Hogwarts Castle.
Friday, September 10
Quirinus stepped out of the infirmary, the weight of the past few days still heavy on his shoulders. The corridors of Hogwarts stretched before him, filled with echoes of laughter and the distant sounds of spells being practiced. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself in this new reality that felt so surreal. Just days ago, he had been Tristan, living in a world where magic was merely a fantasy. Now, he was Quirinus Quirrell, a student at Hogwarts, grappling with the knowledge that his fate was already written in the stars—one that ended tragically at the hands of a first-year student.
As he made his way toward Ravenclaw Tower, doubt gnawed at him. He had never read beyond the first Harry Potter book; he was only vaguely familiar with the characters and events that unfolded in this world. The thought of being turned to dust by someone who was, in magical terms, average was a bitter pill to swallow. How could he survive in a world where he knew so little? He felt like an imposter, a spectator in a story that no longer belonged to him.
The spiral staircase leading up to Ravenclaw Tower wound upward like a corkscrew, each step echoing with uncertainty. Quirinus's mind raced as he climbed higher. What strategies could he employ to change his fate? Could he forge alliances? Avoid confrontation? The possibilities seemed endless yet daunting. He needed to think clearly and act wisely; there was no room for mistakes.
At last, he reached the top of the staircase and faced the entrance to the common room—a heavy wooden door adorned with a bronze knocker shaped like an eagle. It glinted in the soft light of the corridor, and Quirinus felt a mix of apprehension and curiosity wash over him. The knocker was known for asking riddles instead of demanding passwords—a fitting challenge for those sorted into Ravenclaw.
"Answer me this," it intoned as Quirinus approached. "In shadows I dwell, yet I bring forth the light, I dance in the dreams of the day and the night. Born from the whispers of fate's gentle hand, I guide weary travelers through mystical land. What am I, a force that you cannot see, yet without my embrace, you cease to be?"
Quirinus furrowed his brow, contemplating the riddle's meaning. Shadows and light… dreams… guiding travelers… The answer began to crystallize in his mind. "Hope," he said aloud, confidence building as he explained his reasoning. "Hope often exists in our darkest moments, guiding us like a light. Without hope, we struggle to find our way; it is what allows us to keep going even during difficult times."
The knocker paused for a moment before responding with approval. "A reasonable answer indeed! Enter." With that, the door swung open smoothly.
Quirinus stepped inside and was immediately enveloped by the warm atmosphere of the Ravenclaw common room. The space was airy and bright, filled with large arched windows that offered breathtaking views of the surrounding mountains and sky. Blue and bronze tapestries adorned the walls, echoing the house colors while adding an air of elegance to the room. Above him, the vaulted ceiling was painted like a starry night sky—an enchanting sight that made him feel both small and inspired.
Tables were scattered throughout the room, covered with books and parchment as students diligently worked on their assignments. A marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw stood proudly beside the entrance to the dormitories—a beautiful woman with long black hair and dark eyes that seemed to follow Quirinus as he walked past her.
He moved quietly through the common room, not wanting to disturb anyone engrossed in their studies. Each Ravenclaw student appeared absorbed in their own world of knowledge—some scribbling notes fervently while others flipped through thick tomes filled with arcane wisdom.
As Quirinus approached the dormitory door at the back of the room, he couldn't help but glance back at Rowena's statue. There was something both comforting and intimidating about her presence; she embodied intelligence and strength—a reminder of what it meant to be part of Ravenclaw House.
Lowering his gaze toward her base, Quirinus read one of her famous quotes: "A boundless intelligence is humanity's greatest treasure." He paused for a moment as her words resonated within him—offering him a partial answer to his earlier doubts about survival in this world.
Perhaps intelligence could be his weapon against fate—a tool to navigate through challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead. He would need to cultivate it fiercely if he hoped to change his destiny.
With renewed determination coursing through him, Quirinus turned back toward the dormitory door and pushed it open gently. Inside lay a cozy space filled with soft beds draped in blue linens and illuminated by warm candlelight. It felt welcoming—a sanctuary where he could gather his thoughts away from prying eyes.
As he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, Quirinus took a moment to breathe deeply; this was now his home—a place where he could begin anew amidst all that had changed so drastically around him.
He sat on one of the beds and allowed himself to reflect on everything that had brought him here: memories from both lives intertwining like threads in a tapestry. He had been given another chance—an opportunity not just to survive but perhaps even thrive in this magical world.
Quirinus entered the small room he shared with Rufus, a simple space furnished with two beds, two nightstands, and a window that overlooked the sprawling grounds of Hogwarts. The familiar scent of aged wood and parchment greeted him as he crossed the threshold. He felt a strange mix of comfort and unease; this was his new home, yet it felt like a stage set for a play he had not fully rehearsed.
