Harry Potter and the Way of Reason

Hermione Granger once read somewhere that one of the keys to staying slim is to be mindful of your food, to notice that you're eating, and thus be satisfied with what you're eating.She made toast this morning, spread butter on the toast, and sprinkled cinnamon on the butter. This time, it should make her pay attention to the delicious food in front of her...

Hermione swallowed another mouthful of toast, not noticing neither the cinnamon nor the butter, nor what she was eating, not even noticing that she was eating, she said, "Can you explain again? I Still completely confused."

"It's easy if you think like a bright Slytherin," the boy said.Now the whole school, except the two of them, believed that he was her true love.Harry Potter was absently stirring his breakfast cereal with a spoon; as far as Hermione observed, he hadn't eaten much this morning. "All good things in the world stir up forces against them. The Phoenix is ​​no exception."

Hermione unknowingly took another bite of buttered cinnamon toast and said, "How could someone stop on your shoulder and follow you without understanding that Fox thinks you're a good person? He wouldn't do that to a dark wizard! Never will!"

She didn't yell at anyone that Fox had touched her own cheek because she knew it wasn't right—if Phoenix touched you, you shouldn't be showing it off, Phoenix wasn't there to show off.

But she had hoped very much that this fact would dispel the rumor that Harry Potter was going evil and that Hermione Granger was following him.

However, it does not.

And she really didn't understand why not.

Harry took another bite of his cereal, and his eyes became dazed, and he stopped looking at her. "Think of it this way: One day you cut class and lied to your teacher that you were sick. The teacher asked you to turn in your doctor's note, so you faked one. The teacher said she would call the doctor to check, so you Just had to give her a fake doctor number and ask a friend to pretend to be a doctor when she calls—"

"What did you do?"

Harry looked up from the cereal and smiled. "I'm not saying I've actually done such a thing, Hermione..." He suddenly lowered his eyes again to look at the cereal in the bowl. "No. It's just an example. I'm just saying, lies are contagious. To cover up a lie, you have to tell more lies, about everything related to the first lie. If you keep lying, If you keep trying to hide, sooner or later you will be forced to lie about the basic laws of thinking. For example, someone wants to sell you an alternative drug that has no effect[1], but any double-blind experiment will prove that it does not work. If there Whoever wants to continue to maintain this lie, they have to convince you not to believe the experimental method. For example, the experimental method is only effective for ordinary scientific drugs, and it is not effective for their magical alternative drugs. Or a good And noble people should be as convinced as they are, no matter what the evidence is. Or the truth does not exist, there is no such thing as objective fact. Many popular ideas are not only wrong, but also anti-epistemological [2], which is a systematic error. For every law of reason that tells you how to find the truth, someone will want you to believe the opposite. Once you lie, the truth is always your enemy; and there are many liars—” Harry stopped.

"What does this have to do with Fox?" she asked.

Harry took the spoon out of the cereal and pointed to the table of honor. "The headmaster has a phoenix, doesn't he? And he's the head wizard of the Wizengamot? So he'll have political enemies, like Lucius. So, do you think his political enemies will surrender just because Dumbledore has a phoenix?" , and they didn't? Even, do you think they would admit Fawkes as evidence that Dumbledore was a good guy? Of course not. They'd have to invent something to make Fawkes seem... unimportant. For example, the Phoenix would only follow People who go straight for whoever they consider evil, so owning a phoenix just means you're a fool, or a dangerous fanatic. Or, a phoenix just follows pure Gryffindors, so pure that nothing but Gryffindors There are no other House virtues other than that. Or it just goes to show how much courage a magical creature thinks you have, that's all, and it's not fair to judge politicians by such standards. They have to say something to disprove the Phoenix. I bet Lucius didn't need to invent new theories. I bet all of this has been said before, from centuries ago when the phoenix first stood on a man's shoulder, and someone wouldn't want to People take this as evidence. I bet by the time Fox comes along, it's such a common-accepted idea that it's weird to think about who Phoenix likes and doesn't like. It's like a Muggle newspaper going to test It would seem strange how much a political candidate knows about science. For every good force in the universe, there are people who would benefit from denigrating it, or need to coerce it into a tight cage so it doesn't get in their way."

