INTERLUDE - QUIRRELMORT PTA


"M-m-master" stuttered Quirrel, when he was alone in his private chambers.

"Mmpf! Mmpf!" went something under his turban. Quirrel, who didn't understand a thing, but was too afraid to contradict whatever was under there, bowed and scraped and went "Yes, M-m-master"

The sounds coming from under the turban grew more agitated. Quirrel, not daring to raise his head, murmured "As y-y-you wish, M-master"

Finally, in its great agitated struggles, the thing under the turban succeeded in dislodging the turban somewhat and managed to say something coherent. "I said get the damn turban off, you nincompoop!" "As you c-c-command" intoned Quirrel and unwrapped the turban, its dark folds expertly gathered up and deposited on a nearby table.

"Yes, now face me." "Uhh..." After some quick thinking, Quirrel conjured two mirrors and positioned them so he was able to see the back of his head. And what a head it was! Like something straight out of a fever dream, there was a face, seemingly growing out of the very flesh of the man's head. Its serpentine features were contorted in anger, and the owner of the head quailed under that malicious gaze. The man cowered, but this resulted in the changing of certain lines of vision, and nobody was able to see the other anymore, and the wraith snarled, "Up! Up, you spineless worm!" And the two met eyes again.

The wraith was seething at the incompetence of his follower, but beggars couldn't be choosers, so he composed his features, which didn't do a lot to improve the looks, and addressed Quirrel in the most composed tone he could. Which was a snarling hiss at the best of times.

"Tell me..."

Quirrel waited with bated breath.

"..about Harry Potter..."

"You mean Sparhawk?"

A few seconds of confused hissing later, certain details were made clear and the wraith asked once more.

"Tell me..."

Quirrel waited with bated breath.

"...about Sparhawk..."

"He's quite a bright student, my Lord. A wonderful aptitude for magic"

"Is that so?"

"Yes, if he keeps it up, I expect he'll beat Granger for the top of the class"

"Hmm..."

"And such a pleasant fellow..."

The Wraith exploded. "The hell do you think this is, you fool? A PTA? I'm the Dark Lord Voldemort!"

Quirrel nearly cowered before remembering that this would mess up communication. "M..m..m..my Lord! He is as nothing before your power. He shall fall when we complete our plans, along with that senile geezer Dumbledore!"

Voldemort nodded, that is to say, Quirrel nodded. This was becoming very confusing.

"Now, about his grades, which class do you think Sparhawk most excels at?"


A/N: Actual chapter tomorrow