Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality (105 page)

Harry spun and pulled open the oaken door and stepped onto the staircase and slammed the door behind him.

The stairwell began rotating, Harry began descending, and he put his face in his hands, and began to weep.

It wasn’t until he was halfway to the bottom that he noticed the difference, noticed the warmth still spreading through him, and realized that -

“Fawkes?” Harry whispered.

- the phoenix was still on his shoulder, perched there as he had seen him a few times upon Dumbledore’s.

Harry looked again into the eyes, red flames in golden fire.

“You’re not my phoenix now… are you?”

Caw!

“Oh,” Harry said, his voice trembling a little, “I’m glad to hear that, Fawkes, because I don’t think - the Headmaster - I don’t think he deserves -”

Harry stopped, took a breath.

“I don’t think he deserves that, Fawkes, he was trying to do the right thing…”

Caw!

“But you’re angry at him and trying to make a point. I understand.”

The phoenix nestled his head against Harry’s shoulder, and the stone gargoyle walked smoothly aside to let Harry pass back into the corridors of Hogwarts.

Aftermath, Hermione Granger:

She was just starting to close up her books and put away her homework in preparation for sleep, Padma and Mandy stacking up their own books across the table from her, when Harry Potter walked into the Ravenclaw common room; and it was only then that she realized, she hadn’t seen him at all since breakfast.

That realization was rapidly stomped-on by a much more startling one.

There was a golden-red winged creature on Harry’s shoulder, a bright bird of fire.

And Harry looked sad and worn and really
tired
like the phoenix was the only thing keeping him on his feet, but there was still a warmth about him, if you crossed your eyes you might have thought you were looking at the Headmaster somehow, that was the impression that went through Hermione’s mind even though it didn’t make any sense.

Harry Potter trudged across the Ravenclaw common room, past sofas full of staring girls, past cardgame-circles of staring boys, heading for her.

In theory she wasn’t talking to Harry Potter yet, his week wasn’t up until tomorrow, but whatever was going on was clearly a
whole
lot more important than that -

“Fawkes,” Harry said, just as she was opening her mouth, “that girl over there is Hermione Granger, she’s not talking to me right now because I’m an idiot, but if you want to be on a good person’s shoulder she’s better than me.”

So much exhaustion and hurt in Harry Potter’s voice -

But before she could figure out what to do about it, the phoenix had glided off Harry’s shoulder like a fire creeping up a matchstick on fast-forward, flashing toward her; there was a phoenix flying in front of her and staring at her with eyes of light and flame.

“
Caw?
” asked the phoenix.

Hermione stared at it, feeling like she was facing a question on a test she’d forgotten to study for, the one most important question and she’d gone her whole life without studying for it, she couldn’t find anything to say.

“I’m -” she said. “I’m only twelve, I haven’t
done
anything yet -”

The phoenix just glided gently around, rotating around one wingtip like the being of light and air that it was, and soared back to Harry Potter’s shoulder, where it settled down quite firmly.

“You silly boy,” said Padma across from her, looking like she was deciding whether to laugh or grimace, “phoenixes aren’t for smart girls who do their homework, they’re for idiots who charge straight at five older Slytherin bullies. There’s a reason why the Gryffindor colors are red and gold, you know.”

There was a lot of friendly laughter in the Ravenclaw common room.

Hermione wasn’t one of the laughing ones.

Neither was Harry.

Harry had put a hand over his face. “Tell Hermione I’m sorry,” he said to Padma, his voice almost fallen to a whisper. “Tell her I forgot that phoenixes are animals, they don’t understand time and planning, they don’t understand people who are
going
to do good things later - I’m not sure they understand really the notion of there being something that a person
is
, all they see is what people do. Fawkes doesn’t know what twelve means. Tell Hermione I’m sorry - I shouldn’t have - it just all goes wrong, doesn’t it?”

Harry turned to go, the phoenix still on his shoulder, began slowly trudging toward the staircase that led up to his dorm.

And Hermione couldn’t leave it at that, she just
couldn’t
leave it at that. She didn’t know if it was her competition with Harry or something else. She just couldn’t leave it with the phoenix turning away from her.

She
had
to -

Her mind keyed a frantic question to the entirety of her excellent memory, found just one thing -

“I was going to run in front of the Dementor to try and save Harry!” she shouted a little desperately at the red-golden bird. “I mean, I actually did start running and everything! That was stupid and courageous, right?”

