Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

by Eliezer Yudkowsky

  "I suppose that is acceptable," Harry said. His voice sounded a bit odd.

  "You can't be serious," Severus said, his voice as expressionless as his face.

  "I am very much in favor of this," Minerva said slowly. She was so much in favor that her heart was pounding wildly beneath her robes. "But what could we possibly tell the students? They might not have questioned this while Severus was... being awful to everyone, but -"

  "Harry can tell the other students that he discovered a terrible secret of Severus's and did a bit of blackmail," said Dumbledore. "It's true, after all; he discovered that Severus was reading minds, and he certainly did blackmail us."

  "This is insanity!" exploded Severus.

  "Bwah ha ha!" said Dumbledore.

  "Ah..." said Harry uncertainly. "And if anyone asks me why fifth years and above got shafted? I wouldn't blame them for being irate, and that part wasn't exactly my idea -"

  "Tell them," said Dumbledore, "that it wasn't you who suggested the compromise, that it was all you could get. And then refuse to say anything more. That, too, is true. There's an art to it, you'll pick it up with practice."

  Harry nodded slowly. "And the points he took from Ravenclaw?"

  "They must not be given back."

  It was Minerva who said it.

  Harry looked at her.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter," she said. She was sorry, but it had to be done. "There must be some consequences for your misbehavior or this school will fall to pieces."

  Harry shrugged. "Acceptable," he said flatly. "But in the future Severus will not strike at my House connections by taking points from me, nor will he waste my valuable time with detentions. Should he feel that my behavior requires correction, he may communicate his concerns to Professor McGonagall."

  "Harry," Minerva said, "will you continue to submit to school discipline, or are you to be above the law now, as Severus was?"

  Harry looked at her. Something warm touched his gaze, briefly before it was quashed. "I will continue to be an ordinary student to every member of the staff who is not insane or evil, provided that they do not come under pressure from others who are." Harry glanced briefly at Severus, then turned back to Dumbledore. "Leave Minerva alone, and I'll be a regular Hogwarts student in her presence. No special privileges or immunities."

  "Beautiful," Dumbledore said sincerely. "Spoken like a true hero."

  "And," she said, "Mr. Potter must publicly apologize for his actions of today."

  Harry gave her another look. This one was a bit skeptical.

  "The discipline of the school has been gravely injured by your actions, Mr. Potter," Minerva said. "It must be restored."

  "I think, Professor McGonagall, that you considerably overestimate the importance of what you call school discipline, as compared to having History taught by a live teacher or not torturing your students. Maintaining the current status hierarchy and enforcing its rules seems ever so much more wise and moral and important when you are on the top and doing the enforcing than when you are on the bottom, and I can cite studies to this effect if required. I could go on for several hours about this point, but I will leave it at that."

  Minerva shook her head. "Mr. Potter, you underestimate the importance of discipline because you are not in need of it yourself -" She paused. That hadn't come out right, and Severus, Dumbledore, and even Harry were giving her strange looks. "To learn, I mean. Not every child can learn in the absence of authority. And it is the other children who will be hurt, Mr. Potter, if they see your example as one to be followed."

  Harry's lips curved into a twisted smile. "The first and last resort is the truth. The truth is that I shouldn't have gotten angry, I shouldn't have disrupted the class, I shouldn't have done what I did, and I set a bad example for everyone. The truth is also that Severus Snape behaved in a fashion unbecoming a Hogwarts professor, and that from now on he will be more mindful of the injured feelings of students in their fourth year and under. The two of us could both get up and speak the truth. I could live with that."

  "In your dreams, Potter!" spat Severus.

  "After all," said Harry, smiling grimly, "if the students see that rules are for everyone... for professors too, not just for poor helpless students who get nothing but suffering out of the system... why, the positive effects on school discipline should be tremendous."

  There was a brief pause, and then Dumbledore chuckled. "Minerva is thinking that you're righter than you have any right to be."

