Eliezer Yudkowsky - Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

"Report," whispered Mr. Hat and Cloak.

"I said just what you told me to," said Blaise. His voice was a little calmer now that he wasn't lying to anyone. "And Professor Quirrell reacted just the way you expected."

The broad black hat tilted and straightened, as though the head below had nodded. "Excellent," said the unidentifiable whisper. "The reward I promised you is already on its way to your mother, by owl."

Blaise hesitated, but his curiosity was eating him alive. "Can I ask now why you want to cause trouble between Professor Quirrell and Dumbledore?" The Headmaster hadn't had anything to do with the Gryffindor bullies that Blaise knew about, and besides helping Kimberly, the Headmaster had also offered to make Professor Binns give him excellent marks in History of Magic even if he turned in blank parchments for his homework, though he'd still have to attend class and pretend to hand them in. Actually Blaise would have betrayed all three generals for free, and never mind his cousin either, but he'd seen no need to say that.

The broad black hat cocked to one side, as if to convey a quizzical stare. "Tell me, friend Blaise, did it occur to you that traitors who betray so many times over often meet with ill ends?"

"Nope," said Blaise, looking straight into the black mist under the hat. "Everyone knows that nothing really bad ever happens to students in Hogwarts."

Mr. Hat and Cloak gave a whispery chuckle. "Indeed," said the whisper. "With the murder of one student five decades ago being the exception that proves the rule, since Salazar Slytherin would have keyed his monster into the ancient wards at a higher level than the Headmaster himself."

Blaise stared at the black mist, now beginning to feel a little uneasy. But it ought to take a Hogwarts professor to do anything significant to him without setting off alarms. Quirrell and Snape were the only professors who'd do something like this, and Quirrell wouldn't care about fooling himself , and Snape wouldn't hurt one of his own Slytherins... would he?

"No, friend Blaise," whispered the black mist, "I only wished to advise you never to try anything like this in your adult life. So many betrayals would certainly lead to at least one vengeance."

"My mother never got any vengeances," said Blaise proudly. "Even though she married seven husbands and every single one of them died mysteriously and left her lots of money."

"Really?" said the whisper. "However did she persuade the seventh to marry her after he heard what happened to the first six?"

"I asked Mum that," said Blaise, "and she said I couldn't know until I was old enough, and I asked her how old was old enough, and she said, older than her."

Again the whispery chuckle. "Well then, friend Blaise, my congratulations on having followed in your mother's footsteps. Go, and if you say nothing of this, we will not meet again."

Blaise backed uneasily away, feeling an odd reluctance to turn his back.

The hat tilted. "Oh, come now, little Slytherin. If you were truly the equal of Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy, you would have already realized that my hinted threats were just to ensure your silence before Albus. Had I intended to harm, I would not have hinted; had I said nothing, then you should have worried."

Blaise straightened, feeling a little insulted, and nodded to Mr. Hat and Cloak; then turned decisively and strode off toward his meeting with the Headmaster.

He'd been hoping to the very end that someone else would show up and give him a chance to sell out Mr. Hat and Cloak.

But then Mum hadn't betrayed seven different husbands at the same time. When you looked at it that way, he was still doing better than her.

And Blaise Zabini went on walking toward the Headmaster's office, smiling, content to be a quintuple agent -

For a moment the boy stumbled, but then straightened, shaking off the odd feeling of disorientation.

And Blaise Zabini went on walking toward the Headmaster's office, smiling, content to be a quadruple agent.

Aftermath: Hermione Granger.

The messenger didn't approach her until she was alone.

Hermione was just leaving the girl's bathroom where she sometimes hid to think, and a bright shining cat leaped out of nowhere and said, "Miss Granger?"

She let out a little shriek before she realized the cat had spoken in Professor McGonagall's voice.

Even so she hadn't been frightened, only startled; the cat was bright and brilliant and beautiful, glowing with a white silver radiance like moon-colored sunlight, and she couldn't imagine being scared.

"What are you?" said Hermione.

"This is a message from Professor McGonagall," said the cat, still in the Professor's voice. "Can you come to my office, and not speak of this to anyone?"

"I'll be there right away," said Hermione, still surprised, and the cat leaped and vanished; only it didn't vanish, it traveled away somehow; or that was what her mind said, even though her eyes just saw it disappear.

By the time Hermione had got to the office of her favorite professor, her mind was all a-whirl with speculations. Was there something wrong with her Transfiguration scores? But then why would Professor McGonagall say not to tell anyone? It was probably about Harry practicing his partial Transfiguration...

Professor McGonagall's face looked worried, not stern, as Hermione seated herself in front of the desk - trying to keep her eyes from going to the nest of cubbyholes containing Professor McGonagall's homework, she'd always wondered what sort of work grownups had to do to keep the school running and whether they could use any help from her...

"Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall, "let me start by saying that I already know about the Headmaster asking you to make that wish -"

"He told you?" blurted Hermione in startlement. The Headmaster had said no one else was supposed to know!

Professor McGonagall paused, looked at Hermione, and gave a sad little chuckle. "It's good to see Mr. Potter hasn't corrupted you too much. Miss Granger, you aren't supposed to admit anything just because I say I know. As it happens, the Headmaster did not tell me, I simply know him too well."

Hermione was blushing furiously now.

"It's fine, Miss Granger!" said Professor McGonagall hastily. "You're a Ravenclaw in your first year, nobody expects you to be a Slytherin."

That really stung.

"Fine," said Hermione with some acerbity, "I'll go ask Harry Potter for Slytherin lessons, then."

"That wasn't what I wanted to..." said Professor McGonagall, and her voice trailed off. "Miss Granger, I'm worried about this because young Ravenclaw girls shouldn't have to be Slytherins! If the Headmaster asks you to get involved in something you're not comfortable with, Miss Granger, it really is all right to say no. And if you're feeling pressured, please tell the Headmaster that you would like me to be there, or that you would like to ask me first."

Hermione's eyes were very wide. "Does the Headmaster do things that are wrong?"

Professor McGonagall looked a little sad at that. "Not on purpose, Miss Granger, but I think... well, it probably is true that sometimes the Headmaster has trouble remembering what it's like to be a child. Even when he was a child, I'm sure he must have been brilliant, and strong of mind and heart, with courage enough for three Gryffindors. Sometimes the Headmaster asks too much of his young students, Miss Granger, or isn't careful enough not to hurt them. He is a good man, but sometimes his plotting can go too far."

"But it's good for students to be strong and have courage," said Hermione. "That's why you suggested Gryffindor for me, wasn't it?"