J. K. Rowling is 87% confident you will burst into flames.
Roger Bacon lived in the 13th century and is credited as one ofthe earliest advocates of the scientific method. Giving a scientisthis experimental diary is sort of like giving a writer the pen, notof Shakespeare, but of someone who helped invent writing.
It wasn't every day you got to see Harry Potter beg.
"Pleeaaase," whined Harry Potter.
Fred and George shook their heads again, smiling.
There was an agonized look on Harry Potter's face. "But Itold you how I did the one with Kevin Entwhistle's cat,and Hermione and the vanishing soda, and I can't tell youabout the Sorting Hat or the Remembrall or Professor Snape..."
Fred and George shrugged and turned to leave.
"If you ever do figure it out," said the Weasley twins, "be sureto let us know."
"You're evil! You're both evil! "
Fred and George firmly closed the door to the empty classroombehind them, and made sure to keep the grin on their faces for awhile, just in case Harry Potter could see through doors.
Then they turned a corner and their faces sagged.
"I don't suppose Harry's guesses -"
"- gave you any ideas?" they said to each other at the sametime, and then their shoulders slumped further.
Their last relevant memory was of Flume refusing to help them,though they couldn't remember what they'd asked him todo...
...but they must have looked elsewhere and foundsomeone to help them do something illegal, orthey wouldn't have agreed to be Obliviated afterward.
How had they possibly been able to get all that done onjust forty Galleons?
At first they'd worried that they'd forged evidence so good thatHarry actually would end up married to Ginny... but they'dthought of that too, it seemed. The Wizengamot proceedings had beentampered with again to put them back the way they'd beenoriginally, the fake betrothal contract had vanished from itsdragon-guarded vault in Gringotts, and so on. It was pretty scary,actually. Most people now thought the Daily Prophet hadjust made the whole thing up for unguessable reasons, and theQuibbler had helpfully twisted the knife deeper with thenext day's headline, HARRY POTTER SECRETLY BETROTHED TO LUNALOVEGOOD.
Whoever they'd hired would tell them after the statute oflimitations expired, they desperately hoped. But meanwhile it wasawful, they'd pulled their greatest prank ever, maybe the greatestprank in the history of pranking, and they couldn't rememberhow. It was crazy, they'd been able to think of a way thefirst time, so why couldn't they see it now afterknowing everything they'd done?
Their only consolation was that Harry didn't know they didn'tknow.
Not even Mum had questioned them about it, despite the obviousWeasley connection. Whatever had been done, it was far out of thereach of any Hogwarts student... except possibly one, who,if certain rumors were true, might have done it by snapping hisfingers. Harry had been questioned under Veritaserum, he'dtold them... with Dumbledore present and giving the Aurors scarylooks. The Aurors had asked just enough to determine that Harryhadn't pulled the prank himself or disappeared anyone, and thengotten the heck out of Hogwarts.
Fred and George had wondered whether to feel insulted aboutHarry Potter being questioned by the Aurors for theirprank, but the look on Harry's face, probably for exactlythe same reason, made everything worth it.
Unsurprisingly, Rita Skeeter and the editor of the DailyProphet had both vanished and were probably in another countryby now. They would've liked to be able to tell theirfamily about that part. Dad would have congratulated them, theythought, after Mum had finished killing them and Ginny had burnedthe remains.
But everything was still all right, they'd tell Dad someday, andmeanwhile...
...meanwhile Dumbledore had happened to sneeze while passingthem in the hallway, and a small package had accidentally droppedout of his pockets, and inside had been two matched wardbreaker'smonocles of incredible quality. The Weasley twins hadtested their new monocles on the "forbidden" third-floor corridor,making a quick trip to the magic mirror and back, and they hadn'tbeen able to see all the detection webs clearly, but themonocles had shown a lot more than they'd seen the firsttime.
Of course they would have to be very careful never to get caughtwith the monocles in their possession, or they would end up in theHeadmaster's office getting a stern lecture and maybe even threatsof expulsion.
It was good to know that not everyone who got Sorted intoGryffindor grew up to be Professor McGonagall.
Harry was in a white room, windowless, featureless, sittingbefore a desk, facing an expressionless man in formal robes ofsolid black.
The room was screened against detection, and the man hadperformed exactly twenty-seven spells before saying so much as"Hello, Mr. Potter."
It was oddly appropriate that the man in black was about to tryreading Harry's mind.
"Prepare yourself," the man said tonelessly.
A human mind, Harry's Occlumency book had said, was only exposedto a Legilimens along certain surfaces. If you failed todefend your surfaces, the Legilimens would go through andbe able to access any part of you which their own mind was able tocomprehend...
...which tended not to be much. Human minds, it seemed, werehard for humans to understand on any level but the shallowest.Harry had wondered if knowing lots of cognitive science could makehim an incredibly powerful Legilimens, but repeated experience hadfinally driven into him the lesson that he needed to get alittle less excited in his anticipations about this sort of thing.It wasn't as if any cognitive scientist understood humans wellenough to make one.
To learn the counter, Occlumency, the first step was to imagineyourself to be a different person, pretending it as thoroughly asyou could, immersing yourself entirely in that alternate persona.You wouldn't always have to do that, but in the beginning, it washow you learned where your surfaces were. The Legilimens would tryto read you, and you would feel it happening if you paid closeenough attention, you would sense them trying to enter. And yourjob was to make sure that they always touched your imaginarypersona and not the real one.
When you were good enough at that, you could imagine being avery simple sort of person, pretend to be a rock, and makea habit of leaving the pretense in place where all your surfaceswere. That was a standard Occlumency barrier. Pretending to be arock was hard to learn, but easy to do afterward, and the exposedsurface of a mind was much shallower than its interior, so withenough practice you could keep it up as a background habit.
