Chapter Nine: Morality, part 1

Flaming out of Dumbledore's office without any particular destination in mind, Harry was somewhat surprised to find himself in the underground harbour. He shot Bentham a questioning look, which was met with one of Bentham's unmistakeable are-you-stupid looks.

"We need to talk," said Hermione. "Bentham knows that."

Harry nodded, eyes distant as he looped the chain of his Time-Turner around Hermione's neck and spun the device three times. That done, he snapped abruptly into focus.

"Yes," he said, "we need to talk. However, I see this quickly becoming a habit - I think we need to make more permanent arrangements. I think we're pretty safe right now, so let's take the chance and work as we talk. Also, remind me to talk to Professor McGonagall as soon as possible - we need to get you onto 30-hour days like me."

Hermione wasn't quite sure what Harry had in mind, but she nodded anyway - his Oath to follow her morality had finally convinced her that she really could trust this boy. She watched bemusedly as he cast Bubble-Head charms on both of them, and then as he pressed his wand against the rock wall opposite where they had previously talked. She stepped back in some surprise when he waved her back with his spare hand, but knew better than to argue with him. Perhaps 30 seconds later, Harry began to pull with one hand at a small fissure in the sheer rock face. To Hermione's astonishment, a section perhaps 2 metres high and a metre wide (but only a few centimetres thick) slowly fell away at his touch. It came down like a drawbridge, as Harry (using both muscle and magic) managed to lower it fairly gently to the sand. He pulled it a few centimetres away as he did, and then when it was on the sand he casually waved his wand at it and then at the shallow depression left in the wall of the cavern.

"Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres, what in Merlin's name did you just do and how?"

He turned to her and grinned impudently. "Partial transfiguration - I transfigured a thin layer of rock into motor oil. Technically that's against the rules, but it is safe and there's really no way around it. Note that I did cast Bubble Head on both of us, I did keep you well clear, and I did cancel the transfiguration as soon as I could."

Hermione consciously fought her temper down, and after a few moments' thought she decided that he hadn't actually done anything horribly stupid and dangerous. She nodded but said nothing.

"Bentham," said Harry, "if I do the same trick with a larger block of stone, can you carry it to the middle of this cavern for a moment and then drop it in some ocean somewhere?"

Bentham indicated assent, though neither Harry nor Hermione could have explained exactly how he did so or how they understood him. And thus began the process of hollowing out a secret hideaway for the two of them. Harry and Bentham removed block after block of stone, Bentham holding each one aloft in the cavern for a moment so that Harry could cancel his transfiguration before the block was dropped in the ocean (a different place each time, though Harry and Hermione had to trust Bentham on that point). Meanwhile, as Harry worked and Hermione stood awkwardly out of the way, they talked.

"Harry," said Hermione, "something still doesn't make sense to me. If you're right and I really didn't do anything to Draco Malfoy, if I really was framed, then who framed me? And why did they do it?"

"Good question. Let me think about that for a few minutes, and I'll see what I can do with the information I have now."

She nodded, and they shared a silence for long minutes as Harry and Bentham continued to remove stone from what would be their secret place. When Harry finally spoke, his voice held sadness and even embarrassment rather than the triumph she had expected from him.

"You were right all along, Hermione, and I'm sorry. I think it was Quirrell, and I think you and I are both in serious danger."

She stared at him, dismayed, but didn't interrupt. There was no way he would say that and then not explain, not with her.

"Well, for a start he's the obvious suspect. Questionable morality, unknown goals, extremely intelligent, frighteningly powerful, and coincidentally the person who discovered Draco after the alleged duel. All of that isn't proof, but it's reason enough to promote him to our attention - from a rationalist perspective, it makes him a legitimate suspect."

"That makes sense so far. Go on."

Harry glanced at his watch, and frowned.

"In a moment. Give me a hand putting this stone back over the hole, before our earlier selves show up for a chat."

They needed Bentham's help also, in the end, but they managed to return the slab to its initial place. Harry had quickly transfigured a very thin layer of rock into motor oil around the edges of the slab and of the hole, so the stone was once more a part of the wall once he'd canceled that transfiguration - the boundary might contain some oddities on a microscopic scale, but for practical purposes the rock was properly joined. After looking around carefully to make sure that they had left no signs of their presence (Hermione muttered a spell to smooth their footprints from the sand), they flamed into the new space - it wasn't even fully hollowed out yet, but there was enough space for them to work in as they made it bigger.

Immediately behind the rock wall of the harbour cavern was a simple tunnel, two metres high and a metre wide, running four metres deep before it opened out abruptly into a much larger cavern. This was currently four metres high, and mostly about four metres in the other dimensions also (though it wasn't entirely hollowed out yet). Hermione cast "Lumos maxima!" for a floating globe that they could see by - unlike in the harbour cavern, there were no ancient magical torches here. Meanwhile, Harry separated a long block of stone and Bentham teleported it to fill the entire entrance tunnel seamlessly - Hermione wondered briefly why they'd gone to the extra effort of teleporting the stone rather than pushing it into position, before remembering about pistons and about how physics said the air had to go somewhere (whereas magic didn't care).