"But—" said Hermione, "well, I get why Lucius Malfoy doesn't want people to think Fox is important, but why would anyone who isn't a bad guy believe it?"

Harry Potter shrugged slightly.He put the spoon back into the cereal and started stirring it constantly. "Why are people attracted to cynicism? Because it seems to be a sign of maturity and sophistication, as if you know everything, better than others. Or because putting others down feels like elevating yourself. Or they don't have a phoenix themselves, so their politics Their intuition tells them that speaking good things about Phoenix won’t do them any good. Or, being cynical gives people a feeling, as if they know the secret truth that ordinary people don’t know...” Harry Potter looked in the direction of the chief guest , lowering his voice, almost to a whisper, "I think maybe that's where he got it wrong—he's cynical about everything but cynicism itself."

Hermione involuntarily looked in the direction of the guest table as well, but the Defense Professor's seat was still empty, as it was on Monday and Tuesday; the Vice-Chancellor had earlier announced the cancellation of Professor Quirrell's class for today.

Afterwards, Harry ate a few mouthfuls of treacle tart and left the table; Hermione looked at Anthony and Padma, who happened to be eating nearby, but certainly not eavesdropping or anything.

Anthony and Padma looked back at her.

Padma asked hesitantly, "Is it just me who feels this way, or does Harry Potter talk like a more complicated book these days? I mean, do I hear him?" how long--"

"You're not alone in feeling that way," Anthony replied.

Hermione didn't say anything, but she was growing worried.Whatever happened to Harry Potter that day in Phoenix, he's changed; there's something new about him.Not grim, but tough.Sometimes she found him staring out the empty window with a kind of serious determination on his face.During Monday's Herbalism class, a fireweed[3] got out of control, and Harry pulled Terry away from the fireball as Professor Sprout called out a spell to freeze the flames; and Harry got up from the floor and went back to his seat like nothing special had happened.Then, that same Monday, when she finally passed him in Transfiguration, instead of gnashing his teeth, Harry smiled at her as if to congratulate her; and it... bothered her a lot.

She had a feeling that Harry was...

... getting farther and farther away from her...

"He suddenly seemed more mature," Anthony said. "Unlike a real grown-up, I can't imagine Harry becoming a grown-up, but it's like he's suddenly turned into a fourth-year version of... himself, whatever he is."

"Well," said Padma, daintyly frosting a chocolate scone, "I think dragons and sunbeams had better be allied in the next war, or Mr. Over us. The last time we made an alliance, Chaos almost won—"

"That's right," Anthony said, "You're right, Miss Patil. Tell Dragon General that we want to meet with you—"

"No!" said Hermione. "We shouldn't have to band together to have any hope of defeating General Potter. It doesn't make sense, especially now that no one can use Muggle products. There are still 24 soldiers in each army." .”

Neither Padma nor Anthony answered.

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Knock-knock, knock-knock.

"Come in, Mr. Potter," she said.

The door creaked open, and Harry Potter sidled into her office through the crack; he closed the door behind him with one hand, and sat silently in the soft chair in front of her desk.She had transformed the chair so many times that it sometimes changed with her moods, without spells or wands or even a conscious thought.Now, the chair conjures up deep cushions that sink in as Harry sits down, as if to hug him.

Harry didn't seem to notice.There was a quiet determination in the boy's look; his eyes were fixed on hers, unwavering. "You called me?" the boy asked.

"Yes," replied Professor McGonagall, "I have two good news for you, Mr. Potter. First—do you know Mr. Rubeus Hagrid? The gamekeeper? He's your parents' old man." friend."

