Harry Potter and the Way of Reason

April [-], [-].

Twelve past seven in the afternoon.

lunch time.

Harry walked towards the long Gryffindor table with a murderous look, and saw at a glance that today's lunch was Brin and Ruper Meatballs[2], and Harry heard through the topic of the table: it was about Quidditch ; this auditory environment is worse than the noise made by a rusty chainsaw, but better than the continuous nonsense about Hermione on the Ravenclaw long table.Gryffindor House was at least less sympathetic to Draco Malfoy, and politically motivated to prefer that some unfortunate fact be simply forgotten; and if that wasn't a good reason to shut up, at least they weren't talking about it.Dean, Seamus, and Lavender were all on vacation, but there were some left behind...

"What was the mess at the guest table just now?" Harry asked the Weasley twins, Aggregates of Consciousness, serving himself a meal. "They seemed to be finishing it when I came in."

"Our beloved but clumsy Professor Trelawney—"

"It seems that the brain slipped, and I poured a whole pot of soup on myself—"

"Not to mention that Mr. Hagrid suffered as well."

It was obvious at a glance that the divination professor was indeed waving his magic wand wildly on the teaching staff, and the half-blood giant was wiping his clothes.The others didn't seem to be paying much attention, not even Professor McGonagall.Professor Flitwick stood on the chair as usual, the headmaster seemed to be absent again (he was away for most of the holiday), and Professor Sprout, Sinista and Victor gathered together for dinner as usual, besides--

"You know that," said Harry, turning his head to the vision of a clear blue sky on the ceiling, "it still gives me the creeps sometimes."

"What is it?" said Fred or George.

The powerful and mysterious Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was 'resting', or rather getting into that god-knows-what-wrong state, his hands fumbling and hesitantly trying to grab a chicken leg on a plate that seemed to be avoiding him.

"Uh, nothing," said Harry, "I'm not used to Hogwarts yet."

Harry continued eating in moderate silence while the Weasleys discussed a strange mind-affecting substance called Chudley Cannon.

"What deep and mysterious thoughts are going on in your head?" said a young-looking witch with short hair, who was very close to him. "I mean, I'm just curious. By the way, my name is Brienne." She stared at him with an expression of the kind that Harry was determined not to deal with until he was a little older.

"Well," said Harry, "you know those extremely simple artificial intelligence programs, like ELIZA[3]? They're programmed to use words to form grammatical English sentences, but they have absolutely no idea what their own words are. What means."

"Certainly," said the Witch, "I have a dozen in my trunk."

"Ah, I'm pretty sure my understanding of girls is about on that level."

There was a sudden silence.

It took Harry a few seconds to realize, no, the whole hall was not looking at him, so Harry turned his head.

The figure who staggered into the Great Hall appeared to be Mr. Filch, Hogwarts' emblematic corridor discipline employee.He and his predatory cat, Mrs. Norris, sometimes run into Harry, infrequently and randomly; usually Harry floats by in his epic Deathly Hallows . (Harry had consulted with the Weasley twins about playing a prank on such a tempting target. Then Fred or George would have whispered that Mr. Filch had never been seen using a wand; considering that It's odd how many spells would be useful for the administrator's job. It also makes you think: Why did Dumbledore give this man a job at Hogwarts? So Harry shut up.)

Right now, Mr. Filch's brown clothes were disheveled and soaked in sweat, his shoulders visibly heaved with his breath, and his inseparable cat was gone.

"There's a troll—" Mr. Filch gasped, "in the dungeon—"

--------------------------

At the guest-of-honour seat, Minerva McGonagall stood up abruptly and pushed back the chair behind her.

"Argus!" she cried, "what's the matter with you?"

Argus Filch staggered in through the huge door, his upper body streaked and blotched with blood, as if someone had spilled steak sauce all over his face. "The troll—gray—twice as tall as I am—it—it—" Argus Filch covered his face with his hands, "it ate Lady Norris—it ate her in one bite." Lost--"

Minerva's alter ego snapped in shock. She didn't like the cat very much, but they were both felines after all.

A commotion began to spread in the Great Hall.Severus got up from his desk, somehow managing to avoid attracting attention.Without saying a word, he strode out of the giant gate.

Of course, Minerva thought, the fourth-floor corridor—this might be a trick—

She secretly entrusted this kind of task to Severus in her heart, pulled out her wand, raised it high, and fired five clusters of purple flames, accompanied by sharp crackling.

