Many long years after being destroyed by Harry James Potter, Lord Voldemort accepted a forest in Albania as his home. Or at least his temporary home because once he got his body back, he most definitely did not intend to come back here ever again. But that could be years; centuries even…He yearned not to feel the hopelessness within him. He shouldn't even be able to feel it; he wasn't even human; he should not have to feel human feelings at all. No sir, not the Darkest of Lords. He refused to feel it. He decided to put the matter of his so-called 'feelings' to the back of his mind-or whatever he had that he used to think; he was just a soul fragment right now after all- because now he needed to find a new possession. That's what he called them, the creatures that he possessed. They were mostly snakes, because he was a Slytherin. And not just any Slytherin, no, Lord Voldemort was the Heir of Slytherin. He wanted poisonous snakes, but he really didn't know one snake from another very well, so he just chose the ones that looked like they might be harmful. Speaking of which, he just spotted a particularly deadly looking one right now. Possessing it would be easy…

Quirinus Quirrell thought that this trip would be fun and exciting. But now, it seemed, he was poorly mistaken. To the contrary, his trip to Albania was lonely and terrifying. He sighed. Mistaken indeed. Quirrell was the kind of guy who liked life best when it was lived in luxury; good food always at hand when he wanted it, someone to talk to, and most of all, nothing to worry about. His trip was giving him none of that. He had to eat berries and various plants after he had finished the food he brought with him, he was so lonesome that he often talked to himself, and he was scared for his life at every turn he took. He was stupid to have ever done this. He shouldn't even have volunteered to become the new defense against the dark arts teacher at Hogwarts, and then he needn't have ever gone on this dumb adventure in the first place! Angry at himself and the world, he stopped walking for a short break and to brush leaves and twigs out of his short brown hair. But then, he heard something rustle on the ground. He couldn't move for fear was consuming him. He took his wand out of one of his robe pockets and held it up. "Who's there?" he yelled into the surrounding trees. No answer. "I-I'm w-warning you! I'm… I'm a p-professor!" Okay so that was just about the best (and lamest) thing he could come up with. But, he didn't even know if it was a person, it could have just been an animal…

Voldemort had successfully possessed his snake. Now he was slithering through the bushes with it, looking for something it could eat. He had to help keep it alive, or it would just die and he'd have to find a new possession. And that would be a waste of time and snakes. But in his search, he spotted something much better than snake food; a man was standing nearby. He was young, by the looks of it, but not school age. He had to be around 20. Then the man seemed to hear him slithering along on the ground toward him, and took out a wand. How lucky could he get? He'll finally get to possess a wizard! "Who's there?" the man shouted. After a few seconds of silence, for Voldemort had stopped moving, he spoke again, "I-I'm w-warning you! I'm… I'm a professor!" Voldemort laughed in his head. As if the fact that he's a bloody professor was going to scare anybody! Ha! But, passing over his idiocy, he will probably be a teacher at Hogwarts! Oh yes, Voldemort thought, he definitely lucked out! He slithered forward to prepare to possess his new, wonderful victim.

It had to be an animal, Quirinus Quirrell thought to himself. And a few seconds later, he was proven right. A snake came out from behind a bush. It was reddish/brownish with a black zigzag pattern on its back. He quickly identified it as a Long-Nosed Adder and took a step back; they were poisonous. Then suddenly something terrifying happened. The snake stopped a few feet in front of him and something flew out of it and towards him. That completely unidentifiable thing coming out of the snake caused the Long-Nosed Adder to fly feet into the air and land back on the forest floor, unconscious or dead? The something, whatever it was, was getting closer to him by the second, and he didn't even run because he knew he couldn't outrun it, and he didn't move his wand because he knew he couldn't fight it. The next second, it was inside his head. It went right through his skull and it, the thing, was now in his head. Without further thought, he disapparated to his home in London. He ran to his bedroom, shut the door, got into bed, and hid under the covers of his sheets and blanket. Like a child. He sighed mentally, and got back up. He was being silly, that thing could not have apparated with him. In his head. 'Oh, but couldn't I have?' said a high, clear, mocking voice. The voice seemed to be coming from him. From his head.

In one swift movement Voldemort stopped the snake a few feet in front of the professor and launched himself out of the creature and into his head. Almost at the exact moment Voldemort was in the man's skull, he dissapparated. And the next moment they were at a small filthy home in what he guessed was somewhere far away from Albania. He was glad to be rid of the place. Then the man ran yelling like a sissy and his under the covers of an unmade bed. He heard the professor sigh in his mind and get back up a few seconds later. He listened to the man's thoughts. He thought- no, he was sure that he had lost 'the thing' back in Albania. Voldemort guessed that he was 'the thing'. The man thought that he couldn't have apparated with him. Ha! "Oh, but couldn't I have?" Voldemort spoke, and he knew this man would hear him inside his head. And he knew that he had probably just scared him half to death. This amused the Dark Lord. Fear always amused him.

