A/N: This AVPM-canon-based fic takes place in an alternate universe, where Voldemort is nice and naive, he and Quirrell are both the same age and both orphans, the orphanage they grow up in is for wizards/witches only, and all kinds of other shiznet that will be further explored as it goes on.

Special thanks to bjaarcy for beta-reading this for me!

FEVER: Chapter One

Despite his young age, little Voldy knew a lot of things. He knew why the sun was bright, how snakes shed their skin, and he even knew more magic spells than anybody else at Mrs. Cole's orphanage – even the bigger kids. He knew how to make things levitate, control them, transfigure them, and even make them appear out of thin air.

Yes, little Voldy knew quite a lot. But one of the few things he didn't know, and what had been puzzling him for a couple of hours, was why the skinny brown-haired kid was sitting all alone in the middle of the backyard making – of all things – flowers appear out of the ground. Voldy had never really noticed that boy before, and wondered if he was a new kid, or if he always hid in the shadows. Voldy had lived at the orphanage ever since he was just a few weeks old and even so, he wasn't even remotely familiar with this new kid.

After examining the skinny brown-haired kid for another half hour, Voldy decided to give in to his curiosity and talk to him. Normally, Voldy wouldn't talk to the other kids because they were either too wimpy or too boring, or simply scared of him. But this kid hadn't made an attempt to get close to anybody, not even the adults supervising the place, and he looked quite lonely sitting all by himself in the middle of the yard. Voldy grabbed his wand and approached the kid, who was now surrounded with all kinds of different flowers; roses, dandelions, lilies, daisies – the works. It kind of sickened Voldy because he didn't like flowers that much, but he still sat down on the ground next to the kid.

"Hi," was the first thing that came out of his mouth. The skinny brown-haired kid's head shot up in surprise at the sudden company, and he almost fell backwards. "Whoa!" Voldy exclaimed as he grabbed the boy's hand to pull him up in a sitting position again. "Sorry, did I scare you?"

The boy just looked at him with wide eyes, still holding Voldy's pale hand in his own. He swallowed nervously before speaking. "Um, k- kinda," he stuttered and looked away, as if he was afraid of any further conversation.

Voldy tilted his head a bit and let go of the boy's hand. He grinned stupidly and scratched his cheek. "Gee, sorry, didn't mean to," he said and watched as the boy continued to take care of his flowers.

"I- i- it's okay," the boy said nervously while he trimmed some of the roses' thorns. Voldy saw a litle smile appear on his face as he did so, and decided to speak some more.

"So… you like flowers, huh?" he asked, flicking his wand in his hand, not sure what to do with it at this point.

The boy's smile widened just a little bit at that. "Yeah, they're my fa- favorite," he said, a little less anxious than a few moments ago. "I- I like roses the most. They're so pretty and they smell so ni- nice. I just d- don't like the thorns. They sting, and that hurts a lot," he added while holding up a single rose and examining it, possibly making sure there were no thorns left on the stalk.

There was silence between the two for a couple of seconds, but the boy didn't seem to mind. Voldy, however, wanted to talk some more. He was starting to get really bored with this kid, and wanted to know if it had really been worth it to sit down next to him. "My name's Voldemort, by the way," he said. "Well, it's not actually my name, I just like it as a nickname. Most people call me Voldy. What's your name?"

"I'm Quirinus Quirrell," the boy replied. He put the rose back on the ground and waved his wand a bit. Roots started to form on the rose's stalk as the dirt took it back, and soon it was standing on its own from the ground. "B- but I'm more comfortable with just Qu- Quirrell. 'Cause it sounds just like 'squirrel', a- and it's easier to remember that way."

Voldy chuckled a bit at that. Okay, so the kid – no, Quirrell – wasn't as boring as he had thought he would be. Suddenly, he realized that he had gone by a whole introduction without so much as thinking about asking Quirrell about his magic, which was probably the one thing he was the most curious about. "So how are you even doing that? You know, that thing with the flowers."

"Oh, this?" Quirrell said, gesturing to the sudden flowerbed that surrounded them. "Um, well, m- my mom used to do this with me all the time when we…" He hesitated and swallowed. "When we got bored. W- we'd make all kinds of different flowers appear and- and arrange them in patterns and make them spell stuff out and… stuff." His voice cracked a bit at the last word, and Voldy noticed his lip quiver a bit.

"What's wrong?" Voldy asked him. He thought about putting a hand on Quirrell's shoulder, but decided against it because they had only just met and it would be kind of inappropriate.

Quirrell sobbed a bit before speaking again. "I- I'm sorry. It's just-" He couldn't finish the sentence, and bit his lip instead, whimpering slightly. Voldy could only watch as Quirrell's nervous-looking face started to melt into a very sad one, and almost gasped when he saw the tears that were forming in his eyes.

Voldy had never seen anybody cry before (he rarely even did it himself), and had absolutely no idea how to act. Should he just let Quirrell cry out and then let him finish what he had been trying to say? Should he touch him? If so, where? Should he say something? If so, what? He was so confused, and so he only sat there in silence looking at the ground while Quirrell quietly sobbed by his side.