Save for Argus' broken sobs, there was a stunned silence.

"It seems that there are dangerous creatures on the run from Hogwarts." She announced to the staff on the staff table, "I ask you to help in the search." Then she turned to the students who were watching blankly, and raised her voice, "Prefect You—take the students of your college back to the dormitory immediately!"

On the Gryffindor table, Percy Weasley jumped up. "Come with me!" he said loudly, "Stay together, first graders! No, don't—" But by this time the other prefects had raised their voices, and a new round of noise had begun.

At this moment, a clear, cold voice sounded under the sudden burst of noise.

"Madam Vice Principal."

She turned around.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor calmly wiped his hands with a napkin and stood up from the staff table. "I meant no offense," said the unidentified Mr. "but you're not an expert on tactics, ma'am. In this case, it might be wiser to—"

"I sincerely apologize, Professor," Professor McGonagall turned and walked towards the giant door. Felius and Pomona had already got up to follow her, and Rubeus Hagrid, the half-blood giant, also stood up, towering over them. middle.To this day, McGonagall has had similar experiences too many times, "The tragic experience has taught me that at this time, it is not appropriate to adopt any advice from the current defense professor. In fact, I think I will go with you to find Trolls are wiser, so that if something unusual happens during this time, you won't be suspected of being the culprit."

Without hesitation, the professor of defense walked to the Gryffindor long table in a smooth manner, and clapped his palms, making a sound like the floor was breaking and collapsing.

"Michelle Morgan of Gryffindor House, the second-in-command of Team Pinnini," said the defense professor calmly in the silence caused by the clapping of hands, "please make a suggestion to your dean."

Michelle Morgan stood on her bench and began to speak; compared to Minerva's memory of her appearance at the beginning of school, the petite witch's tone was much more confident. "Students traveling through the corridors will spread out and cannot be protected. All students should remain in the auditorium, gathered in the center of the hall...not surrounded by tables, trolls can jump directly over the table...Students should be surrounded by seventh graders Born to defend. Only use the people in the army, no matter how good the duel is, other people can’t use it, in case your own people accidentally hurt each other.” Michelle hesitated. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hagrid, but—it's not safe for you to join the search, and you should stay behind with the students. Nor should Professor Trelawney face the troll alone," Michelle said. There was much less apology in the tone for a while, "But if she teams up with Professor Quirrell, they can form a credible and effective combat unit. That's my analysis, Professor."

"Yes, since this was answered on the spot," the defense professor commented, "you will be rewarded with twenty chilo points. But you are still missing a simpler point: home does not mean safety, and trolls are strong enough to Rip the portrait off the doorjamb—"

"That's enough." Minerva said sharply, "Thank you, Miss Morgan." She looked at the crowd watching at the long table, "Students, do as she says." She turned to look back at the teaching staff, "Terr Professor Lilawney, you come to accompany the Defense Professor-"

"Ah," stammered Sybil; the woman paled under the heavy make-up and messy shawl, "I'm afraid—I'm not feeling well today—really, I feel rather weak—"

"You don't need to fight the troll," Minerva said sharply; as always, she was impatient with the woman, "just follow the Defense Professor and don't let him out of your sight for a second You have to be able to testify afterwards that you were with him the entire time." She turned to Ruburt, "Rubeus, I'll leave you here to manage the situation. Keep them safe." The huge man straightened up at that. With his back straightened, the lost expression was swept away, and he nodded proudly to her.

Then Minerva looked at the students and raised her voice: "Anyone who walks out of the auditorium, for whatever reason, will be expelled. There's no question about that. It's not negotiable. Got it?"

The Weasley twins whom she was looking at nodded respectfully.

Without saying another word, she turned and walked towards the door of the auditorium.The other professors followed behind her.

At the far end of the room, a clock hung unnoticed on the wall.The clock shows the time: 12:14 p.m.

————————————————————————

...and he still didn't realize it.

tick.

Harry squinted into the place where the professors had vanished, wondering what the hell was going on and what the situation meant, while the students gathered in a more protective group, waved their wands, and levitated the tables out of the way. place, and Harry still didn't realize it.

tick.

"Shouldn't the professors all be in pairs?" said a senior Gryffindor; Harry didn't know his name, "I mean—the search would be slower, but I think it would be safer— —”

tick.

