Chapter Text
Dads,
You'll never believe what house I got sorted into!
Actually it's not that unbelievable, but it's really really great. I'm in Ravenclaw, just like you Dad! Except the hat did say I was like Slytherin because snakes talk to me sometimes, but then it got all weird and shouted Ravenclaw so I'm in Ravenclaw now. It's pretty neat, and all the prefects are really nice but also a little bit scary but mostly nice. One of the other kids my age got really sad when they said he was in Ravenclaw. I tried to talk to him but he pushed me and told me to go away. Why wouldn't he want to be in Ravenclaw, I wonder? The door is a painting and it asks you really interesting questions, and the house color is blue which is my second favorite color. So basically, it's really cool. Oh also the Head of House is really weird but he gave me a treacle tart because I didn't get to have one since I was too nervous to eat until I got sorted and then I was too excited to eat after I got sorted. So he seems nice, even though he dresses oddly and stuff. But Papa you said not to judge people unless it's for a good reason, so I'm not judging him, I promise.
I have to stop writing now because it's time for lights out, so you won't get this letter for a few days. I hope you guys can wait that long. I certainly couldn't so it's a good thing I'm the one sending the letter. I miss you both! ♥︎
Love,
Mu
Quirrell squinted at the sunlight that shone through the window. He groped around on the floor with one hand, searching for his wand so he could close the curtains. Suddenly, a large grey owl landed on the windowsill with a loud thud. Quirrell, now definitely awake, opened the window and let the owl in. It fluffed its feathers and looked at Quirrell expectantly. He sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and tried to remember what he was expected to do with owls.
The owl did not wait for him to remember, and instead dropped an envelope at his feet and fluttered out the window. Quirrell glanced behind him to find Voldemort sleeping peacefully. His husband always got up at around the same time, 8:30 AM, much too early for Quirrell, who preferred to sleep in. Quirrell was unused to being up before him. He yawned and flicked his wand to close the window and the curtains. Maybe he'd just... go back to sleep.
He lay back into bed, his back pressed against Voldemort's, and closed his eyes. It wasn't quite the same as being attached, but it was comforting nonetheless.
Later that morning, Quirrell awoke a second time, the letter now clutched in his hand. The other side of the bed was empty, and he sat up and blinked his bleary eyes. He smoothed his striped nightgown and tried to fix his hair a bit before trudging out of bed to brush his teeth. The bags under his eyes weren't so much a symbol of sleeplessness as a constant accessory from days long past. He stumbled into the kitchen, clutching long-forgotten dreams that seemed to fade away with every step, leaving him wondering what was so interesting about that them, but with a nagging feeling that he had forgotten something. He arrived in the kitchen of their mid-sized cottage to faint humming and the clinking of dishware. There was Voldemort, downing a bowl of cereal, eye bags to match Quirrell's but looking much perkier. Quirrell slumped into the chair next to Voldemort, then quietly scooted closer until the chairs were flush.
"How do you d-d-do this every day?" he grumbled into the table.
"Well it's easy, really-" Voldemort began, but Quirrell cut him off.
"Rhet-rhetorical question."
Voldemort quietly slurped the cereal milk from his bowl and Quirrell lifted his feet onto the seat and leaned on Voldemort. Without a word, Voldemort adjusted so that they were back-to-back in the chairs. Quirrell blinked and smiled softly, and he could almost feel his husband doing the same. He lifted the letter, still absentmindedly clutched in his hands, to his face. "I-I-I have a letter from Mu," he said slowly, carefully opening the letter.
"Would you read it Quirrell?" Voldemort asked gently. Everything was gentle now. It was a stark contrast to Voldemort's previous demeanor. It was quieter, softer.
He obliged, and both of their smiles grew wider as the letter went on.
"Sounds like- like she's right at home in Hogwarts," Quirrell noted, yawning.
Voldemort's fingers tapped unconsciously on the table. "Quirrell?"
"Yes?"
"Are you sure we made the right choice sending her to Hogwarts?"
Quirrell was silent for a second, chewing on his lip as he pondered Voldemort's query. He wanted to believe Hogwarts was a safe place, and maybe for Mu it was. But if anyone found out...
"Yeah, we di-did. She's happy and learning magic. Hiding her away would b-be much worse," he reassured. He felt Voldemort relax slightly and tried to let go of some of his own tension.
"We should send her a gift," Voldemort suggested.
"We already gave her a going away p-p-present?"
"I know. This is more of a,,, You Are Away Present."
"That's not- that's not a real thing."
"It is, I just made it up, just now."
Quirrell huffed exaggeratedly. "Fine. What should we send her?"
"Are canary creams still banned?"
"Pro-probably."
"Then let's send her some of those. She can give one to the mopey kid, maybe cheer him up a bit."
"Do you really w-want to risk her get-getting detention, Voldemort?"
"She wouldn't get caught! She's very smart. Ravenclaw, remember?"
The two continued to debate what present to send Mu for a solid half hour before they settled on a packet of Puffapod seeds and a little pot. Quirrell, who had been meaning to buy some fertilizer, picked up the Puffapod seeds from one of the only wizards in the area, a young lady named Julia Jones, and they sent the package later that day.
A couple days into her first year at Hogwarts and Mu was already ecstatic. Between her dads' storied of the place, she hadn't know what to expect, but she was thrilled to find it sparked her curiosity the moment she stepped foot in the castle. Ghosts drifted through the halls, and Papa had assured her that there were lots of hidden passages, which she was eager to discover. Not to mention the classes- she was learning magic! Not just the small accidental stuff or playing with Dad's wand, but real magic. It was the dawn of her 4th day when she received her first mail. A small parcel with a note tied to it with twine. She opened the note first.
Here's a housewarming gift to remind you of us. The seeds sprout on impact from any solid surface, so they're great for windowsill gardens and revenge.
Congrats on Ravenclaw! Isn't it weird that the animal is an eagle even though it has the word raven in the name? That's just deceptive. Eagles aren't even that smart! Ravens are not only badass, but they're also genius birds. There is no fucking reason it should be an eagle. I think you should protest.
Mu smiled and folded the note up, pocketing both it and the gift.