Harry Potter and the Way of Reason

Fight Death Eaters with great strength and brilliant strategy.People started comparing him to the next Dumbledore, thinking he might become Minister for Magic after defeating the Dark Lord.He was absent from a crucial Wizengamot vote on July 1973, [-], and he has not been heard from since.We thought he was killed by You-Know-Who.It was a very heavy blow to everyone, and from that day on things went from bad to worse. The old witch's eyes showed doubts, "I once mourned for you.What happened? "

The defense professor's shoulders moved slightly, a small shrug. "You're making so many assumptions," said the Defense Professor softly. "If it were me, I'd think the man died years ago. But if he's still alive anyway—then he obviously doesn't want this to happen." It's been made public, and there's good reason to keep silent. Looks like he's been of some help to you." The Defense Professor's lips curled into a cynical smile. "But I am no longer surprised that gratitude is fleeting. Do you want more from him?"

The old witch leaned back in the Auror watch chair, looking rather startled, maybe even hurt. "No—" she said after a while.She tapped her fingers on the leather folder; she looked a little nervous, if you believed that Amelia Bones could be nervous. "But your family—the old family is not much left—"

"It doesn't matter to this country whether there are eight or seven of the old families left."

The old witch sighed. "What does Dumbledore think?"

The man in the holding cell shook his head. "He didn't know who I was and promised not to investigate."

The old witch raised her eyebrows. "And how did he introduce you to the Hogwarts surveillance system?"

A faint smile. "The Headmaster drew a circle and told Hogwarts that the person standing in the circle is the Defense Professor. Speaking of which—" His voice was lower and more monotonous, "I'm missing class, Burns Director."

"Sometimes you seem to - rest, and the way is very special. This is also written in the report. And as time goes by, the frequency of your rest seems to be more and more frequent." The old witch tapped her finger again Knocked on the leather folder. "I don't remember reading about this symptom, but when everyone hears about it, it's natural to imagine... a battle with a dark wizard, the aftereffects of a terrible curse..."

The defense professor remained expressionless.

"Do you need a doctor's help?" asked Amelia Bones.Her mask slipped off, and the pain was clearly visible in her eyes, "Is there anything we can do for you?"

"I agreed to teach Defense at Hogwarts," the man in the cell replied flatly, "please draw your own conclusions, ma'am. I am missing classes, and there are not many classes left. I hope Back to Hogwarts, now."

——————————————————————————————

By the time Hermione woke up for the third time (actually, she thought she had just closed her eyes a little), the sun had set even further westward, almost completely down.She felt a little more alive and, strangely, more exhausted at the same time.This time it was Professor Flitwick standing beside her bed shaking her shoulders, a tray of steaming food floating beside her.For some reason, she thought Harry Potter would be at her bedside, but he wasn't.Is she dreaming?She doesn't remember having a dream.

It turned out (according to Professor Flitwick) that Hermione missed dinner in the Great Hall and was woken up to eat.Then she could go back to Ravenclaw's dormitory and sleep in her own bed.

She ate in silence.A part of her wanted to ask Professor Flitwick if he thought someone had cast a false memory on her, or if she had tried to murder Draco Malfoy of her own volition—

— as she remembered —

—but mostly she was afraid of finding out the truth.Harry Potter and his books would say that the fear of finding out the truth was an alarm; but her brain was tired and hurt, and she didn't have the strength to force it.

When she and Professor Flitwick left the ward, they found Harry Potter sitting cross-legged outside the door, quietly reading a book on psychology.

"I'll take her back," said the Boy Who Lived. "Professor McGonagall says it's all right."

Professor Flitwick seemed to accept it, gave the two of them a stern look, and left.She couldn't figure out what that stern look meant, except to stop murdering other students.

Professor Flitwick's footsteps gradually receded, and the two of them stood alone outside the door of the ward.

She looked at the green eyes of the Boy Who Lived, his disheveled hair that didn't hide the scar on his forehead; she looked at the face of the Boy Who Lived, who had given up all his money without hesitation, and saved her.She was full of emotions—guilt, shame, embarrassment, and others—but no words.She couldn't say a word.

