After being rudely rejected by the Ministry, I had asked Professor Dumbledore if I could take a job at Hogwarts. Despite my interview being rudely interrupted, Dumbledore offered me the job at once, and I took it.

I suppose I could say that Divination was my vocation, my calling. The Inner Eye was my Gift and I was meant to find others to share this Gift with. Sitting at the staff table I had always before looked up to, I surveyed the students below. I knew that should one of them possess the Sight, I would realise it as soon as I saw them. During the wait for Professor McGonagall to bring the first-years in, I scrutinised the entire Hall, but no-one caught my eye, Inner or otherwise.

The giant oak doors swung open, and Minerva (I would have to get used to calling her that, as I was now a colleague) strode in, followed by a neat line of students. Swiftly unrolling the parchment as she walked, she stopped upon reaching the front of the Hall and placed the Hat on its stool.

Not listening to the Hat’s song, which I knew was to be as usual, I eyed each individual in the line. None appeared to naturally have the Sight. There was no one for me to train into an incredible Seer like my grandmother. But there were a few children who did catch my eye.

Firstly, there was a girl with large glasses and even larger hair. She reminded me of my younger self. At the call of “Gascoigne, Annabelle�, she shyly approached the stool. The Hat cried out its verdict; she sighed with relief as she slipped off the stool and hurried towards the Hufflepuff table.

The second was another girl. Tall, she didn’t fit in with her classmates. Her long blonde hair was messily plaited, and her freckled face was ornamented with an unattractive scowl. Minerva read her name out as “Jackson, Meredith�. The Sorting Hat immediately placed her in Slytherin and she rose sullenly to join her new House.

Finally, a pale boy stepped out of line to “Quirrell, Quirinus�. Clear, blue eyes gazed upon the Hat. He sat down carefully on the stool, eyeing everyone in the room nervously. The Hat declared him a Ravenclaw, and his neat blonde hair fell in front of his eyes as he took off the Hat to run to his new table.

The Sorting ended as ordinarily as it had commenced. “Andrews, Gillian� had been the first Gryffindor; “Zeta, Carys� became the last. Dumbledore rose to give his welcome speech as he had done every year since I had been at school. This year, though, his speech was grave. He spoke of war, of friends, and of betrayal. Death was inevitable. We all knew that this year, as last year, many would die fighting, murdered at the hands of those who had once been ordinary students like everyone else. Even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (whose name Dumbledore always insisted on using) had been an ordinary student once.

During the feast, I watched the young Ravenclaw as he ate delicately and sparingly. He didn’t speak to anyone, merely eyed them up, as though determining their character from their looks. I knew at once that, although he did not possess the Sight, he would be a diligent student.

---

“Well then, class, today we will be peering into the depths of tea-leaves and their powers in Seeing. Carys, please could you pass around the blue chintz teacups? Everyone else, please turn to page seventy-two in your textbooks.

“Has everyone finished straining their tea? Good. Now take your cup and hold the handle towards you. Look for the symbols in your book. You may need to swirl the leaves around a little.�

“Professor Trelawney, I think I can see something.�

“Already, my dear boy? What is it you see?�

“I see…a wand…no, it’s a dagger…ummm…�

“But, my dear boy, if you see a dagger…that represents betrayal…that represents…death…�

---

In my fifth year of teaching, Quirinus was also in his fifth year, and his clear blue eyes still gazed upon his studies with delight. My instincts had been right. He did not possess the Sight, but he worked hard and his work was always of a high standard. He maintained higher results in classwork than any other student, and was sure to receive an ‘E’, if not an ‘O’, in his O.W.L.s.

An engaging conversationalist, Quirinus was my favourite student. He was witty and intelligent. I noticed that he was often overlooked by his classmates. However, he was a kind boy and frequently stayed after class to ask me how I was, or talk of tea leaves or star charts. I looked forward to Wednesday afternoons when I taught the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Usually, the class was well-behaved and good at the subject, unlike the Gryffindors and Slytherins.

However, this Wednesday was a difficult one. It was late June and everyone was drowsy from the heat and their exams. It was also one of my last chances to encourage the students to return to this classroom next year, and I especially wanted him to continue. I didn't know why at the time.

