Harry Potter and the Way of Reason

Blood sacrifice to the blood god!Dedicated to J.K. Rowling! [2]

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Draco looked stern.For some reason, his green-trimmed robe looked more formal, dignified, neat and chic than the same style of robes worn by the two boys standing behind him.

"Say," Draco said.

"Yes! Say!"

"You heard the boss! Say it!"

"And you two, shut up."

The last class on Friday was about to start, and the four Houses gathered in the great hall where they had previously studied Defense Against the Dark Arts... er, combat magic.

Last class on Friday.

Harry hoped that this class would not be too stressful, and the clever Professor Quirrell would find that this might not be a good time to wake Harry up.Harry recovered a bit, but...

…but, just in case, it might be best to just relax.

Harry leaned back in his chair and gave Draco and his followers a very serious look.

"You want to ask, what is our goal?" Harry declared. "I can answer you in one word. Victory. Win no matter the cost - no matter how much fear - no matter how long and hard the road, because without it there is no-"[3]

"Talk about Snape," Draco hissed. "what have you done?"

Harry washed off his pretend solemnity and gave Draco a more serious look.

"You saw it," said Harry. "Everybody saw it. I snapped my fingers."

"Harry! Stop teasing me!"

So he's upgraded to Harry now.interesting.And actually Harry was pretty sure he should notice it, and feel bad if he didn't respond in some way...

Harry nodded his ear, and cast a meaningful glance at the two footmen.

"They won't tell," Draco said.

"Draco," said Harry, "to be honest, I wasn't too impressed with Mr. Goyle's wit yesterday."

Mr. Gower's face twitched.

"Me too," Draco said. "I explained to him that he made me owe you a favor yesterday." (Mr. Gower's face twitches again.) "But there's a big difference between that kind of mistake and indiscretion. And that's really It's something they've trained and understood since they were kids."

"Fine then," said Harry.He lowered his voice even though the background sound was already muffled by the time Draco appeared. "I deduced a secret about Severus and blackmailed him."

Draco looked determined. "Fine, now tell me something else, not the 'best secret' you're using to fool those Gryffindor idiots, I know you're telling them to spread the word around the school."

Harry couldn't help grinning, a grin he knew Draco had caught.

"What did Severus say?" Harry said.

"He didn't realize how sensitive a child's mind is," Draco said. "Say it to Slytherin! Say it to me!"

"Are you sure," said Harry, "that you want to know something your headmaster doesn't want you to know?"

"Sure," Draco said without hesitation.

interesting. "Then you really have to send your minion away first, because I'm not sure I can believe what you believe about them."

Draco nodded. "no problem."

Mr. Clark and Mr. Gower looked very unhappy. "Boss—" Clark said.

"Mr. Potter has no reason to trust you," Draco said. "roll!"

They left.

"Especially," said Harry, lowering his voice, "I'm not entirely sure they won't just report what I said to Lucius."

"Father wouldn't do that!" Draco said, horror written all over his face. "They are mine!"

"Sorry, Draco," Harry said. "I'm just not sure I can trust everything you believe about your father. Imagine it's your secret and I tell you my father wouldn't do that."

Draco nodded slowly. "You're right. I'm sorry, Harry. It was my fault for asking for your trust."

How did I escalate to this point?Shouldn't he hate me now?Harry had a feeling that what he was seeing now was something to use...he only wished his brain wasn't so tired.Normally, he would be happy to try to make up some complicated plots.

"Anyway," said Harry. "Deal. I'll tell you a truth that no one else will ever know, and it won't get out, least of all your father, in exchange for telling me how you and Slytherin feel about the whole thing." watch."

"make a deal!"

Now say it as vaguely as possible... say something that won't do too much harm if it gets out..." I'm telling the truth. I did find out one of Severus' secrets, and I did blackmail him Yes. But Severus wasn't the only one involved."

"I knew it!" Draco said happily.

Harry's heart sank.What he revealed was obviously very important, and he didn't know why.This is not a good sign.

"Okay," Draco said, smiling wider. "Now tell you the Slytherin's reaction. First, all the idiots were yelling 'We hate Harry Potter! Let's beat him up!'"

Harry choked. "What's wrong with the Sorting Hat? This isn't Slytherin, this is Gryffindor."