Or if you were a perfect Occlumens, you could raceahead of any probes, answering queries as fast as theywere asked, so that the Legilimens would enter through yoursurfaces and see a mind indistinguishable from whoever you werepretending to be.
Even the best Legilimens could be fooled that way. If a perfectOcclumens claimed they were dropping their Occlumency barriers,there was no way to know if they were lying. Worse, you might notknow you were dealing with a perfect Occlumens. They were rare, butthe fact that they existed meant you couldn't trust Legilimency onanyone.
It was a sad commentary on how little human beings understoodeach other, how little any wizard comprehended the depths lyingbeneath the mind's surface, that you could fool the best humantelepaths by pretending to be someone else.
But then human beings only understood each other in the firstplace by pretending. You didn't make predictions about people bymodeling the hundred trillion synapses in their brain as separateobjects. Ask the best social manipulator on Earth to build you anArtificial Intelligence from scratch, and they'd just give you adumb look. You predicted people by telling your brain toact like theirs. You put yourself in their place. If youwanted to know what an angry person would do, you activated yourown brain's anger circuitry, and whatever that circuitry output,that was your prediction. What did the neural circuitry for angeractually look like inside? Who knew? The best social manipulator onEarth might not know what neurons were, and neither mightthe best Legilimens.
Anything a Legilimens could understand, an Occlumenscould pretend to be. It was the same trick either way -probably implemented by the same neural circuitry in both cases, asingle set of control circuits for reconfiguring your own brain toact as a model of someone else's.
And so the race between telepathic offense and telepathicdefense had been a decisive win for defense. Otherwise the entiremagical world, maybe even the whole Earth, would have been a verydifferent place...
Harry took a deep breath, and concentrated. There was a slightsmile on his face.
For once, just once, Harry hadn't gottenshortchanged in the mysterious powers department.
After almost a month of work, and more on a whim than any realhunch, Harry had decided to make himself coldly angry and then trythe book's Occlumency exercises again. At that point he'd mostlygiven up hope on that sort of thing, but it had still seemed wortha quick try -
He'd run through all the book's hardest exercises in two hours,and the next day he'd gone and told Professor Quirrell he wasready.
His dark side, it had turned out, was very, very goodat pretending to be other people.
Harry thought of his standard trigger, from the first time he'dgone over entirely to his dark side...
Severus paused, looking quite pleased with himself. "Andthat will be... five points? No, let us make it an even ten pointsfrom Ravenclaw for backchat."
Harry's smile grew chillier, and he regarded the black-robed manwho thought he was going to read Harry's mind.
And then Harry turned into someone else entirely, someone whohad seemed appropriate to the occasion.
...in a white room, windowless, featureless, sitting before adesk, facing an expressionless man in formal robes of solidblack.
Kimball Kinnison regarded the black-robed man who thought he wasgoing to read the mind of a Second-Stage Lensman of the GalacticPatrol.
To say that Kimball Kinnison was confident of the outcome wouldbe an understatement. He had been trained by Mentor of Arisia, themost powerful mind known to this or any other universe, and themere wizard sitting across from him would see precisely what theGray Lensman wanted him to see...
...the mind of the boy he was currently disguised as, aninnocent child named Harry Potter.
"I'm ready," said Kimball Kinnison in nervous tones that wereexactly appropriate for an eleven-year-old boy.
"Legilimens," said the black-robed wizard.
There was a pause.
The black-robed wizard blinked, as if he'd seen something soshocking that it had been enough to make even his eyelidsmove. His voice wasn't quite toneless as he said, "TheBoy-Who-Lived has a mysterious dark side? "
The heat slowly crept up into Harry's cheeks.
"Well," the man said. His face had now settled back into perfectcalm. "Excuse me. Mr. Potter, it is good to know your advantages,but that is not the same as being wildly overconfident in them. Youmay indeed be able to learn Occlumency at eleven years of age. Thisastounds me. I had thought Mr. Dumbledore was pretending to beinsane again. Your dissociative talent is so strong that I amsurprised to find no other signs of childhood abuse, and you maybecome a perfect Occlumens in time. But there is a considerabledifference between that and expecting to put up a successfulOcclumency barrier on your first attempt. That is merelyridiculous. Did you feel anything as I read your mind?"
Harry shook his head, now blushing furiously.
"Then pay closer attention next time. The goal is not to createa perfect image on your first day of lessons. The goal is to learnwhere your surfaces are. Prepare yourself."
Harry tried to pretend to be Kimball Kinnison again, tried topay more attention, but his thoughts were a little scattered and hewas suddenly aware of all the things he shouldn't be thinkingabout...
Oh, this was going to suck.
Harry gritted his teeth. At least the instructor would beObliviated afterward.
"Legilimens."
There was a pause -
...in a white room, windowless, featureless, sitting before adesk, facing an expressionless man in formal robes of solidblack.
It was their fourth day, on a Sunday evening. When you paid thismuch, you got your sessions any darned time you wanted, never mindthe concept of weekends.
"Hello, Mr. Potter," the telepath said tonelessly, having castthe full suite of privacy spells.
"Hello, Mr. Bester," Harry said wearily. "Let's just get theinitial shock out of the way, shall we?"
"You managed to surprise me?" the man said, now soundingslightly interested. "Well then." He pointed his wand and staredinto Harry's eyes. "Legilimens."
There was a pause, and then the black-robed wizard jerked as ifsomeone had touched him with a cattle prod.
"The Dark Lord is alive? " he choked. His eyes weresuddenly wild. "Dumbledore turns himself invisible and sneaksinto girls' dorm rooms? "
Harry sighed and looked down at his watch. In about anotherthree seconds...
"So," the man said. He hadn't quite recovered his tonelessness."You genuinely believe you're going to discover the secret rules ofmagic and become all-powerful."
"That's right," Harry said evenly, still looking at his watch."I'm that overconfident."