Someone raised the volume to answer the question, but Harry didn't hear much of it, except that although the trolls were magically resistant, extremely strong, and regenerative, they were too loud, so if Hogg Professor Watts heard them approaching, and had no trouble wrapping them in Vadim's Unbreakable[4] or something.

tick.

And Harry still didn't realize it.

tick.

The noise from the crowd was muffled.They talked to each other in whispers, and looked around, listening for the crash of doors being knocked open, for the sound of angry growls.

tick.

Some students were whispering, wondering what the defense professor had in mind for sneaking in a giant monster, whether Professor McGonagall was angry that he was caught out by the trick, and what was the real purpose of this trick.

tick.

And Harry still hadn't thought of it.He didn't think about it until all the students—perhaps 100 of them—had stood together; the seventh year students with solemn and proud faces, their wands pointed outward, protecting the group of younger students.One suggested counting heads; another sarcastically replied that it might make sense in normal times, but now that almost everyone is on spring break, no one knows how many students should be in the room, let alone if there are any. People are gone.

tick.

That's when Harry started wondering where Hermione had gone.

tick.

Harry looked towards where Ravenclaws were gathered.He couldn't see Hermione, but they were all so crowded together that you couldn't expect to find the younger students among the older crowd.

tick.

Then Harry looked to Hufflepuff, trying to spot Neville.Even though Neville was standing behind a much taller student, Harry's visual processing system managed to spot him almost immediately.Hermione wasn't with Hufflepuff either, at least Harry couldn't find her in the Hufflepuff group - and she was definitely not with Slytherins -

tick.

Harry squeezed his way through the dense crowd, dodging and skirting the older students, once slipping under someone's legs, until he stood in the Ravenclaw crowd, confirming beyond doubt: no, huh Min really wasn't here.

tick.

"Hermione Granger!" Harry called out, "are you there?"

No one answered.

tick.

Somewhere in the back of his mind was a pang of fear, while the rest of his brain was deciding how much to panic.Harry's memories of his first Defense class were very distant and hazy, but he vaguely remembered mentioning that trolls could hunt solitary, unsuspecting prey.

tick.

Another line of thought frantically retrieves all kinds of half-baked ideas; what on earth is he going to do?It wasn't three o'clock in the afternoon, so he couldn't use the time-turner to get back to this present moment.Even if he could sneak out of the house - there must be a way to slip on the cloak and try to distract attention - he would have no idea where Hermione was, and Hogwarts was too big.

tick.

Another part of thinking tries to model possibilities.According to other students, trolls are not silent predators, trolls are very loud—

Hermione didn't know that the sound was coming from a troll, so she'd go and find out what it was coming from.She's a hero, isn't she?

—but Hermione's pouch contained an Invisibility Cloak and a broom.Before, Harry insisted that both Hermione and Neville get these things, and Professor McGonagall told him that they had already given them.That should be enough for Hermione to escape, even if she flies awkwardly.She just needed to be on one roof; it was a fine day, and the sun seemed to be bad for trolls, Harry remembered that, so Hermione must remember it well.Presumably, even if Hermione wanted to prove her ability again, she would not be so stupid as to attack a troll.

tick.

She certainly won't.

tick.

That was never something she would do.

tick.

Then it occurred to Harry that someone had tried to frame Hermione Granger for murder not long ago with a memory charm.This man had done it at Hogwarts without setting off any alarms.This man had arranged for Draco to die slowly, so slowly that Hogwarts Ward didn't call the police for six hours, so that no one could use the Time-Turner to find out the truth.And whoever was smart enough to smuggle a troll through the ancient Hogwarts barrier without drawing the headmaster's attention must have been smart enough to take the obvious measure: magic items for Hermione. cast a curse...

tick.

Part of his mind felt a creeping panic; the perspective shifted, like the Necker cube turned: what the hell was he thinking, because Hermione and Neville got a couple of worthless stupid little things? Things, let them stay at Hogwarts - those little things can't stop people who want to kill them no matter what.

tick.

Another part of his mind was resisting: the possibility was uncertain, complex, and probably less than 50.00 percent likely.It is easy to imagine such a situation: he panicked in front of everyone, and then Hermione came back from the bathroom outside the auditorium; or the troll didn't get close to Hermione at all in the end... It's like the story of "Wolf" , next time, if she did get into trouble, no one would trust him; sending false alarms would drain his credibility, and he'd need them for other things in the future...

tick.