"Not all kids are geniuses," Draco said, though his smile was a little malicious, as if to imply that he secretly agreed with Harry's views. "And then someone spends 15 seconds explaining to the group why it might not be good for Snape, so you'll be fine. Anyway, then there's a second wave of idiots, and these people say, 'It seems like Harry Potter Just another nice guy who likes to meddle in his own business.'”

"And then?" said Harry, and although he didn't know why the idea was stupid, he smiled a bit.

"Then the really smart people started talking. Obviously, you found some way to put pressure on Snape. And you have more than one chip in your hand...Obviously, the next thing to do is to think of this and Snape Pu's mysterious hold on Dumbledore. Am I right?"

"No comment," Harry said.At least his brain got that part of the guess right.Slytherin did wonder why Severus hadn't been fired.Then they concluded that Snape was blackmailing Dumbledore.Could this be true...?But Dumbledore's performance doesn't look like...

Draco continued. "The next thing those smart people pointed out was that if you pressured Snape enough to let him spare half of Hogwarts, you probably also had enough power to expel him entirely, if you wanted to. You are humiliating him, as he tried to humiliate you—but you spared our dean."

Harry allowed himself to smile a little wider.

"Then the really smart ones," Draco said, looking serious, "went aside and had some internal discussions among themselves, and someone pointed out that it's very stupid to keep enemies around like that. If you can Break his grip on Dumbledore, that's obviously what you should do. Dumbledore will kick Snape out of Hogwarts, maybe even kill him, and he will be very grateful to you, and you will use Stop worrying about Snape sneaking into your dorm in the middle of the night with some interesting potions."

Harry looked calm.He hasn't thought about it yet, and he really, really should. "Then your conclusion is...?"

"Snape holds Dumbledore's secret, and you know what it is!" Draco said with ecstasy. "Won't be strong enough to completely destroy Dumbledore, otherwise Snape would have used it long ago. Snape has always refused to use the secret except to keep himself on the throne of Slytherin House at Hogwarts ;even then he can't always do what he wants, so there must be some restrictions. But it's definitely a great secret! Father's got it from Snape for years!"

"And then," said Harry, "now Lucius thought maybe I could tell him. Did you get the owl—"

"I'll have it tonight," Draco said, and laughed. "It will read," his voice changed to a more formal tone, "my dear son: I have warned you of the potential importance of Harry Potter. As you know, his Now stronger and more urgent. If you find any possible avenues of friendship or means of pressure, you must pursue them, and the resources of the entire Malfoy family are at your disposal if need be."

gosh. "Okay," said Harry, "without judging whether your whole set of complicated theories are right or not, let me just clarify that we are not such good friends at the moment."

"I know," Draco said.Then his expression became very serious, and even after blocking out the noise, his voice seemed very small. "Harry, did it ever occur to you that Dumbledore might just kill you if you learned something he didn't want others to know? And by the way, turn the Boy Who Lived from a potential rival leader into a useful martyr."

"No comment," Harry repeated.Nor had he thought about the last part.Doesn't seem like Dumbledore's style...but...

"Harry," Draco said, "you do have amazing talent, but you're untrained, you don't have a mentor, you do stupid things sometimes, and you really need a counselor who knows, or you're going to get hurt !" Draco looked excited.

"Ah," said Harry, "an advisor like Lucius?"

"Like me!" Draco said. "I swear I'll keep your secret from my father, from everyone, just to help you figure out anything you want!"

Wow.

Harry saw Professor Quirrell in zombie form stumbling through the door.

"Lessons are about to start," said Harry. "I'll think about what you say, and a lot of the time I do wish I'd gone through your training, I just don't know how I could trust you so quickly—"

"You shouldn't trust me," Draco said, "it's too soon. See? I'll give you useful advice even if it hurts me. But maybe we should hurry up and become closer friends." .”

"That's all right," said Harry, already thinking about how to make use of it.

"One more suggestion," Draco said quickly, as Professor Quirrell was walking listlessly towards his desk, "everyone in Slytherin is curious about you now, so if you want With our support, you should do something to show your friendship with Slytherin. As soon as possible, say today or tomorrow."

"Isn't it enough to have Severus go on to give Slythering House points?" Harry had no reason not to count that in.

