Harry Potter and the Hermetic Arts
Chapter 9: How to Train a Skeptic
Wednesday morning, Harry awoke feeling completely refreshed. For the first time in a long time, he came to his senses without feeling the fog of sleep making him groggy, and he rose from the comfortable bed with a renewed sense of purpose, ready to face the day. Thus, when Hermione's phone number tumbled out of his bag when he accidentally knocked it over while getting dressed, he decided it was as a day as any to contact the bushy-haired brunette and called the number she had given him not long after he had breakfast.
As luck would have it, Hermione answered the call, but Harry did not know that.
"Hello?"
"Hello, is this Granger residence?"
"It is. May I ask who's calling?"
"Harry Potter, for Hermione Granger."
"Harry! It's me, Hermione!"
"Oh, hey, Hermione. Do you want to meet up before school starts on the first?"
"Yes! That would be wonderful!"
"What day can you meet me on?"
"I need to ask mum and dad."
A beat followed.
"Mum says she can take me on Friday. Where can we meet?"
"How about Bourne's Comics and Games? One Hundred Eight Walwyn Road, Little Whinging."
Another beat followed.
"Mum says that's okay."
"Friday morning, then?"
One more beat.
"9 A.M.?"
"Works for me. I'll see you then."
~ooOoo~
Elizabeth Granger had expected many things of a place named Bourne's Comics and Games, but what she had not expected was a spacious hobby shop with pane glass windows for natural lighting, stocked with beautifully crafted bookcases filled with all manners of trade paperbacks, hardcover volumes, box sets, recent issues and boxes of board games.
"Welcome to Bourne's Comics and Games," greeted the tall, ruggedly handsome man with salt-and-pepper hair and a short, obviously well-cared-for, boxed beard standing at the counter, smiling warmly while his eyes watched the newcomers' from behind a pair of rimless glasses. "I'm Jason Bourne, and no, I'm not that Jason Bourne; I was Jason Bourne before the books, and I'm the Bourne whose name is on this shop."
"I'm Elizabeth," said the woman, as she shook the shop owner's hand. "And this is my daughter, Hermione. She's supposed to be meeting with a friend here."
Jason turned his head towards the back wall and called out, "'Squeak, your friend's here."
There was a moment of nothing, then the door swung open, and through it came the same boy she had met on the last of July, though he was much better dressed than before.
"Good morning, Missus and Miss Granger," said the boy. Receiving a nod from the shop owner, he gestured towards the back of the shop with one hand. "If you would be so kind as to come this way, we can use the back room."
Elizabeth took the boy's offer, taking her daughter by the hand and leading her towards the back of the shop even as the girl's head moved quickly to and fro, eyes wide as she took in the sights of a place that sold various books.
Passing through the door to the back area of the shop, she was greeted by a cozy room with several sofas, bookcases, filing cabinets and boxes lining the brick walls, while a single large table surveyed its surroundings from the center, with a half-dozen or so chairs of various construction and materials littering its perimeter. Strewn across the table were several books, a notepad filled with notes and diagrams, a glass of water and a number of pens of various colors.
"I apologize for the mess," Harry said with an apologetic smile. "I was reading some maths textbooks and working on some exercises and time just got away from me."
Hermione had already over at the bookcases, reading the titles along the spines.
"Missus Granger, if you have things you to do, Hermione can stay here with me," said the boy. "Otherwise, you can stay and observe."
"Why maths?" Elizabeth asked, curious at the boy's choice of study materials.
"Hogwarts doesn't teach literature, maths, science or social studies," said the boy. "Hogwarts students spend seven years without being taught those subjects; why do you think that is?"
"I don't know," Elizabeth said. By this time, Hermione had finished her inspection of the books around the room and had made her way back to table, where she was paying rapt attention to the conversation that was going on. "Why do you think that is?"
"My guess is control," Harry said darkly. "Take children from the age of eleven and isolate them from normal society by not teaching them the skills they would need to live in that world, and you end up with adults who cannot function in normal society, which means they end up having to live in magical society." Seeing Hermione's look of concern, he added, "Don't worry, the walls are soundproof; it can get pretty rowdy back here during game nights and movie nights."
"They're witches and wizards!" the girl protested. "Why would they live among muggles?"
"Don't use that word," said Harry.