"By the way," said Harry abruptly, "I went through my psychology books and looked at what they had to say about PTSD. [3] The older books said you should be in Discuss your experience with a counselor right after the fact. Newer studies say they have done experiments and it turns out that talking about it right after the fact only makes things worse. Obviously you should accept your brain's natural response to suppress these memories and not think about them for a while .”

It was so much like the way she and Harry were talking, so normal, that she felt a sudden burning pain in her throat.

We don't have to discuss this.That's more or less what Harry said just now.It feels like cheating, maybe even like lying.Nothing is normal.All mistakes are still horribly wrong, all unsaid things still need to be said...

"Okay," said Hermione, because there was nothing else to say, nothing.

"Sorry, I wasn't there when you woke up," Harry said, and they started walking forward. "Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let me in, so I just waited outside." He shrugged slightly, looking It looked a little sad, "I think I should have stayed in PR to control the scope of the damage, but... To be honest, I have never been very good at that, and I always end up saying hurtful things."

"How bad?" She thought her voice would drop and crack, but it didn't.

"Uh—" Harry hesitated visibly, "You have to understand one thing, Hermione, there were a lot of people speaking up for you at breakfast this morning, but everyone who supported you was—making things up. Yes Draco tried to kill you first, or something. It's Granger vs. Malfoy, the way people see it, it's like a seesaw, and pushing his side up means pushing your side up. I Told them that you were probably all innocent and had your memories altered, but they wouldn't listen, people on both sides took me as a traitor trying to please both sides. Later everyone heard that Draco was taking Veritaserum To testify that he really wanted to help you before the duel - don't look like that, Hermione, you didn't really do anything to him. In short, the current understanding of everyone is that the faction that supports Malfoy is right , and the faction that supports Granger is wrong." Harry sighed softly, "I told them, they will lose face when the truth comes out..."

"How bad?" she asked again.This time her voice was really quieter.

"You remember the Asch herd experiment?" said Harry, turning his head to give her a serious look.

Her mind froze for a few seconds, which startled her, but then she did.In 1951, Solomon Asch took some test subjects and put them into a team of people who were superficially similar to them and seemed to be test subjects, but those people were actually the experimenter's companions.The experimenter made the screen display a standard line segment X, and three other line segments A, B, and C.The experimenter's problem is which line segment has the same length as X.The correct answer is obviously C.And those other "subjects", that is, the experimenter's companions, will one by one say that the length of X is equal to that of B.The real subjects were given the second-to-last answer so that they would not be suspicious of being placed last.The purpose of the test was to see if real subjects would 'conform' to the incorrect answer B, or to the obvious correct answer C.

75% of the subjects "conformed" at least once.One-third of the subjects chose to conform most of the time.Some people have said after the fact that they did think that X was equal in length to B.And this was when the subjects didn't know their peers.The herd effect is even more pronounced if you place subjects among people with similar backgrounds to them, such as a subject in a wheelchair among people who also use wheelchairs...

Hermione felt a nausea, and she guessed the direction of this matter. "I remember," she whispered.

"You know, I did anti-herd training for the soldiers of the Legion of Chaos. I had every soldier stand in the middle and say, 'Two plus two equals four!' or 'The grass is green!' while everyone else in the Legion of Chaos Call them idiots, or sneer at them - Alan Flint is very good at sneering - or just look at them inexplicably, and walk away. But you have to remember that only Chaos soldiers have this kind of training. The rest of Hogwarts don't even know what conformity means."

"Harry!" her voice was shaking, "how bad is it?"

Harry shrugged again, looking sad. "Everyone in the second year and above, because they don't know you. All the dragon fighters. And of course, all the Slytherins. Well, and most of the rest of Magical Britain, I guess. You remember , Lucius Malfoy controls the Daily Prophet."

"Everyone?" she whispered.Her extremities began to feel cold, as if she had just climbed out of a cold swimming pool.

