Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

heard. It was possible that most of the Head Table wouldn't see it at all.

This seeming gesture of defiance won sudden smiles from the younger students and Gryffindors, and coldly superior sneers from Slytherin, and frowns and worried looks from all others.

Harry kept his face expressionless. 'Thank you,' he said. 'That's all.'

'Thank you, Mr. Potter,' said the Headmaster. 'And now Professor Snape has something to share with us as well.'

Severus smoothly stood up from his place at the Head Table. 'It has been brought to my attention,' he said, 'that my own actions played a part in provoking the admittedly inexcusable anger of Mr. Potter, and in the ensuing discussion I realized that I had forgotten how easily injured are the feelings of the young and immature -'

There was the sound of many people emitting muffled chokes at the same time.

Severus continued as if he had not heard. 'The Potions classroom is a dangerous place, and I still feel that strict discipline is necessary, but henceforth I will be more aware of the... emotional fragility... of students in their fourth year and younger. My deduction of points from Ravenclaw still stands, but I will revoke Mr. Potter's detention. Thank you.'

There was a single clap from the direction of Gryffindor and faster than lightning Severus's wand was in his hand and 'Quietus!' silenced the offender.

'I will still demand discipline and respect in all my classes,' Severus said coldly, 'and anyone who trifles with me will regret it.'

He sat down.

'Thank you too!' Headmaster Dumbledore said cheerfully. 'Carry on!'

And Harry, still expressionless, began to walk back to his seat in Ravenclaw.

There was an explosion of conversation. Two words were clearly identifiable in the beginning. The first was an initial 'What -' beginning many different sentences such as 'What just happened -' and 'What the hell -' The second was 'Scourgify!' as students cleaned up the dropped food and spit-out drinks from themselves, the tablecloth, and each other.

Some students were weeping openly. So was Professor Sprout.

At the Gryffindor table, where a cake waited with fifty-one unlit candles, Fred whispered, 'I think we may be out of our league here, George.'

And from that day onward, no matter what Hermione tried to tell anyone, it would be an accepted legend of Hogwarts that Harry Potter could make absolutely anything happen by snapping his fingers.

Chapter 19: Delayed Gratification

Blood for the blood god! Skulls for J. K. Rowling!

Draco had a stern expression on his face, and his green-trimmed robes somehow looked far more formal, serious, and well-turned-out than the same exact robes as worn by the two boys behind him.

'Talk,' said Draco.

'Yeah! Talk!'

'You heard da boss! Talk!'

'You two, on the other hand, shut up.'

The last session of classes on Friday was about to start, in that vast auditorium where all four Houses learned Defense, er, Battle Magic.

The last session of classes on Friday.

Harry was hoping that this class would be non-stressful, and that the brilliant Professor Quirrell would realize this was perhaps not the best time to single out Harry for anything. Harry had recovered a little, but...

...but just in case, it was probably best to get in a bit of stress relief first.

Harry leaned back in his chair and bestowed a look of great solemnity upon Draco and his minions.

'You ask, what is our aim?' Harry declaimed. 'I can answer in one word. It is victory. Victory at all costs - Victory in spite of all terrors - Victory, however long and hard the road may be, for without victory there is no -'

'Talk about Snape,' Draco hissed. 'What did you do?'

Harry wiped away the fake solemnity and gave Draco a more serious look.

'You saw it,' Harry said. 'Everyone saw it. I snapped my fingers.'

'Harry! Stop teasing me!'

So he'd been promoted to Harry now. Interesting. And in fact Harry was fairly sure that he was meant to notice that, and feel bad if he didn't respond somehow...

Harry tapped his ears and gave a significant glance at the minions.

'They won't talk,' said Draco.

'Draco,' Harry said, 'I'm going to be one hundred percent honest here and say that yesterday I was not particularly impressed with Mr. Goyle's cunning.'

Mr. Goyle winced.

'Me neither,' said Draco. 'I explained to him that I ended up owing you a favor because of it.' (Mr. Goyle winced again.) 'But there is a big difference between that sort of mistake and being indiscreet. That really is something they've been trained from childhood to understand.'