Harry Potter and the Way of Reason

Minerva glanced up at the clock: gold hands and silver numerals, the hands beating on the clock face.Clocks were invented by Muggles, and before they were invented, wizards couldn't be bothered to keep accurate time.When Hogwarts was founded, classroom hours were announced by bells controlled by hourglasses.It was one of those truths that the pure-bloods didn't want to accept, so Minerva knew about it.

She had achieved an AWR in Muggle Studies - which now seems to be a mark of shame, given how little she knew.When she was young - and even then, she sensed, the subject was tricky: it was taught by pure-blood wizards, supposedly because Muggle-borns couldn't grasp that wizard-borns needed to be told stuff, and the real reason was because the Council didn't approve of Muggles at all.But when she was 17, good grades were all that mattered to her, and the memory made her sad...

If Harry Potter and Voldemort had fought this war with Muggle weapons, there would be nothing but a sea of ​​flames left in the world!

She couldn't imagine it, and the reason she couldn't imagine it was because she couldn't imagine Harry fighting You-Know-Who.

She had faced the Dark Lord four times, and survived each time: three times with Albus covering her, and one time with Moody at her side.She thought of the disfigured, snake-like face, with its tiny green scales and glowing red eyes, and the high-pitched hiss of laughter, in which nothing but cruelty and There is nothing but pain: a pure and complete monster.

She could easily picture Harry Potter in her mind, too—a young boy with a bright expression, sometimes serious about the absurd and sometimes absurd about serious.

The thought of these two men raising their wands against each other was too painful to imagine.

They don't have the power, absolutely no power, to put all this on an 11-year-old kid.She knew what the headmaster had decided for him on this day, because she had been told to make arrangements; at her age, she would have raged, screamed, cried, grieved for weeks, and then... …

He was no ordinary first year, Albus had said so, he was marked as equal by the Dark Lord, and he had powers the Dark Lord didn't know about.

From Sybill Trelawney's throat a deep, powerful, hollow and terrifying voice, the true original prophecy echoed in her mind again.She had a feeling that the meaning of the prophecy was not what the headmaster thought, but the difference could not be expressed in words.

Even so, the point still seemed to be true: If there was an 11-year-old on this planet who could take on the load, it was on her way to her office.And if she said something like "poor Harry" to his face... well, he wouldn't be happy.

Now I have to figure out how to kill an immortal dark wizard, Harry said so the day he first found out about it, if only you would have told me before we started shopping...

She'd been Head of Gryffindor for so long, and seen so many friends die, that she knew that for some people, you just couldn't stop them from being heroes.

There was a knock on the door, and Professor McGonagall said, "Come in."

When Harry came in, the expression on his face was still as cold and watchful as when she had seen him at Maryville; she suddenly wondered if he had been wearing the same mask and maintaining the same self all day long .

The little boy sat in the chair in front of her desk and said, "So is it time to tell me what happened?" The words were spoken calmly, without the sharpness that his expression should have conveyed.

Professor McGonagall couldn't help himself, looked up in surprise, and said, "Did the Headmaster tell you nothing, Mr. Potter?"

The boy shook his head. "Just saying he was warned that I might be in danger, but I'm safe now."

Minerva had a hard time meeting his eyes.How could they do this to him, how could they throw such a thing to an 11 year old, this war, this fate, this prophecy...they don't even trust him...

She forced herself to look Harry squarely in the face, and found those green eyes looking calmly at her.

"Professor McGonagall?" the boy asked softly.

"Mr. Potter," said Professor McGonagall, "I'm afraid it's not appropriate for me to explain, but if the headmaster doesn't tell you anything after this incident, you can come back to me and I'll help you yell at him."

The boy's eyes widened, and a bit of the real Harry peeked through the crack before the grim mask snapped back into place.

"Anyway," Professor McGonagall said quickly, "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Potter, but I have to ask you to use the time converter to go back to three o'clock exactly six hours ago, and then convey it to Free Professor Wei the following message: Silver Flowers on Trees[1]. Ask the professor to note down the time you gave him this message. Afterwards, the principal would like you to see him at your convenience."

pause.