"What people really believe feels less like belief than the true state of the world. You and I stand in a little private bubble in this universe where Hermione Granger's memory has been altered .In everyone else's world, Hermione Granger attempted to murder Draco Malfoy. If Ernie MacMillan—”

She didn't even breathe.Captain McMillan—

"—if he thinks that he can no longer be your friend because of moral considerations, then, within the scope of his understanding, in the world he thinks, he is doing the right thing." Harry's eyes were very serious, "Hermione, you've told me so many times that I look down on people. But if I expect too much of them—if I expect people to get things right—then I'll really hate them. Put idealism to rest. Putting it aside, Hogwarts students really don't know enough about cognitive science to take responsibility for their own thinking. They're crazy, and it's not their fault." Harry's voice was surprisingly gentle, almost like A grown-up, "I know this is going to be harder for you than it is for me. But remember, in the end the real bad guys will be caught, the truth will come out, and all the people who are confident about their mistakes will eventually be embarrassed."

"What if the real bad guy never gets caught?" she said in a trembling voice.

...or what if it was really me?

"Then you leave Hogwarts and go to Salem Wizarding Academy in America."

"Leaving Hogwarts?" She had never considered the possibility, except as a sort of ultimate punishment.

"I... Hermione, I think you should probably do it anyway. Hogwarts is not a castle, it's a walled madhouse. You do have other options."

"I'm going to..." she stammered, "I need to... think about..."

Harry nodded. "At least after the headmaster's speech at dinner today, no one will cast hexes on you anymore. Oh, and, Ron Weasley came to see me, and he said very seriously that if I beat him When I see you, please let me tell you that he is sorry for having bad thoughts about you before, and he will never speak ill of you again in the future."

"Ron believes I'm innocent?" Hermione asked.

"Uh...he doesn't think you're innocent..."

——————————————————————————————

When they entered the Ravenclaw common room, the room fell silent.

stare at them.

stare at her.

(She had dreamed of this in her nightmares.)

Then, one by one, everyone looked away.

Penelope Clearwater, the fifth-year prefect in charge of the first-year students, slowly and deliberately looked away, turning his face in the other direction.

Sue Lee, Lisa Turpin, and Michael Kerner sat at a table together, each of whom had asked her about her homework before, and now all looked away, and when she looked at them, they seemed suddenly very nervous.

A third-year witch named Latissa Randall, whom SPHEW had saved twice from Slytherin bullies, quickly bowed her head to her desk and resumed her homework.

Mandy Brocklehurst looked away.

At that point, Hermione didn't cry, but that was only because she had expected it, had rehearsed the scene over and over in her head.At least no one was screaming at her, pushing her, or casting jinxes on her.They just looked away—

Hermione went straight up the stairs and walked towards the first-year girls' dormitory. (She didn't see Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein looking at her, only they turned their heads to watch her go.) Behind her, she heard Harry Potter speaking in a very calm voice. He said in a tone, "I tell you, the truth will always come to light. Since you are so convinced that she is guilty, may I ask you to sign this piece of paper, saying that if she is found innocent in the future, she can tell you 'I told you earlier', and use this matter as a handle for your whole life? Come here, one by one, don't be so cowardly, if you are really sure, you don't have to be afraid to make this bet—"

It didn't occur to her until she was halfway up the stairs that there would be other girls in the dormitory.

——————————————————————————————

The stars hadn't come out yet, and only the brightest one or two could be seen in the purple glow of the sky, but the sun had completely set.

Hermione's hands were clutching the rough stone balustrade of a small balcony she'd slipped down the stairs, as she realized—

—she couldn’t go back to bed—

— "You'll never come home again" echoed in her head. [4]

She stared at the empty playground, the fading sun, and the newly sprouted grass in the distance below.

Tired, she's so tired, she can't think now, she needs sleep.Professor Flitwick told her that she needed sleep, and gave her another potion at supper.Maybe that's how the wizarding world heals the horrific trauma of innocent little girls by letting them sleep in afterward.

She should have gone back to her room to sleep, but she was afraid to go somewhere with people.Afraid of the way they look at her, afraid of them looking away.

Fragments of thought were chasing each other, but the brain was too tired to think deeply or connect them, and gradually night fell completely.

why--

Why did this happen—

Everything was fine a week ago—

why--

There was a creak from behind her, and the door opened.