There was a flash of understanding in Draco's eyes, and then he said quickly, "It's different, trust me, it has to be obvious. Corner your mudblood rival Granger, or something like that, Everyone in Slytherin will know that means—"

"That's not what Ravenclaw does, Draco! If you have to corner someone, your brains are too weak to stand up to him, and everyone in Ravenclaw knows—"

The screen on Harry's desk flickered and lit up, causing a sudden surge of nostalgia for computer television.

"Uh-huh," Professor Quirrell's voice seemed to be speaking directly to Harry off-screen. "please sit down."

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So the kids all sat down, staring at the monitors on their desks, or directly at Professor Quirrell, who was standing on the white marble steps, leaning on the desk on the dark marble lectern.

"Today," said Professor Quirrell, "I planned to teach you the first defensive spell, a small shield. This spell is the predecessor of today's armor protection. But on second thought, based on some recent events, I Revise the lesson plan."

Professor Quirrell cast a searching glance over the rows of seats.Harry sat in the back seat, his expression twitching.He had a hunch who would be called up.

"Draco, a member of the old and noble Malfoy family," said Professor Quirrell.

Eh.

"Yes, Professor?" Draco said.The monitor sliced ​​into Draco's face as he spoke, and his voice was amplified as if coming from the monitor on Harry's desk.Then the screen cut back to Professor Quirrell, and Professor Quirrell said:

"Is your ambition to be the next Dark Lord?"

"That's a strange question, Professor," Draco said. "I mean, who would be stupid enough to admit it?"

A few students laughed, but not many.

"Indeed," said Professor Quirrell. "So there's no point in asking you, but I wouldn't be surprised if one or two students in my class secretly harbored ambitions to be the next Dark Lord. After all, when I was a young Slytherin, I just want to be the next Dark Lord."

There were far more laughs this time.

"Well, Slytherin is an ambitious house after all," Professor Quirrell laughed. "I found out later that what I really enjoy is battle magic, and my real ambition is to become a powerful battle mage and one day teach at Hogwarts. Anyway, when I was 13, I put I read all the books in the history section of the Hogwarts library, carefully reviewed the lives and destinies of the Dark Lords in the past, and then I wrote a list of all the things I would never do when I became the Dark Lord. fault-"

Harry couldn't help giggling.

"Yeah, Mr. Potter, that's interesting. So, Mr. Potter, can you guess what the headline of the list is?"

marvelous. "Uh... When you can direct Abracadabra, don't use other complicated ways to deal with the enemy?"

"The correct pronunciation, Mr. Potter, is Avada Kedavra." For some reason, Professor Quirrell's voice suddenly became a little sharper, "and no, this one is not on the list I made when I was 13 years old. Mind you Guess again?"

"Ah... don't you ever show off your evil grand plans to anyone?"

Professor Quirrell laughed. "Ah, that's number two. Why, Mr. Potter, don't we read the same books?"

There was more laughter, mixed with some tension.Harry gritted his teeth and said nothing.Denial will have no effect.

"But not this either. The headline of the list is, 'I will not go around provoking strong, vicious enemies.' If Monulich Falkensbahn and Hitler had followed through on this basic principle,[4 ] The history of the world would be quite different. Now, if, Mr. Potter—only if, in case, you secretly harbor ambitions similar to those I had when I was a young Slytherin—even so, I hope your ambitions Not turning into a stupid Dark Lord, either."

"Professor Quirrell," Harry said through gritted teeth, "I am Ravenclaw, and my ambition is not to be stupid, so that's all. I know what I did today was stupid. But it's not evil! It's I didn't start this fight first!"

"You, Mr. Potter, are a silly boy. But so was I when I was your age. I have therefore anticipated your answer and have revised today's lesson plan accordingly. Mr. Gregory Gower, would you please Would you like to come to the front?"

There was a surprised pause in the classroom.Harry hadn't expected this.

Judging from Mr. Gore's expression, he didn't expect it either.As he stepped onto the marble steps and lectern, his expression became more hesitant and anxious.

Professor Quirrell left the table he had just leaned on and stood up straight.His appearance suddenly became stronger, his hands clenched into fists, and he assumed a very obvious martial arts stance.

Harry stared at the scene with wide eyes. He knew why Mr. Goyle had been called up.

