Perspective

Quirrell has a genre-savvy moment of lucidity as Voldemort leads him into temptation.


I could show you precisely what a perfectly executed Avada Kedavra feels like, what it smells like, what it tastes like. Just let me in.

I paused, past readings affording me a startling clarity. "This is one of those moments, isn't it? Where the main character is about to do something wretchedly dangerous and stupid, and only his status as protagonist will somehow save him."

Wry consideration caressed my mind. How do you know you're the protagonist?

Incomprehension blossomed."Surely I'm the protagonist in my own story."

Soft, lacerating laughter now. But how do you know whose story it is?