Then the boy said, "So, I'm allegedly abusing my Time-Turner?"

"I'm not the one who suspects you!" Professor McGonagall hurriedly said, "I'm really sorry for the inconvenience caused, Mr. Potter."

There was another pause, and then the little boy shrugged. "It's going to mess with my sleep schedule, but I guess there's nothing I can do about it. Please let the house-elves know that if I ask for an early breakfast — like tomorrow at three o'clock in the morning — I'll have it."

"Of course, Mr. Potter," she said, "thank you for your understanding."

The boy rose from his chair, gave her a nod, and slipped out the door, one hand already in his shirt where the Time-Turner had been; she almost said "Harry!", but she I don't know what to say after calling out.

So she waited, looking at the clock.

How long would she have to wait for Harry to go back in time?

Actually, she didn't need to wait; if he'd done his job, then this had already happened...

Minerva later learned that she was procrastinating because she was anxious, and the thought made her sad.Mischief, yes, unspeakable, unbelievable mischief, about as cautious and prescient as a falling rock - she wondered how the boy tricked the hat into not sorting him into Gryffindor, where he obviously belonged — but he wouldn't do anything dark or harmful, ever.Beneath the mischievous surface, his kindness was as deep and real as the Weasley twins, though not even the Cruciatus Curse could get her to say those words out loud.

"Surveillance," she said, and then, "go to Professor Flitwick, ask these words, and bring back his answer: 'Has Mr Potter brought you my message, and what is it, you When did you receive it?'”

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An hour earlier, after donning the Invisibility Cloak and using up the last remaining turn of the Time-Turner, Harry had slipped the hourglass back on his shirt.

Then he set off for the Slytherin dungeons, striding as fast as his invisible legs could go, but no running.Fortunately, the vice-principal's office already belongs to a relatively low floor in Hogwarts...

After going down a few flights of stairs - he jumped two at a time, but not three - Harry stopped at the corner of the corridor.Turning around the last corner is the entrance to the Slytherin bedroom.

Harry took a piece of parchment (not ordinary paper) from his pocket, took out the shorthand quill (not ordinary pen), and told the quill, "Write these letters as I say: ZPGBSY, SPACE, FVYIREBAGURGERR.[ 2]"

There are two kinds of codes in cryptography, one is used to prevent your brother from peeking at your information, and the other is used to prevent the government from reading your information. He used the first one, but it is better than not at all.In theory, no one should ever see this message anyway; but if they did, they wouldn't remember anything interesting unless they learned cryptography first.

Then Harry put the parchment inside the parchment envelope, and melted a bit of green wax with his wand to seal the envelope.

Of course, in principle, Harry could have done all this a few hours ago, but for some reason, it seemed a little less "fucking around with time" to wait until he heard the information from Professor McGonagall himself.

Then Harry slipped the envelope into another envelope, which already contained a piece of paper with another instruction on it, and five Sickles.

He closed the envelope (the name was written on the outside), sealed it with more green wax, and glued the last silver Sickle to the green wax.

Harry then sealed the envelope in the last envelope, with a big name on it: "Merry Taverton".

Then Harry leaned out around the corner and glanced at a grimacing portrait, which was the entrance to the Slytherin dorms; Harry didn't want the portrait to remember an invisible invisible man, so he used the Levitation Charm, causing the letter to float towards the The frowning man, then tapped him with the letter.

The frowning man looked down at the envelope, peering carefully through the monocle, then sighed, turned his face into the Slytherin dormitory, and yelled, "There's a letter for Merry Taffington!"

The envelope then fell to the floor.

A moment later, the portrait door opened, and Merry snatched the envelope from the floor.

She would open the envelope and find a Sickle and an envelope addressed to a fourth-grader named Margaret Bulstrode.

(Slytherins do this kind of thing all the time, and a Sickle would definitely be considered a rush.)

Margaret would open her own envelope and find five Sickles inside and an envelope that needed to be placed in an abandoned classroom...

...after she used the time-turner to travel back five hours...

... There she would find five more silver Sickles waiting for her, if she went fast enough.

