Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

by Eliezer Yudkowsky

  "You are making me feel threatened," said a voice so icy it didn't sound like Harry's at all, "and that is a mistake."

  Severus's voice laughed. "What do you intend to do about it, little boy?"

  Harry took six long strides forward away from the door, until he was standing near the back row of desks.

  Then Harry drew himself upright and raised his right hand in one terrible motion, fingers poised to snap.

  Neville screamed and dived under his desk. Other children shrank back or instinctively raised their arms to shield themselves.

  "Harry don't!" shrieked Hermione. "Whatever you were going to do to him, don't do it!"

  "Have you all gone mad?" barked Severus's voice.

  Slowly, Harry lowered his hand. "I wasn't going to hurt him, Hermione," Harry said, his voice a little lower. "I was just going to blow up the door."

  Though now that Harry remembered it, you weren't supposed to Transfigure things that were to be burned, which meant that going back in time afterward and getting Fred or George to Transfigure some carefully measured amount of explosives might not actually have been such a good idea...

  "Silencio," said Severus's voice.

  Harry tried to say "What?" and found that no sound was coming out.

  "This has become ridiculous. I think you've been allowed to get yourself in enough trouble for one day, Potter. You are the most disruptive and unruly student I have ever seen, and I don't recall how many points Ravenclaw has right now, but I'm sure I can manage to wipe them all out. Ten points from Ravenclaw. Ten points from Ravenclaw. Ten points from Ravenclaw! Fifty points from Ravenclaw! Now sit down and watch the rest of the class take their lesson!"

  Harry put his hand into his pouch and tried to say 'marker' but of course no words came out. For one brief moment that stopped him; and then it occurred to Harry to spell out M-A-R-K-E-R using finger motions, which worked. P-A-D and he had a pad of paper. Harry strode over to an empty desk, not the one he'd originally sat down in, and scrawled a brief message. He tore off that sheet of paper, put away the marker and pad in a pocket of his robes for quicker access, and held up his message, not to Snape, but to the rest of the class.

  I'M LEAVING

  DOES ANYONE ELSE

  NEED TO GET OUT?

  "You're insane, Potter," Severus said with cold contempt.

  Aside from that, no one spoke.

  Harry swept an ironic bow to the teacher's desk, walked over to the wall, and with one smooth motion yanked open a closet door, stepped in, and slammed the door shut behind him.

  There was the muffled sound of someone snapping his fingers, and then nothing.

  In the classroom, students looked at each other in puzzlement and fear.

  The Potions Master's face was now completely enraged. He crossed the room in terrible strides and yanked open the closet door.

  The closet was empty.

  One hour earlier, Harry listened from inside the closed closet. There was no sound from outside, and no point in taking risks either.

  C-L-O-A-K, his fingers spelled out.

  Once he was invisible, he very carefully and slowly cracked open the closet door and peeked out. No one seemed to be in the classroom.

  The door wasn't locked.

  It was when Harry was outside the dangerous place and inside the hallway, safely invisible, that some of the anger drained away and he realized what he'd just done.

  What he'd just done.

  Harry's invisible face was frozen in absolute horror.

  He'd antagonized a teacher three orders of magnitude beyond anything he'd ever managed before. He'd threatened to walk out of Hogwarts and might have to follow through on it. He'd lost all the points Ravenclaw had and then he'd used the Time-Turner...

  His imagination showed him his parents yelling at him after he was expelled, Professor McGonagall disappointed in him, and it was just too painful and he couldn't bear it and he couldn't think of any way to save himself -

  The thought that Harry allowed himself to think was that if getting angry had gotten him into all this trouble, then maybe when he was angry he'd think of a way out, things seemed clearer somehow when he was angry.

  And the thought that Harry didn't let himself think was that he just couldn't face this future if he wasn't angry.

  So he cast his thoughts back and remembered the burning humiliation -

  Tut, tut. Fame clearly isn't everything.

  Ten points from Ravenclaw for backchat.

  The calming cold washed back through his veins like a wave reflected and returning from some breaker, and Harry let out his breath.

