Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

course of the school year.

Albus Dumbledore said that nobody who knew Hermione Granger would be anything but shocked by these events. That they had, all of them, heard the horror in her voice as she recounted her testimony. And if some unusual madness had temporarily possessed her, then - his voice rising in stern command - she deserved nothing from them except sympathy and a healer's attentions.

And at the last, Albus Dumbledore reminded the Wizengamot, over cries of protest, that the charge was attempted murder and not murder. Albus Dumbledore said, over a rising storm of objections, that no lasting harm had come to anyone. And Albus Dumbledore begged them not to do worse themselves than anything that had yet been done -

"Enough!" bellowed Lucius Malfoy, and a show of hands ended the deliberations. The white-maned man stood tall and terrible, his silver cane held high in one hand like a gavel about to fall. "For what this mad woman has tried to do to my son - for the blood debt that she owes for trying to end the line of a Noble and Most Ancient House - I say that she will -"

"Azkaban!" roared a man with a scarred face, seated at Lord Malfoy's right hand. "Send the mad mudblood to Azkaban!"

"Azkaban!" cried another plum-colored robe, and then another, and another -

A click from the rod in Dumbledore's hand silenced the room. "You are out of order," the old wizard said sternly. "And your proposal is barbaric, beneath the dignity of this assembly. There are things we do not do. Lord Malfoy?"

Lucius Malfoy had listened to this with an impassive face. "Well," Lord Malfoy said after a few moments. A cold gleam lit his eyes. "I had not planned to ask it. But if that is the will of the Wizengamot - then let her pay as any in her place would pay. Let it be Azkaban."

A great cheer of rage went up -

"Are you all lost?" cried Albus Dumbledore. "She is too young! Her mind would not withstand it! Not in three centuries has such a thing been done in Britain!"

"What will the other countries think of us?" said the sharp voice of a woman that Harry recognized as Neville's grandmother.

"Will you guard Azkaban after she goes there, Lord Malfoy?" said a stern old witch that Harry didn't know. "For my Aurors may decline to guard it, I fear, if small children are kept within."

"The deliberations are ended," Lucius Malfoy said coldly. "But if you are incapable of finding Aurors who can obey the vote of the Wizengamot, Madam Bones, you may relinquish the position; we can easily find another to serve in your place. The will of this Hall is clear. For the monstrosity of her crimes, the girl is to be tried as an adult and punished accordingly; ten years in Azkaban, the justice for attempted murder."

When the old wizard spoke again, his voice was lower. "Is there no alternative to this, Lucius? We may retire to my chambers to discuss it, if need be."

The tall man of the long white hair turned, then, to regard where the old wizard stood at the podium; and the two stared at each other for a long moment.

When Lucius Malfoy spoke again his voice seemed to tremble ever so slightly, as though the stern control on it was failing. "Blood calls for repayment, the blood of my family. Not for any price will I sell the blood debt owed my son. You would not understand that, who never had love or child of your own. Still, there is more than one debt owed to House Malfoy, and I think that my son, if he stood among us, would rather be repaid for his mother's blood than for his own. Confess your own crime to the Wizengamot, as you confessed it to me, and I shall -"

"Don't even think about it, Albus," said the stern old witch who had spoken before.

The old wizard stood at the podium.

The old wizard stood at the podium, his face twisting, untwisting -

"Stop it," said the old witch. "You know the answer you must give, Albus. It will not change for agonizing over it."

The old wizard spoke.

"No," said Albus Dumbledore.

"And you, Malfoy," continued the stern old witch, "I suppose all you really wanted this whole time was to ruin -"

"Hardly," said Lucius Malfoy, his lips now twisting into a bitter smile. "No, I have no purpose here but my son's vengeance. I only wished to show the Wizengamot the truth behind this old man's pretended heroism and his praise of that girl - that he would hardly think of sacrificing himself to save her."

"Cruelty worthy of a Death Eater indeed," said Augusta Longbottom. "Not that I'm implying anything, of course."

"Cruelty?" said Lucius Malfoy, the bitter smile still on his face. "I think not. I knew what his answer would be. I have ever warned you that he only plays his pretended part. If you believe in his hesitation, the more fool you. Remember that his answer was the same." The man raised his voice. "Let us vote, my friends. I think a show of hands will suffice for it. I do not imagine there will be many who choose to align themselves with murderers." The voice went cold, on the last note, the promise in it very clear.

"Look at the girl," said Albus Dumbledore. "See her, see the horror you are committing! She is -" The old wizard's voice broke. "She is afraid -"

The Veritaserum must have been wearing off, because Hermione Granger's face was twisting beneath the slackness, her limbs trembling visibly beneath the chains, as though she were trying to run, run from that chair, but was pressed down by weights larger than the enchanted metal links that bound her. Then there was a convulsive effort and Hermione's neck moved, her head twisted, enough to bring her eyes into line -

She looked at Harry Potter and though she didn't speak, it was absolutely clear what she was saying.

Harry