Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality (180 page)

Compared to trying to target a Wingardium Leviosa and Finite Incantatem -
“Then a Stunning Hex would be a better way of dealing with a Hippogriff.” Put that way, it did seem increasingly like a Transfigured rock was an optimal weapon
only
against a flesh-and-blood magical creature with spell-resistant skin. “But… I mean, it might not have
been
intended as a weapon at all, I used it in a strange way, it could have just been a crazy whim -”

“No,” Lucius Malfoy said lowly. “
Not
a whim. Not coincidence. Not Dumbledore.”

“Then it’s him,” Draco said. Slowly Draco’s eyes narrowed, and he gave a vicious nod. “It’s been him
since the beginning.
The court Legilimens
said
that someone had used Legilimency on Granger. Dumbledore
admitted
that it was him. And I bet the wards
did
go off when Granger cursed me and Dumbledore just
ignored
them.”

“But -” Harry said. He looked at Lucius, wondering if it was really to his advantage to question this idea. “What would be his
motive?
Are we going to say he’s evil and leave it at that?”

Draco Malfoy jumped out of his chair and began pacing around the room, black robes swishing behind the young boy, the goblin guards staring at him in some surprise through their enchanted goggles. “To figure out a strange plot, look at what happens, then ask who benefits. Except that Dumbledore didn’t plan on you trying to save Granger at her trial, he tried to stop you from doing that. What would’ve happened if Granger
had
gone to Azkaban? House Malfoy and House Potter would’ve hated each other forever. Of all the suspects, the only one who wants
that
is Dumbledore. So it fits. It
all
fits. The one who really committed the murder is - Albus Dumbledore!”

“Um,” Harry said. “But why give
me
an anti-troll weapon? I said it was suspicious, I didn’t say that it made any sense.”

Draco nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe Dumbledore thought you’d stop the troll before it got Granger and then he could blame Father for sending it. A lot of people would be very angry if they thought Father had even
tried
to do something like that, in Hogwarts. Like Father said, Dumbledore must’ve lost face when people found out that a student had actually died in Hogwarts, being safe is what Hogwarts is famous for. So that part probably wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Harry’s mind involuntarily flashed back to the horror in Dumbledore’s eyes when he’d seen Hermione Granger’s body.

Would I have gotten there in time, if the Weasley twins hadn’t had their magic map stolen? Could that have been the plan? And then, though Dumbledore didn’t know it, somebody stole their map, and I was too late… but no, that doesn’t make much sense, I found out too late, how could Dumbledore have guessed that I’d use a broomstick… well, he did know I had one…

There was no way a plan like that could work.

And it hadn’t.

But someone going a little bit senile might
expect
it to work, and a phoenix might not know the difference.

“Or,” Draco Malfoy continued, still pacing energetically, “maybe Dumbledore had an enchanted troll around, and he expected you to defeat it some other time, for some other plot, and then he used the troll on Granger instead. I can’t imagine Dumbledore had this
all
planned since the first week of lessons -”

“I can imagine,” Lucius Malfoy said in low tones. “I have seen such, from Dumbledore.”

Draco nodded decisively. “Then I was never
supposed
to die in the first plot. Dumbledore knew Professor Quirrell was checking on me, or Dumbledore planned to have someone else find me in time - I couldn’t have testified against Granger if I was dead, and he’d have lost face if I’d died. But my leaving Hogwarts and not being around to lead Slytherin would be just right for him. And then the next time Harry was supposed to stop the troll before it got Granger and everyone was supposed to blame you, Father, only that time it didn’t go the way Dumbledore planned.”

Lucius Malfoy lifted his grey eyes, from where he’d been gazing with open surprise at his son. “If this is true - but I wonder if Harry Potter is only playing at being reluctant to believe it.”

“Maybe,” Draco said. “But I’m pretty sure he isn’t.”

“Then, if it is true…” Lucius Malfoy’s voice trailed off. A slow fury was lighting in his eyes.

“What
would
we do, exactly?” Harry said.

“That, too, is clear to me,” Draco said. He whirled on them and raised a finger high in the air. “We shall find the proof to convict Dumbledore of this crime, and bring him to justice!”