And Harry, who was invisible, would wait in that classroom from three in the afternoon until 03:30, just in case someone tried to do the most obvious test.

Well, at least it was obvious to Professor Quirrell anyway.

It's also obvious to Professor Quirrell that (a) Margaret Bulstrode has a Time-Turner, and (b) she's not very disciplined about using a Time-Turner, say, in Everyone else heard "before" telling her sister some really good gossip.

Harry strode away from the portrait door, still invisible, a part of the tension relaxing.For some reason, his mind was still worrying about the plan, even though he knew it had worked.Now it's just a matter of confronting Dumbledore, and then his day is over...he'll be at the headmaster's gargoyle at nine at night, because eight at night looks suspicious.That way he can claim that he just misunderstood what Professor McGonagall meant by "after"...

Thinking of Professor McGonagall made Harry's heart ache again.

So Harry sank deeper into the dark side, put a calm look on his face, not a trace of fatigue, and walked on.

What is owed always has to be paid off, but sometimes you have to borrow everything you can borrow today and pay it off tomorrow.

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Even Harry's dark side felt exhausted when the spiral staircase sent him to the huge oak door, the final entrance to Dumbledore's office; but because Harry had now legally missed With four hours of natural sleep time, it's safe to expose some exhaustion—physical exhaustion, if not mental exhaustion.

The oak door opened.

Harry's eyes had already focused in the direction of the huge desk, looking towards the throne behind it; so it took him a moment to realize that the throne was empty and that there was nothing on the desk but a leather bound book; so Harry looked away and saw the wizard standing beside his delicate instruments, mysterious and unknown instruments playing their own melodies.The Fawkes and the Sorting Hat each occupied a high place, and bright and cheerful flames crackled in the corner - there was a fire there that Harry hadn't noticed before, and there were the two umbrellas and the three red slippers on his left foot.Everything was in its place, as it always was, except for the old wizard himself - standing tall and robed in the most formal black.Seeing the robes on the man was a visual hit, like Harry seeing his father in a business suit.

Albus Dumbledore appears very old and sad.

"Hello, Harry," said the old wizard.

The other self that was maintained like an Occlumency barrier, an innocent Harry who had no idea what happened, nodded coldly, and said, "Principal, I think you have already learned from Vice-Principal McGonagall Heard replies there, so, if it's up to you, I would very much like to know what happened."

"Yes," said the old wizard, "it's about time, Harry Potter." His back straightened only a little, because he was already standing quite straight; Make the wizard look a foot taller, he doesn't look younger, but stronger, more awesome, but not dangerous, his power gathered around him like a hood.Then he said in a clear voice: "From today, the war between you and Voldemort begins."

"Huh?" said Harry, who knew nothing on the outside, while something on the inside, watching, was thinking the same thing, only with more profanity.

"Bellatrix Black was brought out of Azkaban, she escaped from the inescapable prison," said the old wizard, "a feat so characteristic of Voldemort, as I have seen She is his most trusted servant, one of the three essentials he needs to bring the dead back to life in a new body. The enemy you defeated once ten years ago is back, just as prophesied."

Neither Harry could think of what to say, at least not for a few seconds before the old wizard spoke again.

"You don't need to change anything yet," said the old wizard, "I have begun to reconvene the Order of the Phoenix for you, and I have warned the few souls who understand and should understand: Amelia Bones, Allah Stowe Moody, Barty Crouch, and a few others. About the prophecy—yes, there was a prophecy—I didn't tell them, but they knew Voldemort was back, and they knew you would Play a vital role. Me and them will fight this battle for you in the early days of the war, while at Hogwarts, you will become stronger and perhaps wiser." The old wizard raised his hand, It's like begging. "So now, there is only one change for you, and I beg you to understand the necessity of this change. Do you recognize the book on my desk, Harry?"

The inner Harry screamed and banged his head against the imaginary wall, while the outer Harry turned and stared at the—

There was a long pause.

Then Harry said, "This is The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien."

"You can make out quotes from the book," said Dumbledore, his eyes intent, "so I assume you remember the contents of the book clearly. Correct me if I'm mistaken."

Harry just stared at him.