Harry recognized that this was a sign of the "worry about losing face" mode - the very thing that keeps most people from doing anything when they're uncertain - and pushed it hard.Even so, he also found it strange that it took so much willpower to make up his mind to shout out in front of everyone; if it was just that he didn't see Hermione in the crowd, rather than that Hermione was really missing, things would be fine. would be very embarrassing...

tick.

Harry took a deep breath and called out as loud as he could, "Hermione Granger! Are you there?"

The students all turned to look at him.Then some people looked around at their sides.Some conversations were cut off; the noise in the room died down.

"Has anyone seen Hermione Granger after - after about 10:30 today? Does anyone know where she might be?"

There is less background noise.

Nobody raised their voices to shout at him, especially nobody shouted: Don't worry, Harry, I'm right here.

"Oh, Merlin," sighed someone nearby, and then the background noise started up again, with a new tone of excitement in the voice.

Harry stared at his hands, blocking out the noisy nonsense, trying to think, think, think—

tick.

tick.

tick.

Susan Burns and a red-haired boy with a battered wand pushed their way through the crowd while pushing their way to Harry's side.

"We've got to find a way to notify the professors—"

"We have to find her—"

"Find her?" Susan snapped back at him, turning to him. "How do we do this, Captain Weasley?"

"We're going to find her!" snapped Ron Weasley.

"Are you crazy? There are already professors searching the corridors. What makes you think we have a better chance of running into General Granger? Only we will be eaten by trolls! And then we will be expelled!"

Sometimes listening to a bad idea makes a good one obvious by comparison.This is very strange.

"Okay! Listen up, everyone!"

People turned to look at him.

"Quiet! Everyone shut up!"

Harry's throat hurt when he finished shouting, but everyone's attention turned to him.

"I have a broomstick," said Harry as loudly as he could, fighting a sore throat.Because he thought of the trouble caused by Azkaban's broom that could only ride two people, he asked for a broom that could seat three people when specifying the equipment. "I need a seventh year in the army to come with me. We're going to fly down the corridors as fast as we can, find Hermione Granger, pick her up, and be right back. Who wants to come with me?"

There was a sudden silence in the auditorium.

----------------------

The students looked at each other anxiously.The younger students looked expectantly at the seniors, and the seniors looked at the students on the perimeter.Most of the defensive students were looking straight ahead, wands raised, in case the troll happened to choose that moment to break through the wall.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

Harry Potter spoke again: "We don't have to fight the troll. If we see it, we just need to fly away, and it will never catch up to our broom. I will take care of coordinating with the school. Please."

Everyone continued to look at the others.

----------------------

Harry stared at the silent crowd - a dozen seventh graders all looking firmly out of the crowd - and he felt a chill creep through him.Somewhere in the back of his mind, Professor Quirrell was laughing mockingly at how he'd think ordinary fools would volunteer to do something useful without a wand pointed at their head...

tick.

For the bystander indifference effect [2], the standard response is to focus fire on a single individual. "Okay," said Harry, trying to maintain the unmistakable command of the Boy Who Lived, "Miss Morgan, come with me now. We have no time to waste."

The witch named by him had been staring out firmly at the border of the defensive circle before, but now she turned her head, her face paled in horror for a second, and then her face became expressionless.

"The Vice-Chancellor orders us all to stay here, Mr Potter."

Harry took some effort to loosen his clenched teeth, "Professor Quirrell didn't say that, and neither did you. Professor McGonagall is not a tactician, she didn't think of checking to see if any students were missing, and she thought it would make sense It's a good idea to evacuate the students from the corridors. But she understands when someone points out Professor McGonagall's mistakes, and you've seen her listen to you and Professor Quirrell; I'm sure she wouldn't want us to ignore Hermione Granville The fact that Jay's out there, alone—"

tick.

"I think the professor will say she doesn't want more students wandering around. The professor says that if you leave the hall, for whatever reason, you'll be expelled. Maybe you don't have to worry about being expelled just because you're the Boy Who Lived, but The rest of us have to worry!"

tick.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Professor Quirrell was laughing at him.He expects normal people to act without a clear strategy and with no clear personal responsibility when they have excellent excuses to stand by... "A student's life is at stake," said Harry in a steady voice, "and now , she might be fighting a troll. Just out of curiosity, doesn't that mean anything to you?"

tick.

Miss Morgan's face contorted. "You—you're the Boy Who Lived! If you want to help her, just run out and snap your fingers!"

tick.