Harry Potter and Lucius Malfoy looked at each other.

Neither of them quite knew what to say.

“My son,” Lucius Malfoy said after a time, “truly, you have done very well this day.”

“Thank you, Father!”

“However, this is not a play, we are not Aurors, and we do not put our trust in trials.”

Some of the light went out of Draco’s eyes. “Oh.”

“I, ah, do have a sentimental fondness for trials,” Harry interjected.
I cannot believe I am having this conversation.
He needed to go home and take a sheet of paper and a pencil and try to figure out whether Draco’s reasoning
actually
made sense. “And evidence.”

Lucius Malfoy turned his gaze to Harry Potter then, and his eyes simmered in pure grey fury.

“If you have deceived me,” Lucius Malfoy said in tones of low anger, “if all this is a lie, then I will not forgive. But if this is not deception… Bring me the proof to convict Dumbledore of this murder before the Wizengamot, or evidence enough to have him cast down, and there is nothing that House Malfoy will not do for you, Harry Potter. Nothing.”

Harry took a deep breath. He needed to sort all this out and figure out the actual probabilities, but he didn’t have
time
. “If it
is
Dumbledore, then removing him from the gameboard leaves a huge hole in Britain’s power structure.”

“So it does,” Lucius Malfoy said with a grim smile. “Did you have ambitions of filling it yourself, Harry Potter?”

“Some of your opposition might not like that. They could fight.”

“They will lose,” Lucius Malfoy said, now with a face hard like iron.

“So this is what I’d want House Malfoy to do for me, Lord Malfoy, if Dumbledore gets removed because of me. When the opposition is most frightened - that’s when they’ll be offered a last-minute arrangement to avoid a civil war. Some of your allies might not prefer it, but there’ll be a lot of neutrals who’ll be glad to see stability. The bargain will be that instead of you taking over right away, Draco Malfoy will take power when he comes of age.”

“
What?
” Draco said.

“Draco has testified under Veritaserum that he tried to help Hermione Granger. I bet there’d be a lot of people in the opposition who’d take a chance on him rather than fight. I’m not sure how exactly you’d enforce it - Unbreakable Vows or Gringotts contracts or what - but there’ll be some sort of enforceable compact about power going to Draco after he graduates Hogwarts. I’ll throw any support the Boy-Who-Lived has behind that bargain. Try to persuade Longbottom and Bones and so on. Our first plan paves the way for that later, if you’re careful to act honorable when you deal with Longbottom and Bones this time around.”

“Father, I
swear
I didn’t -”

Lucius’s face twisted into a grim smile. “I know you didn’t, son. Well.” The white-haired man stared across the mighty golden table at Harry Potter. “Those terms are acceptable to me. But fail in any part of our agreement, whether our first bargain, or the second, and there shall be consequences for you, Harry Potter. Clever words will not halt that.”

And Lucius Malfoy signed the parchment.

Mad-Eye Moody had been staring at the bronze door of the Gringotts meeting room for what seemed like hours, insofar as a man could stare at any one thing when his gaze always saw in all directions.

The trouble with trying to be suspicious of a man like Lucius Malfoy, Moody thought, was that you could spend an entire day thinking of everything he might be up to, and still not have finished.

The door cracked open and Harry Potter trudged out, small beads of sweat still on his forehead.

“Did you sign anything?” Mad-Eye demanded upon the instant.

Harry Potter looked at him silently, then reached into his robes and drew out a folded parchment. “The goblins are already executing this,” said Harry Potter. “They made three copies before I left.”

“MERLIN DAMN IT SON -” Moody paused as his Eye caught sight of the second half of the document as Harry Potter slowly, as though reluctantly, began to unfold the top upward. A glance sufficed to take in the paragraphs drawn in careful handwriting, Lucius Malfoy’s elegant signature below Harry Potter’s. And then Moody exploded, even as the top half of the document also began to enter his Sight. “You
exonerate House Malfoy
of
any involvement in Hermione Granger’s death?
Do you have any idea what you’ve done, you little fool? Why in Merlin’s name would you do something like WHAT -”

Sunday, April 19th, 6:34pm.