"What this book describes is not a real wizarding war," said Dumbledore, "and it is important to understand that. John Tolkien never fought Voldemort. Your war will not be like the one you read about. Books are the same. Real life is not the same as stories. Do you understand, Harry?"

Harry nodded slowly, slowly in the affirmative; then shook his head in the negative.

"Specifically," said Dumbledore, "in the first book, Gandalf did one very stupid thing. As Tolkien's wizard, he made many mistakes; Forgive me. The mistake is this: When Gandalf first suspected that the One Ring was in Frodo's hands, he should have transferred Frodo to Rivendell at once, if only for a moment. If the old wizard's suspicions Wrong, he may be embarrassed. He may find it awkward to direct Frodo in this way, and cause Frodo many inconveniences, and many plans and diversions to be put aside. But a little embarrassment, a little embarrassment, A little embarrassment, a little inconvenience, and nothing compared to the Nine Rings sweeping the Shire while you're reading an ancient scroll in Minas Tiris, taking the ring and making you lose the whole war. It will be Frodo; all Middle-earth will be enslaved. If it's more than a story, Harry, they'll lose their war. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Uh..." said Harry, "don't quite get it..." Whenever Dumbledore was like this, it made it hard for him to be cool properly; his dark side had a hard time dealing with the oddity.

"Then I will speak out," said the old wizard.His voice was harsh and his eyes were sad. "Frodo should have been transferred to Rivendell by Gandalf himself - Frodo should never have left Rivendell unprotected. There should have been no Night of Horror at Bree, there should have been no Tombs Gang, there shouldn't have been Frodo's wounds in Stormtop either, because of Gandalf's stupidity, any one of these times could have cost them the whole war! Do you understand now what I'm saying to you , the son of Mike and Petunia?"

So Harry, who knew nothing, understood.

So the ignorant Harry realized that this was the smart, wise, wise, rational, correct thing to do.

So the ignorant Harry said only what an innocent Harry would have said, while silent bystanders screamed in confusion and pain.

"You're saying," said Harry, his voice trembling, inner emotion burning through his apparent calm, "that I can't go home and spend Easter with my parents."

"You'll see them again," said the old wizard quickly, "and I'll beg them to come and keep you here, and I'll be courteous in every way during their visits. But you can't at Easter Go home, Harry. You can't go home during the summer. You can't go to Diagon Alley for lunch even with Professor Quirrell watching over you. Your blood is the second thing Voldemort needs to bring back to life and regain his former power Necessities. So without a reason of life and death and strong guardians - strong enough to fend off any attack before you reach safety - you must never leave the bounds of Hogwarts again."

Fluid started to appear in the corner of Harry's eye. "Is this a request?" he said in a trembling voice, "or an order?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," said the old wizard gently, "I hope your parents will understand the necessity; but if they don't... I'm afraid they have no recourse; no matter how unjust, never They are not legally your guardians. I'm sorry, Harry, and I'll understand if you've treated me with contempt, but this has to happen."

Harry turned to look at the door, he couldn't look at Dumbledore anymore, he couldn't believe his face.

It's your own price, Hufflepuff said in his mind, as well as the price you impose on others.Does that change your perspective on the whole affair, as Professor Quirrell thinks it does?

Innocent Harry's mask automatically said what he would say: "Are my parents in danger? Do they need to be moved here?"

"No," said the old wizard's voice, "I don't think so. The Death Eaters learned at the end of the last war that they should not attack the family of the Order of the Phoenix. Even if Voldemort is not now acting with his former companions, he still is." Knowing that I'm making the decision at the moment, and he knows I'm not going to give him anything because he's threatening your family. I've taught him that I'm not going to give in because of threats, so he's not going to try."

So Harry turned to see the old wizard's impassive face, just as his voice changed, and Dumbledore's blue eyes behind the glasses became hard as steel, not a good match for the man, but a good match for the formal suit. black robe.

"So, is that all?" said Harry in a trembling voice.Then he'll think about it, then he'll come up with some clever countermeasures, and then he'll ask Professor Quirrell if there's anything he can do to convince the Headmaster he's wrong.At this point, all of Harry's attention was on maintaining his mask.

