Harry Potter and the Way of Reason

third meeting

(April 31, [-], [-]:[-] am)

Spring is here, and there is a hint of winter coolness in the air in the morning.Daffodils bloom among the new shoots in the forest, their tender yellow petals and golden centers dangling limply on their dead, graying stalks, wounded or killed by the usual April frosts.There were even stranger life forms in the Forbidden Forest, at least centaurs and unicorns, and Harry had heard claims of werewolves.Although, judging by the real-life werewolves Harry had read about, it was pure bullshit.

Harry didn't explore anywhere near the border of the Forbidden Forest because he had no reason to take the risk.He walked incognito among the trees he was allowed in, among more conventional life forms, with a wand in his hand and a broom on his back - easier to get out - just in case.He wasn't actually afraid; Harry found it odd that he wasn't.A vigilant state, ready to fight or flee, lacking heaviness or even abnormality.

Harry walked on the edge of the woods that he was allowed to enter, never staying on the open path - because he might be easier to find that way - never leaving the sight of the Hogwarts windows.Harry set an alarm on his mechanical watch to let him know it was lunch time, because in his invisible state, and all that, he couldn't really look at his wrist.This begs the question of how exactly his eyes work while he's wearing the cloak.According to the law of the excluded middle[1], either the rhodopsin on his retina absorbed the photons and converted them into neural spikes, or those photons went straight through his body and went to the other side, neither of which could coexist.It seems increasingly likely that the invisibility cloak will make you invisible while being able to see the outside world because, on some fundamental level, this is what the makers were—not wanting to be, but were Subconsciously believe - this is how invisibility is supposed to work.

So you're bound to wonder if anyone has ever tried to use a Confusion Charm or Altering Memory Charm on someone to subconsciously convince that person that Fix Everything should be an easy first-year spell, and then Try to invent it.

Or maybe, in a country that doesn't recognize Muggle-born children, find a suitable Muggle-born and tell them a lot of lies, falsifying the surrounding stories and corresponding evidence, so that, from the start, They have a different idea of ​​what magic can do.Although obviously they still need to learn many of the previous spells before they are able to invent their own...

This may not work.There must have been some wizards who were born crazy and really thought they could become gods, and still failed.But even a lunatic might believe that the spell of godhood should involve some flashy, theatrical ritual, rather than something that can be accomplished by carefully waving a wand and chanting We will become gods.

Harry was pretty sure it wasn't going to be that simple.But then the question is, why not?What laws had his brain learned?Can its cause be predicted in advance?

Then, as he pondered the question, a slight wave of fear, a trace of anxiety crept into Harry's mind.The nameless apprehension intensified, became more intense—

Professor Quirrell?

"Mr. Potter." A soft voice came from behind him.

Harry turned around, his hand already on the Time-Turner under his robes; again, the principle of preparing to flee in an instant felt like nothing more than routine.

Professor Quirrell turned to him, hands outstretched, and was walking slowly towards him from the general direction of Hogwarts Castle along the edge of the forest.

"Mr. Potter," continued Professor Quirrell, "I know you are here. You know I know you are here. I must speak to you."

Harry still didn't say anything.Professor Quirrell hadn't quite said what was going on, and Harry's early morning stroll along the edge of the forest in the sun had created a mood of stillness in him.

Professor Quirrell took a small step to the left, a step forward, and a step to the right.He tilted his head, showing a calculated expression, then walked almost straight to where Harry was standing, and stopped a few steps away with the feeling of impending doom soaring to the limit of endurance.

"Is your resolution still intact?" said Professor Quirrell. "The resolution you mentioned yesterday?"

Harry still didn't answer.

Professor Quirrell sighed. "I've done so much for you," said the man, "and whatever you may think of me, you can't deny what I've done for you. Now I want you to pay back some favors. Talk to me, Mr. Potter .”

I don't want to talk now, thought Harry; then: Oh, yes.

