Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

Classroom.'

Harry twisted his wand in his right hand and said 'Ma-ha-su! '

There was another high-pitched 'bing' from the floating blue sphere that Professor Quirrell had assigned to Harry as his target. That particular sound meant a perfect strike, which Harry had been gotten on nine out of his last ten attempts.

Somewhere Professor Quirrell had dug up a spell that was incredibly easy to pronounce, and had a ridiculously simple wand motion, and had a tendency to hit wherever you were currently looking at. Professor Quirrell had disdainfully proclaimed that real battle magic was far more difficult than this. That the hex was entirely useless in actual combat. That it was a barely ordered burst of magic whose only real content was the aiming, and that it would produce, when it hit, a pain briefly equivalent to being punched hard in the nose. That the sole purpose of this test was to see who was a fast learner, since Professor Quirrell was certain no one would have previously encountered this hex or anything like it.

Harry didn't care about any of that.

'Ma-ha-su!'

A red bolt of energy shot out of his wand and struck the target and the blue sphere once again made the bing which meant the spell had actually worked for him.

Harry was feeling like a real wizard for the first time since he'd come to Hogwarts. He wished the target would dodge like the little spheres that Ben Kenobi had used for training Luke, but for some reason Professor Quirrell had instead lined up all the students and targets in neat orders which made sure they wouldn't fire on each other.

So Harry lowered his wand, skipped to the right, snapped up his wand and twisted and shouted 'Ma-ha-su!'

There was a lower-pitched 'dong' which meant he'd gotten it almost right.

Harry put his wand into his pocket, skipped back to the left and drew and fired another red bolt of energy.

The high-pitched bing which resulted was easily one of the most satisfying sounds he'd heard in his life. Harry wanted to scream in triumph at the top of his lungs. I CAN DO MAGIC! FEAR ME, LAWS OF PHYSICS, I'M COMING TO VIOLATE YOU!

'Ma-ha-su!' Harry's voice was loud, but hardly noticeable over the steady chant of similar cries from around the classroom platform.

'Enough,' said Professor Quirrell's amplified voice. (It didn't sound loud. It sounded like normal volume, coming from just behind your left shoulder, no matter where you were standing relative to Professor Quirrell.) 'I see that all of you have succeeded at least once now.' The target-spheres turned red and began to drift up towards the ceiling.

Professor Quirrell was standing on the raised dais in the center of the platform, leaning slightly on his teacher's desk with one hand.

'I told you,' Professor Quirrell said, 'that we would play a game called Who's the Most Dangerous Student in the Classroom. There is one student in this classroom who mastered the Sumerian Simple Strike Hex faster than anyone else -'

Oh blah blah blah.

'- and went on to help seven other students. For which she has earned the first seven Quirrell points awarded to your year. Come forth, Hermione Granger. It is time for the next stage of the game.'

Hermione Granger began striding forwards, a mixed look of triumph and apprehension on her face. The Ravenclaws looked on proudly, the Slytherins with glares, and Harry with frank annoyance. Harry had done fine this time. He was probably even in the upper half of the class, now that everyone had been faced with an equally unfamiliar spell and Harry had read all the way through Adalbert Waffling's Magical Theory. And yet Hermione was still doing better.

Somewhere in the back of his mind was the fear that Hermione was simply smarter than him.

But for now Harry was going to pin his hopes on the known facts that (a) Hermione had read a lot more than the standard textbooks and (b) Adalbert Waffling was an uninspired sod who'd written Magical Theory to pander to a school board that didn't think much of eleven-year-olds.

Hermione reached the central dais and stepped up.

'Hermione Granger mastered a completely unfamiliar spell in two minutes, almost a full minute faster than the next runner-up.' Professor Quirrell turned slowly in place to look at all the students watching them. 'Could Miss Granger's intelligence make her the most dangerous student in the classroom? Well? What do you think?'

No one seemed to be thinking anything at the moment. Even Harry wasn't sure what to say.

'Let's find out, shall we?' said Professor Quirrell. He turned back to Hermione, and gestured toward the wider class. 'Select any student you like and cast the Simple Strike Hex on them.'

Hermione froze where she stood.

'Come now,' Professor Quirrell said smoothly. 'You have cast this spell perfectly over fifty times. It is not permanently harmful or even all that painful. It hurts as much as a hard punch and lasts only a few seconds.' Professor Quirrell's voice grew harder. 'This is a direct order from your professor, Miss Granger. Choose a target and fire a Simple Strike Hex.'

Hermione's face was screwed up in horror and her wand was trembling in her hand. Harry's own fingers were clenching his own wand hard in sympathy. Even though he could see what Professor Quirrell was trying to do. Even though he could see the point Professor Quirrell was trying to make.

'If you do not raise your wand and fire, Miss Granger, you will lose a Quirrell point.'

Harry stared at Hermione, willing her to look in his direction. His right hand was softly tapping his own chest. Pick me, I'm not afraid...

Hermione's wand twitched in her hand; then her face relaxed, and she lowered her wand to her side.