He walked over to his bed and sat down, the mattress yielding slightly beneath him. Quirinus reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand—crafted from Alder wood, 23 cm long, with a core of unicorn hair. It had served its previous owner well for the past two years, and now it was in his hands. He turned it over thoughtfully, feeling its weight and presence. This wand was not just a tool; it was a connection to the magic that coursed through this world.
Determined to make the most of his time here, Quirinus retrieved The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk from his belongings. The cover was worn but still intact, a testament to its frequent use. He flipped through the pages, excitement bubbling within him as he read about the spells he would soon attempt.
Starting with the simplest charm, he focused on Lumos. "Lumos!" he said firmly, and to his delight, a beam of light erupted from the tip of his wand. It illuminated the dim corners of the room, casting flickering shadows against the walls. Elation surged through him until he remembered that every spell had its counter-charm. "Nox!" he commanded, extinguishing the light with ease.
Feeling emboldened by his initial success, Quirinus decided to try more spells from the book. He practiced Wingardium Leviosa, attempting to levitate a nearby quill. It took him two tries before the quill floated gracefully into the air, dancing as if caught in an unseen breeze.
Next came Alohomora, the unlocking charm. With a flick of his wand and a confident incantation, he unlocked a drawer in one of the nightstands, marveling at how easily it yielded to him.
However, when he turned to Incendio, the fire-creating spell, he found himself struggling more than expected. After several attempts that resulted in nothing but frustration, he finally managed to conjure a small flame that flickered like a candle's light.
Feeling invigorated yet fatigued from all the casting, Quirinus decided to tackle some basic transfiguration from Emeric Switch's Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. He found a small toothpick among his belongings and set his sights on transforming it into a needle. Closing his eyes, he envisioned a clear silver needle in his mind—its sharp point glinting in the light—and concentrated deeply on channeling his magic.
"Transfigure!" he whispered as he waved his wand. To his surprise, when he opened his eyes, what lay before him was not quite a needle but something resembling one—a thin metal object with an imperfect point. It wasn't perfect by any means; however, it was progress.
But as soon as he completed the transformation, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion washed over him. It felt as if something vital had been drawn out from within him—a sudden emptiness that left him breathless. Quirinus sank back onto his bed and closed his eyes, succumbing to sleep as fatigue enveloped him like a heavy blanket. Hours later, Quirinus stirred as someone gently shook him awake. Blinking against the dim light filtering through their window, he recognized Rufus standing beside him with an expectant look on his face.
"Time for dinner," Rufus said cheerfully.
"Thanks," Quirinus replied groggily as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. The empty feeling still lingered within him but was pushed aside by hunger and anticipation for food.
As they made their way toward the dining hall together, Quirinus found himself contemplating not only his recent magical endeavors but also another unsettling realization: while using his wand felt somewhat responsive, there was an underlying resistance—like it was reluctant to fully accept him as its master.
When they arrived at the Great Hall, Quirinus's heart sank slightly at what awaited them inside. A group of familiar faces surrounded them—Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter—and now joined by another boy who stood tall and pale with messy light brown hair: Remus Lupin—the missing Marauder.
Sirius approached Quirinus with an exaggerated grin and threw an arm around his shoulder in an overly friendly gesture that made Quirinus tense up instinctively. "Hey there! Don't go accusing us or anything; trust me—it won't pay off in the long run," Sirius warned in a low voice that dripped with mischief.
James and Remus exchanged glances before James spoke up. "Come on now, Sirius! Leave him alone." But Sirius merely chuckled and delivered a playful punch to Quirinus's neck that sent ripples of discomfort through him.
Rufus stepped forward protectively. "If you keep bothering him like this," he threatened bravely, "I'll go get Professor Flitwick!"
Sirius laughed at Rufus's bravado but did not relent in teasing Quirinus further until another voice interrupted them—a thin young man dressed in Slytherin robes with dark hair falling messily over his forehead: Severus Snape.
"Black," Snape said coolly, addressing Sirius with disdain. "Is this really how low you've sunk? Picking on third-years?" His dark eyes glinted dangerously as he added coldly that five points would be deducted from Gryffindor for their behavior.
Sirius shot back with a smirk. "Oh please, Snivellus! You're just jealous because you're not part of our fun."
But Remus intervened again—his tone more serious now—as they moved away from Quirinus and Rufus without further incident.
Quirinus turned toward Snape as they thanked him quietly for stepping in on their behalf. Snape merely gave them both a cold look before shaking his head dismissively and walking away without another word.
As they settled down at their table amidst laughter and chatter from their peers around them.