  Okay. Back to being sane now.

  He was actually feeling a bit disappointed in his non-angry self for collapsing like that and wanting only to get out of trouble. Professor Severus Snape was everyone's problem. Normal-Harry had forgotten that and wished for a way to protect himself. And let all the other victims go hang? The question wasn't how to protect himself, the question was how to destroy this Potions professor.

  So this is my dark side, is it? Bit of a prejudiced term that, my light side seems more selfish and cowardly, not to mention confused and panicky.

  And now that he was thinking clearly, it was equally clear what to do next. He'd already given himself an extra hour to prepare, and could get up to five hours more if required...

  Minerva McGonagall waited in the Headmaster's office.

  Dumbledore sat in his padded throne behind his desk, dressed in four layers of formal lavender robes. Minerva sat in a chair before him, opposite Severus in another chair. Facing the three of them was an empty wooden stool.

  They were waiting for Harry Potter.

  Harry, Minerva thought despairingly, you promised you wouldn't bite any teachers!

  And in her mind she could see very clearly the reply, Harry's angry face and his outraged response: I said I wouldn't bite anyone who didn't bite me first!

  There was a knock at the door.

  "Come in!" Dumbledore called.

  The door swept open, and Harry Potter entered. Minerva almost gasped out loud. The boy looked cool, collected, and utterly in control of himself.

  "Good mor-" Harry's voice suddenly cut off. His jaw dropped.

  Minerva tracked Harry's gaze, and she saw that Harry was staring at Fawkes where the phoenix sat on its golden perch. Fawkes fluttered his bright red-golden wings like the flickering of a flame, and dipped his head in a measured nod to the boy.

  Harry turned to stare at Dumbledore.

  Dumbledore winked at him.

  Minerva felt she was missing something.

  Sudden uncertainty crossed Harry's face. His coolness wavered. Fear showed in his eyes, then anger, and then the boy was calm again.

  A chill went down Minerva's spine. Something was not right here.

  "Please sit down," said Dumbledore. His face was now serious once more.

  Harry sat.

  "So, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I've heard one report of this day from Professor Snape. Would you care to tell me what happened in your own words?"

  Harry's gaze flicked dismissively to Severus. "It's not complicated," said the boy, smiling thinly. "He tried bullying me the way he's been bullying every non-Slytherin in the school since the day Lucius foisted him off on you. As for the other details, I request a private conversation with you concerning them. A student who is reporting abusive behavior from a professor can hardly be expected to speak frankly in front of that same professor, after all."

  This time Minerva couldn't stop herself from gasping out loud.

  Severus simply laughed.

  And the Headmaster's face grew grave. "Mr. Potter," the Headmaster said, "one does not speak of a Hogwarts professor in such terms. I fear that you labor under a terrible misapprehension. Professor Severus Snape has my fullest confidence, and serves Hogwarts at my own behest, not Lucius Malfoy's."

  There was silence for a few moments.

  When the boy spoke again his voice was icy. "Am
I missing something here?"

  "Quite a number of things, Mr. Potter," said the Headmaster. "You should understand, to start with, that the purpose of this meeting is to discuss how to discipline you for the events of this morning."

  "This man has terrorized your school for years. I spoke to students and collected stories to make sure there would be enough for a newspaper campaign to rally the parents against him. Some of the younger students cried while they told me. I almost cried when I heard them! You allowed this abuser to run free? You did this to your students? Why?"

  Minerva swallowed a lump in her throat. She'd - thought that, sometimes, but somehow she'd never quite -

  "Mr. Potter," said the Headmaster, his voice now stern, "this meeting is not about Professor Snape. It is about you and your disregard for school discipline. Professor Snape has suggested, and I have agreed, that three full months of detention will be appropriate -"

  "Declined," Harry said icily.

  Minerva was speechless.

  "This is not a request, Mr. Potter," the Headmaster said. The full, entire force of the wizard's gaze was turned on the boy. "This is your punishme-"

  "You will explain to me why you allowed this man to hurt the children placed in your care, and if your explanation is not sufficient then I will begin my newspaper campaign with you as the target."