---

“Well, Quirinus, my dear boy, you’ve achieved an ‘O’, as you predicted.�

“Yes, Professor Trelawney, but it was you who predicted my result, not I.�

“Oh, silly me, of course it was. But it’s an ‘O’ nevertheless. Are you considering continuing with Divination at N.E.W.T. level? �

“Well that’s what I came to talk to you about actually, Professor. I was planning on going into Auror training, but I didn’t achieve a high enough mark in my Potions examination to continue.�

“But my dear boy, you are a good student. Professor Slughorn has praised you among the staff.�

“I was so nervous that I forgot to add powdered root of asphodel to the Draught. I ended up with some congealed sludge at the bottom of my cauldron. It was awful: I got full marks in the theory, but I ended up with an ‘A’.�

“Oh, my dear Quirinus, I am so sorry. Of course, there will always be a place in my classroom for you. You are one of my best students, after all.�

“Thank you, Professor. I was wondering if you could help me discuss another career path, seeing as becoming an Auror is now out of the question.�

“Of course, Quirinus. Would you care for some tea?�

---

Two years on, Quirinus was a young man with four Outstandings at N.E.W.T. Charms, Divination, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies, and two Exceeds Expectations in N.E.W.T. Ancient Runes and Transfiguration. He was about to leave Hogwarts behind.

And me. I realised over that year that the reasons I had wanted him to continue with Divination were not purely academic. I loved him, and not even in a motherly way. I wanted to kiss him under the trees on the side of the lake where children did not go. I wanted to cuddle up with him on cold winter nights. I wanted him to love me back. But I was his teacher, and he was but a boy, with so much life ahead of him.

---

“Professor Trelawney? How -�

“Never mind how I got into your dormitory. I had to catch you before you left. You left your book in Divination today.�

“Which book? Oh, that one. Thank you, Professor.�

“You’re welcome, Quirinus.�



“Quirinus?�

“Yes, Professor?�

“Do you think it would be unprofessional for a teacher to love their student?�

“It would depend upon the age of the student, and the motives of the teacher.�

“17, nothing sinister. Companionship. Romance.�

“I see no problem with that.�

“Well, if he was about to leave the school and she wondered if he felt anything back -�

“He does. That is, I think he does. I certainly do.�

“Oh, my Quirinus!�

“May I kiss you before I leave, Professor?�

“No more Professor now, my dear.�

“Then may I kiss you, Sybil?�

---

The next two years would’ve passed slowly had it not been for each monthly rendezvous we shared. How wonderful it was to see him laugh and smile as he told me of his experience living with Muggles. How I loved to simply stare into his clear blue eyes or to stand on some remote woodland riverbank wrapped in his embrace. How I detested leaving him to return to the castle, for I was lonely without him.

Finally, he came back for me. Professor Dumbledore gave him a position teaching Muggle Studies. I went up to his office to give him my thanks. He had been expecting me to come. He knew everything. And he didn’t disapprove.

We spent two happy years together. The same hallways that had been cold with his absence were now warm. Many times, we wandered into the Forbidden Forest, scouring for the flowers which he loved to press; he showed me his numerous albums of pressed flowers, and taught me how. We shared many happy nights in his quarters, watching the Muggle fire burn to ashes. But then, suddenly, he decided that he had to leave me again.

---

“Sybil, I’ve already told you: I’m sorry, but it’s something I’ve wanted to do since I left Hogwarts!�

“But you’ll have to leave-�

“-I’m truly sorry, Sybil, I truly am! You know I love you more than anything in the world, but this is something I have to do. For me.�

“For you?! What about me?! You’re going away, all around the world, for a whole year! I won’t even know if you’re still alive! I won’t know what you’re doing, and if anything should happen to you…�

“Look, Sybil. There’s nothing I can do. I asked the Headmaster already if you could come too, but he said that you had to stay here. He told me it would be a good experience for me.�

“Really, Quirinus, you really asked him that for me?�

“What do you think, Sybil? Do you really believe that I’d willingly leave you behind, all alone?�

“Of course not, but… you are.�

“I’m sorry, Sybil, you know that. I wanted this to be for both of us -- I’d even made some plans to visit that ancient Seer’s temple in Peru -- but Professor Dumbledore forbade it. But I promise I’ll come back. He even hinted that I could get a slightly better job if I returned, but keep it quiet: no-one else is supposed to know.�

“So you might not come back?�

“No... Sybil, I will come back. And I’ll send you owls regularly. Frequently. Every day. I promise.�

“You’ll come back for me, won’t you? Don’t forget about me.�

“I will come back; I won’t forget you, Sybil. I could never forget you."