"I wonder. It seems the Sorting Hat thinks you'll be the nextDark Lord."
"And you know I'm trying pretty hard not tobe, and you saw that we already had a long discussion about whetheryou were willing to teach me Occlumency, and in the end you decidedto do it, so can we just get this over with?"
"All right," said the man exactly six seconds later, same aslast time. "Prepare yourself." He paused, and then said, his voicerather wistful, "Though I do wish I could remember thattrick with the gold and silver."
Harry was finding himself very disturbed by how reproduciblehuman thoughts were when you reset people back to the same initialconditions and exposed them to the same stimuli. It was dispellingillusions that a good reductionist wasn't supposed to have in thefirst place.
Harry was in a rather bad mood as he stomped out of hisHerbology class the next Monday morning.
Hermione was seething alongside him.
The other children were still inside, a bit slow to assembletheir things because they were gibbering excitedly to each otherabout Ravenclaw winning the year's second Quidditch match.
It seemed that last night after dinner, a girl had flown aroundon a broomstick for thirty minutes and then caught some sort ofgiant mosquito. There were other facts about what had happenedduring this match, but they were irrelevant.
Harry had missed this exciting sports event due to hisOcclumency lesson, and also having a life.
He had then avoided all conversations in the Ravenclaw dorm,weren't Quieting Charms and magical trunks wonderful. He had eatenbreakfast at the Gryffindor table.
But Harry couldn't avoid Herbology, and the Ravenclaws hadtalked about it before class, and after class, and duringclass, until Harry had looked up from the baby furcot whosediaper he was changing, and announced loudly that some of them weretrying to learn about plants and Snitches didn't grow onanything so could they all please shut up about Quidditch.Everyone else present had given him shocked looks, except Hermione,who'd looked like she wanted to applaud, and Professor Sprout, whohad awarded him a point for Ravenclaw.
A point for Ravenclaw.
One point.
The seven idiots on their idiot brooms playing their idiot gamehad earned one hundred and ninety points forRavenclaw.
It seemed that Quidditch scores added directly onto theHouse points total.
In other words, catching a golden mosquito was worth 150 Housepoints.
Harry couldn't even imagine what he would have to do toearn one hundred and fifty House points.
Besides, y'know, rescuing a hundred and fiftyHufflepuffs, or coming up with fifteen ideas as good asputting protective shells on time machines, or inventingone thousand five hundred creative ways to kill people, orbeing Hermione Granger for the entire year.
"We should kill them," Harry said to Hermione, who was walkingbeside him with an equally offended air.
"Who?" said Hermione. "The Quidditch team?"
"I was thinking of everyone involved in any way with Quidditchanywhere, but the Ravenclaw team would be a start, yes."
Hermione's lips were pursed disapprovingly. "You doknow that killing people is wrong, Harry?"
"Yes," Harry said.
"Okay, just checking," Hermione said. "Let's get the Seekerfirst. I've read some Agatha Christie mysteries, do you know how wecan get her onto a train?"
"Two students plotting murder," said a dry voice. "Howshocking."
From around a nearby corner strolled a man in lightly spottedrobes, his greasy hair falling long and unkempt about hisshoulders. Deadly danger seemed to radiate out from him, fillingthe hallway with improperly mixed potions and accidental falls andpeople dying in bed of what the Aurors would rule to be naturalcauses.
Without thinking about it at all, Harry stepped in front ofHermione.
There was an intake of breath from behind him, and then a momentlater Hermione brushed past and stepped in front of him."Run, Harry!" she said. "Boys shouldn't have to be in danger."
Severus Snape smiled mirthlessly. "Amusing. I request a momentof your time, Potter, if you can tear yourself away from yourflirtations with Miss Granger."
Suddenly there was a very worried look on Hermione's face. Sheturned to Harry and opened her mouth, then paused, lookingdistressed.
"Oh, don't worry, Miss Granger," said Severus's silky voice. "Ipromise to return your beau unmaimed." His smile vanished. "NowPotter and I are about to go off and have a private conversation,just by ourselves. I hope it is clear that you are not invited, butjust in case, consider that an order from a Hogwarts professor. I'msure a good little girl like you won't disobey."
And Severus turned and walked back around the corner. "Coming,Potter?" his voice said.
"Um," Harry said to Hermione. "Can I just sort of go off andfollow him and let you work out what I should say to makesure you're not all worried and offended?"
"No," Hermione said, her voice trembling.
Severus's laughter echoed from around the corner.
Harry bowed his head. "Sorry," he said lowly, "really," and hewent off after the Potions Master.
"So," Harry said. There were no other sounds now but two pairsof legs, the long and the short, padding across a random stonecorridor. The Potions Master was striding quickly but not too fastfor Harry to keep up, and insofar as Harry could apply the conceptof directionality to Hogwarts, they were moving away from thefrequented areas. "What's this about?"
"I don't suppose you could explain," Severus said dryly, "whythe two of you were plotting to murder Cho Chang?"
"I don't suppose you could explain," Harry said dryly,"in your capacity as an official of the Hogwarts school system, whycatching a golden mosquito is deemed an academic accomplishmentworthy of a hundred and fifty House points?"
A smile crossed Severus's lips. "Dear me, and I thought you weresupposed to be perceptive. Are you truly so incapable ofunderstanding your classmates, Potter, or do you dislike them toomuch to try? If Quidditch scores did not count toward the House Cupthen none of them would care about House points at all. It wouldmerely be an obscure contest for students like you and MissGranger."
It was a shockingly good answer.
And that shock brought Harry's mind fully awake.
In retrospect it shouldn't have been surprising that Severusunderstood his students, understood them very well indeed.
He had been reading their minds.
And...
...the book said that a successful Legilimens was extremelyrare, rarer than a perfect Occlumens, because almost no one hadenough mental discipline.
Mental discipline?