  Minerva's body swayed with the force of that blow, with the sheer raw lese majeste.

  Even Severus looked shocked.

  "That, Harry, would be most extremely unwise," Dumbledore said slowly. "I am the primary piece opposing Lucius on the gameboard. For you to do such a thing would strengthen him greatly, and I did not think that was your chosen side."

  The boy was still for a long moment.

  "This conversation grows private," Harry said. His hand flicked in Severus's direction. "Send him away."

  Dumbledore shook his head. "Harry, did I not tell you that Severus Snape has my fullest confidence?"

  The boy's face showed the shock of it. "This man's bullying makes you vulnerable! I am not the only one who could start a newspaper campaign against you! This is insane! Why are you doing this?"

  Dumbledore sighed. "I'm sorry, Harry. It has to do with things that you are not, at this time, ready to hear."

  The boy stared at Dumbledore. Then he turned to look at Severus. Then back to Dumbledore again.

  "It is insanity," the boy said slowly. "You haven't reined him in because you think he's part of the pattern. That Hogwarts needs an evil Potions Master to be a proper magical school, just as it needs a ghost to teach History."

  "That does sound like the sort of thing I would do, doesn't it?" said Dumbledore, smiling.

  "Unacceptable," Harry said flatly. His gaze was now cold and dark. "I will not tolerate bullying or abuse. I had considered many possible ways of dealing with this problem, but I will make it simple. Either this man goes, or I do."

  Minerva gasped again. Something strange flickered in Severus's eyes.

  Now Dumbledore's gaze was also growing cold. "Expulsion, Mr. Potter, is the final threat which may be used against a student. It is not customarily used as a threat by students against the Headmaster. This is the best magical school in the entire world, and an education here is not an opportunity given to everyone. Are you under the impression that Hogwarts cannot get along without you?"

  And Harry sat there, smiling thinly.

  Sudden horror dawned on Minerva. Surely Harry wouldn't -

  "You forget," Harry said, "that you're not the only one who can see patterns. This grows private. Now send him -" Harry flicked a hand at Severus again, and then stopped in mid-sentence and mid-gesture.

  Minerva could see it on Harry's face, the moment when he remembered.

  She'd told him, after all.

  "Mr. Potter," said the Headmaster, "once again, Severus Snape has my fullest confidence."

  "You told him," whispered the boy. "You utter fool."

  Dumbledore didn't react to the insult. "Told him what?"

  "That the Dark Lord is alive."

  "What in Merlin's name are you on about, Potter?" cried Severus in tones of sheer astonishment and outrage.

  Harry glanced briefly at him, smiling grimly. "Oh, so we are a Slytherin, then," Harry said. "I was starting to wonder."

  And then there was silence.

  Finally Dumbledore spoke. His voice was mild. "Harry, what are you talking about?"

  "I'm sorry, Albus," Minerva whispered.

  Severus and Dumbledore turned to look at her.

  "Professor McGonagall didn't tell me," said Harry's voice, swiftly and less calm than it had been. "I guessed. I told you, I can see the patterns too. I guessed, and she controlled her reaction just as Severus did. But her control fell a shade short of perfection, and I could tell it was control, not genuine."

  "And I told him," said Minerva, her voice trembling a little, "that you, and I, and Severus were the only ones who knew."

  "Which she did as a concession to prevent me from simply going around asking questions, as I threatened to do if she didn't talk," Harry said. The boy chuckled briefly. "I really should have gotten one of you alone and told you that she told me everything, to see if you let anything slip. Probably wouldn't have worked, but would have been worth a shot." The boy smiled again. "Threat's still on the table and I do expect to be briefed fully at some point."

  Severus was giving her a look of utter contempt. Minerva raised her chin and bore it. She knew it was deserved.

  Dumbledore leaned back in his padded throne. His eyes were as cold as anything Minerva had seen from him since the day his brother died. "And you threaten to abandon us to Voldemort if we do not comply with your wishes."

