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Bright sunlight flickered between the gray trunks of beech trees. Damp, dark moss clung to the protruding roots, shimmering faintly in the dappled light. Pop. A figure suddenly appeared in the clearing. He was pale, breathing heavily, clutching a bundle in his arms, and stumbled forward a few steps.
"Put me down," a cold voice said.
Hearing that voice, the man fell to the ground as if tripped by a root. He carefully placed the bundle in his arms on the ground. "M-Master…"
A terrifying, ugly face emerged from the bundle and spoke softly, "You have disappointed me, Quirinus. I once believed in you…"
"You can still trust me—" the man said in a trembling voice.
"Shh. I once believed in you, Quirinus, yes. You had the chance to become one of Lord Voldemort's most trusted servants. I taught you, shared knowledge and power with you, showed you the might and mysteries of magic. Then I gave you a task…"
"Master—"
"The Philosopher's Stone. Honestly, it wasn't a difficult task. Dumbledore welcomed you happily, my Professor Quirrell. You assured me then that no one would suspect that stuttering, cowardly, incompetent, neurotic wretch—" With each adjective he calmly uttered, Quirrell's kneeling body shuddered violently as if unable to bear it, "—would dare to covet the Philosopher's Stone hidden in the castle. I believed you, Quirinus. And the result? You failed."
"It was because of Anthony, Master!" Quirrell lifted his head to argue. "If Anthony hadn't stopped me, I would have surely presented the Stone to you!"
"Ah, yes. Anthony. The Necromancer. His method of gaining trust was far more skillful than yours, wasn't it, Quirinus? Dumbledore trusted him, even allowed him to practice Dark Magic within the castle."
"He's very persuasive—"
"And he persuaded you too?"
"W-what, Master?"
"Anthony is a failed Necromancer," Voldemort said coldly. "He has power but doesn't know how to use it. His foolishness earned him Dumbledore's trust. And you, Quirinus, you envy his foolishness."
"I didn't—"
"No one can lie to Lord Voldemort!" Voldemort said sharply. "You envy him for receiving magic's favor, for being welcomed by colleagues, for being liked by students. You envy him for wandering around foolishly every day, busy with trivial matters. You were convinced by his facade, whimpering and dawdling while searching for the Stone—"
"Snape suspected us, Master!" Quirrell said loudly. "Snape was always watching me, warning me, threatening me… You heard it, Master, you heard it then…"
"Severus Snape. Hmm," Voldemort said. "He will, of course, face the consequences for his actions. However, this also proves one thing… Quirinus, you and he together proved something."
Quirrell curled up, coughing violently. Voldemort seemed in no hurry to continue, merely half-closing his blood-red eyes within the bundle, waiting quietly. The woods echoed with Quirrell's heart-wrenching, dry coughs.
When Quirrell had recovered slightly, Voldemort's silence became particularly thick and heavy. Finally, unable to bear it, Quirrell whispered, "What is it, Master?"
"Hmm?"
"Snape and I…"
"Oh, you disappoint me, Quirinus, both of you," Voldemort said softly. "You have shown me how fickle and incompetent those who swore loyalty to me can be. You have shown me how easily people can betray my expectations."
"I did not betray you, Master!" Quirrell widened his eyes. "I brought you away from Hogwarts—"
"You accomplished nothing, you are worthless," Voldemort said cruelly. "What difference is there between useless, failed loyalty and betrayal?"
"I rebuilt a body for you—"
"A fragile body. Soon, I will no longer need it," Voldemort said. "And, Quirinus, your contribution in that was less than Nagini's. Speaking of Nagini, where did you take her?"
"I-I don't know, Master. She might have been frightened during the fight…"
"I smell… the scent of lies," Voldemort said softly.
Quirrell shuddered and dared not speak further.
"You wanted to lie to me," Voldemort said. "You could have chosen a better lie. Unlike you, Quirinus, Nagini does not get frightened in a fight. Nagini does not run away. Nagini does not try to deceive Lord Voldemort. Nagini does not betray me—she always returns to me. Come here."
