Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

"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. "Is that clear, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded tightly.

"Good," said Hermione, and leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

The conversation had only just gotten started again when a distant high-pitched yelp floated back to them,

"Hey! No kissing!"

The two fathers burst out in laughter just as the two mothers rose up from their chairs with identical looks of horror and dashed toward the basement.

When the children had been brought back, Hermione was saying in an icy tone that she was never going to kiss Harry ever again, and Harry was saying in an outraged voice that the Sun would burn down to a cold dead cinder before he let her get close enough to try.

Which meant that everything was just the way it should be, and they all sat back down again to finish their Christmas dinner.

Chapter 37: Interlude: Crossing the Boundary

It was almost midnight.