Harry Potter and the Way of Reason

Author's note: This chapter does not contain spoilers for any of Orson Scott Card's novels.Just a metaphor.

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Not long after, there was another knock on the storage room door.

"If you really cared about my mental health," the boy said without looking at it, "you'd go away and leave me alone until I went down to dinner. It's no use."

The door opened, and those who were waiting outside stepped in.

"Seriously?" the boy said dryly.

The door clicked shut behind Severus Snape.

The Hogwarts potions master didn't show his usual haughty look, or even put on his usual deadpan disguise in the headmaster's office; he had a strange stare as he looked down at the boy guarding the door ; his mind is unpredictable.

"I can't imagine what the Vice-Headmaster was thinking either," said the Hogwarts Potions Master, "unless I was a warning, to warn you that if you try to blame yourself for her death it will lead you to Where."

The boy's lips pursed together. "Okay, let's skip to the end of this conversation. You won, Professor Snape. I agree that you are more responsible for Lily Potter's death than I am for Hermione Granger's." Lots of responsibilities, and mine isn't as culpable as yours. Then I tell you to go away, and you tell them I'm afraid I'd better be left alone for a while. Are we done?"

"Not so far," said the Potions Master. "It was I who put the note under Miss Granger's pillow and told her where to find the battle she had intervened in."

The boy didn't react at all.Finally he said. "Because you don't like bullying."

"It's not just that." There was an unfamiliar pain in the Potions Master's voice; it's hard to imagine that same voice had once harshly instructed the children not to stir one more time, or they'd blow their wrists off, "I thought, I should have realized... a long time ago, but I didn't realize it at all, completely immersed in my own world. Making me head of Slytherin... means that Albus Dumbledore has already had There is no hope of saving Forest College, I'm sure Dumbledore must have tried, I can't imagine he didn't try when he first became Headmaster. So many Slytherins answered the Dark Lord's call after that ... must be a severe blow to him, and he will not let me hold power in the Academy and let me do as I please, unless he loses all hope." The Potions Master drooped his shoulders under his speckled robes, "But you and Miss Granger trying to do something, and you two even managed to convert Mr Malfoy and Miss Greengrass, maybe those two could set a different example... I guess I'm foolish to believe that. Headmaster Don't know what I did and I ask you not to tell him."

"Why did you tell me?"

"Things have become too serious to tell no one," Severus Snape twisted his lips, "I've seen enough catastrophic events during my tenure as Head of Slytherin." enough to know what happens to them sometimes. If, in the future, it all comes out—then at least I told you, and you can tell it all."

"Very well," the boy said, "thanks for clarifying. Any more?"

"Are you going to claim that your life is now in ruins and that all you have left is vengeance?"

"No. I still have—" the boy stopped abruptly.

"Then I have no advice for you," said Severus Snape.

The boy nodded flatly, "On behalf of Hermione, thank you for helping her deal with the bullies. She'll tell you that's the right thing to do. Now, I'd appreciate it if you could tell them to leave me alone."

The Potions Master turned to the door, and when his face was out of sight, he whispered, "I am truly sorry for your loss."

Severus Snape left.

The boy watched him off, trying to remember something he had said earlier.

Your book betrayed you, Potter.They don't tell you one thing you need to know.You can't tell from stories what it's like to lose someone you love.That's something you'll never understand until you've experienced it yourself.

That's about it, the boy thought, if he remembered correctly.

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Hours later, behind the closed doors of the medical room, a body lay solemnly behind.