"Most wizards," said Professor Quirrell, "don't care much about what Muggles call martial arts. Aren't wands stronger than fists? That attitude is stupid. Wands are held by fists. If you want to be a powerful Battle mage, you have to practice martial arts to the point where even Muggles will look at you with admiration. I will now demonstrate a life-threatening technique that I learned at the Dojo, a Muggle martial arts school. I will Let's talk about the dojo. Now..." Professor Quirrell took a few steps forward, and stood in front of Mr. Gore while maintaining a martial arts stance. "Mr. Gower, I ask you to attack me."

"Professor Quirrell," said Goyle, his voice now as amplified as the Professor's, "I can ask where you've been—"

"Duan [-]. You won't get hurt, and neither will I. If you see any gaps, attack as much as you want."

Mr. Goyle nodded, looking more relaxed.

"Attention," said Professor Quirrell, "Mr. Gore is afraid of attacking people who don't have some level of understanding of martial arts. He is afraid that I, or himself, will be injured. Mr. Gore is very correct. Three points for him Quirrell points. Now, let's go to war!"

The young boy sprinted forward like lightning, his fists flying, and Professor Quirrell blocked every punch and moved backwards. Quirrell kicked Goyle, Goyle caught it, turned around, and tried to knock Quirrell away with his sweeping legs. Lo stumbled and Quirrell jumped up to avoid Goyle's attack; it all happened so quickly that Harry had no idea what was happening.Then Gore lay on the ground and kicked his legs, Professor Quirrell actually flew into the air, and then his shoulder hit the floor first, and the whole person rolled on the floor a few times.

"Stop!" Professor Quirrell shouted from the floor, his voice a little panicked. "you win!"

Mr. Gower jumped to his feet, staggered, and almost fell; the sudden stop of his momentum in the direction of Professor Quirrell almost caused him to fall.He looked shocked.

Professor Quirrell arched his back and bounced up with a strange jumping motion, completely without using his hands.

There was silence in the classroom, a silence born of confusion.

"Mr. Gower," said Professor Quirrell, "what is the vital skill I have demonstrated?"

"How to fall properly when someone throws you," Mr. Gower said. "It's one of the basic lessons you learned in the very beginning—"

"That counts," said Professor Quirrell.

pause.

"The vital and vital technique I have demonstrated," said Professor Quirrell, "is how to throw in the towel. You may go, Mr. Gower, thank you."

Mr. Gore stepped off the stage, his expression even more confused.So does Harry.

Professor Quirrell walked back behind the desk and continued to lean on it. "Sometimes we forget the most basic things because it's been so long since we learned them. I find myself making the same mistake when planning lessons. Before teaching students to throw, they should be taught How to fall. I can never teach you how to fight before you understand how to throw in the towel."

Professor Quirrell's expression hardened, and Harry thought he saw a hint of pain and sadness in his eyes. "I learned how to throw in the towel in a dojo in Asia; as any Muggle knows, the best martial artists are in an Asian dojo. The martial arts taught in this dojo are famous among battle mages for being perfect for magical duels The master at the dojo - an old man in Muggle terms - is the best living teacher of this martial art. Of course, he didn't know magic existed. I applied to study there, and since that year Out of the crowd of competitors, one of the few accepted students. There may be a little bit of special influence mixed in with the whole process.”

There was some laughter in the classroom.Harry didn't smile.This is not the right thing to do.

"All in all. My first fight, after I was knocked out in a humiliating fashion, I lost control; I went at the man who was sparring with me—"

Ouch.

"—with fists, luckily, not magic. Surprisingly, the Master didn't fire me outright. But he told me there was a flaw in my temperament. He explained it to me, and I knew he was Right. Then he said he was going to teach me how to throw in the towel.”

Professor Quirrell was expressionless.

"Under his strict orders, all the students in the dojo lined up. They came to me one by one. I could not defend myself. I could only beg for mercy. One by one they slapped me or punched me , and pushed me to the ground. Some of them spat at me. They abused me with the worst swear words in their language. And to everyone I had to say, 'I lost!' or something like that , like 'Please stop!' or 'I admit you're better than me!'"

Harry tried to imagine, but the imagination failed.It is impossible for this kind of thing to happen to such a majestic Professor Quirrell.