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Two hours later, after Harry had noted down the exact time and remembered his exact location, he spun the Time-Turner once, walked for an extra hour, went in and told Professor McGonagall that he was currently outside Hogwarts Talking to the Defense Professor in the woods (just in case something happened to me), walked for another hour, then returned to the original position exactly an hour later, spun the Time-Turner one more time-

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"What's going on?" said Professor Quirrell, blinking. "Did you just—"

"Nothing important," said Harry, without taking off the Invisibility Cloak or the Time-Turner. "Yeah, I'm still unshaken. To be honest, I'm thinking I shouldn't have said anything."

Professor Quirrell looked up. "A mood that is good for life. Is there anything that will change your mind?"

"Professor, if I already knew there were arguments that would change my decision—"

"Indeed, for people like us. But you'd be surprised how often people know what they're waiting to hear, but have to wait to hear it." Professor Quirrell shook his head. In your words... there is a truth that I know and you don't, and I want to convince you, Mr Potter."

Harry raised his eyebrows, although the next instant he realized that Professor Quirrell couldn't see. "That's really my rhetoric, all right. Go ahead."

"The images you form are more dangerous than you realize."

As far as Harry was concerned, it didn't take much brains to answer this startling statement. "Define the danger, then tell me what you think you know and how you know you know."

"Sometimes," said Professor Quirrell, "telling someone about danger leads them straight to it. This time I don't want that to happen. You're expecting me to tell you exactly what you must Can't you do it? Tell you what I'm afraid of?" The man shook his head, "If you were born as a wizard, Mr. Potter, you would know that when a powerful wizard just tells you to be careful, you should be careful. really."

It would be a lie to say Harry wasn't angry, but he wasn't a fool; so Harry just said, "Is there anything you can tell me?"

Professor Quirrell sat down cautiously on the lawn, and drew out his wand; Harry recognized the gesture of his hand, and held his breath.

"This is the last time I can do this for you," said Professor Quirrell softly.Then the man started uttering strange words that Harry couldn't recognize and sounded inhuman, and the words seemed to slip out of his memory as Harry tried to capture them, slipping out of his consciousness as fast as they came in .

This time, the spell took effect more slowly.The trees seem to darken, the branches and leaves are tinted, like a perfect pair of dark glasses, able to attenuate, dilute the light without distorting it.The blue sky gradually faded to gray, dark gray, and at the same time, Harry's brain misspecified the limited distance of the horizon and retreated back.The cloud becomes translucent, transparent, and curls away, letting the darkness shine through it.

The forest was covered with shadows, gradually receding, and gradually disappearing in the darkness.

As Harry's eyes adapted, the vast Milky Way became clearly visible again, becoming the most massive thing that human eyes could see as more than a point - the surrounding Milky Way.

And those stars, with penetrating brightness, are very far away, extending from the distant depths.

Professor Quirrell took a deep breath.Then he raised his wand again (just about to be able to see it, under the starlight without sun or moon), and nodded it on his head, accompanied by a sound like an egg cracking.

The Defense Professor was gone too, also invisible.

A patch of unoccupied lawn—not much light illuminates it—floats in empty space.

For a moment neither of them spoke.Harry looked at the stars contentedly, not even his own body could distract him.Whatever Professor Quirrell had called him here to say, it would be later.

After a while, a voice sounded.

"There is no war here," said a soft voice from the void, "no strife and battle, no politics and betrayal, no death and no life. It is all human folly. Above this folly the stars are not Get your hands on it. There's a lot of peace here, and utter silence. That's what I used to think."

Harry turned and looked at the source of the sound, seeing only the stars.

"Did you ever think so?" said Harry, after what seemed to be no more.

"There is nothing higher than human stupidity," whispered the voice from the void, "nothing can surpass the destructive power of a sufficiently intelligent idiot, not even the stars. I have worked so hard to make a certain The golden plate can last forever. I don't want to see it destroyed by human stupidity."