Harry had collected stories about a man who routinely lost histemper in class and blew up at young children.
...but this same man, when Harry had spoken of the Dark Lordstill being alive, had responded instantly and perfectly - reactingin precisely the way that someone completely ignorant wouldreact.
The man stalked about Hogwarts with the air of an assassin,radiating danger...
...which was exactly not what a real assassin shoulddo. Real assassins should look like meek little accountants untilthey killed you.
He was the Head of House for proud and aristocratic Slytherin,and he wore a robe with spotted stains from bits of potions andingredients, which two minutes of magic could have removed.
Harry noticed that he was confused.
And his threat estimate of the Head of House Slytherinshot up astronomically.
Dumbledore had seemed to think Severus was his, and there'd beennothing to contradict that; the Potions Master had been "scary butnot abusive", as promised. So, Harry had reasoned earlier, this wasFellowship business. If Severus had been planning harm, surely hewouldn't have come to get Harry in front of Hermione, a witness,when he could have simply waited for some time when Harry wasalone...
Harry quietly bit his lip.
"I once knew a boy who truly adored Quidditch," said SeverusSnape. "He was an utter pillock. Just as you and I would expect, wetwo."
"What is this?" Harry said slowly.
"Patience, Potter."
Severus turned his head, and then glided with his assassin'sbearing into a nearby opening in the corridor walls, a smaller andnarrower hallway leading off.
Harry followed him, wondering if it would be smarter to simplyrun away.
They turned and made another turn, and came to a dead end, asimple blank wall. If Hogwarts had actually been built, rather thanconjured or summoned or birthed or whatever, Harry would have hadsome sharp words for the architect about paying people to buildhallways that didn't go anywhere.
"Quietus," said Severus, and a few other things aswell.
Harry leaned back, folded his arms across his chest, and watchedSeverus's face.
"Looking me in the eyes, Potter?" said Severus Snape. "YourOcclumency lessons cannot have progressed far enough for you toblock Legilimency. But then perhaps they have progressed far enoughfor you to detect it. Since I cannot know otherwise, I will notrisk trying." The man smiled thinly. "And the same will hold forDumbledore, I think. Which is why we are now having thislittle talk."
Harry's eyes widened involuntarily.
"To begin with," Severus said, eyes glittering, "I should likeyou to promise not to speak of our conversations toanyone. So far as the school is concerned, we arediscussing your Potions homework. Whether or not they believe thatis unimportant. So far as Dumbledore and McGonagall are concerned,I am violating Draco Malfoy's confidences in me, and neither of usthink it proper to speak further of the particulars."
Harry's brain tried to calculate the ramifications andimplications of this and ran out of swap space.
"Well?" said the Potions Master.
"All right," Harry said slowly. It was hard to see how having aconversation and being unable to tell anyone could be moreconstraining than not having it, in which case youalso couldn't tell anyone the contents. "I promise."
Severus was watching Harry intently. "You said once in theHeadmaster's office that you would not tolerate bullying or abuse.And so I wonder, Harry Potter. Just how much do you resemble yourfather?"
"Unless we're talking about Michael Verres-Evans," Harry said,"the answer is that I know very little about James Potter."
Severus nodded, as though to himself. "There is a fifth-yearSlytherin. A boy named Lesath Lestrange. He is being bullied byGryffindors. I am... constrained, in my ability to deal with suchsituations. You could help him, perhaps. If you wished. Iam not asking you for a favor, and will not owe you one. It issimply an opportunity to do as you will."
Harry stared at Severus, thinking.
"Wondering if it's a trap?" said Severus, a faint smile crossinghis lips. "It is not. It is a test. Call it curiosity onmy part. But Lesath's troubles are real, as are my own difficultiesin intervening."
That was the trouble with other people knowing you were a goodguy. Even if you knew they knew, you still couldn't ignore thebait.
And if his father had protected students from bullies too... itdidn't matter if Harry knew why Severus had told him. It still madehim feel warm inside, and proud, and made it impossible to walkaway.
"Fine," Harry said. "Tell me about Lesath. Why is he beingbullied?"
Severus's face lost the faint smile. "You think there arereasons, Potter?"
"Perhaps not," Harry said quietly. "But the thought had occurredto me that he might have pushed some unimportant mudblood girl downthe stairs."
"Lesath Lestrange," Severus said, his voice now cold, "is theson of Bellatrix Black, the most fanatic and evil servant of theDark Lord. Lesath is the acknowledged bastard of RabastanLestrange. Shortly after the Dark Lord's death, Bellatrix andRabastan and Rabastan's brother Rodolphus were captured whiletorturing Alice and Frank Longbottom. All three are in Azkaban forlife. The Longbottoms were driven insane by repeated Cruciatus andremain in St. Mungo's incurable ward. Is any of that a good reasonto bully him, Potter?"
"It is no reason at all," Harry said, still quietly. "And Lesathhimself has done no wrong that you know?"
The faint smile crossed Severus's lips again. "He is no more asaint than anyone else. But he has pushed no mudblood girls downthe stairs, not that I ever heard."
"Or saw in his mind," said Harry.
Severus's expression was chill. "I did not invade his privacy,Potter. I looked within the Gryffindors, rather. He is simply aconvenient target for their little satisfactions."
A cold wash of anger ran down Harry's spine, and he had toremind himself that Severus might not be a trustworthy source ofinformation.
"And you think," Harry said, "that an intervention by HarryPotter, the Boy-Who-Lived, might prove effective."
"Indeed," said Severus Snape, and told Harry when and where theGryffindors were planning their next little game.
There is a main hallway running through the middle of Hogwarts'ssecond floor on the north-south axis, and near the center of thishallway there is an opening into a short corridor which goes adozen paces back before turning at a right angle, making anL-shape, and then goes a dozen paces more before it ends at abright, wide window, looking out from three stories above upon thelight drizzle falling over the east grounds of Hogwarts. Standingby the window you can hear nothing of the main hallway, and no onein the hallway would hear what went on by the window. If you thinkthere is anything odd about this, you haven't been in Hogwarts verylong.