"We're safe now," said Harry cheerfully. "We're behind at least four continuous metres of real unbroken stone in every direction, and even now there should be no magical residue on anything out there - after all, I canceled all my transfigurations."

"There'll be traces on the sand," said Hermione worriedly, "remember I smoothed that out."

"True, but anyone who found that would just think someone had used the harbour and then covered their tracks - they'd never think to look four metres deep in a random part of the wall just because someone had smoothed the sand out."

Hermione nodded as Harry, freed from the constraints of the entrance tunnel and finally starting to remember just what a phoenix could do, began to transfigure a block that included half of the floor - Hermione couldn't see this directly, of course, but to a mind like hers it was obvious enough from Harry's position and body language. As he continued working to hollow out a much larger space, they resumed their earlier conversation.

"So," she said, "tell me more about why you now suspect Professor Quirrell."

"Well," said Harry, "it's not so much a matter of suspecting anymore. I'm pretty sure it was him, though he really didn't intend it to work out quite the way it did. Um...

"Well, for a start we've got the obvious things. He has the means: he's physically, magically and morally capable of it. There's no real question about any of that, and I struggle to think of anyone else who's even a plausible option there. Snape would have had to deceive Quirrell if it was him, and I don't think he could. Anyway... Quirrell also had the opportunity, definitely. He lives here in the castle, he was in charge of the battle where you humiliated Draco, and he was the person who supposedly found Draco in the trophy room. That last point on its own is pretty strong, because if it was anyone else, they'd have had to trick him. And, as I said, that's really not an easy thing to do.

"Mind you, I knew all of this already, even if I hadn't really thought about how anyone else would have had to trick Quirrell. But anyway, the bit that I couldn't figure out was motive. The likely outcome of this plot was you tortured to death in Azkaban. I suppose he could have wanted me to destroy Azkaban to get you out, which technically is more or less what happened anyway... Actually, he probably did think of that as a fallback plan at least - he is smarter than me, after all. Anyway, the motive that really makes sense to me is exactly what you've been telling me all along - in your words, he's sucking me into the darkness. He wants me to rule Britain - he's told me that outright and he also said that Draco had figured it out - but the Harry Potter that he wants in charge of Britain is not the person that you want me to be. You're a huge threat to his plans for me, because you're a moral compass that he doesn't want me to have. He needed you out of the way, but he didn't want it to look like an attack on you - that'd make him too much of an obvious suspect. So he made it an attack on Draco, by you, which ultimately rebounded onto you. In his plan, everyone would have just believed you were guilty - even you. The only reason that didn't work is that I flatly refused to believe it, and I was smart enough and stubborn enough and frankly lucky enough to figure out how it was even possible that you weren't guilty. He doesn't understand love, Hermione, he really doesn't - he never would have expected me to be so sure you wouldn't do that, and so he can't have realised that I'd figure it out. I don't think he expected Dumbledore to even let me go to the trial, and I'm sure he never expected me to do what I did - no one predicted that, least of all me. But that's not not the point, really -the real differences between reality now and his intended outcome are that you're not in Azkaban right now, and that we know it was him. Well, that and I suddenly have political power - didn't plan for that, but oh well. Same with having Bentham here... Actually that's unfair, Bentham is a huge and wonderful game-changer. Bluntly, Bentham is the main reason we even stand a chance against Quirrell."

"Stand a chance? You mean you want us to fight Professor Quirrell?" Hermione stared at him.

Harry nodded grimly. "Hermione, I don't think we have a choice. He wants you out of my life, and he's demonstrated that he's willing to destroy you to achieve that. We're nowhere near strong enough to defend ourselves effectively against him, so I think our only chance is to figure out some clever way to neutralise him first. And since he's smarter and more powerful than us, that probably has to mean killing him. I'm open to drawing on whatever resources we can, and honestly I really hope we can get help from someone like Dumbledore or Flitwick. Not actually Dumbledore, though, because I can't imagine him ever agreeing with killing anyone."

Harry broke off, aware that Hermione had backed away from him.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Hermione threw up her hands in despair. "Harry, you're talking about murdering a professor. And you ask if you've said something wrong! Harry, do you really think I'm a murderess?"

Harry sighed. "Hermione, yesterday I was very nearly the only person in our entire world who didn't think that - even you did. I know you're a good person - that's not even a question. You're a better person than me, and probably the best person I've ever met - that's why I just made an Unbreakable Vow to be bound by your morality, for crying out loud. I'm suggesting this purely in self-defence, because I can't lose you. Someone's going to die or go away, whether it's you or Quirrell, and I can't let it be you.

I mean, look, it's not quite that simple for me - it'll also hurt me quite a lot to lose Quirrell, just like it's already hurt me a lot to lose my trust in him. But more importantly, this is the right thing to do. You represent everything that's right with this world, Hermione - you're the 3% or whatever who resisted in the Milgram experiment. You're the light that Quirrell doesn't even believe exists - I didn't think quickly enough to tell him that at the time, but he stated as simple fact that literally no one is actually good."

"He really said that?"

