Eliezer Yudkowsky - Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

And that was when Harry knew what was going to happen at the end of this, after the Philosopher’s Stone had been retrieved.

At the end of this, Professor Quirrell was going to kill him.

Professor Quirrell didn’t want to kill him. It was possible that Harry was the only person in the world against whom Professor Quirrell wouldn’t be able to use a Killing Curse. But Professor Quirrell thought he had to do it, for whatever reason.

That was why Professor Quirrell had decided that it was necessary to brew the potion of effulgence the long way. That was why Professor Quirrell had been so easily negotiated into answering these questions, into finally talking about his life with someone who might understand. Just like Lord Voldemort had delayed the end of the Wizarding War to play longer against Dumbledore.

Harry couldn’t exactly recall what Professor Quirrell had said earlier about not killing Harry. It hadn’t been anything straightforward along the lines of ‘I am absolutely not planning to kill you in any way, shape, or form unless you positively insist on doing something stupid’. Harry had been reluctant himself to push the promise too far and insist on unambiguous terms because Harry had already known that he would need to neutralize Lord Voldemort and had expected more precise language to reveal that fact, if they tried to exchange truly binding promises. So there certainly would have been loopholes, whatever had been said.

There was no particular shock to the realization, just an increased sense of urgency; some part of Harry had already known this, and had simply been waiting for an excuse to make it known to deliberation. There had been too many things said here that Professor Quirrell would not reveal to anyone with an expected lifespan measured in more than hours. The overwhelming isolation and loneliness of the life Professor Quirrell had described might explain why he was willing to violate his Rules and talk with Harry, given that Harry was going to die soon and that the world did not actually work like a play where the villain disclosing his plans would always fail to kill the hero afterward. But Harry’s death certainly had to be in those future plans somewhere.

Harry swallowed, controlling his breathing. Professor Quirrell had just added a tuft of horsehair to the potion of effulgence, and that was very late in the potion, if Harry remembered correctly. There weren’t many bellflowers left in the heap to be added, either.

It was probably time to stop worrying so much about risk and play this conversation less conservatively, all things considered.

“If I point out one of Lord Voldemort’s mistakes,” Harry said, “does he punish me for it?”

Professor Quirrell lifted his eyebrows. “Not if the mistake is a real one. I do not suggest that you moralise at me. But I would not curse the bearer of bad news, nor the subordinate who makes an honest attempt to point out a problem. Even as Lord Voldemort I could never bring myself to that stupidity. Of course, there were some fools who mistook my policy for weakness, who tried to thrust themselves forward by pushing me down in their public counsel, thinking me obliged to tolerate it as criticism.” Professor Quirrell smiled reminiscently. “The Death Eaters were better off without them, and I do not advise you make the same mistake.”

Harry nodded, a slight shiver going through him. “Um, when you told me about what happened in Godric’s Hollow, on Halloween night, in 1981 I mean, um… I thought I saw another flaw in your reasoning. A way you could have avoided disaster. But, um, I think you have a blind spot, a class of strategies you don’t consider, so you didn’t see it even afterward—”

“I hope you are not about to say anything stupid along the lines of ‘don’t try to kill people’,” Professor Quirrell said. “I shall be unhappy if that is the case.”

“ Not valuess difference. True misstake, given your goalss. Will you hurt me, if I act the part of the teacher toward you, and teach lessson? Or if misstake is ssimple and obviousss, and makess you feel sstupid? ”

“ No, ” hissed Professor Quirrell. “ Not if lessson iss true. ”

Harry swallowed. “Um. Why didn’t you test the horcrux system before you actually had to use it?”

“Test it?” said Professor Quirrell. He looked up from the brewing potion, and indignation came into his voice. “What do you mean, test it? ”

“Why didn’t you test if the horcrux system was working correctly, before you needed it on Halloween?”

Professor Quirrell looked disgusted. “You ridiculous—I didn’t want to die, Mr. Potter, and that was the only way to test my great creation! What good would it have done to risk my life sooner rather than later? How would I have been better off?”

Harry swallowed a lump in his throat. “ Therewasswayforyoutotesstyour horcrux ssysstem without dying. The general lesson is important. Do you see it now?”

“No,” Professor Quirrell said after a while. The Defense Professor gently crumbled one of the last bellflowers together with a strand of long blonde hair and then dropped it into the potion, which was bubbling brighter, now. Only two more bellflowers remained on the Potions table.

“And I do hope your lesson is a sensible one, for your sake.”

“Suppose, Professor, that I learned how to cast the improved horcrux spell and I was willing to use it. What would I do with it?”

Professor Quirrell answered at once. “You would find some person whom you found morally abhorrent and whose death you could convince yourself would save other lives, and murder them to create a horcrux.” “And then what?”

“Make more horcruxes,” said the Defense Professor. He picked up a jar of what looked like dragon scales.

“Before that,” Harry said.

After a time the Defense Professor shook his head. “I still do not see it, and you will cease this game and tell me.”

“I would make horcruxes for my friends. If you’d ever really cared about one single other person in the entire world, if there’d been just one person who gave your immortality meaning, someone that you wanted to live forever with you—” Harry’s throat choked. “Then, then the idea of making a horcrux for someone else wouldn’t have been such a counterintuitive thought.” Harry was blinking hard. “You have a blind spot around strategies that involve doing nice things for other people, to the point where it stops you from achieving your selfish values. You think… it’s not your style, I suppose. That… particular part of your self-image… is what cost you those nine years.”

The dropper of mint oil that the Defense Professor was holding added liquid to the cauldron, drip by drip.

“I see…” the Defense Professor said slowly. “I see. I should have taught Rabastan the advanced horcrux ritual, and forced him to test the invention. Yes, that is supremely obvious in retrospect. For that matter, I could have ordered Rabastan to try marking himself onto some disposable infant, to see what happened, before I took myself to Godric’s Hollow to create you.” Professor Quirrell shook his head bemusedly. “Well. I am glad I am realizing this now and not ten years earlier; I had enough to chide myself for at that time.”

“You don’t see nice ways to do the things you want to do, ” Harry said. His ears heard a note of desperation in his own voice. “Even when a nice strategy would be more effective you don’t see it because you have a selfimage of not being nice. ”

“That is a fair observation,” said Professor Quirrell. “Indeed, now that you have pointed it out, I have just now thought of some nice things I can do this very day, to further my agenda.” Harry just looked at him.