Four boys in red-trimmed robes are laughing, and a boy ingreen-trimmed robes is screaming and grabbing frantically onto theedges of the opened window with his hands, as the four boys make asthough to push him out. It's just a joke, of course, and besides, afall from that height wouldn't kill a wizard. All good fun. If youthink there is anything odd about this -
"What are you doing? " says a sixth boy's voice.
The four boys in red-trimmed robes spin around with suddenstarts, and the boy in green-trimmed robes frantically pusheshimself away from the window and falls to the floor, face streakedwith tears.
"Oh," says the most handsome of the boys in red-trimmed robes,sounding relieved, "it's you. Hey, Lessy, you know whothis is?"
There isn't any answer from the boy on the floor, who's tryingto get his sniffling under control, and the boy in the red-trimmedrobes draws back his leg for a kick -
"Stop it! " shouts the sixth boy.
The boy in the red-trimmed robes wobbles as he aborts the kick."Um," he says, "do you know who this is?"
The sixth boy's breathing sounds strange. "Lesath Lestrange," hesays, his breath coming in short pants, "and he didn't doanything to my parents, he was five years old."
Neville Longbottom stared at the four huge fifth-year bullies infront of him, trying very hard to control his trembling.
He should have just told Harry Potter no.
"Why are you defending him?" said the handsome one,slowly, sounding puzzled with the first hints of offense. "He's aSlytherin. And a Lestrange."
"He's a boy who lost his parents," said Neville Longbottom. "Iknow how that is." He didn't know where the words had come from. Itsounded too cool, like something Harry Potter would say.
The trembling went on, though.
"Who do you think you are? " said the handsomeone, starting to sound angry.
I am Neville, the last scion of the Noble and Most AncientHouse of Longbottom -
Neville couldn't say it.
"I think he's a traitor," said one of the otherGryffindors, and there was a sudden sinking sensation in Neville'sstomach.
He'd known it, he'd just known it. Harry Potter had been wrongafter all. Bullies wouldn't stop only because Neville Longbottomtold them to stop.
The handsome one took a step forward, and the three othersfollowed.
"So that's how it is for you," Neville said, amazed at howsteady his voice was. "It doesn't matter to you if it's LesathLestrange or Neville Longbottom."
Lesath Lestrange let out a sudden gasp, from where he was lyingon the floor.
"Evil is evil," snarled the same boy who'd spoken before, "andif you're friends with evil, you're evil too."
The four took another step forward.
Lesath rose, wobbling, to his feet. His face was gray, and hetook a few steps forward, and leaned against the wall, and didn'tsay anything. His eyes were fixed on the turn in the hallway, theway out.
"Friends," Neville said. Now his voice was going up a bit inpitch. "Yes, I have friends. One of them is the Boy-Who-Lived."
A couple of the Gryffindors looked suddenly worried. Thehandsome one didn't flinch. "Harry Potter isn't here," he said, hisvoice hard, "and if he was, I don't think he'd like to see aLongbottom defending a Lestrange."
And the Gryffindors took another long step forward, and behindthem, Lesath crept along the wall, waiting for his chance.
Neville swallowed, and raised his right hand with his thumb andforefinger pressed together.
He shut his eyes, because Harry Potter had made him promise notto peek.
If this didn't work, he was never trusting anyone again.
His voice came out surprisingly clear, considering.
"Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres. Harry JamesPotter-Evans-Verres. Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres. By the debtthat you owe me and the power of your true name I summon you, Iopen the way for you, I call upon you to manifest yourself beforeme."
Neville snapped his fingers.
And then Neville opened his eyes.
Lesath Lestrange was staring at him.
The four Gryffindors were staring at him.
The handsome one started to chuckle, and that set off the otherthree.
"Was Harry Potter supposed to step around the corner orsomething?" said the handsome one. "Aw. Looks like you've beenstood up."
The handsome one took a menacing step forward towardNeville.
The other three followed in lockstep.
"Ahem," said Harry Potter from behind them, leaning against thewall by the window, in the dead end of the hallway, where nobodycould possibly have gotten to without being seen.
If watching people scream always felt this good, Neville couldsort of understand why people became bullies.
Harry Potter stalked forward, placing himself between LesathLestrange and the others. He swept his icy gaze across the boys inred-trimmed robes, and then his eyes came to rest on the handsomeone, the ringleader. "Mr. Carl Sloper," said Harry Potter. "Ibelieve I have comprehended this situation fully. If LesathLestrange has ever committed a single evil himself, rather thanbeing born to the wrong parents, the fact is not known toyou. If I am mistaken in this, Mr. Sloper, I suggest youinform me at once."
Neville saw the fear and awe on the other boys' faces. He wasfeeling it himself. Harry had claimed it would all be atrick, but how could it be?
"But he's a Lestrange," said the ringleader.
"He's a boy who lost his parents," Harry Potter said,his voice growing even colder.
This time all three of the other Gryffindors flinched.
"So," said Harry Potter. "You saw that Neville didn't want youtormenting an innocent boy on behalf of the Longbottoms. Thisfailed to move you. If I tell you that the Boy-Who-Livedalso thinks you are in the wrong, that what you did todaywas a terrible mistake, does that make a difference?"
The ringleader took a step toward Harry.
The others did not follow him.
"Carl," one of them said, swallowing. "Maybe we should go."
"They say you're going to be the next Dark Lord," the ringleadersaid, staring at Harry.
A grin crossed Harry Potter's face. "They also say I'm secretlybetrothed to Ginevra Weasley and there's a prophecy about usconquering France." The smile faded. "Since you're determined toforce the issue, Mr. Carl Sloper, let me make things clear.Leave Lesath alone. I will know if you don't."