"Even back then, I was a prodigy in combat magic. Even with only wand magic, I could have killed everyone in the dojo. But I didn't. I learned to admit defeat. I will make that day my life I remember the most unpleasant hours of my life. And when I was about to leave the ashram eight months later—I didn’t have enough time, but I could afford only so much—the master told me that he hoped I understood why those experiences were necessary. Then I told him it was one of the most valuable lessons I learned. It was as true then as it is now."

Professor Quirrell's expression became bitter. "You are wondering where this martial arts gym is, and whether you can go there to study. You can't go. Not long after, another person who wanted to be a student came to this hidden secret place on a remote mountain. The one who can't even name who mentioned it."

There was a gasp in the classroom at the same time.Harry's stomach tightened.He knew what was coming.

"The Dark Lord didn't put on any disguise, red eyes and all, and he just broke into the school. The students tried to stop him, but he simply Apparated. He caused There was a bit of panic, but everyone was restrained, and then the Grand Master stepped forward. Then the Dark Lord asked - not begged, demanded - that the Grand Master teach him martial arts."

Professor Quirrell's expression was very tough. "Maybe the Master has read too many fictional stories that real warriors can defeat even demons. Anyway, the Master refused. The Dark Lord asked why he couldn't be a student. The Master said he was too impatient, so the Dark Lord cut off the His tongue."

There was a neat gasp from below the stage.

"You can guess what happened next. The students tried to surprise the Dark Lord, but they all fell and stood there. Then..."

Professor Quirrell's voice trembled for a moment, then recovered.

"There is an Unforgivable Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, which can inflict unbearable suffering. If the Cruciatus Curse lasts longer than a few minutes, it causes permanent insanity. The Dark Lord casts the Cruciatus Curse on the Master's pupils one by one, throwing them Driven mad, then finished them with a killing curse, and the master was forced to watch. When all the students were dead, the master followed. I learned this from the only student who survived, black The devil left him to tell this story, and he is also a friend of mine..."

Professor Quirrell turned his back, and after a while, he turned back, seemingly regaining his composure and composure.

"Dark wizards can't control their tempers," said Professor Quirrell quietly. "This is almost a common shortcoming of this type of people, and anyone who is used to fighting them will quickly learn to take advantage of it. You know, the Dark Lord didn't win that day. His purpose was to learn martial arts, but what? Left without learning. The Dark Lord was so stupid that he wanted this story to be told. Instead of showing his strength, the story revealed an exploitable weakness."

Professor Quirrell's eyes fell on a child in the classroom.

"Harry Potter," said Professor Quirrell.

"Yes," said Harry, his voice hoarse.

"Exactly, what did you do wrong today, Mr. Potter?"

Harry felt sick to his stomach. "I lost my temper."

"That's not accurate," Professor Quirrell said. "I'll describe it more precisely. There's a behavior called competition for dominance that exists in many animals. They push each other with their horns—trying to knock each other down, rather than stab them. They fight each other with their paws— Didn't show their claws. But why don't they show their claws? If they showed their claws, wouldn't they have a better chance of winning? But then their enemies might show their claws too, and things don't end up in the competition for dominance It will end in a win or a loss, and both of them may be seriously injured."

Professor Quirrell's gaze seemed to penetrate the screen, looking straight at Harry. "Mr. Potter, what you've been behaving today—unlike those animals who put their paws back and accept the outcome of the struggle—you don't understand how to lose a contest for dominance. When a Hogwarts professor challenged you, you didn't Back off. When it looked like you were going to lose, you showed your claws, oblivious to the danger. You let the whole fight expand, and then expand again. Professor Snape slapped you first, compared to you, He was clearly in a dominant position. Instead of throwing in the towel, you slapped it back, and Ravenclaw lost ten points. Soon you started talking about leaving Hogwarts. You even went so far as to extend the battle to some unknown direction, And then somehow won at the end. Your win doesn't change the fact that you're being stupid."

"I see," Harry said.His throat felt dry.His description is too precise.Scaringly precise.Now that Professor Quirrell's words were in front of him, Harry could see with the benefit of hindsight that this was indeed what had happened before.When someone sees you so clearly, you can't help but wonder if they're right about other things, like your killing tendencies, for example.

"Next time, Mr. Potter, when you choose to expand the war instead of admitting defeat, you may lose all your chips. I can't guess what you will lose. What I can guess is that you will pay more than A mere [-] college points is far more expensive."

