" Dumbledore! The Dark Lord is inside my body! Why haven't you done anything? Why?
Could 'I' have disguised myself too well?
How can I let Dumbledore know? Quirrell, you can do this... you're a Ravenclaw!
I've got it... Richard mentioned something... stereotyped behavior? I need to think of ways to give myself more abnormal little mannerisms..."
So those little mannerisms were repetitive, habitual movements Quirrell had practiced while lucid, desperately trying to show that something was wrong?
God... Quirrell really was... so tenacious. Who called him a coward? I'd be the first to object!
Zhang Xiao sucked in a sharp breath. Even in such dire straits, Quirrell had never given up, frantically searching for ways to save himself.
"I'm finding it harder and harder to tell who I am... I seem to be merging with 'me,' but my body is growing weaker. The Dark Lord is draining my life...
Save me, Dumbledore... save me... I can't hold on much longer...
I came to again. In my daze, I heard a beautiful cry unlike anything I'd ever heard. Was that lovely sound what woke me?
My God! What am I doing? I'm actually planning to let a troll loose in the school at Christmas?
How could young students possibly handle a terrifying monster like a troll?
No, no, no! I can't let the children die because of this. I'm a Hogwarts professor. I should protect them. I must protect them!
And... if the children get hurt because of 'me,' Dumbledore... he'll be disappointed in me, won't he..."
Wait, Christmas? Wasn't it Halloween?
Looking at it another way, though, Christmas was when the fewest people were around. Some professors chose that time to visit friends, so releasing a troll then really would provide a good chance to act