She turned to look.

Professor Quirrell leaned against the door she had just passed, his silhouette illuminated from behind by the Hogwarts torch, as if cut out of cardboard, pasted on the open door.She could not see his expression, though the door behind him was bright; his eyes, his face, all she could see were hidden in the shadow of night.

Hogwarts defense professor, No.1 of all suspects.She hadn't realized until this moment that she, too, had a list of suspects.

The man stood in the doorway, saying nothing; she could not see her eyes.What is he doing here—

"Are you here to kill me?" said Hermione Granger.

Professor Quirrell tilted his head when he heard this.

Then Professor Quirrell came towards her, the dark silhouette slowly and deliberately raising a hand, as if to push her off the Ravenclaw tower—

"Passed out!"

The rush of adrenaline flooded everything, she pulled out her wand without thinking, the spell came out of her lips, the stun spell shot out of her wand like a rocket, and—

——Professor Quirrell raised his hand, the speed of the rocket slowed down, stopped, and struggled in the air, as if it was still trying to fly forward, making a slight hissing sound.

The red light illuminated Professor Quirrell's face for the first time, and a strangely fond smile appeared.

"That's more or less," said Professor Quirrell. "Miss Granger, you're still my defense student. As such, if you think I'm a threat, I don't want you to just watch sadly. Me, ask me if I'm here to kill you. Deduct you two Quirrell points."

She was speechless.

With a flick of the defense professor's finger, the stun rocket flying in the air flew away, and the curse flew over her head, blending into the vast night in the distance, and they stood in the darkness again.Then Professor Quirrell came out of the door, which closed behind him; a soft white glow lit up around them, and she saw his face again, still smiling with that strange fondness.

"You—what are you doing here?"

Professor Quirrell took a few steps forward, walked to the high part of the balcony, put his arms on the stone, leaned against it tightly, and looked up at the night outside.

"I came here immediately after I was released by the Auror and reported to the principal," Professor Quirrell said in a quiet voice, "because I am your teacher and you are my student, and I have a duty to you." responsibility."

That's when Hermione understood; she remembered what Professor Quirrell had told Harry in his second Defense class of the year, teaching him to control his anger.She felt a pang of shame hit her chest.After a while, her knowledge of the matter finally overcame the shame, and she forced herself to say—

"I -" said Hermione, "Harry thinks - thinks I'm not - angry, I mean -"

"I've heard," said Professor Quirrell dryly.He shook his head, as if speaking to the stars. "Lucky for that boy, I've gone from annoyance at his self-destructive tendencies to pure curiosity about what he's going to do next. But I agree with Mr Porter about the facts. A planned murder that escaped Hogwarts' monitoring system and the vigilant eyes of the Headmaster. In such a well-thought-out murder, it is natural that innocent people will be placed in the position of scapegoat." A brief twisted smile flitted across the defense lips of the art professor, but he didn't look at her, "As for your own theory—I consider myself a talented teacher, but even I can't teach such a cruel killing intent to someone like Hermione A recalcitrant and untalented student like Granger."

What did part of her brain say indignantly?But not far enough to reach her lips.

"No..." said Professor Quirrell, "that's not why I'm here. You don't hide your dislike for me at all, Miss Granger. I want to thank you for your frankness, because I would rather have real hatred than No false love. But you are still my student, and I have a word for you, if you will listen."

Hermione watched him, still fighting off residual adrenaline.The Defense Professor seemed to be looking up at the night sky, where the stars were gradually becoming more visible.

"Once upon a time, I was meant to be a hero," said Professor Quirrell, still looking up at the night sky. "Can you believe it, Miss Granger?"

"No."

"Thank you again, Miss Granger. But anyway, it is true. Long ago, before you and Harry Potter were born, there was a man who was hailed as the savior. The destined heir, Just like the instantly recognizable protagonists in the stories, they wield the twin magic wands of justice and vengeance to fight against terrible enemies." Professor Quirrell chuckled coldly, looking up at the night sky. "You know, Miss Granger, I thought I was pretty cynical at the time, but... well."