Once again Harry's eyes reflexively went where the sound should be, and again he saw nothing but emptiness. "At this point, I think I can reassure you, Professor. The fireball from a nuclear weapon wouldn't go farther than... how far was Pioneer 11? Maybe a billion kilometers? Muggles say nuclear weapons will destroy the world, but they What that really means is a little bit of warming of the earth's surface. The sun is a giant converging reactor, not even that can vaporize a distant cosmic probe. In the worst case scenario, a nuclear war would be far from destroying the solar system, Not that it's any consolation."

"It's true for Muggles," said the soft voice surrounded by starlight, "but what do Muggles know about real power? It's not them that scares me. It's you."

"Professor," said Harry cautiously, "although I must admit that I have failed some crucial dice rolls[2] in my life, this and saving throws[2] failed enough for Pioneer 11 to detect It's still a bit far from getting sucked into the blast radius. There's no realistic way to do that without blowing up the sun. Also, before you ask, our sun is a G-type main sequence star[3] , it cannot explode. Any injected energy will only increase the amount of hydrogen plasma, the sun has no degenerate core that can be used to explode [4]. The sun does not have enough mass to become a supernova [5], even at the end of its life Not even the end."

"What wonderful things Muggles have learned," murmured another voice, "how stars live, how they avoid death, how they die. And these people never thought that such knowledge Will it be dangerous?"

"Frankly, Professor, I never thought about it."

"You are Muggle-born. I don't mean blood, I mean the way you spent your childhood. There is freedom in such thoughts, yes. But there is also wisdom in the prudence of the wizarding family. A distance from the Sicilian wizarding lands was It has been three years since 320 that people's stupid ruins[6]. Such accidents were more common in the years of Hogwarts' rise. Even more common in the time of Merlin's death. And in Merlin In the previous time, there was almost nothing left to study."

"The difference between that and blowing up the sun is about thirty orders of magnitude," Harry remarked, before checking himself. "But this is pointless quibbling, sorry, blowing up a country is bad, I agree. Anyway, Professor, I have no plans to do such a thing."

"It's not your choice, Mr Potter. If you read more wizard-born novels and less Muggle tales, you'll understand. In serious literature, threats to free the Shamblebones[7 ] idiots don't make that determination on purpose, that's a fairy tale. A really dangerous wizard might decide to take part in some scheme that would make him famous, only to lose that fame and remain unknown for life. For me, this particular prospect seemed more vivid than the unknown prospect of destroying his country. Or maybe he had made a promise to someone, someone he couldn't disappoint. Maybe his kids were in debt. There's a lot of literary wisdom in these stories. Witnesses that come from grim experience and the ruins of cities. The most likely prospect of a catastrophe is that of a powerful wizard who, for whatever reason, cannot stop at the warning signs. Next. Though he may say many cautious words aloud, he cannot bring himself to really stop. I was wondering, Mr. Potter, have you ever thought of trying what Hermione Granger herself would have told you Don't do that?"

"Okay, got it," said Harry. "Professor, I know very well that if I saved Hermione at the cost of the lives of the other two, the whole thing would already be meaningless from a utilitarian point of view. I know perfectly well that Hermione wouldn't want me Risking the destruction of an entire country just to save her. That's just common sense."

"Killing the dementor children," said the soft voice, "if I were only afraid of you destroying a country, I would be less concerned. At first, I didn't believe your knowledge of Muggle science and Muggle applications." Knowledge can be a source of great power. Now I'm going to believe a little. I'm worried about that golden slab with all sincerity."

"Well, if science fiction has taught me anything," Harry said, "it has taught me that it's not morally acceptable to destroy the solar system, especially before humans colonize any other galaxy."

"Then you'll give up—"

"No." Harry said without thinking.After a while, he added, "But I see what you're trying to tell me."

silence.The stars don't move, not even with time, as they do in Earth's night sky.

There was a very slight rustling sound, as if someone was moving their body.Harry realized he had been standing in the same position for too long, and sat down on the barely visible circle of grass that was still under him, careful not to touch the edge of the spell.