With a warbling cry the phoenix launched itself from Harry’s shoulder again, back toward her like a spreading blaze, it circled her three times like she was the center of an inferno, and for just a moment its wing brushed against her cheek, before the phoenix soared back to Harry.

There was a hush in the Ravenclaw common room.

“Told you so,” Harry said aloud, and then he started climbing the stairs up to his bedroom; he seemed to climb very quickly, like he was very light on his feet for some reason, so that in just a moment he and Fawkes were gone.

Hermione held up a trembling hand to her cheek where Fawkes had brushed her with his wing, a spot of warmth lingering there like that one small patch of skin had been very gently set on fire.

She’d answered the question of the phoenix, she supposed, but it felt to her like she’d just barely squeaked by on the test, like she’d gotten a 62 and she could’ve gotten 104 if she’d tried harder.

If she’d tried at
all
.

She hadn’t really
been
trying, when she thought about it.

Just doing her homework -

Who have you saved?

Aftermath, Fawkes:

Nightmares, the boy had expected, screams and begging and howling hurricanes of emptiness, the discharge of the horrors being laid down into memory, and in that fashion, perhaps, becoming part of the past.

And the boy knew that the nightmares would come.

The next night, they would come.

The boy dreamed, and in his dreams the world was on fire, Hogwarts was on fire, his home was on fire, the streets of Oxford were on fire, all ablaze with golden flames that shone but did not consume, and all the people walking through the blazing streets were shining with white light brighter than the fire, like they were flames themselves, or stars.

The other first-year boys came to bed, and saw it for themselves, the wonder whose rumor they had already heard, that in his bed Harry Potter lay silent and motionless, a gentle smile on his face, while perched on his pillow a red-golden bird watched over him, with bright wings swept above him like a blanket pulled over his head.

The reckoning had been put off one more night.

Aftermath, Draco Malfoy:

Draco straightened his robes, making sure the green trim was straight. He waved his wand over his own head and said a Charm that Father had taught him while other children were still playing in mud, a Charm which ensured that not a single speck of lint or dust would dirty his wizard’s robes.

Draco picked up the mysterious envelope that Father had owled him, and tucked it into his robes. He had already used
Incendio
and
Everto
on the mysterious note.

And then he headed off to breakfast, to seat himself on exactly the same tick of the clock where the food appeared, if he could manage it, so that it would seem like all others had been waiting on his appearance to eat. Because when you were the scion of Malfoy you were first in everything, including breakfast, that was why.

Vincent and Gregory were waiting for him outside the door of his private room, up even before he was - though not, of course, dressed quite as sharply.

The Slytherin common room was deserted, anyone who got up this early was heading straight to breakfast anyway.

The dungeon halls were silent but for their own footsteps, empty and echoing.

The Great Hall was a hubbub of alarm despite the relative few arrivals, some younger children crying, students running back and forth between tables or standing in knots shouting at each other, a red-robed prefect was standing in front of two green-trimmed students and yelling at them and Snape was striding toward the mess -

The noise dimmed a little as people caught sight of Draco, as some of the faces turned to stare at him, and fell quiet.

The food appeared on the tables. No one looked at it.

And Snape spun on his heel, abandoning his target, and headed straight toward Draco.

A knot of fear clutched at Draco’s heart, had something happened to Father - no, surely Father would have told him - whatever was happening, why hadn’t Father told him -

There were bags of fatigue beneath Snape’s eyes, Draco saw as their Head of House came close, the Potions Master had never been a sharp dresser (that was an understatement) but his robes were even dirtier and more disarrayed this morning, spotted with extra grease.

“You haven’t heard?” hissed their Head of House as he came close. “For pity’s sake, Malfoy, don’t you have a newspaper delivered?”

“What is it, Profe-”

“Bellatrix Black was taken from Azkaban!”

“
What?
” said Draco in shock, as Gregory behind him said something he really shouldn’t have and Vincent just gasped.

Snape was gazing at him with narrowed eyes, then nodded abruptly. “Lucius told you nothing, then. I see.” Snape gave a snort, turned away -

“Professor!” said Draco. The implications were just starting to dawn on him, his mind spinning frantically. “Professor, what should I do - Father didn’t instruct me -”

“Then I
suggest
,” Snape said sneeringly, as he strode away, “that you
tell
them that, Malfoy, as your father intended!”

