NOTES: This is not intended as an official submission, as it is merely a rewrite of portions of Alexander Wales' "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Zombie."
As a heavily derivative fork of a fanfiction of a fanfiction, I'm not sure it passes the plagiarism test, but I happened to revisit this short story recently and felt like sharing some thoughts.
Anyone who hasn't should read Alexander's work first: s/10023949/1/Harry-Potter-and-the-Philosopher-s-Zombie. It branches from Hermione's death, where she has become a ghost. My slight rewrite of the final conversation with Quirrell occurs just in the last few pages, but might act as a launching off point for further AU exploration, as Alexander's work was fascinating and much too short.
"I have heard," said the Defense Professor, "That you have been making inquiries into the nature of the soul."
"I was," said Harry. "The Headmaster said some things that made me think."
"Oh?" asked Quirrell.
"Do you believe in souls?" asked Harry.
"Of course," said Quirrell. "It's obvious that they exist to anyone who gives it the merest thought."
"Perhaps I'm asking the wrong question," said Harry. "What exactly is a soul?"
"It's the animating intellect, the spirit, and the essence of being," said Quirrell. "It is what exists beyond the body. Animagi, Polyjuice, paintings, photographs, ghosts, all these work on the principle of the soul. There is even legend of a dark magic which can be used to split the soul, such that a wizard can survive beyond death."
Harry was very quiet for a long moment. "Why don't muggles have souls?" asked Harry. "Why are they different?"
"Walk with me," said Quirrell. Harry did, not really paying attention to where they were going. "Of all the questions to ask, you ask of muggles?"
"My parents," said Harry, "What does it mean that they don't have that same extra-physical personhood that wizards appear to have?"
"They cannot think," said Quirrell. "Not like you or I. They have memories, which can be obliviated or charmed away, but do you know what you see if you attempt Legilimency on a muggle?" Harry shook his head. "You would see nothing at all. No thoughts going on behind their eyes, no animating spirit. It's like looking at a perfectly flat lake, undisturbed by wind or wave. And if you want to replace that calm surface, it's as simple as giving the slightest push."
Harry shuddered, and hoped that Quirrell wasn't speaking from experience. "They still speak though, they still think and dream and laugh," he said in a rush. "They've written whole treatises on the nature of philosophy." Harry suddenly wished that he'd read more of them.
"Empty words," said Quirrell. "The product of a mechanical process, or electrical impulses and chemical reactions. Have you never wondered whether there was really something animating the muggles? With magic we can look into their minds and see. Wizards have souls, and muggles do not. It is incontrovertible."
"Just because you can't see anything with Legilimency - no, I'm sorry, that's the wrong tactic to take here. Let's say for a moment that muggles don't have souls, that there's not some extra-physical identity tied to them. That doesn't mean that they don't think the same as you or I. Their psychology is identical, or near enough. They behave in the same way that we do."
"Yet there's nothing behind their behavior," said Quirrell. He gave Harry a strange look. "Do you not see that? Perhaps you would need learning as a Legilimens for yourself. But even with a Penseive the difference is clear. A muggle's memories do not take on the same biases and warpings as a wizard's do. Their memories are of crystal clarity, untainted by thought."
"Hold on Professor," said Harry, his brow furrowed in confusion. "The primary evidence you and Dumbledore have cited are the existence of the Veil and the behavior mind-altering magic. Yet both of these things were created by people!
"If the Veil is the means by which souls are conveyed into the afterlife, then the afterlife must be artificial, not natural. In fact, it is tremendously more plausible to believe that the entire behavior of souls is artificial. Why should natural law distinguish between the operation of muggle and wizard brains, and make an extra-physical copy of one but not the other?
"If a benevolently minded wizard - or, say an Atlantean since these magics predate Merlin - took it upon themself to solve the problem of Death not for just themselves, but for everyone, then creating souls makes a ton of sense." It's the kind of thing I might do myself, thought Harry, given enough time and power. It's actually pretty promising to imagine someone has gone that far already...too bad they were some sort of magical racist and left out all the muggles…
Professor Quirrell walked quietly beside Harry as he gushed on.
"So you see, the soul can't be the source of our intelligence and reasoning! Human beings must pre-date magical souls, and have had reason and magic enough to create them. All of the magic that leverages the by-product of having a magical real time copy of your thoughts and memories came after the fact. Legilimency doesn't look into your consciousness - it looks into the magical copy. That's why you can't read muggle's minds- they are physically conscious, but have no magical object layer to interact with."
Professor Quirrell frowned. "This is all conjecture, Mr. Potter, and your knowledge of the magics of the mind is sorely lacking."
"Yes, it's just one hypothesis right now, but it's at least as consistent with the data as the theory that Souls are the immortal, immutable and naturally arising carriers of consciousness itself. I'd estimate it to be quite a bit more plausible, given the evidence I have and my priors.
"I really need to gather more data," said Harry thoughtfully. "If I take the soul hypothesis as it's been presented to me, there are other things that don't make sense as well. The Killing Curse, for example. You said that it works on anything with a brain, and Professor McGonagall said that it works by separating the soul from the body. But muggles have brains, I'm completely sure of that, and if you were right then the Killing Curse still kills them.