Voldemort emitted a soft, evil hiss.
As the massive, cold serpent body slid past Quirrell, he looked up, staring at the great snake, his expression a mix of shock and terror.
…
His mind was foggy.
This shell was even narrower than the last one. But he liked the feeling of his belly sliding along the ground; it was novel. The digestive organs occupied most of this shell, which was good. He also liked coiling himself around trees. He didn't much like his head always feeling precarious.
He flicked out his tongue. He was looking for something… something very foul-smelling…
Everything smelled foul.
"Come, Nagini," a hissing voice said. "Come to me."
This voice sounded trustworthy, convincing. He slowly slithered over and found the source was a person wrapped in a bundle. So foul-smelling. That person watched him with blood-red eyes, focusing on the thin seam between his head and body. A slender, weak hand emerged from the bundle, extending a finger to stroke the seam.
"You are badly injured," came the hiss. "What happened?"
He lifted his head, gently avoiding the finger, and coiled around the bundle a few times.
"Nagini?"
Nagini? Oh, that seemed to be his name—he seemed to have some other name too, but it didn't matter much. Humans liked giving names. Humans constantly named themselves and the world. Humans used this method to orient themselves. Snakes didn't need to do that. Snakes oriented themselves—what was beneath his belly was him. In general, the world could be divided into two things: him, and everything else that was not him.
"This injury isn't severe," he replied. "Someone like you did something, and my head and body split apart. I'm not very pleased."
"A wizard? That was Anthony."
The name Anthony also sounded familiar. Very familiar. He flicked his tongue, emitting a soft, short hiss. So foul-smelling.
The red-eyed person continued, "What about Quirinus? What did he do?"
Quirinus referred to the person nearby.
"He fainted."
"Before fainting?"
"He tried to kill me," he tried to recall. "He failed. Then he started drinking unicorn blood because he was coughing. The unicorn blood was silvery, very pretty…"
"Was that person like me there then? Or were there other wizards?"
"No. Only him and me."
"Enough. Rest now, Nagini."
…
"Nagini brought me an interesting story, Quirinus," Voldemort said softly.
Quirrell's face was deathly pale. In a somewhat choked voice, he said, "Master, I—" He glanced at the great snake. "Nagini—"
"This interesting story made me think," Voldemort said. "It made me wonder, when exactly did you decide to run away? It seems you had already made up your mind to abandon your master and leave alone."
"No, Master, I never—"
"It seems you thought I was finished. It seems you believed the Dark Lord could never rise again. Did I disappoint you, Quirinus? Was I too merciful, making you forget my power?"
Quirrell opened his mouth as if to argue, but what came out was a scream. He writhed and twisted painfully on the ground, eyes wide, tears and sweat streaming out continuously, mixing with dirt to carve wretched, muddy brown streaks on his pale face. The great snake raised its head, watching Quirrell, constantly hissing.
"You might have thought that if you left, your master would be helpless," Voldemort said leisurely, raising his weak arm before his eyes and staring unblinkingly. "Yes, such a weak body. Without you, how would I survive in the forest? But, Quirinus, two years ago you found me here. You saw with your own eyes that even without a body, the Dark Lord does not die."
"Master, Nagini was killed by Anthony!" Quirrell cried out desperately, tears rolling from his eyes one after another. "That Nagini—the Nagini by your side—I don't know what it is!"
"Snakes do not lie to Parselmouths, Quirinus, never," Voldemort said wearily. "Where were we? Ah, yes. On the path to avoiding death, I have gone further than anyone… played some little tricks with death, some of which clearly worked. Do you like reading, Quirinus?"
"Nagini—"
"Quiet. Reading is a wonderful hobby. Hogwarts' library holds many secrets unimaginable to ordinary people, only those with both talent and luck can find them… Tell me, Quirinus, have you heard of Horcruxes? It seems not. Let me explain.
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