"Voldemort used Muggle items in his escape from Azkaban," said the old wizard. "He's watching and learning from you, Harry Potter. Soon there will be a man named Arthur Weasley's men decree that the use of all Muggle items is prohibited in the Defense Professor's battle. In the future, when you have a good idea, you know it yourself."

This doesn't seem that important in comparison.Harry just nodded, and then said again, "Are you done?"

pause.

"Please," whispered the old wizard, "I have no right to ask your pardon, Harry James Potter-Evans-Verys, but please, at least say you understand why." There was liquid in the wizard's eyes.

"I understand," said the voice of the surface Harry, and the surface Harry did understand, "I mean... I thought about it anyway... wondering if I could let you and my parents make me like the orphans Spend the summer at Hogwarts so I can read in the library, Hogwarts is more fun anyway..."

A lump escaped Albus Dumbledore's throat.

Harry turned to the door again.He didn't make it out unscathed, but at least he was able to escape.

He took a step forward.

His hand reached for the doorknob.

A shrill cry pierced the air—

As if in slow motion, when Harry turned around, he saw the phoenix rising into the air, flying towards him.

The real Harry - the Harry who knew his guilt - panicked, he didn't think, didn't expect, he was ready to face Dumbledore, but he forgot about Fawkes -

Wings, wings, wings, the wings of the phoenix waved three times, like a flame that was ignited and extinguished. The whole process seemed too slow. During this period, Fox passed through the mysterious instruments and headed towards Harry. fly.

The red-gold bird circled before him, its wings fluttering softly, waving in the air like candle flames.

"What's the matter, Fox?" said the disguised Harry suspiciously, meeting Phoenix's eyes like he would do innocently.And the real Harry felt very bad, just like when Professor McGonagall expressed her trust in him, he thought, have I become a bad person today, Fox?I don't think I'm a bad person...do you hate me now?If I become what the Phoenix hates, maybe I should give up now, give up everything now, and confess—

Fawkes screamed, the most terrible cry Harry had ever heard, and the scream shook all the instruments and woke up all the sleeping portraits.

Like butter sliced ​​by an incandescent sword, the sound shattered all of Harry's defenses, all his layers collapsed, bursting like a balloon pricked by a needle, before he remembered the most important In that instant, his priorities reshuffled; tears began to well up unchecked from Harry's eyes and down his cheeks, his voice choked and words gushed out of his throat like an eruption of lava— —

"Fawkes," said Harry's voice, "he wanted me to do something for the prisoners of Azkaban—"

"Fawkes, don't do that!" said the old wizard.Dumbledore strode forward and held out a begging hand to the phoenix.The old wizard's voice was almost as desperate as Phoenix's scream just now, "You can't make such a request to him, Fox, he's just a child!"

"You went to Azkaban," Harry whispered, "you took Fawkes, he saw—you saw—you were there, you saw—why didn't you do anything? Why didn't you Let them out?"

When the vibrating instrument stopped, Harry found Fawkes screaming with him as he screamed, and the phoenix flew to Harry's side to face Dumbledore with him, the red-gold head and his own. Heads are on the same level.

"Can you really," whispered the old wizard, "can you really hear the Phoenix's voice so clearly?"

Harry whimpered so hard he could barely speak.All the metal doors he'd passed, the voices he'd heard, the worst memories, the desperate pleadings he'd heard as he walked - all of it burst like flames in his mind Then, all the barriers within him were shattered.Harry wondered if he could really hear Phoenix so clearly, whether he could understand Fawkes without knowing it.All Harry knew was that he had a plausible excuse for saying the things that Professor Quirrell had told him he must never speak of again after today; If only he could hear that clearly. "They're suffering - we have to help them -"

"I can't do it!" cried Dumbledore, "Harry, Fawkes, I can't do it, I can't help it!"

Another high-pitched scream.

"Why can't it be done? Just go in and bring them out!"