"Tell me," said the soft voice, "why do you care so much about that girl?"

"Because she's my friend."

"Normally, in English, Mr. Potter, the word 'friend' isn't associated with a desperate effort to bring the dead back to life. Do you think she's your true love, or something like that?"

"Oh, don't even you," Harry said wearily, "you're the worst of all, don't be, Professor. Yes, we're best friends, but that's all, come on." ? That's enough. A friend won't let a friend just sleep like this."

"Normal people don't give that much to the people they call friends." The voice sounded more distant now, more ecstatic. "Not even for those they claim they love. Their partner dies, but they don't seek the power to resurrect their partner."

Harry couldn't help it.He looked over again, even though he knew it was futile, only to see more stars. "Let me guess, and from that you infer... people don't actually care about their friends as much as they pretend."

There was a short laugh. "They will never pretend to be more indifferent."

"They care, Professor, and not just their true love. Soldiers will physically block grenades to save their friends, mothers will run into burning houses to save their children. But if you're a Muggle, you don't Think there's such a thing as magic bringing someone back from the dead. Ordinary wizards don't... think out of the box like that. I mean, most wizards haven't found a way to make themselves immortal. Does that mean Do they not care about their lives?"

"As you say, Mr. Potter. I myself must find their lives meaningless and worthless. Perhaps, somewhere in their hidden hearts, they also believe that I am right about them."

Harry shook his head, then, in a fit of irritation, he took off the hood of the Invisibility Cloak, and shook his head again. "This view of the world is too forced, Professor," said the boy's dimly lit head, which was floating unsupported in a circle of dark grass, among the stars. "Trying to invent resurrection spells is common It's the kind of thing they don't think about, so you can't deduce anything from them not making that choice."

After a while, in a circle of grass, the silhouette of a man, framed by a dim light, could be seen again.

"If they really cared about their so-called loved ones," said the Defense Professor softly, "they'd think about it, wouldn't they?"

"That's not how the brain works. The brain doesn't suddenly supercharge when the stacks get stacked—or, when the brain supercharges, it's within strict limits. Even if someone's life was tied to it, I can't figure out what the ratio of pi is. One thousand decimal places."

His head, illuminated by the dim light, tilted. "But there is another possible explanation, Mr. Potter. People are playing the role of friendship. They will do nothing more than what the role asks of them. I have thought for a while that maybe the difference between you and them It's not that you care more than they do. Why are you born with such an uncommon friendship that, among wizards, you're the only one driven by it, making you To revive her? No, the most likely difference isn't that you care more. It's that, as a more rational creature than they are, you're the only one who would have thought that playing the role of 'friend' would require that of you."

Harry stared at the stars.He would be lying if he claimed he wasn't shaken. "That... can't be true, Professor. I can cite a dozen Muggle novels in which people are driven to resurrect their dead friends. The authors of those stories clearly understand how I feel about Hermione. Although you may Haven’t read it, I’m guessing… maybe Orpheus and Eurydice[8]? I haven’t actually read it, but I know what the story is.”

"There are tales of this kind among wizards. There's the story of Brother Eric. The tale of Dora Kent, whose son Thor protected her. There's Ron Merritt.[9] and his doomed challenge to time. Before the fall of Sicily, there was the drama of Prezia Testerosa. In Japan they would tell of Akami Homura and her lost lover .What these stories have in common, Mr. Potter, is that they are fiction. Real-life wizards would not have attempted the same, even if the notion was not beyond their imagination."

"Because they don't think they can do it!" Harry's voice rose.

"Should we go tell good man Professor McGonagall about your goal of finding a way to revive Miss Granger and see how she reacts? Maybe she never thought of it as an option... ah, But you hesitated. You already know her answer, Mr. Potter. Do you know why you know?" A cold smile could be heard in the voice. "What a lovely trick. Thanks for teaching me."