"What word? 'Muggle'?"
"Yes," said the boy. "I've been talking to a sociology professor, and magical society use of 'muggle' is pejorative. They use that term specifically so they can look down on normal people, like they're quaint simpletons who aren't even worth their time. Magical society has memory manipulation magic that they use on normal people without even asking their permission; they do that when they don't respect them as equals, but instead seems them as inferior."
"But…"
Harry cut the girl off. "Hermione, you seem to really love books, so I'm going to assume you've read the books you've bought from Flourish and Blotts."
"Twice so far," said the girl proudly.
"Okay, then," Harry said. "Think about the books you've read. Have they ever used the term 'muggle' in a way that's complementary to normal people?"
Hermione fell silent as she thought over what she had read; concentration quickly gave way to panic as the realization dawned on her that what the boy had been saying was accurate. "But…"
"I can see you're starting to get the picture," Harry said with a sigh. "The questions you should be asking yourself are 'what?' and 'why?'."
"'What?'?'Why?'?" asked Hermione, unable to properly comprehend what was suggested.
"Yes,," said Harry. "Why is someone telling you something? What do they have to gain from it? What don't they want you to know? Why don't they want you to know it? What are they hiding? Why are they hiding it?"
"That's a very dark view of the world, Harry," cautioned Elizabeth.
"Ms Granger," said the boy, turning towards her, "an evil magical bogeyman came to my home and murdered my parents when I was a toddler; he apparently tried to murder me too, but for some reason did not and instead disappeared, with no traces to be found. I was then placed with my relatives, who neglected and abused me, but when they were reported to the police, nothing ever came of it."
"That's horrible," said Hermione's mother, as her hand went to her mouth in alarm.
"Oh, it gets better," said the boy. "On the last day of last month, Albus Dumbledore sends that drunkard Rubeus Hagrid to retrieve me from my relatives, and the process, introduces me to a world of magic, where I'm apparently wealthy and famous, and beloved by the people, and yet that was kept from me and none of it was used to help my situation with my relatives."
"Maybe they didn't know," Elizabeth suggested.
"Then why was the first letter addressed to, 'the Cupboard Under the Stairs'?"
"You live in a cupboard?" asked Elizabeth, horrified.
"Not anymore, but that's besides the point," said Harry. "My worldview is grim because my life experiences have shown me the world is not a kind place."
"But Dumbledore is considered the greatest light wizard of the modern era," Hermione protested.
"Let's break this down. Why?"
"'Why?'?" Hermione asked, once again confused.
"Why is Dumbledore considered the greatest light wizard of the modern era?"
"Dumbledore defeated the dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald in 1945," the girl recited.
"Yet He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is considered the 'darkest, greatest and most powerful Dark Lord of all time'," Harry argued. "And his defeat is most commonly attributed to me. Shouldn't that make me the greatest light wizard of the modern era?"
"Don't be silly," said Hermione. "You were only a baby then."
"So why is Dumbledore considered the greatest light wizard of the modern era, and by whom?" asked Harry. "What evidence is there that he is even a light wizard?"
"He defeated the dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald."
"You don't need to be a good person to defeat a bad person," Harry countered. "Just look at gang wars if you need examples of bad people killing other bad people. And history is written by the victor because the defeated aren't around to tell their side of the story."
"He discovered the twelve uses of dragon's blood."
"That's like discovering penicillin; on its own, it's neither good or bad, just useful."
The bushy-haired girl worked her mouth as she tried to formulate another argument but found that she couldn't. Harry saw her bewilderment and chose to press his advantage.
"Let's examine who calls Dumbledore 'the greatest light wizard of the modern era'," he said. "Who specifically calls him that?"
Hermione rapidly rattled off a list of names.
"Why would they call him that?"
"Because he's the greatest light wizard of the modern era."
"We just demonstrated there's really no hard evidence of that, though," said Harry.
Once again, the girl found herself without an argument.
"Do you want to know what I think?" asked Harry.
Hermione nodded.
"I think it's propaganda."
"Propaganda?"
"Non-objective information primarily used to influence people and advance an agenda, usually through selectively presenting facts or using loaded language to encourage results in a certain viewpoint being established," explained Harry.
"But why?"
