what it meant."

"Yes, Wang, you're adopted, which means…Well, it means your Papa and I got you when you were a baby. You're our girl."

She kept frowning. "I told 'im that, but he said mommies have babies."

"They generally are the ones who have the babies, yes." Quirrell rubbed his jaw. "But, well, sometimes they can't keep the baby. They don't have the money, or the place, or the support. Adoption is when people who want to be parents get the opportunity to look after children who don't have…birth parents around."

She pointed at herself. "So you picked me!"

"We sure did, sweetie." He grinned widely, wrapping her up in a hug. "And how could we not?"

"So bein' adopted is actually really nice too." She said proudly. "'Cause you really wanted me. An' your my daddies. I told 'im that, but then Miss Green came over and told 'im off and then got Papa after school…" At that, she sighed a little, biting her lip. "And Papa got all upset and he did that thing…" She breathed in sharply through her nose, furrowing her brow. "Just like that."

"Oh, yeah, that look." Quirrell nodded in acknowledgment.

"I'm not really upset, though, Daddy. I don't think the boy was tryin' to be mean. I think he just didn't know and was all silly 'bout it. Y'gotta tell people things sometimes, then it's all ok. But Papa got sad, then you weren't home, so he was sadder."

Quirrell looked away for a moment, and tugged at her blanket to distract himself. "Yeah…"

"But just kiss and make up." She advised. "Thanks for saying hi, Daddy. I'll sleep now."

"Yeah, too right you will." Quirrell laughed softly, before kissing her forehead. "Sleep well. I love you. You're wonderful."

"See you soon." She murmured tiredly as she settled down, and he stood up to switch off her bedside lamp. He looked at her affectionately as he left the room, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible.

He took a deep breath before going back to his own room, and immediately began to speak. "I'm sorry -"

"No," Voldemort said instantly, "I'm the one who should be saying sorry -"

"- I should've charged my phone more -"

"- I shouldn't have been so bitchy -"

"- next time, I swear, I'll try not to go to a meeting -"

"- no, honestly, I know I overreacted but I was so pissed -"

"Ok, stop!" Quirrell clapped his hands loudly. "One voice at a time, I've completely lost track of who's saying what."

"Right." Voldemort nodded, running his hands through his hair and tousling it. "I'm sorry for being so...stupid."

"You weren't." He insisted.

"I overreacted, 'cause I know Wang isn't actually that bothered, but - I honestly can't stand the idea of anyone giving her trouble. Hell, I got way too much trouble for being who I was as a kid, and - nobody treats my daughter badly. Nobody."

"Oh, Voldemort, it's ok." Quirrell breathed, sitting next to him. "She sorted it all out herself, by the sounds of it. Kids are always going to ask dumb questions, and I know that doesn't really make it better, but...Look, I promise I'll dodge these meetings whenever I can, and I won't go on the trip so -"

"What trip?" Voldemort interrupted, looking at him curiously.

"Oh. Oh! I, uh, was going to tell you but then figured it was terrible timing. Harry said I've been voted to go on the school trip to Italy for a week. But don't worry, I knew it was a bad idea, and I never said yes or anything."

"Then say yes! A week in Italy? Damn, don't pass that up because I was a pain in the ass tonight." Voldemort told him, squeezing his shoulders. "The kids voted for you? Look at you, being the favorite teacher."

Quirrell blinked back at him in surprise. "But - it's a week. Away from you and Wang. I can't do that."

"Hey, it's totally your choice, but don't turn it down right away. Wang and I would manage. I mean, I'd miss you like hell, and she would too, but it's a great opportunity for you and you've earned it." Voldemort cupped his face. "I'd be fine. I promise."

"You would?" Quirrell asked. "I don't know if I would though. Since we got together I've never been away from you for that long. And Wang, I'd worry about her the whole time."

"Hey, muggle technology though! We could call each other and video chat, so you wouldn't have to worry as much." Voldemort suggested, lightly kissing his nose. "I don't want you to pass this up just because I reacted badly today."

"No, no, that's not it." Quirrell said. "Honest. It's just, I'm nervous about it. It'd be amazing to go, but...You guys would honestly be alright? If I called, like, every night? You'd be able to drive Wang to school?"

"Sure, I'm getting pretty good at the whole driving thing." Voldemort laughed a little. "When's the trip, Squirrel?"

"Around two weeks from now." He admitted. "I guess I could go. Maybe. I could, right?"

"Of course you could."