Harry knew his face was tightening, his words seemed to be squeezed through his teeth. "Professor McGonagall didn't grow up with the Muggle concept of the advancement of scientific power, and no one ever told her that when the price is a friend's life, it's time to think very rationally—"

The defense professor's voice also rose, "Professor of Transfiguration is reading the script, Mr. Potter! It's the script that wants her to mourn and grieve, that's all she cares about. If you suggest that ordinary people leave the script, they Responses will be clumsy. You already know that!"

"Funny, I could have sworn I saw Professor McGonagall go off script at dinner yesterday. If I saw her go off script ten more times, I might actually try to talk to her about bringing Hermione back, but Now she's a novice at this and needs practice. At the end of the day, Professor, what you're trying to explain in terms of love and friendship and everything else is a lie, just because of human cognitive limitations."

The defense professor's voice rose. "If you were killed by the troll, Hermione Granger wouldn't even think of doing what you're doing for her now! Draco Malfoy couldn't think of it, Neville Longbottom couldn't think of it , McGonagall can't think of it, any of your cherished friends can't think of it! In this world, no one will respond to the kind of concern you show for her! So why? Why do you want to do this, Mr. Potter?" He There was a strange, wild desperation in his voice, "None of them would do the same for you, so why be the only one in the world pretending to be like this?"

"I believe you are quite mistaken, Professor," Harry replied calmly. "Actually, you've got a lot of things wrong. At least, you have a hole in your emotional model of me. Because, if you think everything you say is true and you can stop me, then you don't know me at all. Everything in the world starts somewhere, everything happens for the first time. Life on Earth started with self-replicating molecules in a pool of mud. And even if I were the first in the world ,No--"

Harry waved his hand outward, beckoning to the distant point of light.

"—even if I'm the first person in this universe who truly cares about other people—and I'm not the first, by the way—then I'm honored to be this person, and I'll do my best.”

There was a long silence.

"You really care about that girl." The man's dark outline said softly, "You care about her, none of them can care about their own lives as much as you do, let alone each other." The defense professor's voice Strangely, with some unrecognizable emotion, "I can't understand, but I know how far you'll go for this. For her, you'll challenge death itself. Nothing can shake you."

"I care enough to put in some real effort," Harry said softly. "Yeah, that's right."

The stars began to fade slowly, and the world shone through the cracks; the cracks of the night showed the trunks, and the leaves sparkled in the sun.Harry raised his hand and blinked vigorously as the returning light pierced his dark-acclimated eyes; his eyes automatically fell on the Defense Professor, in case an attack struck while he blinked.

When all the stars were gone and only the sky was left, Professor Quirrell was still sitting on the lawn. "Well, Mr. Potter," he said in his normal voice, "if that's the case, then I'll help you as much as I can, while I can."

"What do you know?" Harry said involuntarily.

"My proposal from yesterday still stands. Ask me, and I'll answer. Show me any science books you've decided Mr. Malfoy would like to read, and I'll look through them and tell you what I think of. Don't look so surprised, Potter. Sir, it is very difficult for me to let you plan alone."

Harry stared at him, tears welling up in his tear ducts stimulated by the sudden light.

Professor Quirrell looked back at him.There was a strange gleam in the pale eyes. "I've done everything I can, and now I'm afraid I have to leave you. Then—" the Defense Professor paused, "Goodbye, Mr. Potter."

"Again—" Harry began.

The man sitting on the grass fell, and his head hit the ground with a light thud.At the same time, the feeling of impending doom passed away so quickly that Harry jumped up, his heart suddenly in his throat.

But the figure on the floor slowly got up, and he turned his head and glanced at Harry, his eyes were empty and the corners of his mouth were slack.Tried to get up, fell back to the ground.

Harry took a step forward, reaching out reflexively, even if it wasn't the right thing to do; the fear rising in him spoke of constant danger, however slight.

But the fallen figure cowered away from Harry, and then began to slowly crawl away from him, in the general direction of the distant castle.

The boy stood in the woods and stared behind.

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