Okay, now seemed like a fit time to hide under the sheets like a child, but he didn't. But he still couldn't lie to himself. He couldn't deny that he was scared half to death. "W-what are you?" Quirrell asked, and the voice in his head replied. "A much politer question would have been 'who are you', for future reference. But, I suppose I shouldn't be speaking of politeness, seeing as I have none myself. Anyway, I am Lord Voldemort." Quirrell shuddered. "No! No! Absolutely not, there is no way-!" The thing (for he refused to believe that it was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in his head. In his head!) cut across him. "Ah, but there is. You see, I am not dead, but I am far from alive. I am a fragment of soul, and I have attached myself to you. I can read your mind, hear your thoughts. And I see through your eyes." Quirrell nearly fainted. "What do you want? Why are you inside of me?" He wasn't a fool. Quirrell knew that there would be something that the Dark Lord wanted, and he would need him to do it for him. And there wasn't a thing Quirrell could do about it. Nothing.

"What is it that your name is?" Voldemort asked. "Why?" the man responded. "So I can address you properly, thickhead!" Voldemort yelled. "Oh… well my name is Quirinus Quirrell. Err, Professor Quirinus Quirrell." Quirrell said. "Ah, Quirrell… What do I want… What a question. The answer is many things, but at the top of the list at the moment is a new body. And the answer to your next question is I need you to help me achieve that. And he was not expecting the man to agree so suddenly. He thought that he might need a little…persuasion, but, proving him wrong, Quirrell nodded and said "Okay."

"Okay." Quirrell said, because what was he supposed to say? No? He'd be killed, and he knew it. Voldemort could make him do anything now that he was inside him, possessing him. And he knew it. There was nothing at all to be done except join him. And he knew that too. "Umm, what do you want me to do now…? My Liege?"

"Hmm… 'My Liege'… Now I like the sound of that, it's very creative, I must say. Most of my servants just call me their Lord. I can see that you will be faithful and loyal, Quirrell. It's awfully brave of you to join me so quickly and readily… Yet it was also a very wise decision. Hmm… Bravery, Loyalty, Cleverness… The traits of only 3 of the Hogwarts houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. But, now I must wonder, Quirrell, what house were you in at Hogwarts?" Voldemort asked. He was a little disappointed at the lack of Slytherin traits, but not really surprised. "Slytherin," Quirrell answered. "Don't lie to me, Quirrell. I can be tolerant, but I do Not. Accept. Lies. If you were a Slytherin, then the Sorting Hat must have been on crack that day. " Voldemort said angrily, he was probably a Gayfindor and just didn't want to tell him.. "But I'm telling you the truth! It put me in Slytherin! It was having trouble, it said, in deciding to put into Ravenclaw and Slytherin, and I thought in my head 'Ravenclaw is for nerds' and that's when it yelled 'Slytherin'!" Now Voldemort knew he was telling the truth. He always knew, and he could tell even better with this idiot because he was inside his head. "Okay, alright then. I can see the truth in your answer. Now as for your question, 'what do you want me to do'….

Quirrell stepped into his fireplace, threw down some Floo Powder, and said very clearly "The Leaky Cauldron." The next moment there were fireplaces whirling all around them. Him, he made himself think. He's by himself. Him. Alone. But Voldemort would not let him keep his sanity. "You're not alone, Quirrell… I'm here. In your head! Hahahaha!" They- he- stopped whirling around in a blur of fireplaces and the Leaky Cauldron came into view.

Lord Voldemort smiled to himself at the way he was making Quirrell feel. A lot afraid, a little excited, more fear, insane, more fear, and more fear. And to think that Quirrell thought this man may have been a Gryffindor! Yet what was it that he was so afraid of? "Hey Quirrell…" "Yeah? – I mean, yes, My Liege? " Quirrell whispered. Voldemort supposed he didn't want the pub to think he was talking to himself. Though, the idea of him talking to Lord Voldemort ought to be much scarier. He smiled some more. "What is it that you fear, Quirrell? Oh and as funny as it would be for the whole pub to think you're talking to yourself, why don't you just think what you've got to say. I'll hear it just as well as if you'd yelled it on the top of your voice."

Quirrell thought about what Voldemort had said. Not about him being able to hear inside his head (though that was kind of creepy). No, Quirrell was thinking about the question. 'What is it that you fear?' Why was The Dark Lord asking, why does he care? Does he care? Probably not. What should he say? He wasn't even sure he knew what he was afraid of himself, and if he did, it wasn't something one would usually confide to the Darkest Lord. Then the image of the snake flying into the air and landing back on the forest floor. He still couldn't come to the conclusion of whether it had been dead of not, but was that what is going to happen to Quirrell when Voldemort leaves him? "I am sorry Quirrell, but I haven't an idea what will happen. But, if it makes you feel any better, if you do die, I'll regret it." He didn't sound as though he would really regret it, and even if he had, it still didn't comfort him. Now he was seeing sickening images in his mind of Voldemort launching himself out of him, and he flying into the air just like the Long-Nosed Adder had. He heard Voldemort's sigh, or maybe he had just imagined it.

"Hey, Quirrell…" "My Liege?" Quirrell thought. "Don't you see him? He's just come in." "Who?" "Harry Potter!" Quirrell's gaze scanned the room and eventually fell upon Potter who had just recently entered with a man who was so big, he was unmistakably a half-giant.