Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

At least Harry had the decency to be ashamed of being good at it.

It was a couple of hours later, and she was in a Hufflepuff study hall with Hannah, Susan, Leanne, and Megan. Professor Flitwick, surprisingly diffident for a teacher, had asked if she might possibly maybe help those four with their Charms homework for a while, even though they weren't Ravenclaws, and Hermione had felt so proud she'd almost burst.

Hermione took a piece of parchment, spilled a little bit of ink on it, tore it into four pieces, crumpled them, and tossed the pieces on the table.

She could have gotten it just from crumpling it, but doing all that made it more like garbage, and that helped when someone was first practicing the Disposal Charm.

Hermione sharpened her ears and eyes, and said, 'Okay, try it.'

'Everto.'

'Everto.'

'Everto.'

'Everto.'

Hermione didn't think she'd quite caught all the problems. 'Can you all try it again?'

An hour later Hermione had concluded that (1), Leanne and Megan were sort of sloppy, but if you asked them to keep practicing something, they would, (2) Hannah and Susan were focused and driven to the point where you had to keep telling them to slow down and relax and think about things instead of trying so hard - it was odd to think that those two would soon be hers - and (3) she liked helping Hufflepuffs, the whole study hall had a very cheerful atmosphere.

When she left for dinner, she found the Boy-Who-Lived reading a book while he waited to escort her. It made her feel flattered, and also a little worried because Harry didn't seem to really talk to anyone besides her.

'Did you know there's a girl in Hufflepuff who's a Metamorphmagus?' said Hermione as they headed toward the Great Hall. 'She makes her hair really red, like stopsign red not Weasley red, and when she spilled hot tea on herself she turned into a black-haired boy until she got it under control again.'

'Really? Cool,' said Harry, sounding a bit distracted. 'Um, Hermione, just to check, you know tomorrow is the last day to sign up for Professor Quirrell's armies, right?'

'Yes,' Hermione said. 'The armies of the evil Professor Quirrell.' Her voice was a little angry, though Harry didn't know why, of course.

'Hermione,' Harry said, his voice exasperated, 'he's not evil. He's a little bit Dark and a whole lot Slytherin. It's not the same as being evil.'

Harry Potter had too many words for things, that was his problem. He would have been better off if he'd just divided the universe into Good and Bad. 'Professor Quirrell called me up in front of the whole class and told me to shoot someone!'

'He was right,' Harry said, his face sober. 'I'm sorry, Hermione, but he was. You should have shot me, I wouldn't have minded. You can't learn Battle Magic if you can't practice against real opponents using real spells. And now you're doing okay in sparring, aren't you?'

Hermione was only twelve, and so she knew, but she couldn't put it into words, she couldn't find the thing to say that would convince Harry.

Professor Quirrell had taken a young girl and called up that girl in front of everyone, and ordered her to open fire without provocation on a classmate.

It didn't matter if Professor Quirrell was right about her needing to learn it.

Professor McGonagall wouldn't ever have done that.

Professor Flitwick wouldn't ever have done that.

Maybe not even Professor Snape would have done that.

Professor Quirrell was EVIL.

But she couldn't find the words, and she knew that Harry would never believe her.

'Hermione, I've talked to older students,' Harry said. 'Professor Quirrell could be the only competent Defense Professor we get in all seven years at Hogwarts. Anything else we can learn later. If we want to study Defense, we have to do it this year. The students who sign up for the extracurricular stuff are going to be learning huge amounts, way beyond what the Ministry thinks first-years are supposed to study - did you know we're going to be learning the Patronus Charm? In January?'

'The Patronus Charm?' Hermione said, her voice going up in surprise.

Her books said that was one of the brightest magics known, a weapon against the Darkest creatures, cast with pure positive emotions. It wasn't something she'd expect the evil Professor Quirrell to teach - or arrange to be taught, since Hermione couldn't imagine he could do the spell himself.

'Yes,' Harry said. 'Students don't usually learn the Patronus Charm until their fifth years or even later! But Professor Quirrell says the Ministry schedules were made up by talking Flobberworms, and the ability to cast the Patronus Charm depends on emotions more than magical strength. Professor Quirrell says that he thinks most students do way less than they can, and this year he's going to prove it.'

There was the usual tone of awed worship that Harry's voice had when he talked about Professor Quirrell, and Hermione gritted her teeth and kept walking.

'I already signed up, actually,' Hermione said, her voice a little quiet. 'I did it this morning. For everything, just like you said.'

In for a penny, in for a pound was the usual expression.