Harry continued to stare at the wand in his lap.Tiny scratches and stains on the eleven-inch holly that he hadn't noticed before.A quick mental calculation shows that there's no reason to worry, and if it's six or seven months of accumulated damage, then a standard lifetime won't wear the wand out completely.If he had openly yelled down the hall "Anyone have a Time-Turner?", he might have been worried about his own Time-Turner being confiscated, but decided to get someone to send Professor Flitwick a message to the two after lunch. It was a breeze before the hour.Then, long before the troll gets close to Hermione, Professor Flitwick can go find her directly, or send his Patronus to find her.Maybe in that parallel world, Harry would find out too late - hear that Hermione was dead, after lunch, before paying to send a message to the past?Maybe the cardinal rule of time travel is to ensure that you don't risk letting yourself know that it's too late until you go back in time.There was a bit of a chemical burn on the end of his wand, presumably from contact with the acid that partially transformed him in the troll's brain.Missing a bit of wood, but the wand still looks solid.Indeed, the more you think about it, the weirder the concept of needing a "magic wand" becomes.But if spells are all invented in mystical ways, new rituals are created like new levers are placed on unknown machines, then perhaps it is just that people keep creating rituals for using wands, just as they created "Wingardi". Mleviosa" phrases.It seems like magic really should, in a sense, be almost omnipotent, and it would certainly be handy if Harry could ignore any conceptual constraints preventing people from inventing spells like "fix everything forever" Yes, but somehow, where there is magic, things are never that simple.Harry looked at his mechanical watch again, but it wasn't time yet.

He tried casting the Patronus spell, intending to tell his Patronus to find Hermione Granger.Just in case it's all a lie, tampering with memory spells or one of who knows how many other ways to make wizards close their eyes and dream; in case the real Hermione is still alive, held somewhere, though he To have felt firsthand the process of her life leaving her; in case there was an afterlife, and the true Patronus could reach it.

The spell didn't work, so this particular test failed to provide any evidence, leaving only the same pessimistic prior probability as before.

Time passed, and then more time.From the outside all you could see was a boy, sitting, staring blankly at his wand and checking his watch every two minutes or so.

The door to the infirmary compartment was opened again.

The boy sat looking up with deadly, chilling eyes.

Then the boy's face was full of surprise, and he got up.

"Harry," said the man in a dark vest over a dark button-down formal shirt.His voice was hoarse. "Harry, what happened? The Headmaster of your school - he showed up in my office in those ridiculous robes and told me Hermione Granger was dead!"

A moment later, a woman followed the man into the house; she looked less confused, less overwhelmed, and more frightened.

"Dad," the boy said reluctantly, "Mum. Yes, she's dead. Didn't they tell you anything else?"

"No! Harry, what happened?"

a pause.

The boy slid down against the corner. "I don't-can't, I can't, I can't."

"what?"

"I can't pretend I'm a little boy, I just really don't have the energy right now."

"Harry," the woman stammered, "Harry—"

"Dad, you know those fantasy novels where the hero has to hide everything from his parents because they, they won't understand, they react stupidly, and get in the hero's way? It's a plot setting, yes, so that the hero himself Fix everything instead of telling his parents. Please- please don't be that plot setup, dad, or you, mom. Just...just don't be that character. Don't be the parent who doesn't understand. No-don't yell at me Yell, give me parental orders that I can't keep. Because I'm walking into a stupid fucking fantasy, and now Hermione - I really - just don't have the energy to deal with it."

Slowly, as though only half of his limbs were moving, the man in the black vest knelt down where Harry stood, so that he could look at his son. "Harry," said the man, "I want you to tell me exactly what happened, now."

The boy took a deep breath, swallowing. "They su-told me that the Dark Lord I defeated might still be alive. As if that wasn't a drama-plot in a hundred bad books, right? So, it might as well be the headmaster of my school, the world's most Powerful wizard, crazy. Also, and Hermione was framed for attempted murder before this, and no one told her parents about it. Her student who was framed for attempted murder was Lucius Malfoy's son, Lucius Malfoy. St is the most powerful politician in magical britain and used to be number [-] to the dark lord. The professorship of defense at this school is cursed, no one can hold it for more than a year, they have a saying that it is defense Professors are always suspect. This year's Defense Professor is secretly a mystical wizard who fought against the Dark Lord in the last war, who may or may not be evil himself. And the potions master has been coveting Lily Boe for years Special, maybe because of some kind of distorted psychological reason, he is the mastermind behind all of this." The boy pursed his lips bitterly, "I think that's most of the stupid plots of the hell."

After listening to all this quietly, the man stood up.His hand pressed gently on the boy's shoulder. "Enough, Harry," he said, "I've heard enough. We'll leave this school now, and take you with us."

The woman looked at the boy with doubts on her face.

The boy stared at her and nodded.

The woman's voice was forced when she spoke. "They won't let us take Harry away, Mike."