In the cold and night, the silence is prolonged.

"To tell you the truth," said Professor Quirrell, looking up at the stars, "I still can't understand it. They should know that their lives depend on this man's success. But they seem to be trying to add unhappiness to his life. In his There are every possible obstacle in the way. I'm not naive, Miss Granger, and I don't expect the establishment to be on my side anytime soon - unless they benefit from it. But their power is also at stake; so I'm so shocked that they backed away so comfortably and put all the burden of responsibility on this man's shoulders. They laughed at his performance and whispered how they would have done better if it was different, but they didn't want to condescend Do it." Professor Quirrell shook his head, seemingly in deep thought, "but the strangest thing is—that dark wizard, this man's terrible enemy—well, the people who serve him can't wait to jump out to complete his task The dark wizard was getting more and more cruel to his followers, and they were following him more and more. People were fighting each other for the chance to serve him, and the man who kept everyone alive was given whatever he wanted I can't understand, Miss Granger." Professor Quirrell's face was hidden in the shadows as he looked up. "Is it because, when this person bears the curse of action, other people are removed from the obligation to act? Is it because of this, so those people hinder his war with the dark wizard at will, even if the dark wizard Would turn them all into slaves? The truth is, it is not cynicism to believe that people act in their own interest, but idealism in its purest form; and in real life people do not live up to such high standards. So, this man later realizes Even if he fights the dark wizard alone, the result is better than fighting with such followers."

"So—" Hermione's voice sounded strange in the night, "you left your friends, left them in a safe place, and went to fight that dark wizard alone?"

"Ah, no," said Professor Quirrell, "I stopped trying to be a hero, and went to something more pleasant."

"What?" Hermione blurted out, "That sucks too!"

The Defense Professor turned his head from the direction of the night sky and looked down at her; by the corridor light, she could see that he was smiling—or at least half of his face was smiling. "Miss Granger, are you going to tell me I'm a bad person? Well, maybe I am. But aren't people worse who never try to be a hero? If I'm like them and don't Wouldn't your opinion of me be better if I had made any effort?"

Hermione opened her mouth, and found herself speechless again.It's wrong to give up halfway as a hero, you can't do that, but she doesn't want to say that people who aren't heroes are worthless, that's Quirrell's thinking...

The smile, or half of it, was gone. "Don't be a fool," said the Defense Professor quietly, "to think that having positioned yourself as a heroine, you can expect any lasting gratitude from those you've protected. Just as you think the man should go on A hero who calls him shit because he's halfway through when a thousand other people never lift a finger. It's your job to fight bullies. That's the tax you have to pay and they'll take you like a prince Tribute, and sneer at you for being late. I bet you've seen how they love you like dust blown away by the wind when it's no longer in their favor to be with you Disappeared……"

The Defense Professor rose slowly from the balcony railing, nearly straight, and turned to face her.

"But you don't have to be a hero, Miss Granger," said Professor Quirrell, "you can give up anytime you want."

this idea...

...has indeed come up more than once in the last two days.

A person can only be who he is by doing the right thing, Headmaster Dumbledore had told her.The problem is that there seem to be two different right things to do.Part of her thinks the right thing to do is keep being a heroine, stay at Hogwarts, she doesn't know what's going on, but heroines don't run away.

But the voice of common sense says that children should never be put in danger, that's for grown-ups; it's the voice of every school poster admonishing everyone not to eat candy from strangers.This is also correct.

Standing on the balcony, Hermione Granger couldn't understand, watching the silhouette of Professor Quirrell and the stars gradually appearing behind him; she couldn't understand how the Defense Professor could look at her with a concerned expression; she couldn't understand There was pain in the Defense Professor's voice; she couldn't understand why he was saying these things to her.

"You don't even like me, Professor," said Hermione.

A faint smile flitted across Professor Quirrell's face. "I suppose I can complain about wasting my precious time and disrupting my defense lessons, and I'm annoyed. But most of all, Miss Granger, you are my student, no matter what I've done before." What other occupations have you engaged in, I think I am a good teacher at Hogwarts, am I not?" Professor Quirrell's eyes suddenly looked very tired, "Then, as your teacher, I suggest you consider other career options .I don't want to see other people make the same mistakes I did."