Daphne Greengrass walked quietly toward the Greengrass room below the Slytherin dungeons, the privilege of an Ancient House; on her way to drop off her trunk from the Hogwarts Express, before she joined the other students for dinner. The whole private area had been hers alone ever since Malfoy had gone. Her hand, held behind her, made repeated come-along gestures at her huge emerald-studded trunk, which seemed hesitant to follow. Maybe the enchantments on the sturdy old family device needed to be reapplied; or maybe her trunk was reluctant to follow her into Hogwarts, which was no longer safe.

There’d been a long talk between Mother and Father, after they’d been told about Hermione; with Daphne hiding around a doorway to listen, choking back her tears and trying not to make sounds.

Mother had said that the sad fact was that if only one student died every year, well, that still made Hogwarts safer than Beauxbatons, let alone Durmstrang. There were more ways for a young witch to die than being murdered. Beauxbatons’s Transfiguration Master just wasn’t on the same level as McGonagall, Mother had said.

Father had soberly remarked how important it was for the Greengrass heir to stay at Hogwarts where all the other Noble families sent their children to school (it was the reason for the old tradition of the Noble families synchronizing the birth of their heirs, to put them in the same year of Hogwarts, if they could). And Father had said that being heiress to a Most Ancient House meant you couldn’t always stay away from trouble.

She could have done without hearing that last part.

Daphne gulped hard, as she turned the doorknob, and opened the door.

“Miss Greengrass -” whispered a shadowy, silvery-robed figure.

Daphne screamed and slammed the door and drew her wand and turned to run.

“Wait!” cried the voice, now higher and louder.

Daphne paused. That couldn’t
possibly
be who it had sounded like.

Slowly, Daphne turned, and opened the door again.

“You!”
Daphne said in astonishment, as she saw the face beneath the hood. “I thought you were -”

“I come back to you now,” the silvery-robed figure said in a strong voice, “at the turn of the -”

“
What are you doing in my bedroom?
” shrieked Daphne.

“I heard you can cast the mist form of the Patronus Charm. Can I see?”

Daphne stared, and then her blood began to burn. “Why?” she said, keeping her wand level. “So you can
kill
everyone in Slytherin who casts un-Slytherin spells? We all
know
who it was had Hermione killed!”

The figure’s voice rose. “I testified under Veritaserum that I tried to help Miss Granger! I really was trying to help her, when I grabbed her hand on the roof, when I helped her off the floor -”

Daphne kept her wand level. “Like your father couldn’t tamper with the Aurors’ record, if he wanted to! I wasn’t born yesterday, Mister
Malfoy!
”

Slowly, as if not to cause alarm, the silver-robed figure drew a wand from his robes. Daphne’s hand tightened on her own wand, but then she recognized the position of the fingers on the wand, the stance the figure was assuming, and she drew a shocked breath -

“Expecto Patronum!
”

Silver light leapt from the end of the other’s wand - and condensed, forming a shining serpent that seemed to coil in the air as though nesting there.

She just gaped.

“I
did
try to help Hermione Granger,” Draco Malfoy said with a level voice. “Because I know the sickness at the heart of Slytherin’s House, the reason why so many of us can’t cast the Patronus Charm any more, is hate. Hate of Muggleborns, or just anyone really. People think that’s all Slytherin is about now, not cunning or ambition or honorable nobility. And I even know, because it’s obvious if you just look, that Hermione Granger wasn’t weak at magic.”

Daphne’s mind had gone completely blank. Her eyes darted around nervously, just to check that there wasn’t blood coming from under the doors, like the last time Something had Broken.

“And I’ve also figured out,” Draco Malfoy said quietly, as the silver snake went on shining with unmistakeable light and warmth, “that Hermione Granger never really tried to kill me. Maybe she was False-Memory-Charmed, maybe she was Legilimized, but now that she’s been murdered, it’s obvious that Miss Granger was the target in the first place, when somebody tried to set her up for murdering me -”

“D-do-do you know what you’re
saying?
” Daphne’s voice broke. If Lucius Malfoy heard his heir saying that - he’d
skin
Draco and turn him into
trousers!