  Harry's gaze jerked away from Dumbledore, down to the floor. "Are you reading her mind?"

  "Common sense is often mistaken for Legilimency," said Dumbledore. "I shall talk over this matter with Severus, and no apology will be required from you unless he apologizes as well. And now I declare this matter concluded, at least until lunchtime." He paused. "Although, Harry, I'm afraid that Minerva wished to speak with you about an additional matter. And that is not the result of any pressure on my part. Minerva, if you would?"

  Minerva rose from her chair and almost fell. There was too much adrenaline in her blood, her heart was beating too fast.

  "Fawkes," said Dumbledore, "accompany her, please."

  "I don't -" she started to say.

  Dumbledore shot her a look, and she fell silent.

  The phoenix soared across the room like a smooth tongue of flame leaping out, and landed on her shoulder. She felt the warmth through her robes, all through her body.

  "Please follow me, Mr. Potter," she said, firmly now, and they left through the door.

  They stood on the rotating stairs, descending in silence.

  Minerva didn't know what to say. She didn't know this person who stood beside her.

  And Fawkes began to croon.

  It was tender, and soft, like a fireplace would sound if it had melody, and it washed over Minerva's mind, easing, soothing, gentling what it touched...

  "What is that?" Harry whispered beside her. His voice was unstable, wobbling, changing pitch.

  "The song of the phoenix," said Minerva, not really aware of what she was saying, her attention was all on that strange quiet music. "It, too, heals."

  Harry turned his face from her, but she caught a glimpse of something agonized.

  The descent seemed to take a very long time, or maybe it was only that the music seemed to take a very long time, and when they stepped out through the gap where a gargoyle had been, she was holding Harry's hand firmly in hers.

  As the gargoyle stepped back into place, Fawkes left her shoulder, and swooped to hover in front of Harry.

  Harry stared at Fawkes like someone hypnotized by the ever-changing light of a fire.

  "What am I to do, Fawkes?" whispered Harry. "I couldn't have protected them if I hadn't been angry."

  The phoenix's wings continued flapping, it continued hovering in place. There was no sound but the beating of the wings. Then there was a flash like a fire flaring up and going out, and Fawkes was gone.

  Both of them blinked, like waking up from a dream, or maybe like falling asleep again.

  Minerva looked down.

  Harry Potter's bright young face looked up at her.

  "Are phoenixes people?" said Harry. "I mean, are they smart enough to count as people? Could I talk with Fawkes if I knew how?"

  Minerva blinked hard. Then she blinked again. "No," Minerva said, her voice wavering. "Phoenixes are creatures of powerful magic. That magic gives their existence a weight of meaning which no simple animal could possess. They are fire, light, healing, rebirth. But in the end, no."

  "Where can I get one?"

  Minerva leaned down and hugged him. She hadn't meant to, but she didn't seem to have much choice in the matter.

  When she stood up she found it hard to speak. But she had to ask. "What happened today, Harry?"

  "I don't know the answers to any of the important questions either. Aside from that I'd really rather not think about it for a while."

  Minerva took his hand in hers again, and they walked th
e rest of the way in silence.

  It was only a short trip, since naturally the office of the Deputy was close to the office of the Headmaster.

  Minerva sat behind her desk.

  Harry sat in front of her desk.

  "So," Minerva whispered. She would have given almost anything not to do this, or not to be the one who had to do it, or for it to be any time but right now. "There is a matter of school discipline. From which you are not exempt."

  "Namely?" said Harry.

  He didn't know. He hadn't figured it out yet. She felt her throat tighten. But there was work to be done and she would not shirk it.

  "Mr. Potter," said Professor McGonagall, "I need to see your Time-Turner, please."

  All the peace of the phoenix vanished from his face in an instant and Minerva felt like she had just stabbed him.

  "No!" Harry said. His voice was panicked. "I need it, I won't be able to attend Hogwarts, I won't be able to sleep!"

  "You'll be able to sleep," she said. "The Ministry has delivered the protective shell for your Time-Turner. I will enchant it to open only between the hours of 9PM and midnight."