"They have no legal right to stop us—"

"Right? You're Muggles," said the boy.He smiled wryly, "You're like a mouse in the judicial system of magical England. No wizard cares about your arguments about rights, fairness, and they won't even take the time to listen. You don't have any power, understand, so They won't care. No, Mum, I don't laugh like that because I agree with their policy on Muggles, I laugh because I don't agree with your policy on children."

"Then," said Professor Mike Verris-Evans assertively, "we'll see what the real government thinks about it. I know a few MPs—"

"They'll say, you're crazy and enjoying your time in a mental institution. That's assuming the Ministry of Magic amnestics don't find you first and erase your memory. I've heard that's what they do to Muggles a lot. I presume our government really The higher-ups themselves have signed a convenient agreement with the other party. If some important person has cancer, maybe he can still receive healing spells from time to time." The boy showed a twisted smile again, "That's the actual situation, Dad, this Mom already knew. If you could do even one thing about it, they would never have brought you here or told you anything."

The man opened his mouth, but no words came out, as if he had read a script describing what anxious parents should do in this situation, and then the script suddenly went blank.

"Harry." The woman faltered.

The boy looked at her.

"Harry, what happened to you? You look... different..."

"Petunia!" said the man, his tongue seemingly working again, "Don't say that! He's just stressed, that's all."

"Well, Mom, look—" the boy's voice was hoarse, "Do you want to know all at once, Mom?"

The woman nodded, though said nothing.

"I have... you know how the school psychologist thought I had anger management[2] issues? Well—" the boy paused, swallowing, "I don't know how to explain it to you, Mom, It's actually magic. Maybe it has something to do with what happened the night my parents died. I...well, I call it the dark side of the mystery, I know it sounds like a joke, and I do have a connection with the old telepathic The sensory magic hat checked to make sure my scar wasn't actually inhabited by the dark lord's spirit, the hat said there was only one person under the brim, anyway I don't think wizards have real souls because they still get brain damage, it's just— —”

"Harry, slow down!" said the man.

"—just, just whatever it is, it's still real, it's something in me that gives me willpower when things go bad, and I can look down on everything when I'm angry, Snape, Dumbledore , the whole of the Wizengamot, my dark side is not afraid of anything but dementors. I'm not stupid, I know there might be a cost to using my dark side, and I'm always looking for what the cost is. It didn't change my magic , it didn't result in a permanent change of faction[3], it didn't try to take me away from friends or anything like that, so whenever I had to use it I kept using it until it was too late Now, I just found out what the real price is—" The boy's voice was almost whispering, "I didn't find out until today...every time I summon it...it consumes my childhood little by little. I kill The thing that killed Hermione. It wasn't my dark side that did it, it was me. Oh, Mum, Dad, I'm so sorry."

There was a long silence, filled with the sound of breaking masks.

"Harry," the man said, kneeling down again, "I need you to start at the beginning and explain slowly."

The boy speaks.

Parents listen.

After a while, the father stood up.

The boy looked up at him with a worried expression on his face.

"Harry," the man said, "Penny and I will get you out of here as soon as possible—"

"Don't," the boy warned, "I'm serious, Dad. The Ministry of Magic is not your thing. Pretend they're the Inland Revenue or the Deans or something that doesn't challenge authority. In Magical Britain you're only allowed to record The government thinks you should remember. Remembering that magic exists or that you have a son called Harry is a privilege, not a right. And if they did, I'd lose control and set the Ministry of Magic on fire. Mom, you know the truth, you must stop Dad from being stupid."

"Son—" the man rubbed his temples, "maybe I shouldn't say this now...but are you sure you're really talking about the dark side of magic and not something normal for a boy your age?"

"Normal," said the boy with great patience, "how normal, exactly? I could double-check, but I'm pretty sure it's not in the Children's World: A Parent's Guide[4]. My dark side Not just an emotional state, it made me smarter. In a way, anyway. You can't pretend you're smarter."

The man rubbed his head again. "Well... there is a well-known phenomenon that children go through a biological process that sometimes makes them angry, dark, and cold, and this process also greatly improves their intelligence and height—"

The boy slid down against the wall again. "No, Dad, it's not that I'm going to be a teenager. I checked my brain, and it still thinks girls are annoying. But if that's what you're trying to pretend, then fine. If you don't believe me, I You might be better off. I just—" The boy's voice cracked, "I just can't stand lying about it."