Harry barely realized what he was saying: "That's just cleverness and big talk, I don't have that kind of power in real life, a young girl needs your help, are you a Gryffindor after all?"

"Why are you telling me this?" cried Miss Morgan. "I'm not in charge here! Mr. Hagrid is in charge!"

An awkward silence spread throughout the room.

Harry turned to look up at the burly half-giant towering over the crowd of students, while the others turned their heads in unison to him.

"Mr Hagrid," said Harry, trying to keep his tone commanding, "you need to authorize this operation, and do it now."

Rubeus Hagrid looked torn, but his large head was surrounded by untrimmed beard and curly hair, and it was hard to judge his expression; only his eyes looked alive, sunken in so much hair. "Uh..." said the half-giant, "I gotta keep ye all safe—"

"Great, so can we also keep Hermione Granger safe? You know, the innocent student who was framed for murder and needs someone to help her?"

The half-giant jumped when Harry said that.

Harry stared at the gigantic figure, hoping desperately that he would take the hint, hoping it didn't give anyone else away the truth that he couldn't just be muscular, and James and Lily shouldn't be friends with him just because mercy--

"Framed?" someone yelled from somewhere near the Slytherin colony. "Huh, you're still saying that? She deserved it if she got eaten."

Some people laughed, while others shouted angrily.

The half-giant's expression hardened. "Stay here, little one," Mr. Hagrid rumbled, although he might have meant to say it in a gentle tone. "I'll go find her myself. To be honest, the troll might have It's so hard--Yeh gotta pick it up by the ankle, and hold it right, or it'll tear Yee in half--"

"Can you ride a broom, Mr. Hagrid?"

"Er—" Rubeus Hagrid frowned, "No."

"Then you can't search fast enough. Sixth graders! Calling all sixth graders! Are there any sixth graders who aren't useless cowards?"

silence.

"Fifth year? Mr. Hagrid, tell them you authorize them to come with me, to keep me safe! Damn, I'm trying to do the sensible thing!"

The half-blood giant wrung his hands with a painful expression, "Uh—I—"

Something broke in Harry, and he started striding straight for the hall door, pushing everyone who didn't make way for him as if they were clay sculptures? . (He didn't run, because running was the equivalent of inviting someone to stop you.) Somewhere in his head, he was walking through an empty room full of mechanical puppets, distracted by the meaningless noise of the puppets' lips moving attention--

A huge humanoid blocked his way.

Harry looked up.

"I can't let you do that, Harry Potter, especially ye. Strange things are going on at the castle, and someone might be trying to kill Miss Granger—or they might be." Rubeus Hagrid said Regretful but determined, his giant hands hanging by his side like forklift forks, "I can't let you out, Harry Potter."

"Passed out!"

The red beam hit the side of Hagrid's head, causing the huge man to jump.His head swiveled: something as big as his head shouldn't be moving so fast.He yelled at young Susan Burns, "What do you think ye are doing!"

"Sorry!" she screamed. "Fire! Flat slide!"

The gigantic man was too busy slapping the flames out of his beard before he could keep himself from falling; but that didn't matter at the moment, because Harry was past him—

Neville Longbottom stepped in front of him, desperate but determined, the Hufflepuff boy's wand raised.

Harry's hand picked up his wand purely on reflex, and he barely managed to stop himself before Neville cast a spell on him, staring at his captain as if the world had gone mad.

"Harry!" Neville roared, "Harry, Mr. Hagrid is right, you can't go, it might be a trap, they might be targeting you—"

Neville's muscles froze, he lost his balance and fell stiffly to the ground.

A pale Ron Weasley stepped from behind Neville, raised his own wand and said, "Go."

"Ron, you madman, what are you doing--" said a faintly discernible voice in the distance, which seemed to be Miss Clearwater's boyfriend, but Harry was already rushing to the door, and there was no time to look back, even though Ron The voice of reciting spells with Susan rose again.There was an angry roar, and some voices he didn't recognize roared.

So Harry went through the door, reached into the pouch, and said "broomsticks," as the huge door closed again behind him.