  Harry's face twisted. "But - but I -"

  "Mr. Potter, how many times have you used the Time-Turner since Monday? How many hours?"

  "I..." Harry said. "Hold on, let me add it up -" He glanced down at his watch.

  Minerva felt a rush of sadness. She'd thought so. "It wasn't just two per day, then. I suspect that if I asked your dormmates, I would find that you were struggling to stay up long enough to go to sleep at a reasonable time, and waking up earlier and earlier every morning. Correct?"

  Harry's face said everything she needed to know.

  "Mr. Potter," she said gently, "there are students who cannot be entrusted with Time-Turners, because they become addicted to them. We give them a potion which lengthens their sleep cycle by the necessary amount, but they end up using the Time-Turner for more than just attending their classes. And so we must take them back. Mr. Potter, you have taken to using the Time-Turner as your solution to everything, often very foolishly so. You used it to get back a Remembrall. You vanished from a closet in a fashion apparent to other students, instead of going back after you were out and getting me or someone else to come and open the door."

  From the look on Harry's face he hadn't thought of that.

  "And more importantly," she said, "you should have simply sat in Professor Snape's class. And watched. And left at the end of class. As you would have done if you had not possessed a Time-Turner. There are some students who cannot be entrusted with Time-Turners, Mr. Potter. You are one of them. I am sorry."

  "But I need it!" Harry blurted. "What if there are Slytherins threatening me and I have to escape? It keeps me safe -"

  "Every other student in this castle runs the same risk, and I assure you that they survive. No student has died in this castle for fifty years. Mr. Potter, you will hand over your Time-Turner and do so now."

  Harry's face twisted in agony, but he drew out the Time-Turner from under his robes and gave it to her.

  From her desk, Minerva drew out one of the protective shells that had been sent to Hogwarts. She snapped the cover into place around the Time-Turner's turning hourglass, and then she laid her wand on the cover to complete the enchantment.

  "This isn't fair!" Harry shrieked. "I saved half of Hogwarts from Professor Snape today, is it right that I be punished for it? I saw the look on your face, you hated what he was doing!"

  Minerva didn't speak for a few moments. She was enchanting.

  When she finished and looked up, she knew that her face was stern. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do. And then again maybe it was the right thing to do. There was an obstinate child in front of her, and that didn't mean the universe was broken.

  "Fair, Mr. Potter?" she snapped. "I have had to file two reports with the Ministry on public use of a Time-Turner in two successive days! Be extremely grateful you were allowed to retain the Time-Turner even in restricted form! The Headmaster made a Floo call to plead with them personally and if you were not the Boy-Who-Lived even that would not have sufficed!"

  Harry gaped at her.

  She knew that he was seeing the angry face of Professor McGonagall.

  Harry's eyes filled up with tears.

  "I'm, sorry," he whispered, voice now choked and broken. "I'm sorry, to have, disappointed you..."

  "I'm sorry too, Mr. Potter," she said sternly, and handed him the newly restricted Time-Turner. "You may go."

  Harry turned and fled from her office, sobbing. She heard his feet pattering away down the hall, and then the sound cut off as the door swung closed.

  "I'm sorry too, Harry," she whispered to the quiet room. "I'm sorry too."

  Fifteen minutes into lunch hour.

  No one was speaking to Harry. Some of the Ravenclaws were shooting him looks of anger, others of sympathy, a few of the youngest students even had looks of admiration, but no one was talking to him. Even Hermione hadn't tried to come over.

  Fred and George had gingerly stepped near. They hadn't said anything. The offer was clear, and its optionality. Harry had told them that he would come over when dessert started, no earlier. They had nodded and quickly walked away.

  It was probably the utterly expressionless look on Harry's face that was doing it.

  The others probably thought he was controlling anger, or dismay. They knew, because they'd seen Flitwick come and get him, that he'd been called to the Headmaster's office.

