The note said:
POINTS FOR STYLE: 10
POINTS FOR GOOD THINKING: -3,000,000
RAVENCLAW HOUSE POINTS BONUS: 70
CURRENT POINTS: - 2,999,871
TURNS REMAINING: 2
"
Another note flew over his head.
APPEAL: FAILED
ASKING THE WRONG QUESTIONS: -1,000,000,000,000 POINTS
CURRENT POINTS: -1,000,002,999,871
TURNS REMAINING: 1
Harry gave up. With one turn remaining all he could do was take his best shot, even if it wasn't very good. "My guess is that the game represents life."
A final sheet of paper flew over his head, reading:
ATTEMPT FAILED
FAILED FAILED FAILED
AIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
CURRENT POINTS: MINUS INFINITY
YOU HAVE LOST THE GAME
FINAL INSTRUCTION:
The last line was in his own handwriting.
Harry stared at the last line for a while, then shrugged. Fine. Professor McGonagall's office it would be. If
Okay, honestly, Harry had absolutely no idea how he would feel if Professor McGonagall was the Game Controller. His mind was just drawing a complete blank. It was, literally, unimaginable.
A couple of portraits later - it wasn't a long trip, Professor McGonagall's office wasn't far from her Transfiguration classroom, at least not on Mondays on odd-numbered years - Harry stood outside the door to her office.
He knocked.
"Come in," said Professor McGonagall's muffled voice.
He entered.
Chapter 14: The Unknown and the Unknowable
Melenkurion abatha! Duroc minas mill J. K. Rowling!
"Come in," said Professor McGonagall's muffled voice.
Harry did so.
The office of the Deputy Headmistress was clean and well-organised; on the wall immediately adjacent to the desk was a maze of wooden cubbyholes of all shapes and sizes, most with several parchment scrolls thrust into them, and it was somehow very clear that Professor McGonagall knew exactly what every cubbyhole meant, even if no one else did. A single parchment lay on the actual desk, which was, aside from that, clean. Behind the desk was a closed door barred with several locks.
Professor McGonagall was sitting on a backless stool behind the desk, looking puzzled - her eyes had widened, with perhaps a slight note of apprehension, as she saw Harry.
"Mr. Potter?" said Professor McGonagall. "What is this about?"
Harry's mind went blank. He'd been instructed by the game to come here, he had been expecting
"Mr. Potter?" said Professor McGonagall, starting to look slightly annoyed.
Thankfully, Harry's panicking brain remembered at this point that he
"Um..." Harry said. "If there are any spells you can cast to make sure no one's listening to us..."
Professor McGonagall stood up from her chair, firmly closed the outer door, and began taking out her wand and saying spells.
It was at this point that Harry realised he was faced with a priceless and possibly irreplaceable opportunity to offer Professor McGonagall a Comed-Tea and he couldn't believe he was seriously thinking that and it would be fine the soda would vanish after a few seconds and he told that part of himself to
It did, and Harry began to organise mentally what he was going to say. He hadn't planned to have this discussion
Professor McGonagall finished a spell that sounded a lot older than Latin, and then she sat down again.
"All right," she said in a quiet voice. "No one's listening." Her face was rather tight.
Eh, Harry'd get around to that some other day.
"It's about the Incident with the Sorting Hat," Harry said. (Professor McGonagall blinked.) "Um... I think there's