The View from Here
The immediate aftermath of Voldemort's possession of Quirinus Quirrell.
Author's note: This may or may not have been inspired by certain aspects of A Very Potter Musical. Just sayin'.
I felt what had happened in a debilitating instant, the grating, patchwork wrongness of it. I recovered myself fairly quickly, however. Practice makes perfect, they say. And this was a grotesque little puzzle to fling my attention at.
I needed to understand how much of this was expected, to know how far past the bleeding edge of dark magic experimentation we had just gone. But how to put this delicately... "Master, this seems rather...inconvenient for both of us."
"It might be."
The strangeness of my scalp skin moving when I did not move it is not to be believed, let alone the feel of my breath being redirected to the back of my head. My autonomic nervous system was having quiet hysterics. The voice, though, it was the familiar one, with a subtle resonance that drew the ear. Except, if my ear drew any nearer to it, it'd be in it, at this point. "And, forgive me, but is this what you intended?"
Ire and a razor hint of chagrine flared. "New magics are often unpredictable, Quirinus."
Right, then. Off the bloody cliff of dark magic repercussions.
"I can still hear your thoughts, little squirrel. Impertinence doesn't suit you."
I closed my eyes, leashing the spasms of my parasympathetic nervous system. The basics, then. "Do you need to breathe?"
"No. We share your lungs, and I can use your breath to speak."
He could, indeed. I failed to suppress a shudder. My sympathetic nervous system was also being commandeered - or perhaps that was my own revulsion shining through, and never mind the other potential causes of goose flesh. Not worth contemplating - There Be Dragons. Or serpents.
I swallowed, casting around for inspiration. My eye fell on a swath of purple cloth. It was a memento from a woman in Albania, the first one I had dallied with after meeting Him. "Could you stand to be covered up, my lord? Turbans are unusual, but not unheard of. And I have been away, after all." Off to see the bloody world, I thought sourly.
Rippling laughter from the back of my head moved through me, originating and penetrating. Well, it's a damned sight better than your backside, which is what I see at the moment.
I choked. Some thoughts should not be pursued. The turban, then?
That would be best.