"Adolescence doesn't have to be like that, Harry. It might take you a while to notice girls. But, actually, you haven't noticed a—" the man stopped abruptly.

"I don't like Hermione that way," the boy whispered. "Why does everyone think it has to be that way? It's disrespectful to her to think that one can only like her that way."

The man swallowed visibly, "Anyway, son, you have to keep yourself safe while we set out to get you out of here, understand? Don't really think you've turned to the dark side, I know what you've been through Now, ah, what I used to call your Ender Wiggin moment—”

"I think we're past Ender's time now, and we're entering a post-Ender era where the Zerg killed Valenti."

"Words!" said the woman, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

the boy said wearily. "That's not what it means[6], Mom. They're bug-shaped aliens—forget it."

"Harry, that's what I'm saying you shouldn't think," said Professor Virys-Evans affirmatively, "don't believe you're becoming evil. You can't hurt anyone, don't put yourself at risk , or black magic, when your mother and I are trying to get you out of this situation. Got it, son?"

The boy closed his eyes. "Excellent suggestion, Dad, if I were in a comic book."

"Harry—" the man said.

"Cops can't do it. Warriors can't do it. The world's most powerful wizard can't do it, he's tried. It's not fair to play Batman and make innocent passers-by suffer if you can't really follow the law and protect everyone." Yes. And I just proved that I can't either."

Sweat glistened on Professor Mike Verris-Evans' forehead. "Now you listen to me. No matter what you've read, you're not expected to protect anyone! Or get yourself into danger! Whatever the danger! Any danger! Stay away from all of this Yes, any insanity in this madhouse, we'll take you out of here as soon as we can!"

The boy looked inquiringly at his father, then his mother.Then he looked at his watch again.

"Excellent view," said the boy.

The boy went to the door leading outside and opened it.

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The door creaked open, startling Minerva, and before she could think, Harry Potter walked out of the room, staring straight at her.

"You brought my parents here," said the Boy Who Lived, "to Hogwarts. There is a mystery person or someone lurking around here, targeting my friends. Are you What are you thinking?"

She didn't answer that she was thinking of Harry sitting in front of the door leading to the storage room, where Hermione's body lay, refusing to move.

"Who else knows?" Harry Potter ordered. "Did anyone see them with you?"

"The headmaster brought them here—"

"I want them to get out of here immediately, before anyone else, especially You-Know-Who, but also Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape, notice. You send the Patronus to the Headmaster and tell him he needs to get things back right away. Don't mention my parents' names, or mention people, in case someone overhears."

"Indeed," said Professor Verrys-Evans, nodding sternly, standing directly behind the boy, with Petunia a step behind him.His palm was firmly on Harry's shoulder. "We'll finish talking with our son at home."

"Wait, please," Minerva said politely.She failed to cast Patronus the first time, which is a shortcoming of the spell in certain circumstances.It's not the first time she's cast it, but she seems to have lost a bit of the knack—

Minerva blocked the thought and concentrated.

After the message was sent, she turned to Professor Vires-Evans. "Sir," she said, "I'm afraid Mr. Potter must not leave Hogwarts—"

When Albus finally arrived, there was a yell, and the Muggle man gave up on decency.At least one side of the argument is yelling.Minerva was in no mood for debate.The truth was that she couldn't believe the words that came out of her own mouth.

When the professor turned to argue with the headmaster, Harry Potter, who had been quiet the whole time, spoke. "Don't be here," said Harry, "you can argue with him anywhere but Hogwarts, Daddy. Mum, please, please make sure Daddy doesn't do things that will get him into trouble with the Ministry of Magic. "

Mike Willis-Evans scowled.He turned and looked at Harry Potter.His voice was hoarse, with tears in his eyes, "Son—what are you doing?"

"You know exactly what I'm doing," said Harry Potter, "you read those comic books long before you gave me them. I've been through a lot of shit, matured a bit, and now I want to protect my Dear ones. Actually, it's even easier than that, you know what I'm doing because you're trying to do the same. I'm going to get my loved ones out of Hogwarts right away, that's what I'm doing Things. Headmaster, please take them away before the mysterious man finds them and marks them with death."