Draco Malfoy smiled, metallic robes gleaming in the light of his full corporeal Patronus; it was a smile both arrogant and dangerous, like being turned into a pair of leather pants was beneath his concerns. “Yes,” said Draco, “but it doesn’t matter now. House Malfoy is returning House Potter’s money and cancelling the debt.”

Daphne walked over to her bed and then fell on it, hoping she could wake up from the dream once she was in bed.

“I’d like you to join a conspiracy,” said the figure in the shining robes. “Everyone in Slytherin who can cast the Patronus Charm, and everyone who can learn. That’s how we’ll know to trust each other, when the Silvery Slytherins meet.” With a dramatic gesture, Draco Malfoy cast back his hood. “But it won’t work without
you,
Daphne Greengrass. You and your family. Your mother will negotiate it with Father, but I’d like the Greengrasses to hear the proposal from you, first.” Draco Malfoy’s voice lowered grimly. “There is much we must speak of, before we eat dinner.”

Harry Potter had, apparently, taken to being invisible; they’d glimpsed his hand only briefly, when he was handing them the list, written on strange not-parchment. Harry had explained that, all things considered, he didn’t really think it was smart for him to be
findable
except on special occasions, so he was just going to deal with people as a disembodied floating voice from now on, or as a brilliant silver light that hid behind corners where nobody could see it, and which could always find his friends no matter where they tried to hide. It was, in all honesty, one of the creepiest things which Fred and George had ever heard, over a lifetime which had included filling the shoes of every student in second-year Slytherin with Transfigured live millipedes. Fred and George didn’t think this could possibly be good for anyone’s sanity, but they didn’t know what to say. It couldn’t be denied, they’d seen with their own four eyes, that Hogwarts…

…wasn’t safe…

“I don’t know who you went to for the False Memory Charm on Rita Skeeter,” said the sourceless voice of Harry Potter. “Whoever it is… probably
won’t
be able to fill this order directly, but they may know someone who can get things from the Muggle world. And - I know it may cost extra, but as few people as possible should know that Harry Potter is related to this.” Another flash of a small boy’s hand, and a bag hit the ground with the clinking noise. “Some of these items are expensive even in the Muggle world, and your contact may have to go outside Britain; but one hundred Galleons will be enough to pay for it all, I hope. I’d tell you where the Galleons came from, but I don’t want to spoil tomorrow’s surprise.”

“What
is
this stuff?” said Fred or George, as they looked over the list. “Our father is a Muggle expert -”

“- and we don’t recognize
half
this stuff -”

“- why, we don’t recognize any of it -”

“- just what are you planning to
do?
”

“Things have become serious,” Harry’s voice said softly. “I don’t know what I’ll have to do. I may need the power of the Muggles, not just the wizards, before this is done - and I might need it right away, with no time to prepare. I’m not
planning
to use any of this. I just want it around in case of… contingencies.” Harry’s voice paused. “Obviously I owe you more than I can ever repay and you won’t
let
me give you
any
of what you deserve, I don’t even know how to say thank you properly, and all I can do is hope that someday when you grow up you’ll be more sensible about this whole thing and would you
please
take a ten percent commission -”

“Shut up, you,” said George or Fred.

“For God’s sake, you went after a troll for me and Fred had his ribs broken!”

They both just shook their heads. Harry had stayed behind when they’d told him to run, and stepped forward to distract the troll from eating George. Harry was the kind of person, they knew, who’d think that something like that didn’t cancel out what he owed the Weasley twins, that his own deed wasn’t properly commensurate. But what the Weasleys knew, and Harry wouldn’t understand until he was older, was that it meant that nothing was owed, or ever could be owed between them. It was a strange kind of selfishness, they thought, that Harry could understand kindness within himself - never dreaming of asking of money from anyone he’d helped more than they’d helped him, or calling that a debt - while being apparently unable to conceive that others might want to act the same way toward
him
.

“Remind me to buy you a copy of the Muggle novel
Atlas Shrugged,
” the sourceless voice said. “I’m starting to understand what sort of person can benefit from reading it.”

Monday, April 20th, 7:00pm.