"So Lessy snarked to you," said the ringleader coldly.
"Sure," said Harry Potter dryly, "and he also told me what youdid today after you left Charms class, in a private secluded placewhere no one could see you, with a certain Hufflepuff girl wearinga white ribbon in her hair -"
The ringleader's jaw dropped in shock.
"Eep," said one of the other Gryffindors in a high-pitchedvoice, and spun on his heels and ran around the corner. Hisfootsteps rapidly pattered away and faded.
And then there were six.
"Ah," said Harry Potter, "there goes a slightly intelligentyoung man. The rest of you could stand to learn from BertramKirke's example, before you get into, shall we say, trouble."
"Are you threatening to snark on us?" said the handsomeGryffindor, his voice trying to be angry, and rather wavering. "Badthings happen to snarkers."
The other two Gryffindors started slowly moving back.
Harry Potter started laughing. "Oh, you did not just say that.Are you really trying to intimidate me? Me? Nowhonestly, do you think you're scarier than Peregrine Derrick,Severus Snape or for that matter You-Know-Who?"
Even the ringleader flinched at that.
Harry Potter raised his hand, fingers poised, and all three ofthe Gryffindors leaped backward, and one of them blurted "Don't -!"
"See," said Harry Potter, "this is where I snap my fingers andyou become part of a hilariously amusing story that will be toldwith much nervous laughter at dinner tonight. But the thing is,people I trust keep telling me not to do that. Professor McGonagalltold me I was taking the easy way out of everything and ProfessorQuirrell says I need to learn how to lose. So you remember thatstory where I let myself get beaten up by some older Slytherins? Wecould do that. You could bully me for a while and I could let you.Only you remember that part at the end where I tell my many, manyfriends inside this school not to do anything about it? This timewe'll skip that part. So go ahead. Bully me."
Harry Potter stepped forward, his arms opened wide ininvitation.
The three Gryffindors broke and ran, and Neville had to sidestepquickly to avoid getting run over.
There was silence, as their footsteps faded, and then moresilence after that.
And then there were three.
Harry Potter drew a deep breath, then exhaled. "Whew," he said."How are you doing, Neville?"
Neville's voice came out in a high-pitched squeak. "Okay,that was really cool."
A grin flashed across Harry Potter's face. "You werepretty cool too, you know."
Neville knew that Harry Potter was just saying that, trying tomake him feel good, and it still started a warm glow inside hischest.
Harry turned toward Lesath Lestrange -
"Are you okay, Lestrange?" said Neville before Harry could openhis mouth.
Now there was something you didn't expect to find yourselfsaying, ever.
Lesath Lestrange turned slowly, and stared at Neville, his facetight, no longer crying, tears glistening as they dried.
"You think you know how it is?" said Lesath, his voice high andshaking. "You think you know? My parents are inAzkaban, I try not to think about it and they alwaysremind me, they think it's great that Mother is there inthe cold and the dark with the Dementors sucking away her life, Iwish I was like Harry Potter, at least his parents aren't hurting,my parents are always hurting, every second of every day, I wish Iwas like you, at least you can see your parents sometimes, at leastyou know they loved you, if Mother ever loved me the Dementors willhave eaten that thought by now -"
Neville's eyes were wide with shock. He hadn't expectedthis.
Lesath turned to Harry Potter, whose eyes were full ofhorror.
Lesath flung himself on the floor in front of Harry Potter,touched his forehead to the ground, and whispered, "Help me,Lord."
There was an awful silence. Neville couldn't think of a singlething to say, and from the naked shock on Harry's face, he couldn'tthink of anything either.
"They say you can do anything, please, please my Lord, get myparents out of Azkaban, I'll be your loyal servant forever, my lifewill be yours and my death as well, only please -"
"Lesath," Harry said, his voice breaking, "Lesath, I can't, Ican't really do things like that, it's all just stupid tricks."
"It's not! " said Lesath, his voice high and desperate."I saw it, the stories are true, you can! "
Harry swallowed. "Lesath, I set the whole thing up with Neville,we planned it all out in advance, ask him!"
They had, though Harry hadn't said how he was going todo any of it...
When Lesath looked up from the floor his face was ghastly, andhis voice came out in a shriek that hurt Neville's ears. "Youson of a mudblood! You could get her out, you just won't! I gotdown on my knees and begged you and you still won't help! I shouldhave known, you're the Boy-Who-Lived, you think she belongsthere! "
"I can't! " Harry said, his voice as desperate asLesath's. "It's not a question of what I want, I don't have thepower! "
Lesath rose to his feet, and spat on the floor in front ofHarry, and then turned and walked away. When he was around thecorner the sound of his feet sped up, and as they faded Nevillethought he heard a single sob.
And then there were two.
Neville looked at Harry.
Harry looked at Neville.
"Wow," Neville said quietly. "He didn't seem very grateful forbeing rescued."
"He thought I could help him," Harry said, his voice hoarse. "Hehad hope for the first time in years."
Neville swallowed, and said it. "I'm sorry."
"Wha?" said Harry, sounding totally confused.
"I wasn't grateful when you helped me -"
"Every single thing you said before was completely right," saidthe Boy-Who-Lived.
"No," Neville said, "it wasn't."
They simultaneously gave brief sad smiles, each condescending tothe other.
"I know this wasn't real," said Neville, "I know I couldn't havedone anything if you hadn't been here, but thanks for letting mepretend."
"Give me a break," said Harry.
Harry had turned from Neville, and was staring out the window atthe gloomy clouds.
A completely ridiculous thought came to Neville. "Are youfeeling guilty because you can't get Lesath's parents out ofAzkaban?"
"No," said Harry.
A few seconds went by.
"Yes," said Harry.
"You're silly," said Neville.
