Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

need to learn how to lose. So you remember that story where I let myself get beaten up by some older Slytherins? We could do that. You could bully me for a while and I could let you. Only you remember that part at the end where I tell my many, many friends inside this school not to do anything about it? This time we'll skip that part. So go ahead. Bully me."

Harry Potter stepped forward, his arms opened wide in invitation.

The three Gryffindors broke and ran, and Neville had to sidestep quickly to avoid getting run over.

There was silence, as their footsteps faded, and then more silence after that.

And then there were three.

Harry Potter drew a deep breath, then exhaled. "Whew," he said. "How are you doing, Neville?"

Neville's voice came out in a high-pitched squeak. "Okay, that was really cool."

A grin flashed across Harry Potter's face. "You were pretty cool too, you know."

Neville knew that Harry Potter was just saying that, trying to make him feel good, and it still started a warm glow inside his chest.

Harry turned toward Lesath Lestrange -

"Are you okay, Lestrange?" said Neville before Harry could open his mouth.

Now there was something you didn't expect to find yourself saying, ever.

Lesath Lestrange turned slowly, and stared at Neville, his face tight, no longer crying, tears glistening as they dried.

"You think you know how it is?" said Lesath, his voice high and shaking. "You think you know? My parents are in Azkaban, I try not to think about it and they always remind me, they think it's great that Mother is there in the cold and the dark with the Dementors sucking away her life, I wish I was like Harry Potter, at least his parents aren't hurting, my parents are always hurting, every second of every day, I wish I was like you, at least you can see your parents sometimes, at least you know they loved you, if Mother ever loved me the Dementors will have eaten that thought by now -"

Neville's eyes were wide with shock. He hadn't expected this.

Lesath turned to Harry Potter, whose eyes were full of horror.

Lesath flung himself on the floor in front of Harry Potter, touched his forehead to the ground, and whispered, "Help me, Lord."

There was an awful silence. Neville couldn't think of a single thing to say, and from the naked shock on Harry's face, he couldn't think of anything either.

"They say you can do anything, please, please my Lord, get my parents out of Azkaban, I'll be your loyal servant forever, my life will be yours and my death as well, only please -"

"Lesath," Harry said, his voice breaking, "Lesath, I can't, I can't really do things like that, it's all just stupid tricks."

"It's not!" said Lesath, his voice high and desperate. "I saw it, the stories are true, you can!"

Harry swallowed. "Lesath, I set the whole thing up with Neville, we planned it all out in advance, ask him!"

They had, though Harry hadn't said how he was going to do any of it...

When Lesath looked up from the floor his face was ghastly, and his voice came out in a shriek that hurt Neville's ears. "You son of a mudblood! You could get her out, you just won't! I got down on my knees and begged you and you still won't help! I should have known, you're the Boy-Who-Lived, you think she belongs there!"

"I can't!" Harry said, his voice as desperate as Lesath's. "It's not a question of what I want, I don't have the power!"

Lesath rose to his feet, and spat on the floor in front of Harry, and then turned and walked away. When he was around the corner the sound of his feet sped up, and as they faded Neville thought he heard a single sob.

And then there were two.

Neville looked at Harry.

Harry looked at Neville.

"Wow," Neville said quietly. "He didn't seem very grateful for being rescued."

"He thought I could help him," Harry said, his voice hoarse. "He had hope for the first time in years."

Neville swallowed, and said it. "I'm sorry."

"Wha?" said Harry, sounding totally confused.

"I wasn't grateful when you helped me -"

"Every single thing you said before was completely right," said the Boy-Who-Lived.

"No," Neville said, "it wasn't."

They simultaneously gave brief sad smiles, each condescending to the other.

"I know this wasn't real," said Neville, "I know I couldn't have done anything if you hadn't been here, but thanks for letting me pretend."

"Give me a break," said Harry.