It happened without any intervention or sign from the Head Table, as the students had finished their subdued dinner; it happened with no permission or forgiveness asked from the Professors or the Headmaster.

Shortly after the dessert dishes had appeared, a student stood up from the Slytherin Table and calmly made his way, not to the front of the Head Table, but toward the opposite side of the Four Tables of Hogwarts. A few whispers broke out at the sight of the white-blonde short-cropped hair, as Draco Malfoy stood there, silently regarding all of Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy had said almost nothing since his surprise return. The Slytherin had condescended neither to confirm nor deny that he had returned because, with Hermione Granger dead at his family’s hand, he no longer had anything to fear.

Then Draco Malfoy took up a spoon in one hand, and a glass of water in the other, and began tapping, producing a clear ringing sound.

Ting.

Ting.

Ting.

It produced more excited babble at first. At the Head Table, the various Professors looked in puzzlement toward the Headmaster in his great chair, but the Headmaster gave no sign, and so the faculty did nothing.

Draco Malfoy continued tapping the spoon upon his glass, until the room fell silent, waiting.

Then another student arose from the Ravenclaw table, and made his way to where Draco Malfoy was standing, turning to face Hogwarts at his side. Breaths were drawn in surprise; those two should have been the bitterest of enemies -

“I, and my Father, the Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy,” Draco Malfoy said in a clear voice, “have come to realize that there are ill forces at work in Hogwarts. That these ill forces, did wish Hermione Granger harm. That Hermione Granger was perhaps compelled, against her will, to raise her hand against our House; or perhaps she and I were both Memory-Charmed. We now say that whoever dared use the heir of Malfoy so, is the enemy of House Malfoy, upon whom we shall have our vengeance. And that honor be served, we have returned all moneys taken from House Potter, and canceled all debt.”

Then Harry Potter spoke. “House Potter acknowledges that it was an honest mistake, and holds House Malfoy no ill will. We believe and publicly say that House Malfoy was not at fault in Hermione Granger’s death. Whoever harmed Hermione Granger is the enemy of House Potter, upon whom we shall have our vengeance. Both of us.”

Then Harry Potter began to walk back to the Ravenclaw table, and the babble of sheer, utter, reality-crashing bewilderment began to explode -

Draco Malfoy resumed tapping his spoon against his waterglass, creating a clear ringing chime.

Ting.

Ting.

Ting.

And other students arose, from other tables, making their way to where Draco Malfoy stood, arranging themselves at his side, or behind him, or before him.

There was a dread silence in the Great Hall, a sense of the world shifting, of realigning Powers, almost tangible in the air.

“My father, Owen Greengrass, with the consent and full backing of my mother, the Lady of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass,” Daphne Greengrass spoke.

“And my forefather, Charles, of the House of Nott,” said the former Lieutenant Nott, once Theodore of Chaos, now standing behind Draco Malfoy.

“And my grand-aunt, Amelia, of the House of Bones, also Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” said Susan Bones, who stood anext Daphne Greengrass, beside whom she had fought.

“And my grandmother, Augusta, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom,” said Neville Longbottom, who had returned for this one night.

“And my father, Lucius, the Lord Malfoy, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy!”

“Together with Alanna Howe constituting a majority of the Hogwarts Board of Governors!” Daphne Greengrass said clearly. “Have, to ensure the safety of all students, including their own children, passed the following Educational Decrees upon the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

“First!” Daphne said. Daphne was trying to keep her trembling under control, as she faced the Four Houses at the forefront of the five. There was only so far her parents’ lessons in speech-making could take her. Daphne’s eyes darted down quickly to her hand, upon which, written with a quill in faint red ink, cues to her lines had been written. “Students are not to go anywhere alone, not even to the toilets! You will travel in groups of at least three, and every group must have a sixth-year or seventh-year student!”

“Second!” Susan Bones said from behind her, voice almost firm. “To further ensure the students’ safety, nine Aurors have been dispatched to Hogwarts to form an Auxiliary Protective Force!” Susan took a small, round glass object from within her robes, one of the communicators that the DMLE used, which they’d all been given. Susan raised it to her mouth and said, her voice now higher, “Auror Brodski, this is Susan Bones.
Enter!
”