Harry hesitated, and then, "Mr. Hagrid spoke to me after I came to school here," Harry said, "I think it was the first Tuesday of the first week of school. But he didn't say he knew my parents. I thought he was just trying to get acquainted with the Boy Who Lived... Did he have some secret motive? He didn't look like the type..."

"Ah..." she said.It took her a moment to gather her thoughts. "It's a long story, Mr Potter, but 50 years ago, Mr Hagrid was falsely accused of murdering a student. They broke Mr Hagrid's wand and expelled him from school. Later, Dumbledore The professor, when he became headmaster, gave Mr Hagrid the keys and the gamekeeper."

Harry stared at her intently. "You said the last time a student died at Hogwarts was 50 years ago, and you're sure it was 50 years ago that anyone heard the Sorting Hat's secret message."

She felt a little cold - not even the headmaster or Severus could connect the two things so quickly - and said, "Yes, Mr. Potter. Someone opened the Chamber of Secrets, but people didn't believe it." , and instead blamed Mr. Hagrid for the death. But the headmaster found the spell attached to the Sorting Hat and showed it to a special panel at the Wizengamot. As a result, Mr. Hagrid's sentence was reversed - just this morning, in fact - he'll get permission to buy a new wand." She hesitated. "We... haven't told Mr. Hagrid about it, Mr. Potter. We think Wait until the whole thing is a foregone conclusion, so as not to give him another false hope after so long. Mr. Potter... we want to know, can we tell Mr. Hagrid that you are the one who helped him...?"

She saw the weighing look in his eyes——

"I remember Mr. Hagrid holding you when you were little," she said. "I think he'd be glad to know."

But, on Harry's face, she could see the moment when he decided Ruburt would be of no use to him.

Harry shook his head. "It's bad enough that one might infer a Parseltongue in this year's class," Harry said, "I think it's prudent to keep the whole thing as secret as possible."

She thought of James and Lily, who did not hesitate to reciprocate the friendship offered to them by the burly and brusque man, even though James was heir to a wealthy family, Lily was a young rising master of charms, and Ruburt was just It was a half-blood giant with a broken wand...

"Because you find him useless, Mr Potter?"

There was silence.She didn't want to say it.

A sad look crossed Harry's face. "Maybe," said Harry quietly, "but I don't think he and I would get along, don't you?"

Something blocked her throat.

"Speaking of exploiting people," said Harry, "it looks like I'm about to be drawn into a war with the Dark Lord soon. So while I'm in your office, I'd like to request that my sleep cycle be extended to Thirty hours a day. Neville Longbottom wants to start dueling, a senior Hufflepuff is willing to teach him, and they invited me. And I have other things I want to learn - if you or the Headmaster If you think I should learn anything specifically that will help me become a powerful wizard in the future, please tell me. Please instruct Madam Pomfrey to give me the right amount of potion, or anything else she needs to do—"

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry's eyes met hers directly, "What, Minerva? I know it wasn't your idea, but I want to survive being used by the Headmaster. Please don't be a hindrance to this. "

She almost broke down. "Harry," she whispered, "children shouldn't need to think that way!"

"You're right that you shouldn't be," said Harry, "but a lot of kids have to grow up early, not just me; and most of those kids wouldn't have been five seconds old if they'd switched places with me." Not hesitating. I don't pity myself, Professor McGonagall, there are people in the world who are having a hard time, and I'm not one of them."

Swallowing hard, she said, "Mr. Potter, on a thirty-hour sleep cycle, you'll—grow up, age prematurely—" like Albus.

"In fifth grade, my biological age will catch up to Hermione," Harry said, "It doesn't feel that bad." A wry smile appeared on Harry's face, "To be honest, even without the Dark Lord, I'm afraid I'd like to do the same. Wizards live pretty long, and in the next century wizards or Muggles will probably continue to extend human life. There's absolutely no reason why we shouldn't try to add a few more hours to the day. I have things I plan to accomplish, There are benefits to getting those plans done as quickly as possible."

Long pause.