Hermione swallowed.There was a side of Professor Quirrell she had never seen, or even imagined, and it slowly eroded her old prejudices.

Professor Quirrell looked at her for a moment, then looked away, and continued to look up at the stars.When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. "Someone's murdering you here, Miss Granger, and I can't monitor you the way I monitor Mr Malfoy. The Headmaster forbids me for some good reason he claims. I know, like Hogwarts Easy; for I like it too. But in France old families are not thought of the same way as in England; and I think Beauxbatons will do you no wrong. Whatever else you may fancy of me, I swear, If you let me get you safely to Beauxbatons, I will do my best to get you there."

"I can't just—" said Hermione.

"No, you can, Miss Granger," those pale blue eyes were now looking intently at her, "whatever you wish to do with your life, you can't do it at Hogwarts." Do it, it's impossible now. Even without mentioning all the other threats, this place is ruined for you. Let Harry Potter order you to go to Beauxbatons and live a peaceful life there. If If you stay here, he is your master in Britain's mind and legal sense!"

She hadn't even thought about it, it seemed so insignificant compared to being eaten by a dementor; it used to be important to her in the past, but now it just seemed childish, unimportant, meaningless, so why did she Do you still have a burning sensation in your eyes?

"If this doesn't move you, Miss Granger, please think about it too. Mr. Potter threatened Lucius Malfoy, Albus Dumbledore, and the entire Wizengart just at noon today. Mo, because he can't think rationally when someone threatens to take you away from him. Aren't you afraid of what he's going to do next?"

Makes sense.Makes sense.Very horribly true.

It makes too much sense—

She couldn't describe in words what made her think about it, except it was the intense pressure the Defense Professor was putting on her.

If the Defense Professor had really planned all this - then all the Defense Professor had done was to drive her away so she couldn't interfere with his plans for Harry.

She involuntarily shifted her weight to the other foot, keeping herself away from the defense professor——

"So you think I did it?" said Professor Quirrell.His voice sounded a little sad, which almost stopped her heartbeat. "I don't think I should blame you. After all, I am the defense professor at Hogwarts. But Miss Granger, even if I am your enemy, common sense should still tell you, the sooner you get away from me, the better. You don't Death Curse, so the proper way to deal with it is to disapparate and leave. I don't mind playing your imaginary villain if it makes things clearer. Get out of Hogwarts and leave me with someone who can deal with me I will find a family of good standing to take responsibility for sending you there, and if you do not arrive safely, Mr Potter will know that I am responsible."

"I—" She felt cold, the night air chilling her skin, or maybe her skin chilling the night air. "I need to think about—"

Professor Quirrell shook his head. "No, Miss Granger. It will take me some time to prepare your itinerary, and I have less time left than you may think. The decision may be painful to you, but it should not be ambiguous; The scales are heavy, but not equal. I'll have to know tonight if you're going to leave."

if not--

Was the defense professor warning her on purpose?If she doesn't escape, he will attack again?

Why is this so important, and what exactly is Professor Quirrell trying to do to Harry?

Hermione Granger, I'm going to make an exception not to be cryptic like a mysterious old wizard usually does, but to tell you straight up that if things went wrong around Harry Potter, you can't imagine how things would go. How bad is it.

That's what the most powerful wizard who ever lived told her, when he told her how important it was not to give up being Harry's friend.

Hermione swallowed and swayed slightly where she stood on a stone balcony of an enchanted castle.All of a sudden, the deadly absurdity of the whole thing seemed to come up and grab her by the throat, a 12-year-old girl shouldn't be in danger, shouldn't have to think about these things, mom would tell her to run, and dad Just knowing that she was dealing with this problem would give her a heart attack.

It was then that she knew, as Harry and Dumbledore had warned her, that all her ideas about heroines were wrong.Actually there is no such thing as a hero, it's just a concept in the story.There's just terrible danger, being captured by Aurors, locked up in jail, next to dementors, pain, fear and—

"Miss Granger?"