~Sequentia~ Harry Potter One-Shots [Long]

Nemo Curis [Quirinus Quirrell]

Quirinus Quirrell x Reader

[Theme: Adult]

Throughout my life so far, I've come to learn many things about human nature. What we do stems from what we truly desire, and what we desire stems from what we wish to do. A man who desires riches will steal the most valuable ruby. He will steal that ruby to acquire his riches. What he does with his riches after is irrelevant- only that a cycle took over his life before his very eyes.

Men know this feeling, this soul-capturing and inescapable constant, as ambition. However, is ambition as damning as humanity makes it out to be? Is the lust that captivates us so abhorrent that it is irredeemable, or is it what we do with the results of ambition that determines that fact?

If the man stole the ruby from the rich, who could afford to lose a treasure in order to feed his starving village, does that absolve him of all crime? Will the darkness in his morality be lifted? Nobody can say for sure–that is the plague of subjectiveness.

And subjectivity is how I came to understand the innocent side of ambition. There came to be a man so brimming with ambition that he almost lost everything. His desire to be powerful morphed into how he viewed himself and the world. He was beneath them all, so what power would he need to be above them? In his eyes, it was a power greater than he could grasp in his shaken hands.

He did not deserve to be seen, nor heard, nor understood. It was not until one person came along who saw him for what he really was did he learn to lose his lust for ambition. In turn, she saw something equally valuable: the power she had to inspire.

.....

Hogwarts, September 1st, 1990

A breath of mostly fresh air (sprinkled with the scent of cold fumes) flushed through my lungs as the Hogwarts Express departed behind me. My hair swept behind me, emboldening me in my path. It was only a few years ago that I last rode the train to come to Hogwarts for my seventh year. Now, I returned with a different goal in mind. Farewell I bode to OWLs and NEWTs ruining the dexterity of my fingers from the rough quill rubbing against my skin. On came passing my knowledge to the next generation.

Truth be told, teaching wasn't something I considered to be my forte. Many of my friends would tell you that I was too... I was the type to act without realising what the consequences might be, often to my fault. Even if the consequence wasn't serious, the implications went over my head. Volunteering to help Sprout with squeezing the pus from Mimbulus Mimbletonia meant having everyone avoid me for the next week because of how awful my robes smelled, even after a thorough Cleaning Charm!

That didn't begin to tell the story about when I volunteered to provide answers in a History of Magic class. Biggest mistake of my life. Nobody enjoyed Binns's classes because he went on and on about mundane pieces of history that weren't on the curriculum. His lessons were the definition of 'all facts, no rigidity'. Thanks to that code of conduct, Binns made me recite every major conflict from the Goblin Rebellions of 1612 and 1752 and how it affected Goblin rights today.

Twenty-five minutes of non-stop speaking. I never volunteered in that class again. Did I learn to stop speaking up entirely? Far from it. When it came to it, I was ready to speak my mind. That aspect of me was what McGonagall sought when she was searching for a temporary Transfiguration teacher while she went on a short sabbatical for half a year.

Transfiguration, often known as one of the most difficult classes, had its reputation drilled in by the strict yet graceful McGonagall, and Hell would take over Earth should she hire someone who would sully that prestige.

So, here I was with my suitcase getting caught on the uneven stones of Hogsmeade Station, threading myself through fields of children voracious for knowledge with McGonagall's metaphorical stare following me. More than anything, I would not let her down, lest I suffer her wrath.