"I am aware of this," said Harry.
"Do you have to do literally anything anyone asksyou?"
The Boy-Who-Lived turned back and looked at Neville again."Do? No. Feel guilty about not doing? Yes."
Neville was having trouble finding words. "Once the Dark Lorddied, Bellatrix Black was literally the most evil person in theentire world and that was before she went to Azkaban. Shetortured my mother and father into insanity because she wanted tofind out what happened to the Dark Lord -"
"I know," Harry said quietly. "I get that, but -"
"No! You don't! She had a reason for doingthat, and my parents were both Aurors! It's not even closeto the worst thing she's ever done!" Neville's voice wasshaking.
"Even so," said the Boy-Who-Lived, his eyes distant as theystared off into somewhere else, some other place that Nevillecouldn't imagine. "There might be some incredibly clever solutionthat makes it possible to save everyone and let them all livehappily ever after, and if only I was smart enough I would havethought of it by now -"
"You have problems," said Neville. "You think you ought to bewhat Lesath Lestrange thinks you are."
"Yeah," said the Boy-Who-Lived, "that pretty much nails it.Every time someone cries out in prayer and I can't answer, I feelguilty about not being God."
Neville didn't quite understand that, but... "That doesn't soundgood."
Harry sighed. "I understand that I have a problem, and I knowwhat I need to do to solve it, all right? I'm working on it."
Harry watched Neville leave.
Of course Harry hadn't said what the solution was.
The solution, obviously, was to hurry up and become God.
Neville's footsteps moved off, and soon could no longer beheard.
And then there was one.
"Ahem," said Severus Snape's voice from directly behind him.
Harry let out a small scream and instantly hated himself.
Slowly, Harry turned around.
The tall greasy man in the spotted robes was leaning against thewall in the same position Harry had occupied.
"A fine invisibility cloak, Potter," drawled the Potions Master."Much is explained."
Oh, bloody crap.
"And perhaps I have been in Dumbledore's company too long," saidSeverus, "but I cannot help but wonder if that is theCloak of Invisibility."
Harry immediately turned into someone who'd never heard of theCloak of Invisibility and who was exactly as smart asHarry thought Severus thought Harry was.
"Oh, possibly," said Harry. "I trust you realize theimplications, if it is?"
Severus's voice was condescending. "You have no idea what I'mtalking about, do you, Potter? A rather clumsy try at fishing."
(Professor Quirrell had remarked over their lunch that Harryreally needed to conceal his state of mind better than putting on ablank face when someone discussed a dangerous topic, and hadexplained about one-level deceptions, two-level deceptions, and soon. So either Severus was in fact modeling Harry as aone-level player, which made Severus himself two-level, and Harry'sthree-level move had been successful; or Severus was a four-levelplayer and wanted Harry to think the deception had beensuccessful. Harry, smiling, had asked Professor Quirrell what levelhe played at, and Professor Quirrell, also smiling, hadresponded, One level higher than you.)
"So you were watching this whole time," said Harry."Disillusionment, I think it's called."
A thin smile. "It would have been foolish of me to take theslightest risk that you came to harm."
"And you wanted to see the results of your test firsthand," saidHarry. "So. Am I like my father?"
A strange sad expression came over the man, one that lookedforeign to his face. "I should sooner say, Harry Potter, that youresemble -"
Severus stopped short.
He stared at Harry.
"Lestrange called you a son of a mudblood," Severus said slowly."It didn't seem to bother you much."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Not under those circ*mstances,no."
"You'd just helped him," Severus said. His eyes were intent onHarry. "And he threw it back in your face. Surely that isn'tsomething you'd just forgive?"
"He'd just been through a pretty harrowing experience," Harrysaid. "And I don't think being rescued by first-years helped hispride much, either."
"I suppose it was easy enough to forgive," Severus said, and hisvoice was odd, "since Lestrange means nothing to you. Just somestrange Slytherin. If it was a friend, perhaps, you would have feltfar more injured by what he said."
"If he were a friend," Harry said, "all the more reason toforgive him."
There was a long silence. Harry felt, and he couldn't have saidwhy or from where, that the air was filling up with a dreadfultension, like water rising, and rising, and rising.
Then Severus smiled, looking suddenly relaxed once more, and allthe tension vanished.
"You are a very forgiving person," Severus said, still smiling."I suppose your stepfather, Michael Verres-Evans, was the one whotaught it to you."
"More like Dad's science fiction and fantasy collection," saidHarry. "Sort of my fifth parent, really. I've lived the lives ofall the characters in all my books, and all their mighty wisdomthunders in my head. Somewhere in there was someone like Lesath, Iexpect, though I couldn't say who. It wasn't hard to put myself inhis shoes. And it was my books that told me what to do about it,too. The good guys forgive."
Severus gave a light, amused laugh. "I'm afraid I wouldn't knowmuch about what good people do."
Harry looked at him. That was kind of sad, actually. "I'll lendyou some novels with good people in them, if you like."
"I should like to ask your advice about something," Severussaid, his voice casual. "I know of another fifth-year Slytherin whowas being bullied by Gryffindors. He was wooing a beautifulMuggleborn girl, who came across him being bullied, and tried torescue him. And he called her a mudblood, and that was the end forthem. He apologized, many times, but she never forgave him. Haveyou any thoughts for what he could have said or done, to win fromher the forgiveness you gave Lestrange?"
"Erm," Harry said, "based on only that information, I'm not surehe was the main one who had a problem. I'd have told himnot to date someone that incapable of forgiveness. Suppose they'dgotten married, can you imagine life in that household?"
There was a pause.
"Oh, but she could forgive," Severus said withamusem*nt in his voice. "Why, afterward, she went off and becamethe girlfriend of the bully. Tell me, why would she forgive thebully, and not the bullied?"