Such as the fate of the British wizarding world.This is what he did.

"You'll argue that you're trying to help all of Hogwarts, a far more important cause, that's worth the huge risk. That's a lie. If you—"

"I should have just gotten the slap, waited, and picked the best moment to act," said Harry, his voice hoarse. "But that would mean I lost. I would have to submit to him. That's what the Dark Lord couldn't have the Master do to him."

Professor Quirrell nodded. "It seems that you understand completely. Therefore, Mr. Potter, today you will learn how to admit defeat."

"I--"

"I will not listen to any refusal, Mr. Potter. Obviously, you need this lesson, and you are strong enough to receive it. I assure you, your experience will not be as harsh as mine, although you Maybe also remember this as the worst 15 minutes of your junior life."

Harry swallowed. "Professor Quirrell," he whispered, "can we do it next time?"

"No," said Professor Quirrell dryly. "You've only been at Hogwarts for five days and this has happened. It's Friday. Our next Defense class is Wednesday. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday... no , we have no time to wait."

There was laughter, but very little.

"Consider it as an order from the professor, Mr. Potter. I would say otherwise I would not have taught you any defensive spells, because I would have heard later that you had badly wounded or even killed someone. Unfortunately, I heard Saying that your fingers are already some sort of powerful weapon. Please don't snap your fingers at any point in class."

The laughter widened, accompanied by more restlessness.

Harry thought he was going to cry. "Professor Quirrell, if you do what you say, it will make me angry. I really don't want to be angry today—"

"The point is not to avoid anger," said Professor Quirrell, looking serious. "Anger is normal. What you need to learn is that even when you are angry, you have to admit defeat. Or at least pretend to admit defeat, so that you can plan your revenge well. Like I did with Mr. Gower, unless, of course, one of you Anyone who really thinks he's better than I—”

"I'm not!" Mr. Gore yelled from his seat, his voice flustered. "I know you didn't really lose! Please don't plan revenge on me!"

Harry felt a sickness in his stomach.Professor Quirrell is unaware of his mysterious dark side. "Professor, we really have to talk after class—"

"We will," said Professor Quirrell, in a tone of commitment. "After you learn how to admit defeat." He looked serious. "In this process, I will of course rule out anything that can hurt you, or even cause you great pain. The pain will come from the difficulty of admitting defeat itself, rather than fighting back and expanding the war until victory."

Harry's breathing became short, panicked gasps.He was even more scared than when he left the Potions classroom. "Professor Quirrell," he tried, "I don't want you to be expelled for—"

"I won't," said Professor Quirrell, "as long as you tell them afterward that it was necessary. I'm sure you will." For a moment, Professor Quirrell's voice became very cold. "Believe me, they've put up with worse behavior in the hallways. This case is only special in that it happened in the classroom."

"Professor Quirrell," Harry murmured, but he thought his voice was still echoing everywhere, "do you really believe that if I pass this level, I might hurt someone else?"

"Yes," said Professor Quirrell simply.

"Then," Harry felt sick, "I do."

Professor Quirrell turned to Slytherin. "So...with your professors' permission, and with the fact that Snape won't be blamed for what you did...would any of you be willing to show the Boy Who Lived your strength? Push him, put He fell to the ground and listened to him begging for mercy?"

Five hands went up.

"Those who raised their hands, you are all real idiots. Don't you understand the words pretending to throw in the towel? If Harry Potter becomes the next Dark Lord, he will hunt you down after graduation until you die. "

The five hands immediately retracted to their respective desktops.

"I won't," Harry said, his voice getting weaker. "I swear I will never take revenge on those who helped me learn to throw in the towel. Professor Quirrell...can you please...stop?"

Professor Quirrell sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter. I found that what I just said to them was just as annoying to you whether you wanted to be the Dark Lord or not. But those children also have important survival lessons to learn. You accept that I will give you One point for Quirrell as my apology?"

"Two points," said Harry.

There was a burst of surprised laughter in the classroom, which slightly eased the tense atmosphere.

"A deal," said Professor Quirrell.

"Then when I graduate, I'm going to hunt you down all the way and tickle you."

There was more laughter, although Professor Quirrell wasn't laughing