---

My dearest Sybil,

It has only been a few days since I left, but I miss you immensely. The Seeing Temple in Llactapata is glorious, especially at sunrise, and I dearly wish you were here to experience the brilliant atmosphere with me.

It is so beautiful up in the mountains here in Peru. One day, I will bring you here, and you’ll know what it means to feel like the only person on earth, on top of the world.

I love you,

Quirinus

---

Dearest Sybil,

I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in 3 months now. It feels far too long, although I like to think it was only yesterday that we parted.

Japan is the most amazing place. The Japanese people (wizards and Muggles alike) are a testament to how humans want to survive most desperately. They have no place to put more people, but they manage it. It is remarkable how tall the Muggles build their houses without magic, and they don’t fall down in earthquakes or storms.

The wizarding community here is very friendly, although I feel very aware of how powerful they are. I would hate to offend them or their customs, because you can just see that any one of them could kill you with less than a thought. Don’t worry though -- I won’t make them have to kill me or be anywhere near it.

Missing you more than you know,

Sayonara!

Quirinus

---

Mio Amore Sybil,

Italy is a fantastic place. It is full of everything I had always imagined it would be: beautiful buildings, beautiful people, beautiful art. Not to mention the incredible food!

I especially like Venice -- the gondolas as so romantic, along with the Romeo and Juliet (you remember, that play I took you to?) connection. I’m also quite fond of Sorrento, Amalfi and Capri: pretty little coastal towns. Oh, all the places I need to take you now!

Ti amo,

Quirinus (your very own Roman God)

---

Liebe Sybil,

Only a month to go until I see you again! As much as I have loved travelling, I admit that I cannot wait to return home to reliably rainy Britain, to Hogwarts, and especially to you.

Bavaria is a very quaint place. All those little towns on the Muggle postcards -- this is the place where they are real. The Schwarzwalder (Black Forest), on the shores of the Bodensee (Lake Constance), is especially idyllic and fascinating. The people live off the wood. They treat it like a god lives there.

See you very soon,

Your Quirinus

---

Upon his return, Quirrell seemed changed. He was a grown man now, yet he seemed to be more of an infant than he had ever been. He was no longer a blue-eyed boy, or a gentle, young teacher, still full of fascination, who had written me hundreds of letters in his absence. He was a nervous, broken man, and had developed a stammer.

His feelings, however, were unchanged. Still we would sit in front of my fire every night and talk about our lessons and our students, and reminisce of shared times. I was happy, but he always seemed worried, and so I worried for him too.

I wish we had loved like there was no tomorrow, because one night, he did not see the next day.

---

“Quirinus, where are you going?�

“Umm… Sss...S-S-S-Sybil, I left a b-b-book in my classr-room. I’ve just got to g-go and get it.�

“Leave it, Quirinus. Surely it can wait until the morning?�

“N-n-no… I need it for my marking for tomorrow.�

“Severus will surely tell the Headmaster that you’ve been out in the corridors late at night because you’re getting disorganised. You know how much he hates you, Quirinus.�

“I have to go.�

“But Quirinus… why?�

“I-i-i-I have s-someone to meet.

“Am I not good enough for you?�

“No! Sybil, you must know I l-love you d-d-dearly.�

“Then stay with me. Who can you need to meet so urgently?�

“… I c-can’t say…�

“Quirinus, don’t you trust me? Why do you have to keep this secret from me?�

“It’s f-for your own safet-ty. I’m s-s-s-sorry Sybil, but I have to go. I d-don’t w-want to leave you but I h-have no ch-ch-choice.�

“Don’t go. Stay with me. Please.�

“I wish I could. I love you.�

---

They brought what was left of his body up from the Underground Chamber. I couldn’t bear to look at the red burns which covered his once pale skin. His eyes were closed, but I could tell that they were no longer the deep clear blue of his innocence.

They told me that he had been holding the soul of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He had been for a year. I wondered what else he had not told me.

I stopped caring after that. How could one so full of love be taken from the world so cruelly? How could one so full of love keep such secrets from the same person that he loved? I soon found that drink was far kinder on the mind than thought. My teaching became unbearable, for both me and the students. I broke down in tears mid-lesson, and I saw death in every crystal ball and chintz teacup. I saw death everywhere.

My blue-eyed boy changed in my memory, and changed my mind. I tried to heal during the Battle because I didn’t want people to lose their loved one like I lost mine. Because he had been mine, but he had been taken from me by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But I would always be his.

Forever.