  Harry's voice was razor-sharp. "I regret to inform you that you are not the center of the universe. I'm not threatening to walk out on magical Britain. I'm threatening to walk out on you. I am not a meek little Frodo. This is my quest and if you want in you will play by my rules."

  Dumbledore's face was still cold. "I am beginning to doubt your suitability as the hero, Mr. Potter."

  Harry's return gaze was equally icy. "I am beginning to doubt your suitability as my Gandalf, Mr. Dumbledore. Boromir was at least a plausible mistake. What is this Nazgul doing in my Fellowship?"

  Minerva was completely lost. She looked at Severus, to see if he was following this, and she saw that Severus had turned his face away from Harry's field of vision and was smiling.

  "I suppose," Dumbledore said slowly, "that from your perspective it is a reasonable question. So, Mr. Potter, if Professor Snape is to leave you alone henceforth, will that be the last time this issue arises, or will I find you here every week with a new demand?"

  "Leave me alone?" Harry's voice was outraged. "I am not his only victim and certainly not the most vulnerable! Have you forgotten how defenseless children are? How much they hurt? Henceforth Severus will treat every student of Hogwarts with appropriate and professional courtesy, or you will find another Potions Master, or you will find another hero!"

  Dumbledore started laughing. Full-throated, warm, humorous laughter, as if Harry had just performed a comic dance in front of him.

  Minerva didn't dare move. Her eyes flickered and she saw that Severus was equally motionless.

  Harry's visage grew even colder. "You mistake me, Headmaster, if you think that this is a joke. This is not a request. This is your punishment."

  "Mr. Potter -" Minerva said. She didn't even know what she was going to say. She simply couldn't let that go by.

  Harry made a shushing gesture at her and continued to speak to Dumbledore. "And if that seems impolite to you," Harry said, his voice now a little less hard, "it seemed no less impolite when you said it to me. You would not say such a thing to anyone who you considered a real human being instead of a subordinate child, and I will treat you with just the same courtesy as you treat me -"

  "Oh, indeed, in very deed, this is my punishment if ever there was one! Of course you're in here
blackmailing me to save your fellow students, not to save yourself! I can't imagine why I would have thought otherwise!" Dumbledore was now laughing even harder. He pounded his fist on the desk three times.

  Harry's gaze grew uncertain. His face turned toward her, addressing her for the first time. "Excuse me," Harry said. His voice seemed to be wavering. "Does he need to take his medication or something?"

  "Ah..." Minerva had no idea what she could possibly say.

  "Well," said Dumbledore. He wiped away tears that had formed in his eyes. "Pardon me. I'm sorry for the interruption. Please continue with the blackmail."

  Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. He now seemed a little unsteady. "Ah... he's also to stop reading students' minds."

  "Minerva," Severus said, his voice deadly, "you -"

  "Sorting Hat warned me," said Harry.

  "What?"

  "Can't say anything else. Anyway I think that's it. I'm done."

  Silence.

  "Now what?" Minerva said, when it became apparent that no one else was going to say anything.

  "Now what?" Dumbledore echoed. "Why, now the hero wins, of course."

  "What?" said Severus, Minerva, and Harry.

  "Well, he certainly seems to have backed us into a corner," Dumbledore said, smiling happily. "But Hogwarts does need an evil Potions Master, or it just wouldn't be a proper magical school, now would it? So how about if Professor Snape is only awful toward students in their fifth year and higher?"

  "What?" said all three of them again.

  "If it's the most vulnerable victims about whom you're concerned. Maybe you're right, Harry. Maybe I have forgotten over the decades what it's like to be a child. So let's compromise. Severus will continue to unfairly award points to Slytherin and impose lax discipline on his House, and he will be awful to non-Slytherin students in their fifth year and higher. To others he will be scary, but not abusive. He will promise to only read minds when the safety of a student requires it. Hogwarts will have its evil Potions Master, and the most vulnerable victims, as you put it, will be safe."

  Minerva McGonagall was as shocked as she'd ever been in her life. She glanced uncertainly at Severus, whose face had been left completely neutral, as though he couldn't decide what sort of expression he ought to be wearing.