In truth, Quirrell had already joined Hogwarts during the second half of the second year, serving as the Muggle Studies professor. At the time, Sean had been busy with the competition and paid him little attention, knowing he was nothing more than an ordinary staff member then.
After the term ended, Professor Morley left for America in pursuit of love, and Dumbledore began recruiting a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Quirrell eagerly volunteered himself, and Dumbledore approved the transfer.
Overjoyed, Quirrell decided he needed practical experience to better teach his students. Though he had been an outstanding Ravenclaw during his school days, his knowledge of Defense Against the Dark Arts was mostly theoretical. He had little real experience facing dark creatures or dark wizards.
So, after the term ended in June, he set off on a journey to gain firsthand experience.
When he arrived in the Black Forest of Albania, his life changed completely.
The forest was home to many dark wizards and creatures—vampires, werewolves, and worse. But none of them were the most dangerous thing there.
He encountered Voldemort.
Though Voldemort was weak, clinging to the body of a small animal, his terrifying reputation was deeply etched into the memories of British wizards.
In that moment—whether out of fear or temptation—Quirrell chose to submit.
He offered his body willingly, becoming a temporary Horcrux.
By late July, he returned to Britain with a purple turban wrapped tightly around his head. Voldemort's soul was weak, so Quirrell began frequenting Knockturn Alley, seeking the blood of powerful creatures to sustain him.
But hidden within Knockturn Alley was another dark wizard.
Herpo.
After failing to reclaim his main soul, he had gone into hiding there. The moment he encountered Quirrell, he sensed a familiar darkness—the same kind of evil.
Quirrell nervously left the Leaky Cauldron with a bald, dark-skinned wizard.
"I—I don't know what you're talking about," Quirrell stammered.
"You don't need to," the man replied coldly. "The one inside you does. My master wishes to see him."
"Your master?" Quirrell asked.
"Herpo the Foul. Creator of the soul-splitting curse."
Quirrell didn't understand.
But Voldemort did.
That curse—
was the very foundation of Horcruxes.
"Herpo… is alive?" Voldemort's hoarse voice rasped.
"Yes. My master has gone further on the path to immortality than anyone."
Even in front of Voldemort, the man showed no fear—only reverence.
"His main soul is sealed within Hogwarts. A month ago, he attempted to retrieve it, but failed due to a subordinate's mistake."
"This Quirrell is a Hogwarts professor," the man continued. "You intend to use him to infiltrate the school, don't you?"
Voldemort asked coldly, "Why does Herpo want me?"
"He seeks cooperation. Help him retrieve the scepter—and he will aid you in return."
In his prime, Voldemort would have laughed at such an offer—and killed the speaker on the spot.
But now—
he was weak.
And Herpo was no ordinary wizard.
"I'll meet him," Voldemort said.
"Of course."
They entered Knockturn Alley and stopped before a potion shop. After a phrase in Greek, the door opened.
Inside, a hidden passage revealed itself.
They stepped through.
The room beyond was simple, like an ordinary inn chamber. A hooded figure sat at a table.
Before Quirrell could speak, the figure said,
"My imitation… you look pitiful."
"Let me out," Voldemort ordered.
Quirrell hesitated, then unwrapped his turban and turned his head.
"How do I know you're Herpo?" Voldemort demanded.
Herpo laughed.
"You use my magic to cling to life—and dare question me?"
His voice sharpened.
"You can't even control your host."
Quirrell trembled.
Voldemort fed on animal blood just to survive.
But Herpo—
was different.
He shared a body.
The original owner of that body—
was still there.
Alive.
"Once I regain my body, watch your tone," Voldemort hissed.
Herpo burst into sharp laughter.
"After thousands of years, someone dares speak to me like that."
Without casting a spell, his overwhelming magic forced Quirrell to the ground.
"Are you insane?" another voice snapped from within the cloak. "Do you want the Ministry to notice?"
Voldemort narrowed his eyes.
Another voice?
"Not 'another'… your ancestor."
"Salazar Slytherin."
Voldemort's expression twisted in disbelief.
"What?!"
"Yes," Slytherin said calmly. "You've accomplished much, my descendant."
Voldemort struggled to process it.
Two souls—
one body.
And that body had lasted over a thousand years.
"How?" he asked.
"There are many paths to immortality," Herpo replied. "You chose a narrow one."
Voldemort's pride burned, but he held his tongue.
"What help can you offer?" he asked instead.
Herpo produced a mask.
The same kind Coates had used.
"The Pain Mask. Use it wisely—it's not easy to make."
Quirrell hesitated.
"Take it," Voldemort ordered.
"Yes… Master…"
"And one more thing," Herpo said. "Something that will help you in Hogwarts."
He relinquished control.
For ten minutes—
Slytherin spoke with Voldemort.
A conversation that would cast a shadow over Hogwarts.
—
Back at the Leaky Cauldron—
Sean had already settled Harry into his room before returning to his own.
He was exhausted.
Boat.
Knight Bus.
Too much in one day.
—
The next morning, Hagrid took Harry to Gringotts—both for his inheritance and for the Philosopher's Stone.
After purchasing all his school supplies, Hagrid handed Harry over to Sean.
"I've got to head back to Hogwarts. Here's his ticket—take him to the train when the term starts."
Sean knew what that meant.
The Stone.
Protection.
"Seriously? I've got work," Sean protested. "I've got trays to carry."
"Just make sure he eats," Hagrid said.
"…Fine."
—
For the next month—
Sean worked.
Harry read.
They spoke at night.
Mostly questions about Hogwarts.
Sean, unfortunately, wasn't the most involved student.
Clubs?
Activities?
He barely knew anything.
"School life is great," he said vaguely. "You'll like it."
—
September 1st arrived.
Sean took Harry to King's Cross.
At Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, they met the Weasley family.
"Who's this?" Molly asked.
"Harry Potter," Sean replied.
Shock.
Recognition.
Warm greetings followed.
Harry met Ron.
Soon, they boarded.
"Stay with Ron," Sean said. "First years stick together."
Harry nodded.
Sean headed to his own compartment.
Cassius grinned.
"Another celebrity this year?"
"Bigger than me," Sean said.
Chris spoke quietly,
"Harry Potter."
Sean nodded.
Cassius grew excited.
"If he's in Slytherin, we'll dominate!"
—
The train moved forward.
Carrying laughter.
Hope.
Ignorance.
—
Because none of them knew—
What awaited them at Hogwarts—
Was no longer the story Sean remembered.
—
Something stronger.
Darker.
Unprecedented—
Was already moving in the shadows.
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