CHAPTER 16

6 September 1991 - Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom - 9:15AM

There was something off about Professor Quirrell. That was the prevailing thought that ran through Harry's head while he listened to the man lecturing about the Impediment Jinx and its various practical applications in defense for the First Year Slytherins and Ravenclaws. Granted, it wasn't obvious that there was something off about the man; save the occasional slight (almost unnoticeable) stutter, the man seemed as normal as could be. He was tall, outfitted in a simple set of tailored deep blue robes, with the outer robes affixed with a beautifully carved bronze raven as a subtle homage to his House (Ravenclaw, Class of 1985). Quirrell possessed a rather long mane of straight brown hair, which he wore in a tasteful (if slightly old-fashioned) braid down his back. He had a firm yet pleasant voice, which grew slightly soft when he occasionally stumbled over his words in a light stutter. However, Harry's intuition - which Tom had called his 'budding inductive legilimens ability' - had never failed him. And it rather persistently whispered to him that something was wrong with the Professor.

As the man ventured into the prevailing theories for the Knockback Jinx, Harry reviewed his mental list about the man, imparted to him by his mother and Uncle Severus in preparation for his school year. The rather quiet and kind man was a half-blood who'd received partial scholarship from the Magical Youth Liaison Program to pay for Hogwarts tuition. The program had later paid for his Defense Against the Dark Arts Mastery, making him one of the youngest DADA Masters in Wizarding England. Falling in love with teaching, he'd decided to pursue the open DADA position after Professor Patricia Rakepick, who'd left the position to pursue a rather late-term Curse-Breaker career with Gringotts Bank.

Quirrell was well-liked among his students, who all described the man as intelligent and helpful, a necessity when dealing with a subject as challenging as DADA could be. He was known for taking 'investigative sabbaticals' during the summer break, frequently touring magical sites (cities, towns, forests, etc.) and academically immersing himself with whatever bits of arcana he discovered. According to Severus, Quirrell's self-described 'personal favorite' occurred in the summer of 1981, when he'd received the rare opportunity to travel to the small town of Koblenz in Germany. It'd been a chance to train at the Alte Burg with the magical priests of Baldwin of Luxembourg's sect, world-renowned experts of magical canon law. Coincidentally, that was the same year Death Eater Augustus Rookwood had been captured by German Aurors, who'd extradited him to England to face punishment for his many crimes.

Suddenly, a tiny silver bell popped up from Professor Quirrell's desk and rang rather merrily, cutting Harry's thoughts short and signaling the end of class.

"Alright class, t-that will be all for now. P-Please provide a foot-long scroll on the varying effectiveness and l-limitations of the Knockback and Impediment Jinxes, ranking their c-comparative usefulness in dueling and o-other defense a-applications. During our n-next class, each o-of you will partner up and d-demonstrate the jinxes. C-class dismissed." Quirrell gave the class an encouraging smile which most returned, pleased with the successful lesson and (mostly) enjoying the man's class. As they packed their things, Quirrell took his seat (which sat directly in front of Harry's desk) and began arranging his lesson notes to prepare for the incoming Third Year class. As Harry swung his satchel over his shoulder, he and Quirrell made eye contact, and for the briefest second, Harry could have sworn he saw… something flash in the man's eye. Something…dangerous. But then Quirrell smiled his usual gentle smile and his eyes brightened. Slowly smiling back, Harry filed the oddity at the back of his mind to think on later and left class, eager to spend his first free period reviewing his potions homework with Blaise and Theo by the Black Lake. It was just as well, since he was spared the downright murderous glance kindly Professor Quirrell had leveled at his back, spelling nothing but trouble.

Exactly One Month Earlier - 10:05PM

Quirinus Quirrell languidly stretched in the bed in his Hogwarts quarters, lightly yawning as he bookmarked his newest reading - The Rats in the Walls - by muggle author H.P. Lovecraft. Quirrell had quite the collection of muggle books he'd painstakingly collected over the years, (some even autographed!) and he was on a recent horror kick.

Placing the book next to his wand on the nightstand, he heard the strangest chi-chi-chi-chi noise and the lightest pattering of feet. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he once more heard the strange noise, not unlike the sound of a…rat. Sparing a wane glance at his closed book, he briefly paused, wondering if his copy may have been jinxed or cursed in some way to make him imagine things. He froze for a few moments, and his hesitation would cost him greatly.

A terrible dark shadow swarmed his bed from either side of the room, casting grisly shadows of hellish shaped rats against dimly lit walls, all while Quirrell screamed in primordial fear. The shadows coalesced as a veritable swarm of red-eyed demonic black rats rushed towards his bed, squealing in a horrifyingly unholy manner. In the blink of an eye they had him entirely surrounded, pressing his entire body into the bed. Tiny rat paws with painfully sharp claws held his all limbs down with ungodly strength, as scores of the red-eyed vermin settled across every part of his shaking body. Some covered his wand, further ensuring his helplessness.