  Harry was trying not to smile, because if he smiled, he would start laughing, and if he started laughing, he wouldn't stop until the nice people in white jackets came to haul him away.

  It was too much. It was just all too much. Harry had almost gone over to the Dark Side, his dark side had done things that seemed in retrospect insane, his dark side had won an impossible victory that might have been real and might have been a pure whim of a crazy Headmaster, his dark side had protected his friends. He just couldn't handle it any more. He needed Fawkes to sing to him again. He needed to use the Time-Turner to go off and take a quiet hour to recover but that wasn't an option any more and the loss was like a hole in his existence but he couldn't think about that because then he might start laughing.

  Twenty minutes. All the students who were going to eat lunch had arrived, almost none had departed.

  The tapping of a spoon rang through the Great Hall.

  "If I may have your attention please," Dumbledore said. "Harry Potter has something he would like to share with us."

  Harry took a deep breath and got up. He walked over to the Head Table, with every eye staring at him.

  Harry turned and looked out at the four tables.

  It was becoming harder and harder not to smile, but Harry kept his face expressionless as he spoke his brief and memorized speech.

  "The truth is sacred," Harry said tonelessly. "One of my most treasured possessions is a button which reads 'Speak the truth, even if your voice trembles'. This, then, is the truth. Remember that. I am not saying it because I am being forced to say it, I am saying it because it is true. What I did in Professor Snape's class was foolish, stupid, childish, and an inexcusable violation of the rules of Hogwarts. I disrupted the classroom and deprived my fellow students of their irreplaceable learning time. All because I failed to control my temper. I hope that not a single one of you will ever follow my example. I certainly intend to try never to follow it again."

  Many of the students gazing at Harry now had solemn, unhappy looks upon their faces, such as one might see at a ceremony marking the loss of a fallen champion. At the younger parts of the Gryffindor table the look was almost universal.

  Until Harry raised his hand.

  He did not raise it high. That might have appeared preemptory. He certainly did not raise it toward Severus. Harry simply raised his hand to chest level, and softly snapped his fingers, a gesture that was seen more than heard. It was possible that most of the Head Table wouldn't see it at a
ll.

  This seeming gesture of defiance won sudden smiles from the younger students and Gryffindors, and coldly superior sneers from Slytherin, and frowns and worried looks from all others.

  Harry kept his face expressionless. "Thank you," he said. "That's all."

  "Thank you, Mr. Potter," said the Headmaster. "And now Professor Snape has something to share with us as well."

  Severus smoothly stood up from his place at the Head Table. "It has been brought to my attention," he said, "that my own actions played a part in provoking the admittedly inexcusable anger of Mr. Potter, and in the ensuing discussion I realized that I had forgotten how easily injured are the feelings of the young and immature -"

  There was the sound of many people emitting muffled chokes at the same time.

  Severus continued as if he had not heard. "The Potions classroom is a dangerous place, and I still feel that strict discipline is necessary, but henceforth I will be more aware of the... emotional fragility... of students in their fourth year and younger. My deduction of points from Ravenclaw still stands, but I will revoke Mr. Potter's detention. Thank you."

  There was a single clap from the direction of Gryffindor and faster than lightning Severus's wand was in his hand and "Quietus!" silenced the offender.

  "I will still demand discipline and respect in all my classes," Severus said coldly, "and anyone who trifles with me will regret it."

  He sat down.

  "Thank you too!" Headmaster Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Carry on!"

  And Harry, still expressionless, began to walk back to his seat in Ravenclaw.

  There was an explosion of conversation. Two words were clearly identifiable in the beginning. The first was an initial "What -" beginning many different sentences such as "What just happened -" and "What the hell -" The second was "Scourgify!" as students cleaned up the dropped food and spit-out drinks from themselves, the tablecloth, and each other.

  Some students were weeping openly. So was Professor Sprout.

  At the Gryffindor table, where a cake waited with fifty-one unlit candles, Fred whispered, "I think we may be out of our league here, George."