"Okay," Minerva said, almost in a whisper.She raised her voice. "Very well, Mr. Potter. I'll go and ask the headmaster, and if he agrees, it will be done."

For a moment, Harry's eyes narrowed. "I see. Then please remind the headmaster that Godric Gryffindor said on his deathbed that if anything was right for him, he would not be the smallest student at Hogwarts." It will make them make bad choices."

With a sort of emptiness, she knew that the chances of Albus stopping all of this, and anything in it, had vanished.That's what Albus said to her when she protested that Cameron Edward was too young, and then Peter Piffin when she protested that he was too young, and then she finally Give up and stop protesting. "Who told you that, Mr. Potter?" It wouldn't be Albus - of course Albus would never say that to any student -

"I've been reading a lot lately," said Harry.He started to get up from the chair he was embracing, and then stopped, "May I venture to ask, what is the second piece of good news?"

"Oh," she replied, "ah—Professor Quirrell woke up and said you could—"

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The Hogwarts Infirmary is a bright and open place, and despite being in the middle of the castle, the sky can be seen from all sides.Row after row of long white hospital beds stretched out, and currently only three beds are occupied.A senior boy and a senior girl lived on opposite sides, both of them lay motionless on the bed with their eyes closed, probably under a spell, and lost consciousness, so that the healing spell or potion could make people feel sick. They reconfigured their bodies in uncomfortable ways; the third bed was draped all around, which was presumably a good thing.Madam Pomfrey pushed him forward, telling him not to stare blankly, and Harry had to remind himself pointedly that there were still people who didn't know who the Boy Who Lived was - either that or Pomfrey. It doesn't matter that Mrs. Ray is absolutely dominant in her own hospital, and so on.

Behind the rows of beds were five doors that led to single rooms for patients who needed to be hospitalized for days rather than hours, but who hadn't yet to be transferred to St. Mungo's.

There were no windows, no sky, and the only lighting was a smokeless torch on a solid stone wall; that was the room behind the middle door.Harry wondered if being a professor was enough to demand changes at Hogwarts; or if the infirmary had always had a ward like this, reserved for patients who didn't like light.

In the center of the room, between two identical bedside tables that appeared to be carved from the same gray marble as the walls, stood a white hospital bed that seemed orange in the light of a smokeless torch; Quirrell The professor sat on the bed in a hospital gown, with his back leaning against the bed board, and a white sheet covering his thighs.

Seeing Professor Quirrell lying on Madam Pomfrey's hospital bed was a bit scary, even though the Defense Professor didn't look injured.Even if he knew that Professor Quirrell deliberately pretended to be defeated by Severus, so as to find an excuse to recover the physical strength consumed in Azkaban.Harry hadn't actually seen anyone die in a hospital bed, but he'd seen too many movies.It's a harbinger of death, and a Defense professor shouldn't be a mortal.

Madam Pomfrey warned Harry never to pester her patients.

Harry said, "I understand." Strictly speaking, that didn't say whether he would comply or not.

The stern old nurse turned and began to say to Professor Quirrell that he must never be overtired or... emotional...

Madam Pomfrey's voice became quieter, she turned around hastily, and fled from the room.

"Not bad," Harry commented after the door closed behind the fleeing paramedics, "I'll learn that sometime."

Professor Quirrell smiled, there was no humor in his smile, and his voice was much dryr than usual, "Thank you for your art criticism, Mr. Potter."

Staring into those pale blue eyes, Harry felt that Professor Quirrell looked...

... getting old.

It was a subtle change, perhaps just Harry's imagination, maybe just the dim light.But the hairline on Professor Quirrell's forehead seemed to recede a bit, and the part that wasn't bald seemed to be thinner and grayer. It could be seen from the back of his head that he was beginning to go bald.The face may have sunk in a bit more.

Those pale blue eyes were still sharp and focused.

"I'm glad," said Harry quietly, "that you seem to be back to health."

"Of course, appearances can be deceiving," Professor Quirrell said.He flicked his fingers, and at the end of the movement, he had his wand in his hand. "Do you believe that woman thought she confiscated this from me?"