Suddenly, the swarm parted, revealing a small brown rat that crawled to sit on Quirrell's rapidly breathing chest. Some moments passed where the two observed each other; through terrified eyes Quirrell noted that the rat was rather small, missing patches of fur in some areas, and that its front left paw was missing a finger and all fingernails. In the blink of an eye the rat transformed and a nude hulking being that sat astride Quirrell's body, who renewed his screaming in earnest. The being was a wretched facsimile of a large and strong man, whose form looked to be phasing between human and… something else. His marred face twisted between wretched human and monstrous rat hybrid, almost as if the latter was trying to tear its way out from under his skin. His head was smooth save a few odd strands of brown hair, and lightly clouded black eyes gleamed. A small sharp nose twitched imperceptibly. Small plumes of black smoke escaped from the surface of his rotted-looking skin. Quirrell screamed once more.

In a second, a gnarled hand with blackened fingernails grabbed at Quirrell's throat, effectively silencing him even as he struggled in the too powerful grip. The demonic black rat hoard chittered madly as one, sharp claws pressing painfully into his body, forcing him to go still. The rat-man smiled, revealing a row of impossible sharpened yellow teeth.

"Pleased…to meet you." It spoke in a harsh rasping voice, sounding like a hundred hellish chittering voices layered and warped into one. "I have been searching for…a while… only for such… a boon… to fall into… my lap." He threw his head back and laughed a fiendish chi-chi-chi-chi, as the swarm of rats joined in kind. Quirrell, with tears in his eyes, could only watch in abject horror.

"No one…can hear…us, I made…certain of that… go ahead… SCREAM FOR ME!" And Quirinus opened his mouth wide and screamed from the very depths of his being, begging for someone, anyone to come to his rescue from this hellish monster. No one came. His screams lessened to whimpers as he wept, before pitifully asking, "W-W-Who a-a-are y-y-you? W-W-What a-a-a-are y-y-y-you?" his fear making his stuttering all the more pronounced.

"I AM REX NORVEGICUS! The greatest Dark Lord… who ever… lived, and will… always… live!" The being screamed in a grating rasping voice, its wretched misshapen face twisting in a horrible rictus of rage as lightly clouded eyes grew tinged with greater madness.

"Alas… thanks…to…the Potters" he spat the name with wrathful venom, "this… human form isn't…stable... that is...why... I... need... you!" as if to prove a point, his body gave a wracking tremble as it phased once more, small rat-like creatures bulging under his skin's surface. Quirrell trembled, horrified to discover that if this was the Dark Lord, and if he survived… then all was doomed. "Oh yes… my little friend… I… endure… like my father…before me…and his father… before him… and all those… before them. Solum Potentia… my… friend. That is… the only way." And then he smiled a terrible smile of too-sharp, gleaming rat teeth as the infernal rat chorus of chi-chi-chi-chi grew louder, and Quirinus knew in his heart of hearts, that all was well and truly lost.

"Good, I see… you've accepted the… inevitable. This will be much…easier to bear. Now… how did… Nemo say… it would… go?" he muttered to himself while moving a petrified Quirrell's head from side to side in his painful grasp. "Ah! Ah yessss.. Quarrelsome… Usurpers… In… Ruinous… Incarceration… Never… Undergo… Stagnation." And then Quirrell screamed as he felt something split his mind in two from within, as a heavy psychic door slammed open and someone-like-him-but-not-quite-like-him emerged, pressing the folds of his true mind hard against their psychic walls, pressing and pressing and pressing, until his true mind turned to goo, well and truly ruined. The one-like-him-but-not-quite-like-him stretched and stretched to fill out every corner of his mind, every mental nook and cranny, until there was only him left, until he was Quirinus Quirrell. Suddenly his head jerked upright and he stared into the rat-man's eyes fearlessly, speaking in a toneless voice.

"Master. Your soldier is born. Thy will is my command."

"Chi-chi-chi-chi."

Present Time…

(From the Desk of Seneschal Selwyn)

Dearest Cousin Corban,

Grandfather and I were absolutely delighted to hear of your news. It seems House Potter may be finally redeemed from its past egregious blood traitorous path, and be guided unto the light of propriety. It seems we may not only have the potential for a new ally, we may just be able to rid ourselves of that loathsome mudblood Lily Evans. For good. Oh how Lord Gaunt will suffer her well-earned demise.

Per Grandfather, you are to approach Lord Potter cautiously. You are to be a listening ear, a comrade in his silly male woes. Make him trust you, make him believe that you are on his side and his side alone. Now that he is isolated from the insolent Lord Black and alienated by his other allies, it is our chance to gain a newfound tool to be used to our greatest benefit.

It goes without saying that this requires equal parts discretion as it does creativity, and that failure is not an option. Keep us informed of all progress.

Oderint dum metuunt.

AN 1: And heeeeerreeee's Peter! Rex Norvegicus (Rat King) is quite terrifying if I do say so myself. He is a Master of Wild Animagery, and I will leave it at that.

AN 2: Poor Quirrell, but at least he still has a full head of hair this time!

AN 3: Corban and the Selwyns scheme... more to come!

Next, the history of the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord(s)!