"The Killing Curse does two things when it strikes the body," said Quirrell. "First, it cuts the soul away from the body, if one is present. Second, it immediately stops all electrical activity in the nervous system of the creature so struck. The first method is useful only against wizards, the second against nearly everything else, with a few notable exceptions such as ghosts, which have no body to cut the soul away from or nervous system to shut down."
"And how do you know this?" asked Harry. Complexity penalty, he thought. Two layers of effect implies it had to be engineered to take souls into account, possibly a later addition to a base spell that simply killed.
"You have heard of the Dark Wizard Grindelwald?" asked Quirrell.
"The one Dumbledore defeated," said Harry.
"Yes," replied Quirrell. "Grindelwald had a burning curiosity within him that is common to the dark wizards. He wondered, as you did, what would happen when someone was struck by the Killing Curse after they'd had their soul removed."
"How … how do you remove a soul?" asked Harry. "How is that even possible?" Something tickled at his memory, a discarded scrap of information marked as not true. "Dementors."
Quirrell nodded. "Dementors do not act simply to inspire fear and drain happiness from people. They will plant their bony lips upon your face, and you will have no urge to stop them, and they will suck your soul straight from you. It was this dark magic that Grindelwald used. In fact, it is still used to this day as a means of execution by the Wizengamot. What's left behind is a body, brain still apparently active and heart still beating, but utterly soulless. No memories, no thoughts, a blankness that cannot be faked or recovered from."
"That's terrible," said Harry. He felt nauseous. "That's nearly the most terrible thing that I can imagine… but Professor, it's still not consistent with the hypothesis that the soul is the seat of consciousness. You said that Muggles have memories without having a soul, but just now suggested that a Dementor removing your soul would destroy your memories. And can't Dementors drain Muggles with the Kiss? You can say there are two layers, like with the killing curse, but that's additional complexity that seems unlikely to be natural. Additionally, if a desouled wizard has no thoughts at all, why doesn't a soulless muggle act the same way?"
Professor Quirrell scowled, appearing annoyed. "Perhaps there is some relationship between the functioning of the physical brain and the soul. Indeed, the brain must be changed by the Kiss in addition to the removal of the soul for it to subdue a Wizard as it does... But what is your point, Mr. Potter? What difference does it make?"
"All the difference! If muggles aren't conscious... everything changes! They wouldn't be really alive! I can't believe that - that my Mum and Dad weren't people, that they don't feel, that all our conversations were the equivalent of talking to a 'chinese room.'" Harry felt a burning in his chest, and his vision blurred around the edges as his voice climbed higher.
"And...and if souls were created by magic, then maybe they can be modified or improved! I could help Hermione not to feel could or sad, or help fix her so she can form new memories, maybe even anchor her in a new body..."
Quirrell hissed "Silence, fool boy! One does not talk of such magics openly."
Cowed by the professor's outburst, Harry quieted. His heart was pounding in his chest. He didn't speak what was in his mind - that if souls were real, maybe he really could save everyone; maybe he could see his biological parents again. He was afraid of that hope, terrified of having it dashed yet again.
They walked on in silence for a time, until another question floated to the surface of Harry's Mind.
"Professor...The Dementor's Kiss… Why? Why does the ministry do it that way, why not simply kill them dead? Is it retribution?"
"Imagine for a moment that you had seen the Veil which sits at the heart of the Ministry of Magic, around which the government of magical Britain had been built." Quirrell had something feral in his eyes. "Imagine that the wizards who held control of the Veil had tried certain courses of action, nothing like science, but killings directly in front of the Veil to see the movement of a soul in flight. Not the wizards of today, but those of Merlin's time perhaps. Imagine that there is this artifact, which by all accounts seems to lead to the afterlife, and imagine the thousand tales of what lies beyond. The Wizengamot certainly doesn't know what the next world might contain, but surely it occurred to them, as it would likely occur to you or I, that criminals pass through the Veil as well. Criminals, heretics, dissidents, and dark wizards, all would have to be defeated a second time, and in many cases a second victory was not such a sure thing. If there exists a method to rid yourself of an enemy completely and forever, well, I should hardly think that they would stand on a moral high ground and not use it."
"They're preparing for a war," said Harry. He felt the blood drain from his face. "They're preparing for a war in the afterlife, whatever it might be."
Quirrell let out a humorless laugh. "Mr. Potter, what stakes did you think we've all been playing for?"
Harry's face was set and hard, his body icy cold. The highest stakes there are, he thought, realizing for the first time the true meaning behind the childish ambitions he had defended to the sorting hat, what felt like ages ago.
Someone had created artificial souls, whether in pursuit of immortality, or as a by-product of other experimentation into mental magics. Whatever the cause, they had opened the gateway to eternal life for everyone. Forget transhumanism and simulated brains, forget a techno-magical singularity in some distant future, eternal life was available now. The obsidian columns rippling with the passage of thousands of minds into its embrace was no longer just a joke in poor taste to Harry. It was now the most important artifact in the world.
We are all playing for the highest stakes imaginable, he thought again, the fate of our Eternity.
To anyone observant enough to notice such things, Harry Potter's eyes were sharp and cold as crystal then, colder than they'd ever been.
And I intend to win.
Walking in silence beside the young wizard, Professor Quirrell pointedly did not smile.