Well, this is the weirdest first talk I've ever had, Voldy thought to himself. He glanced over at Quirrell, who looked like he was still trying to hold back his tears, as if he didn't want Voldy to know he was this sad. Finally, Voldy thought of something to say. "Hey, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Sniffling, Quirrell wiped his eyes with his arm. "Th- Thanks…" he almost whispered. "I- I'll tell you later, okay?"

"Okay," Voldy replied and smiled. At least Quirrell looked a little less sad now. Voldy let another few seconds pass to let Quirrell calm down before he spoke again. "So have you been doing magic for a long time?"

"Ever since I can re- remember, really," Quirrell said, his voice still a little cracked. "I- I think I first realized I could do it when I a- accidentally threw a chair against a wall by just waving my hand. There was wood and p- planks everywhere. It was pretty messy."

Voldy wasn't sure if it was the story or the way Quirrell said it, but something about it was so hilarious that it made him laugh out loud. Quirrell was a little startled at first, seeing as how he had just stopped crying, but soon started chuckling as well. For some reason, that made Voldy very happy. He wasn't sure why, but decided not to think about it for now. All he could think about was baby Quirrell throwing a chair, anyway. As Voldy kept laughing – he seriously could not stop picturing it – Quirrell's chuckles gradually worked themselves up to a real laugh as well, and the two boys just sat there laughing at the chair incident while Quirrell was still trying to describe it some more ("R- really! It almost exploded!"). He seemed to have forgotten all about being sad, which in turn made Voldy feel much better for him.

Finally, they calmed down a bit, and Voldy had to dry his eyes from laughing so hard. What a conversation. First it was really awkward, then Quirrell had started crying, and now they had just finished a laughing fit. It was certainly the most interesting (and longest) conversation Voldy had ever had with anyone.

Quirrell smiled as they both stopped laughing and simply looked at Voldy, who was still drying his eyes with his sleeve. "Wh- what about you?" he then asked. "When did you first realize you could do m- magic?"

"Uh, well," Voldy began and then cleared his throat. "I actually knew all along."

"What?" Quirrell asked doubtfully. "That can't be right, you're like n- nine years old!"

Voldy was impressed – he was in fact only nine years old. Nice guessing, he thought before continuing. "Yeah, but I never knew my parents, and I kinda grew up here, and since this is an orphanage for wizards, I kinda figured I was one."

"You… you never knew your parents?" Quirrell inquired carefully, probably not wanting to upset Voldy. He didn't need to worry, though, since Voldy had never been upset about it.

"Nope," Voldy continued. "Mrs. Cole told me my mom died when I was born, and my dad… uh, he kinda left her." Voldy had never given too much thought about his parents, and didn't really care about them either. Why should he? He never knew them, and had no intention of trying to find them now, especially since his dad clearly hadn't wanted him.

"Wow, um… I- I'm really sorry about that," Quirrell said, sounding genuinely so. He placed a hand on Voldy's shoulder and gave him a sympathetic look – an almost-smile that seemed to say: there there, I'm here.

"Heh, it's okay," Voldy said and smiled. Feeling Quirrell's hand on his shoulder was strangely nice, and he wasn't sure if he wanted him to let go or not. Sure enough, though, Quirrell did, and Voldy decided he should keep talking. "It's not that big a deal, anyway. I mean, this is pretty much my home, so I don't have anything to miss like a lot of the other kids."

Quirrell winced a little at that. "Yeah, you're lucky," he muttered before going back to looking at his flowers. He was still smiling, but there was nothing happy about the smile. It was like he was trying to cover up the fact that he was sad again, like he still didn't want Voldy to know about it.

Darn it! Now Quirrell was upset again! Oh, if only Voldy had just stopped talking when he touched his shoulder. He watched Quirrell flick his wand aimlessly as the flowers arranged themselves in various forms (diamonds, circles, triangles, and the like), and tried to think of something to say or do that might cheer him up.

"Hey, you wanna go up to my room?" he sheepishly asked. It was the only thing that popped into his head. "You could make some flower decorations for me, and I could show you some of the tricks I know."

Quirrell rubbed his nose and simply kept smiling, trying to cover up a painful expression that Voldy somehow managed to see through the façade. "No, thanks," he said and shook his head. "M- maybe some other time."

"Oh, okay," Voldy replied. He was a little disappointed that Quirrell didn't want to hang out, but still sort of happy because he had said he wanted to later. Voldy stood up and carefully patted Quirrell on the back. "I'll, uh, I'll see you later, then?"

"Sure," Quirrell said and nodded.

"Okay." Voldy stood there awkwardly for a couple of seconds, and when Quirrell didn't say anything else, he turned around. "Bye."

Quirrell didn't reply and instead just waved goodbye. As Voldy walked off, he could hear the distant sobs coming from the little boy, and it pained him. Why, he wasn't sure. But he was sure that he was going to talk to Quirrell again tomorrow. After seeing how sad and nervous he was, he didn't want to think of him all alone again. Quirrell obviously needed a friend, and Voldy decided to take it upon himself to take that role.

Yes, little Voldy knew a lot of things. He knew how rain was made, why the sky was blue, and now, he knew that he wanted to be the skinny brown-haired kid's friend.