Harry shrugged. "At a wild guess, because the bully had hurtsomeone else very badly, and the bullied had hurther just a little, and to her that just felt far moreunforgivable somehow. Or, not to put too fine a point on it, wasthe bully handsome? Or for that matter, rich?"
There was another pause.
"Yes to both," said Severus.
"And there you have it," said Harry. "Not that I've ever beenthrough high school myself, but my books give me to understand thatthere's a certain kind of teenage girl who'll be outraged by asingle insult if the boy is plain or poor, yet who can somehow findroom in her heart to forgive a rich and handsome boy his bullying.She was shallow, in other words. Tell whoever it was that shewasn't worthy of him and he needs to get over it and move on andnext time date girls who are deep instead of pretty."
Severus stared at Harry in silence, his eyes glittering. Thesmile had faded, and though Severus's face twitched, it did notreturn.
Harry was starting to feel a bit nervous. "Um, not that I've gotany experience in the area myself, obviously, but I think that'swhat a wise adviser from my books would say."
There was more silence and more glittering.
It was probably a good time to change the subject.
"So," Harry said. "Did I pass your test, whatever it was?"
"I think," Severus said, "that there should be no moreconversations between us, Potter, and you would be exceedingly wisenever to speak of this one."
Harry blinked. "Would you mind telling me what I did wrong?"
"You offended me," said Severus. "And I no longer trust yourcunning."
Harry stared at Severus, taken rather aback.
"But you have given me well-meant advice," said Severus Snape,"and so I will give you true advice in return." His voice wasalmost perfectly steady. Like a string stretched almost perfectlyhorizontal, despite the massive weight hanging from its middle, bya million tons of tension pulling at either end. "You almost diedtoday, Potter. In the future, never share your wisdom with anyoneunless you know exactly what you are both talking about."
Harry's mind finally made the connection.
"You were that -"
Harry's mouth snapped shut as the almost died part sankin, two seconds too late.
"Yes," said Severus, "I was."
And the terrible tension flooded back into the room like waterpressurized at the bottom of the ocean.
Harry couldn't breathe.
Lose. Now.
"I didn't know," Harry whispered. "I'm s-"
"No," said Severus. Just that one word.
Harry stood there in silence, his mind frantically searching foroptions. Severus stood between him and the window, which was a realpity, because a fall from that height wouldn't kill a wizard.
"Your books betrayed you, Potter," said Severus, still in thatvoice stretched tight by a million tons of pull. "They did not tellyou the one thing you needed to know. You cannot learn from storieswhat it is like to lose the one you love. That is something youcould never understand without feeling it yourself."
"My father," Harry whispered. It was his best guess, the onething that might save him. "My father tried to protect you from thebullies."
A ghastly smile stretched across Severus's face, and the manmoved toward Harry.
And past him.
"Goodbye, Potter," said Severus, not looking back on his wayout. "We shall have little to say to each other from today on."
And at the corner, the man stopped, and without turning, spokeone final time.
"Your father was the bully," said Severus Snape, "and what yourmother saw in him was something I never did understand until thisday."
He left.
Harry turned and walked toward the window. His shaking handswent onto the ledge.
Never give anyone wise advice unless you know exactly whatyou're both talking about. Got it.
Harry stared out at the clouds and the light drizzle for awhile. The window looked out on the east grounds, and it wasafternoon, so if the sun was visible through the clouds at all,Harry couldn't see it.
His hands had stopped shaking, but there was a tight feeling inHarry's chest, like it was being compressed by metal bands.
So his father had been a bully.
And his mother had been shallow.
Maybe they'd grown up later. Good people like ProfessorMcGonagall did seem to think the world of them, and it might not beonly because they were heroic martyrs.
Of course, that was scant consolation when you were eleven andabout to turn into a teenager, and wondering what sort of teenageryou might become.
So very terrible.
So very sad.
Such an awful life Harry led.
Learning that his genetic parents hadn't been perfect, why, heought to spend awhile moping about that, feeling sorry forhimself.
Maybe he could complain to Lesath Lestrange.
Harry had read about Dementors. Cold and darkness surroundedthem, and fear, they sucked away all your happy thoughts and inthat absence all your worst memories rose to the surface.
He could imagine himself in Lesath's shoes, knowing that hisparents were in Azkaban for life, that place from which no one hadever escaped.
And Lesath would be imagining himself in his mother's place, inthe cold and the darkness and the fear, alone with all of her worstmemories, even in her dreams, every second of every day.
For an instant Harry imagined his own Mum and Dad in Azkabanwith the Dementors sucking out their life, draining away the happymemories of their love for him. Just for an instant, before hisimagination blew a fuse and called an emergency shutdown and toldhim never to imagine that again.
Was it right to do that to anyone, even the second most evilperson in the world?
No, said the wisdom of Harry's books, not ifthere's any other way, any other way at all.
And unless the wizarding justice system was as perfect as theirprisons - and that sounded rather improbable, all things considered- somewhere in Azkaban was a person who was entirely innocent, andprobably more than one.
There was a burning sensation in Harry's throat, and moisturegathering in his eyes, and he wanted to teleport all of Azkaban'sprisoners to safety and call down fire from the sky and blast thatterrible place down to bedrock. But he couldn't, because he wasn'tGod.
And Harry remembered what Professor Quirrell had said beneaththe starlight: Sometimes, when this flawed world seemsunusually hateful, I wonder whether there might be some otherplace, far away, where I should have been... But the stars are sovery, very far away... And I wonder what I would dream about, if Islept for a long, long time.
Right now this flawed world seemed unusually hateful.
And Harry couldn't understand Professor Quirrell's words, itmight have been an alien that had spoken, or an ArtificialIntelligence, something built along such different lines from Harrythat his brain couldn't be forced to operate in that mode.
You couldn't leave your home planet while it still contained aplace like Azkaban.
You had to stay and fight.