Mike Verris-Evans rushed towards Harry frantically, then stopped all movement as the Muggle man leaned forward.

"I'm sorry," the Headmaster said quietly. "We'll talk again shortly. Minerva, I was with other people when you summoned me, and they were waiting in your office."

The principal moved forward, as if gliding, until he stood between the frozen man and woman; another string of flickering fire.

Action resumed.

Minerva looked at Harry.

She was speechless.

"Brilliant move, bringing them here," said Harry Potter, "could have ruined our relationship forever. All I want is to be alone until bloody suppertime. That is ," the boy looked at his watch, "that's about now, anyway. I'm going to say goodbye to Hermione myself, I promise it won't take more than 2 minutes, and then I'll come out and get something to eat, like I'm going to anyway Do the same. Don't bother me for the goddamn 2 minutes or I'll snap my fingers and kill someone, I mean it, professor."

The boy turned and walked into the small room, opened the door to where Hermione Granger's body was buried, and walked in before she could think of anything to say.Through the doorway, she saw something she knew she shouldn't show the child—

The door slammed shut.

She walked forward without thinking.

When she got to the door, she stopped.

Her brain was still sluggish and miserable, the part of her that Harry Potter called a stern disciplinarian looking lifelessly lip-smacking on unchildlike behavior.The rest of her didn't think it was a good idea to leave a child, even Harry Potter, alone in the room where his best friend's bloodied corpse was kept.But it didn't seem wise to her to open the door, or to assert any authority.There were no right things to do, no right words to say; if there were any right ways, she didn't know.

Very slowly, a minute and a half passed.

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When the door opened again, Harry seemed changed, as though his entire life had been spent in that minute and a half.

"Seal the room," said Harry quietly. "Let's go, Professor McGonagall."

She walked towards the storage room door.She couldn't quite restrain herself from looking in, and saw the dried blood, the lower body covered by the sheet, the doll-like pale upper body, and a glimpse of Hermione Granger's closed eyes.A part of her was crying again.

She closed the door.

She moved her fingers over her wand, mouthing words without thinking, and spell and wand sealed the room from entry.

"Professor McGonagall," said Harry in a strange, mechanical voice, "do you have that stone? The one the headmaster gave me? I'm going to turn it into a gemstone again, since it does prove usefulness."

Her eyes turned involuntarily to the ring on Harry's left pinky finger, noticing that the setting that should have been set with gemstones was empty. "I'll bring it up with the principal," her tongue replied.

"By the way, is that a common tactic?" said Harry, still in a strange voice, "to make a large object smaller and carry it as a weapon? Or is that a common Transfiguration practice?"

Dazed, she shook her head.

"Okay, let's go then."

"I still—" she paused, "I'm afraid I have other things to do now. Can you do it yourself, can you promise to go straight to the hall for something to eat, Mr. Potter?"

The boy promised (unless special and unexpected circumstances occurred, she did not dispute the terms) and walked out of the room.

What awaits her... will not be easier, that's for sure, it will most likely be more difficult.

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Minerva walked quickly to the office; she didn't walk slowly because that would be rude.

Professor McGonagall opened the door to her office.

"Ms Granger," said her voice, "Mr Granger, I am very, very sorry—"

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1. Orson Scott Card: Author of Ender's Game

//zh.wikipedia/wiki/%E5%A5%A5%E6%A3%AE%C2%B7%E6%96%AF%E7%A7%91%E7%89%B9%C2%B7%E5%8D%A1%E5%BE%B7

2. Anger Management: Tips for Controlling Your Temper and Staying Calm

en.wikipedia/wiki/Anger_management

3. "Children's World: A Parent's Guide": It is one of the children's series. This series is produced by World Book Publishing House. It is an encyclopedia for children. Each book has a different theme, covering literature, mathematics, science and technology. etc.

//en.wikipedia/wiki/Childcraft?set

4. Camp: The ethical and moral attitudes of characters in the setting of Dungeons and Dragons are classified into 3x3 camps of lawful, neutral, chaotic and kind, neutral, and evil.