Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

Potter wouldn't have been scared of the Headmaster. Harry Potter would have just barged ahead doing whatever he was trying to do. Maybe (the thought had come to her) it was worth trying to be like that, not being scared, just doing whatever, and seeing what happened to her, it couldn't really be worse.

The Endless Stair stopped turning.

The great oaken door in front of them with the brass griffin knocker opened without being touched.

Behind a black oaken desk with dozens of drawers facing in every direction, looking like it had drawers set inside other drawers, was the silver-bearded Headmaster of Hogwarts upon his throne, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, into whose gently twinkling eyes Hermione looked for around three seconds before she was distracted by all the other things in the room.

Some time later - she wasn't sure how long but it was while she was trying to count the number of things in the room for the third time and still not getting the same answer, even though her memory insisted that nothing had been added or removed - the Headmaster cleared his throat and said, 'Miss Granger?'

Hermione's head snapped around, and she felt a little heat in her cheeks; but Dumbledore didn't appear annoyed with her at all, only serene, and with an inquiring look in those mild, half-glassed eyes.

'Hermione,' said Professor McGonagall, the older witch's voice was gentle and her hand rested reassuringly on Hermione's shoulder, 'please tell the Headmaster what you said to me about Harry.'

Hermione began speaking, despite her newfound resolution her voice still stumbled a little with nervousness, as she described how Harry had changed in the last few weeks since Fawkes had been on his shoulder.

When she was done there was a pause, and then the Headmaster sighed. 'I am sorry, Hermione Granger,' said Dumbledore. Those blue eyes had grown sadder as she spoke. 'That is... unfortunate, but I cannot say it is unexpected. That is a hero's burden, which you see.'

'A hero?' said Hermione. She looked up nervously at Professor McGonagall and saw that the Transfiguration Professor's face had grown tight, though her hand still squeezed Hermione's shoulder reassuringly.

'Yes,' said Dumbledore. 'I was a hero myself once, before I was a mysterious old wizard, in the days when I opposed Grindelwald. You have read history books, Miss Granger?'

Hermione nodded.

'Well,' said Dumbledore, 'that is what heroes have to do, Miss Granger, they have their tasks and they must grow strong to accomplish them, and that is what you see happening to Harry. If there is anything that can be done to gentle his pathway, then you will be the one to do it, and not I. For I am not Harry's friend, alas, but only his mysterious old wizard.'

'I -' said Hermione. 'I'm not sure - I still want to be -' Her voice stopped, it seemed too awful to say aloud.

Dumbledore closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he looked a little older than before. 'No one can stop you, Miss Granger, if you choose to stop being Harry's friend. As for what it would do to him, you may know that better than I.'

'That - doesn't seem fair,' Hermione said, her voice trembling. 'That I've got to be Harry's friend because he's got no one else? That doesn't seem fair.'

'Being a friend is not something you can be forced to, Miss Granger.' The blue eyes seemed to look right through her. 'The feelings are there, or they are not. If they are there, you can accept them or deny them. You are Harry's friend - and choosing to deny it would wound him terribly, perhaps beyond healing. But Miss Granger, what would drive you to such extremes?'

She couldn't find words. She'd never been able to find words. 'If you get too near Harry - you get swallowed up, and no one sees you any more, you're just something of his, everyone thinks the whole world revolves around him and...' She didn't have the words.

The old wizard nodded slowly. 'It is indeed an unjust world we live in, Miss Granger. All the world now knows that it is I who defeated Grindelwald, and fewer remember Elizabeth Beckett who died opening the way so I could pass through. And yet she is remembered. Harry Potter is the hero of this play, Miss Granger; the world does revolve around him. He is destined for great things; and I ween that in time the name of Albus Dumbledore will be remembered as Harry Potter's mysterious old wizard, more than for anything else I have done. And perhaps the name of Hermione Granger will be remembered as his companion, if you prove worthy of it in your day. For this I tell you true: never will you find more glory on your own, than in Harry Potter's company.'

Hermione shook her head rapidly. 'But that's not -' She'd known she wouldn't be able to explain. 'It's not about glory, it's about being - something that belongs to someone else!'

'So you think you would rather be the hero?' The old wizard sighed. 'Miss Granger, I have been a hero, and a leader; and I would have been a thousand times happier if I could have belonged to someone like Harry Potter. Someone made of sterner stuff than I, to make the hard decisions, and yet worthy to lead me. I thought, once, that I knew such a man, but I was mistaken... Miss Granger, you have no idea at all how fortunate are those like you, compared to heroes.'

The hot burning feeling was creeping up her throat again, along with helplessness, she didn't understand why Professor McGonagall had brought her here if the Headmaster wasn't going to help, and from a glance at Professor McGonagall's face, it looked like Professor McGonagall also wasn't sure now that it had been a good idea.

'I don't want to be a hero,' said Hermione Granger, 'I don't want to be a hero's companion, I just want to be me.'

(The thought came to her a few seconds later that maybe she did in fact want to be a hero, but she decided not to change what she'd said.)

'Ah,' said the old wizard. 'That is a tall order, Miss Granger.' Dumbledore rose from his throne, stepped out behind his desk, and pointed to a symbol on the wall, so ubiquitous that Hermione's eyes had glossed right over it; a faded shield on which was inscribed the heraldry of Hogwarts, the lion and snake, and badger and raven, and in Latin engraved words whose point she'd never understood. Then, as she realized where that shield was, and how old it looked, it suddenly occurred to Hermione that this might be the original -