Then the Defense Professor said six spells; six of the thirty spells that Marie Curie used to protect important conversations.

Harry raised his eyebrows in silent confusion.

"There's only so much I can do at the moment," said the Defense Professor. "I reckon that's enough. But there's a saying: If you don't want to know, you can't tell. Please consider this before you speak. I've heard You want to meet me?"

"Yes," said Harry.He paused and collected his thoughts. "Did the principal or anyone else tell you we can't go out to lunch anymore?"

"Something like that," replied the Defense Professor.Then he said calmly, "Of course, I am extremely sorry."

"Actually, it's even more extreme than that," said Harry. "I've been locked up at Hogwarts and the surrounding hunting grounds indefinitely. I can't leave unless there's a good reason and I'm guarded. Summer vacation." I can't go home, maybe never again. I want to... talk to you about it."

a pause.

The defense professor let out a slight sigh, and said, "Now we can only rely on this known fact: Madam Vice Principal will personally kill anyone who tries to sue me. Mr. Potter, I am going to let this time The conversation is straight to the point, so that it can be over as soon as possible, do you understand?"

Harry nodded, and—

The light from the only torch in the room is on the reddish side of the spectrum, and there is not much reflection on the green snake scales, and the blue and white horizontal stripes are similar.In this light, the whole snake appears very dark.The snake's eyes, normally a deep-set gray, now reflected the torchlight and looked brighter than the rest.

"Okay," said the poisonous creature in Parseltongue, "what do you want to say?"

Harry said in Parseltongue, "The headmaster thinks it was her former master who stole the woman from prison."

This time, Harry did think about it, and thought it out very carefully, and decided to reveal to Professor Quirrell only that the headmaster believed it; not a word about the prophecy that made Voldemort attack Harry's parents, nor The Headmaster reconvened the Order of the Phoenix... it was risky, quite risky, but Harry needed an ally in this matter.

"He believes that person is still alive?" the snake finally said, the forked snake letter flicked left and right, making a snake-like sarcasm laugh, "I don't know why, I'm not surprised."

"Yeah," Harry replied dryly in Parseltongue, "it's funny, I know. But I'm going to be stuck in Hogwarts for the next six years, just to be safe! I did decide , to pursue power; a life of captivity is no good for it. The Headmaster must be convinced that the Dark Lord is not yet awakened, and that this escape is the work of some other power—"

The snake letter was swallowed up again quickly; this time the snake laughed louder and more dryly. "Stupid amateur idea."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in Parseltongue.

"You see a mistake and you want to undo it, to turn time back to the beginning. But even with an hourglass, time cannot be rewritten. It has to move forward. You want people to believe they are wrong. You want people to believe they are right. Much easier. So think about it, kid: How do you get the principal to think you're safe again while still advancing your other plans?"

Harry stared at the snake in bewilderment.His brain tried to understand and solve the puzzle—

"Isn't that obvious?" said the Snake in Snake's language, spitting out the snake's letter again and laughing ironically, "In order to set you free, and to gain power in England, you must be seen to defeat the Dark Lord again."

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In the orange-red light of the flickering torches, a green snake swayed on a white hospital bed, and the boy stared at the embers in its eyes.

"So," said Harry finally, in Parseltongue, "let's get this proposal straight. You're suggesting we set up a scheme where we have someone pretend to be the Dark Lord."

"Almost. The woman we rescued will cooperate, and it will be very convincing if people see her by his side." The snake spat again, "You were kidnapped from Hogwarts to a public The place, many witnesses, and the people who protect you with a barrier. The Dark Lord announced that after wandering for many years in the form of a wandering spirit, he finally regained his body; said he had gained greater power, and even you could not stop it He did. Allowed you to duel with him. You cast the Patronus Charm, and the Dark Lord sneered at you, saying he wasn't a Dementor. Cast the Death Curse on you, you blocked it, and the onlookers watched the Dark Lord explode—"

"A Death Curse?" Harry said in Parseltongue in disbelief. "To me? Again? A second time? No one would believe the Dark Lord was that stupid—"

"You and I are the only ones in this country who notice this," said the snake in Parseltongue. "Trust me on this, child."