The old wizard looked away from the phoenix and looked into Harry's eyes. "Harry, tell Fox for me! Tell him it's not that easy! Phoenixes aren't just animals, but they're animals after all, Harry, they can't understand—"

"I can't understand either," said Harry, his voice shaking, "I can't understand why you're feeding people to dementors! Azkaban isn't a prison, it's a torture chamber! You're tortured people to death !"

"Percival," said the old wizard hoarsely, "Percival Dumbledore, my father, Harry, my own father died in Azkaban! I know, I know it's terrible! But what do you want me to do? Break Azkaban by force? Do you want me to publicly defy the Ministry?"

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There was a pause, and then Harry said in a trembling voice, "Fawkes doesn't know anything about the government, he just wants you to - get the prisoner out - out of the cell - if anyone gets in your way, he'll fight for you - —and—and so will I, Headmaster! I'll follow you and destroy any dementors that come close! We'll worry about the political fallout later, and I bet you and I can get away with— —”

"Harry," whispered the old wizard, "the phoenix doesn't understand why a war is lost when a battle is won." Tears rolled down the old wizard's cheeks and fell into his silver beard, "They only know how to fight. They are kind, but not wise. That's why they choose wizards as their masters."

"Can you take the dementors out of my reach?" Harry's voice was begging now, "fifteen at a time—I think I can do it all at once without hurting myself." destroyed so much—”

The old wizard shook his head. "Losing a dementor is hard enough to deal with - they might give me another one, but never two more - they're considered state property, Harry, in war They'll be used as weapons—"

Then the anger in Harry's heart was ignited, burning like a flame, maybe this anger came from the phoenix standing on his shoulder now, or maybe it came from his own dark side, two angers intertwined in his body, cold And fiery, his guttural voice was strange, "Tell me what the government must do, what those voters in a democracy must do, what the people of this country must do, that I should Decided not to side with them?"

The old wizard stared wide-eyed at the boy with the phoenix on his shoulder. "Harry... it's your own words, or the Defense Professor's—"

"Because there must be a bottom line, right? If it's not Azkaban, where is the bottom line?"

"Harry, listen, please, listen to me! If every wizard declares rebellion against the whole whenever they disagree, they can't live together! There's always something—"

"Azkaban is more than something! Azkaban is evil!"

"Yes, even evil things! Even if there are some evil things, Harry, because wizards are not perfect! Even so, it is better to live in peace than in chaos; if you and I break Azkaban by force, Chaos will begin, don't you understand?" the voice of the old wizard pleaded, "and openly or secretly against the will of those around you, without hating them, without declaring them evil or enemies, is It's possible! I don't think people in this country deserve to be treated like this by you, Harry! Even if it's what some of them deserve - those kids, those students at Hogwarts, many good people among the bad crowd what to do?"

Harry looked to where Fawkes was perched on his shoulder, and the phoenix's eyes looked back at him, its eyes not glowing, but they were burning, red flames in a sea of ​​golden flames.

What do you think, Fox?

"Chirp?" Fox said.

Fox couldn't understand the conversation.

The little boy looked at the old wizard with a hoarse voice, "Or maybe the phoenix is ​​wiser and smarter than us, maybe they are with us, just hope that one day we will listen to them, one day we will understand, one day We'll just take the prisoners out of their cells—"

Harry turned and pushed open the oak door, stepped into the stairwell, and slammed the door behind him.

The stairwell began to spin, Harry began to descend, buried his face in his hands, and began to cry.

It wasn't until he was halfway down that he noticed the difference, noticed the warmth still surrounding him, and realized—

"Fox?" Harry whispered.

—the phoenix was still on his shoulders, crouching there, as he had seen it crouching on Dumbledore's shoulders several times.

Harry looked into those eyes, into the flames of the golden flame.

"You're not going to be my Phoenix now... are you?"

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"Oh," said Harry, his voice trembling a little, "I'm glad you said that, Fox, because I don't think—the Headmaster—I don't think it's his duty—"

Harry stopped and took a breath.

"I don't think he deserves it Fox, he's trying to do the right thing..."

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"But you're mad at him and trying to make your point. I get it."

The phoenix nestled its head on Harry's shoulder, and the gargoyle moved smoothly aside to let Harry pass.He was back in the halls of Hogwarts.

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