Draco glanced back at Vincent and Gregory, though he didn’t know why he was bothering, of course they looked even more confused than he did.

And Draco walked forward to the Slytherin table, and sat down at the far end, which was still empty of sitters.

Draco put a sausage omelet on his plate, began eating it with automatic motions.

Bellatrix Black had been taken from Azkaban.

Bellatrix Black had been taken from Azkaban…?

Draco didn’t know what to make of that, it was as totally unexpected as the Sun going out - well, the Sun would expectedly go out in six billion years but this was as unexpected as the Sun going out
tomorrow
. Father wouldn’t have done it, Dumbledore wouldn’t have done it,
no one
should have been
able
to do it - what did it
mean
- what
use
would Bellatrix be to anyone after ten years in Azkaban - even if she got strong again, what use was a powerful sorceress who was completely evil and insane and fanatically devoted to a Dark Lord who wasn’t around anymore?

“Hey,” said Vincent from where he was sitting next to Draco, “I don’t understand, boss, why’d we do that?”

“
We
didn’t do it, you dolt!” snapped Draco. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake, if even
you
think we - didn’t your father ever tell you any stories about Bellatrix Black? She tortured Father once, she tortured
your
father, she’s tortured
everyone,
the Dark Lord once told her to Crucio
herself
and she
did it!
She didn’t do crazy things to inspire fear and obedience in the populace, she did crazy things because she’s crazy! She’s a
bitch
is what she is!”

“Oh, really?” said an incensed voice from behind Draco.

Draco didn’t look up. Gregory and Vincent would be watching his back.

“I would’ve thought you’d be happy -”

“- to hear that a Death Eater had been freed, Malfoy!”

Amycus Carrow had always been one of the
other
problem people; Father had once told Draco to make sure he was never alone in the same room with Amycus…

Draco turned around and gave Flora and Hestia Carrow his Number Three Sneer, the one that said that he was in a Noble and Most Ancient House and they weren’t and yes, that mattered. Draco said in their general direction, certainly not deigning to address
them
in particular, “There’s Death Eaters and then there’s Death Eaters,” and then turned back to his food.

There were two furious huffs in unison, and then two pairs of shoes stormed off toward the other end of the Slytherin table.

It was a few minutes later that Millicent Bulstrode ran up to them, visibly out of breath, and said, “Mr. Malfoy, did you hear?”

“About Bellatrix Black?” said Draco. “Yeah -”

“No, about Potter!”

“What?”

“Potter was going around with a
phoenix
on his shoulder last night, looking like he’d been dragged through ten leagues of mud, they say that the phoenix took him to Azkaban to try to stop Bellatrix and he fought a duel with her and they blew up half the fortress!”

“
What?
” said Draco. “Oh, there is just no
way
that -”

Draco stopped.

He’d said that a number of times about Harry Potter and had started to notice a trend.

Millicent ran off to tell someone else.

“You don’t
really
think -” said Gregory.

“I honestly don’t know anymore,” said Draco.

A few minutes later, after Theodore Nott had sat down across from him and William Rosier had gone to sit with the Carrow twins, Vincent nudged him and said, “There.”

Harry Potter had entered the Great Hall.

Draco watched him closely.

There was no alarm on Harry’s face as he saw, no surprise or shock, he just looked…

It was the same distant, self-absorbed look Harry wore when he was trying to figure out the answer to a question Draco couldn’t understand yet.

Draco hastily shoved himself up from the bench of the Slytherin table, saying “Stay behind,” and walked with all decorous speed toward Harry.

Harry seemed to notice his approach just as the other boy was turning toward the Ravenclaw table, and Draco -

- gave Harry one quick look -

- and then walked right past him, straight out of the Great Hall.

It was a minute later that Harry peered around the corner of the small stony nook where Draco had waited, it might not fool everyone but it would create plausible deniability.

“
Quietus
,” said Harry. “Draco, what -”

Draco took the envelope out of his robes. “I have a message for you from Father.”

“
Huh?
” said Harry, and took the envelope from Draco, and tore it open in a rather un-neat manner, and drew forth a sheet of parchment and unfolded it and -

Harry gave a sharp intake of breath.