Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

Hermione had said yes, with an apparently genuine smile.

Harry had managed, with some effort, to stop himself from icily pointing out that Professor McGonagall would never show favoritism to any Hogwarts student, and that Hermione was getting lots of points because she'd earned every, single, one.

At another point, Leo Granger had offered the table his opinion that Hermione was very smart and could have gone to medical school and become a dentist, if not for the whole witch business.

Hermione had smiled again, and a quick glance had prevented Harry from suggesting Hermione might also have been an internationally famous scientist, and asking whether that thought would've occurred to the Grangers if they'd had a son instead of a daughter, or if it was unacceptable either way for their offspring to do better than them.

But Harry was rapidly reaching his boiling point.

And becoming a lot more appreciative of the fact that his own father had always done everything he could to support Harry's development as a prodigy and always encouraged him to reach higher and never belittled a single one of his accomplishments, even if a child prodigy was still just a child. Was this the sort of household he could have ended up in, if Mum had married Vernon Dursley?

Harry was doing what he could, though.

'And she's really beating you in all your classes except broomstick riding and Transfiguration?' said Professor Michael Verres-Evans.

'Yes,' Harry said with forced calm, as he cut himself another bite of Christmas Eve turkey. 'By solid margins, in most of them.' There were other circumstances under which Harry would have been more reluctant to admit that, which was why he hadn't gotten around to telling his father until now.

'Hermione has always been quite good in school,' said Dr. Leo Granger in a satisfied tone.

'Harry competes at the national level!' said Professor Michael Verres-Evans.

'Dear!' said Petunia.

Hermione was giggling, and that wasn't making Harry feel any better about her situation. It didn't seem to bother Hermione and that bothered Harry.

'I'm not embarrassed to lose to her, Dad,' Harry said. Right at this moment he wasn't. 'Did I mention that she memorized all her schoolbooks before the first day of class? And yes, I tested it.'

'Is that, ah, usual for her?' Professor Verres-Evans said to the Grangers.

'Oh, yes, Hermione's always memorizing things,' said Dr. Roberta Granger with a cheerful smile. 'She knows every recipe in all my cookbooks by heart. I miss her every time I make dinner.'

Judging by the look on his father's face, Dad was feeling at least some of what Harry felt.

'Don't worry, Dad,' Harry said, 'she's getting all the advanced material she can take, now. Her teachers at Hogwarts know she's smart, unlike her parents!'

His voice had risen on the last three words, and even as all faces turned to stare at him and Hermione kicked him again, Harry knew that he'd blown it, but it was too much, just way too much.

'Of course we know she's smart,' said Leo Granger, starting to look offended at the child who'd had the temerity to raise his voice at their dinner table.

'You don't have the tiniest idea,' said Harry, the ice now leaking into his voice. 'You think she reads a lot of books and it's cute, right? You see a perfect report card and you think it's good that she's doing well in class. Your daughter is the most talented witch of her generation and the brightest star of Hogwarts, and someday, Dr. and Dr. Granger, the fact that you were her parents will be the only reason that history remembers you!'

Hermione, who had calmly got up from her seat and walked around the table, chose that moment to grab Harry's shirt by the shoulder and pull him out of his chair. Harry let himself be pulled, but as Hermione dragged him away, he said, raising his voice even louder, 'It is entirely possible that in a thousand years, the fact that Hermione Granger's parents were dentists will be the only reason anyone remembers dentistry!'

Roberta stared at where her daughter had just dragged the Boy-Who-Lived out of the room with a patient look upon her young face.

'I'm terribly sorry,' said Professor Verres with an amused smile. 'But please don't worry, Harry always talks like that. Aren't they just like a married couple already?'

The frightening thing was that they were.

Harry had been expecting a rather severe lecture from Hermione.

But after Hermione pulled them into the basement access and closed the door behind them, she'd turned around -

- and was smiling, genuinely so far as Harry could tell.

'Please don't, Harry,' she said in a soft voice. 'Even though it's very nice of you. Everything's fine.'

Harry just looked at her. 'How can you stand it?' he said. He had to keep his voice quiet, they didn't want the parents to hear, but it rose in pitch if not in volume. 'How can you stand it?'

Hermione shrugged, and said, 'Because that's the way parents should be?'

'No,' Harry said, his voice low and intense, 'it's not, my father never puts me down - well, he does, but never like that -'

Hermione held up a single finger, and Harry waited, watching her search for words. It took her a while before she said, 'Harry... Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick like me because I'm the most talented witch of my generation and the brightest star of Hogwarts. And Mum and Dad don't know that, and you'll never be able to tell them, but they love me anyway. Which means that everything is just the way it should be, at Hogwarts and at home. And since they're my parents, Mr. Potter, you don't get to argue.' She was once again smiling her mysterious smile from dinnertime, and looking at Harry very fondly.