"He really said that. He called me an idiot for doubting it, and assured me that I'd agree with him once everyone I ever trusted had betrayed me. Again, he was just stating this stuff as simple fact - in his mind it's not even slightly in question, and he thinks I'm terribly naive for even doubting it. So... Surely you can see why, given a choice between a world without Professor Quirrell and a world without Hermione Granger, I don't even have a choice to make? Besides, it's pretty clear by now that Quirrell's the next Dark Lord, or more precisely he's grooming me as the next Dark Lord - by thwarting him we save thousands of lives, and killing him is probably our only option for that. Plus, if it makes you feel any better, he'll be dead before we start second year anyway - there's nothing we can do about that."

"He what? Harry, I know there's supposed to be a curse on the Defence position here, but how can you possibly know what will actually happen and when? What do you know that I don't?"

"That zombie state he goes into, Hermione. It's getting worse, I'm sure of it. I think that's what's going to kill him - well, if we don't kill him first, anyway."

"Well OK, at least that's plausible. But Harry, how do you know anything at all about when that will happen?"

Harry looked smug. "My first wish, after that ridiculous battle in the lake. You know, the one Quirrell said was impossible? I just wished for him to teach us again next year. And remember, he dismissed that as impossible, but then he had no problem accepting two wishes that were mutually exclusive. So when he said impossible, he must have really meant impossible."

Hermione stumbled away from Harry a few paces and slid down a wall. Why couldn't things be simple, right and wrong, black and white? She had always been able to figure out what was right, but here everything seemed wrong. It wasn't just a question of breaking rules or going against authority - she'd learned that lesson when Professor Snape broke her and destroyed SPHEW. Authority and the right thing didn't always go together. But there was always a right thing to do, she believed that passionately, and now she was in a situation where every option was wrong. Even if she didn't really passionately want to live, which of course she did, but even if she didn't, she could see that it wasn't right to let Quirrell kill her. Quirrell was a bad person - even Harry realised that now. But could that make it right for her to kill him? Could she bring herself to do that? That wasn't just a rule that she obeyed because of authority - killing went totally against who she was as a person. Her thoughts, her moral rules, were internally inconsistent - they couldn't possibly all make sense together. Something had to give.

Something gave.

Just as she had in the Great Hall in front of Professor Snape, she felt something inside her breaking. Another piece of her innocence, her childhood - another of the pillars which made the world make sense to her, made the world a place that she could navigate. And once again she'd found that the real world just didn't quite fit into her ideal of it. She felt tears on her cheeks, and dashed them away angrily with both hands.

"How do you do it, Harry? How do you live in a world of greys, with no clear black and white anywhere?"

Harry looked over at her in surprise. He paused, wise enough to weigh his words carefully before he answered such a question. But then, this was something to which he had given quite a lot of thought.

"It doesn't usually feel like this, Hermione. In practice, day to day I mostly run on rules just like you. The only real difference is that my day-to-day rules are really just guidelines - if something's important enough and I have a good enough reason, then I can change my rules or make an exception. Of course, the more important the rule, the better the reason has to be - I wouldn't consider making an exception and killing Ron Weasley just because he was being particularly annoying that day, for instance. Um... sorry, bad example. But seriously, most of the time I don't actually stop and do utility calculations in my head to decide what to do - I don't have the spare brainpower for that. No one does. It's just that I do try to stop and think things through if something's important enough and I have time. And I don't expect any rigid set of rules to be able to deal with the real world, because that's just never going to work. Life is too complex for that. Honestly, I just do the best I can. It's not perfect, but I haven't found a better option yet."

"What's your anchor? I mean, what stops you from just drifting, gradually losing track of right and wrong?"

"Fundamentally, I care about people. I care about the world. I hate suffering. Everything comes back to that."

"But couldn't you change? Couldn't you start to care less about people, if you saw more of their bad side? Couldn't you find ways to ensure that you'd be fine even if the world got worse? Can't you already talk yourself into justifying suffering?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, I could change. But if I did change in the ways you're suggesting, do you really think I'd keep strictly following a set of rules that I no longer agreed with? And for me, I care about people despite the fact that so many of them are so often stupid and petty and vindictive. I care about the world not just as a place for me to live, but also for itself - as our common project, reaching for the stars. Hermione, the world is amazing even now. The future of humanity, assuming we don't screw it up completely, is unfathomably vast and wonderful. And as for suffering... You're right, I can justify it if necessary. That's not an absolute prohibition - technically nothing is for me. But I'm driven by a vision of our bright future among the stars, and there is no place for cruelty in that vision. That's why I can cast the Patronus that destroys Dementors - it's because I truly believe that death can be overcome. Um, OK, that's not actually the same thing, but do you see what I mean? I trust my future self to make the decisions I would want him to make, so I don't feel like I have to try to bind him with strict rules. I'm not smart enough to come up with strict rules that will actually work properly in the long term - no one is. That's what you're learning now, and I'm really sorry that it's such a painful lesson."

Harry slid down the wall beside Hermione and put an arm around her shoulders. She flinched slightly, then leaned into him. A moment later Bentham landed on Harry's arm, mantling his wings around both heads. Harry and Hermione relaxed against one another as the firebird sang peace and restoration.