Quirrell dared himself to imagine himself in Italy: to actually see the beaches and paintings and try real ice cream. It'd be incredible. They were meant to see one of the operas too, and he'd never done that before.

"Hey, Earth to Quirrell." Voldemort tapped the back of Quirrell's head, making him jump. "Is that a yes?"

"Well, I - Yes?" He managed. "If it's ok. I'd really, really love to."

Voldemort grinned at him. "Then you'd better call your boss to tell him."

XxX

"Ok, ok, I definitely have everything." Quirrell said for the tenth time as he stood by the door. "And Devin's gonna be picking me up any minute. Ok." He knelt down to be at Wang Mu's eye level, and wrapped her up in a hug. "Now, you're absolutely sure you're ok with me going?"

"Uh-huh. I wanna go too, but I can't, so have lots of fun."

"I'll try, but I'm going to miss you so much." Quirrell managed, squeezing her tight to try and hide to catch in his voice.

"Quirrell, you're going to Italy for a week, not a trip to an executioner." Voldemort rolled his eyes, though he did unzip his hoodie. "Here. Take this. Just in case you get cold over there."

Quirrell straightened up, looking as though he'd burst into tears. "You're letting me take that? It's your favourite!"

"Well, you deserve it. Just for this week, though." Voldemort passed it over, before pulling him close. "Now where's my goodbye kiss?"

Quirrell managed to grin before he leaned in to kiss him. It would've lasted longer, but at that moment there was the sound of a car horn from outside. "Oh, shoot, that'll be Devin. Ok, well, I...I guess I'm going. For a week." He faltered as he grabbed the handle on his suitcase. "No, this is crazy, I can't -"

"Quirrell. Man."

"Alright, fine, fine…" He kissed him again, before kissing the top of Wang Mu's head. "Bye, babies. I love you."

"Bye, Daddy." Wang Mu hugged his leg. "Love you lots."

Quirrell hesitated again. "I'll miss you, Wang. I'll call every single day, I promise."

The car honked again, and Voldemort lifted his suitcase for him. "We'll miss you too, hon, but there's no need to cry."

"I'm not crying."

"Awesome, then keep that up." Voldemort laughed, kissing the side of his head as he passed him.

After five more minutes of hugging and debating, Quirrell finally got in the car. Wang Mu watched it drive off with a small sigh, before glancing back up at Voldemort. "Papa, I wish I was in Italy too."

"You and me both, kid." He replied, as he took her hand and lead her back inside.

XxX

"...And we went to an actual coliseum, and we saw an opera, it was Carmen, I think, I mean they all pretty much sound the same after a few hours…" Quirrell took a deep breath over the phone before ploughing on. "It was incredible. Seriously. How are you? How's Wang? Do you miss me?"

"Give me a chance, and I'll tell you." Voldemort grinned, relaxing against his pillows on the bed. "Yeah, 'course I miss you. Wang does too. She's drawing a ton of pictures for you, so get excited for that because the whole kitchen will be decorated with 'em. Are you sleeping ok?"

"It's so difficult without you, does that make me sound lame? But it's fine, I'm doing fine with it. The hotel here is gorgeous. There's a pool on the roof. The fucking roof!"

"Wow," Voldemort drawled, still smiling. "Sounds pretty great. But I agree about the sleeping thing. It's weird not having you here. It's really...It's really weird."

"Are you pining?"

"Shut up." Voldemort responded immediately, and then laughed. "Yeah, of course I am. Screw you."

"I hope you will the moment I get back, honestly."

"Oh, without a doubt. Alright, I'd really better sleep, it's late over here. Gotta be up early and everything."

"Ok. We're going to another museum later, but then the other teachers and I are going out for dinner. The red wine, man, I could drink it forever. This is the nicest place ever."

"Sounds it." Voldemort agreed, suddenly feeling incredibly lonely. Which was dumb. "Ok, Squirrel. Have fun."

"You too. Sleep well. Or as well as you can without me hogging the blankets." Quirrell laughed. "I love you."

"Love you too." Voldemort managed, and then disconnected the call before he gave anything away.

He hadn't really anticipated just how much he'd miss him. Which was a lot. Still, Quirrell was having fun, and it all sounded great. Maybe Voldemort was just feeling a little clingy.

Five more sleeps. He could totally manage that. Voldemort stared up at the ceiling, before glancing over at Quirrell's empty side of the bed. He huffed to himself slightly, and then grudgingly took one of Quirrell's pillows.

God. He was such a loser.