As the long, three-person broomstick and its stirrups began to protrude from the pouch, Harry continued to run across the doorway, swearing repeatedly in his head while trying to be sensible. That's what happened to him, trying to find a search plan that would cover all possible places Hermione could go.The library was on the fourth floor, almost on the other side of the castle... Harry had his broom in his hand, he was almost at the huge marble steps, "Get up!", he took off, speeding up to the third floor—

"Gah!" shrieked Harry, barely spinning his broom in the air so as not to pierce one of the figures lurking at the top of the steps.The thrill of trying to stop himself from falling off the broom, the twists he had to make to keep him from falling out of the stirrups, even though it was too close to the ground and there was no room to move, and then—

"Fred? George?"

"We can't figure out how to find her!" blurted out one of the Weasley twins, wringing their hands in distress. "We sneaked out because we thought we could find Miss Granger - there must be a quick way to find someone in Hogwarts Castle, we're both pretty sure - but we couldn't think of what!"

Harry stared at the two of them, hovering upside down on the broom - the position his desperation had brought him - and said completely reflexively, "Well, why are you so sure you'll find her?"

"We don't know!" cried the other Weasley twin.

"Have you managed to find anyone at Hogwarts before?"

"Yes! We—" The Weasley twins who were talking suddenly shut their mouths, and the two red-haired boys looked away, staring blankly into the distance.

There was a loud bang like thunder, and at the same time, two huge doors were pushed open by someone very, very strong.

Harry rolled over in the air to make room for two broomsticks for the Weasleys, who said nothing, and they had no reason to reveal where they were if they didn't have to.As the Weasley twins climbed the stirrups, so much time passed that Harry's heart was pounding, although, according to his mental calculations, Mr. Hagrid probably didn't even get to the bottom of the steps in time.Then the three of them accelerated violently, flying towards the nearest corridor, the stone floor below blurred, and the walls seemed to whistle audibly as they passed (although it was just the wind blowing past their ears) Harry didn't realize until the next corner that he was riding an extended three-seater broom, and barely had time to slow down.

The place on the broom is full now, but if they do find Hermione—Harry can wear the Invisibility Cloak so he can hide from the troll and make room for Hermione—

Harry ducked out of the way before a sudden arch cut his head off.

"We found Jesse!" said the Weasley twins, sitting behind Harry. "I know we did! Then we'd have to inform him that Filch was after him!"

"How?" Harry asked, most of his brain preoccupied with keeping them from dying in a horrible crash.He should have slowed down to be on the safe side, but he was growing restless, an unfounded fear.He can't slow down, and when he does, terrible things will happen...

"We—" said the Wesley twins at the back of the broom, "we don't remember!"

At another sharp turn at a speed, Harry estimated, roughly close to 0.3% the speed of light, they traveled through a twisted corridor that Harry usually took from the Great Hall to the Library, except that if you were riding a broom, It wasn't the shortest path, he should have taken the long, straight west corridor—

The part of his brain that didn't control the driving realized the truth. "Someone has tampered with your memories!" Harry roared, and he traveled at full speed through the twisting corridors, so fast that Weasley, who was sitting on the tail of the broom, would bump into the wall slightly from time to time, because Harry's flight Tips are not suitable for a broom of this length.

"What?" cried Fred and George.

"The person who implanted Hermione's memory, no matter who he is, also disturbed your memory!" Maybe it was a forget-me-not spell, or maybe it was a false memory implanted that was not very successful, but right now Harry had no time to think——

The broom turned and climbed straight up a spiral staircase, all three of them clinging to the broom so they could pass through the opening in the ceiling and into the fourth floor, and they stood in front of the library, The broomstick decelerated and came to a screeching stop, despite the fact that there was nothing to brake it.Harry cast a quick glance at the Weasley brothers, telling them to stay where they were, while he climbed off his broom, pushed open the library door, and stuck his head in, controlling his breathing.

Hermione Granger wasn't there.

Mrs. Pince, who was eating a sandwich at the table, looked up and glared. "The library is closed!"

"Have you seen Hermione Granger?" said Harry.

"I said the library is closed, boy! Lunch time!"

"That's very important. Have you seen Hermione Granger, or do you know where she might be?"

"No, get out now!"

"Do you know how to contact Professor McGonagall quickly in an emergency?"

"Huh?" said the librarian in surprise.She stood up from behind the desk. "how--"

"Yes or no. Please answer immediately."

"Ah - Floo -"

"She's out of the office," said Harry. "Do you know of any other way to reach her? Yes or no?"

"Young man, I ask you—"

Harry mentally classified the situation as "I'm talking to an NPC again", and he turned and dashed back to his broom.

"Don't go!" roared Mrs. Pince, rushing through the door.