"What if a third person appears someday?"

The snake swayed thoughtfully. "I can change the script if you wish. Whatever the scenario, the possibility of the Dark Lord's return must be left open - the nation must feel that they still need your protection."

Harry stared into the deep-set snake's eyes, which glowed red.

"How is it?" the wobbly figure asked in Parseltongue.

The most obvious idea is that if he is led by the strategy and deceit of the defense professor again, he will use more complicated lies to make up for the first mistake. It's exactly the same stupidity for the fake Dark Lord to use the Death Curse again.Harry didn't need his Hufflepuff side to point that out, his own inner voice thought it up.

But there's also the question of whether the correct lesson from last time was to always say no to the Defense Professor immediately, or to...

"I will think about it," Harry replied in Parseltongue, "I won't answer right away this time, I will weigh the pros and cons first—"

"Understood," said the snake in Parseltongue, "but remember, child, that other events will proceed without you. It is always easy to hesitate, but seldom useful."

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The boy came out of the private ward of the infirmary, ran his fingers nervously through his matted black hair, and walked past rows of white beds.Some beds were occupied and some were not.

Shortly afterwards, the boy left Hogwarts Infirmary entirely, nodding absently to Madam Pomfrey as he passed her.

The boy came out, walked down a hallway, turned into a wider hallway, and stopped, leaning against the wall.

the fact is……

...he really didn't want to be stuck at Hogwarts for the next six years; on second thought...

… Rescuing Bellatrix from Azkaban cost more than Harry.Others will worry, live in fear of the return of the Dark Lord, spend unknown resources making unknown preparations.Harry could ask to make it seem unlikely that the Dark Lord would return for a third time in the script.Everyone will breathe a sigh of relief that this is all over.

Unless, of course, there was in fact a Dark Lord to fear.After all, there was indeed a prophecy.

The boy leaning against the wall sighed softly and started walking forward.

Harry almost forgot, but he did take the opportunity to show Professor Quirrell the card that "Santa Claus" sent him on Sunday night. The king of hearts is said to be a portkey and will send him to the Salem Witch Academy in the United States.But of course, when Harry asked Professor Quirrell if he could find out where the Portkey would send him, he didn't tell Professor Quirrell who sent him the card, nor did he tell him about it. What should do in theory.

The Defense Professor returned to human form, checked the K of Hearts, and tapped a few times with his wand.

According to Professor Quirrell...

...this Portkey would take the wielder somewhere in London, but he could not pinpoint it more precisely.

Harry showed Professor Quirrell the note attached to the deck, but did not mention the previous note.

Professor Quirrell understood it at a glance, gave a dry laugh, and pointed out that if you read the note carefully, it didn't explicitly say that the Portkey would take him to Salem Witch Academy.

You have to learn to pay attention to these subtleties, said Professor Quirrell, if you want to grow up to be a powerful wizard; or rather, if you want to live to grow up.

The boy sighed again and plodded off to class.

He began to wonder if all other wizarding schools were like this, or if it was just Hogwarts that had the problem.

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[1］替代药物：替代医学中使用的药物：zh.wikipedia/wiki/%E6%9B%BF%E4%BB%A3%E5%8C%BB%E5%AD%A6

[2] Anti-epistemology: wiki.lesswrong/wiki/Anti-epistemology

[3]Firetrap: The original text is Venus'sfiretrap, which should be an allusion to Venus'sflytrap, which is the Chinese flytrap: zh.wikipedia/wiki/Flytrap

[4] Peter Pevensie, a character in The Chronicles of Narnia (zh.wikipedia/wiki/Narnia Chronicles): en.wikipedia/wiki/Peter_Pevensie