"That's a good question," said Harry, "and I'm glad you asked. My guess is control."
"Control?"
"Let's say I told you there was a man who was the prime minister of the United Kingdom, the United Nations Secretariat and the chancellor of the only school in Britain," said Harry, turning to Hermione's mother. "What would you say?"
"I'd be suspicious of him," Elizabeth said. "Nobody should have that much power."
"And if everybody told you he was the greatest person to have ever lived?"
"Well, then… wait."
"Exactly," said Harry. "Dumbledore is the Chief Warlock, the Supreme Mugwump, and the Headmaster of Headmaster of Hogwarts. If he wasn't considered the greatest light wizard, people would likely be very suspicious of his motives."
"I can see that," said the woman thoughtfully.
"All right Hermione," said Harry, as he turned back to the girl. "Tell me something you read in a book about the magic and how it interacts with the normal world."
"Electricity, and computers and radar, and all those things, they all go haywire around magic," Hermione said after a moment of thought.
Harry thought about it for nary a second before he started laughing. "That just can't be true."
"What? Why?"
Harry once again turned towards Elizabeth. "Your husband was wearing a wristwatch when he was in Diagon Alley, correct?"
"Yes…"
"Is it battery operated?"
"Yes…"
"After you left Diagon Alley, did he have to reset his watch because magic had interfered with it and made it 'go haywire'?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
Harry turned back towards Hermione. "That's proof number one," he said. "Now, tell me, where is Diagon Alley located?"
"In London?"
"If electronics 'go haywire around magic', don't you think people would have noticed it? I mean, there would have to be an entire electronics chaos zone around where Diagon Alley is, which is right in the middle a populated city, surrounded by shops, office buildings and the like. Do you think people are really so stupid they wouldn't notice something like electronics not working?"
Silence hung in the air as Hermione tried once again to process being told something she had read was possibly untruthful. "But why would they say that?"
"Again, control," Harry said. "If you tell people technology won't work near magic, you are forcing them to pick a side, either the normal world or the magical world. Because you won't find an electrical socket anywhere in the magical world, people will not be able to really experiment with normal technology while they surrounded by magic
"Speaking of which, I need to buy a portable power generator so I run do some experiments."
"Experiments?" asked Hermione.
"Yeah," said Harry. "I clearly can't trust what's written in books, since they're very obviously skewed with anecdotal evidence and hearsay, so I'm going to have to run controlled tests to establish what is real and what isn't."
"But they're books!" the bushy-haired girl protested. "They wouldn't be printed if they weren't true!"
"In saying that, you're ignoring the entire fiction genre," said Harry. "But let's put that aside for the moment and examine something else.
"Tell me, Hermione, what do your books say about me?"
"That you defeated You-Know-Who..."
"Hearsay. Nobody else was there, so they can't possibly know the details, and I was a toddler. What else?"
"You survived the Killing Curse..."
"Again, nobody was there, so that's also hearsay."
"You fought werewolves!"
"Werewolves are real?"
"You explored the ancient tombs of dark wizards in Europe!"
"Never been outside of England. Don't even have a passport."
"You battled Death Eaters!"
"What even are 'Death Eaters'?"
And thus the exchange continued for several minutes, with Hermione listing one deed after another attributed to the boy while Harry rapidly refuted them with his own experience of his life.
Finally, Hermione exhausted all the exploits she could remember being attributed to Harry, and Harry had quashed all the claims, leaving the bushy-haired girl in silence.
"So, as we've just proven, almost nothing that's been written about me is factual," said the boy.
"But why would they do that?" asked Hermione.
"Good question," Harry said. "If nothing else, I'm guessing it's earned them a lot of money. People do love to gossip about their celebs, and greed is a powerful motivator."
"But why you?"
"They call me 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'," said Harry. "From what I can gather, I'm some kind of magical chosen one, and of course people want their chosen ones to be heroic even as a child."
Hermione worked her mouth, clearly trying to find something to say, and Harry realized he might have to go easier on her.
"Listen, Hermione," he said. "You seem like a nice person. Smart, too, but really trusting, especially of books. And you're well-read, so you've read a lot of books. You just don't strike me as somebody who thinks too much."
"I do think lots!" Hermione protested.
"Not critically, though," the boy said, smiling as kindly as he could. "Look, it's good that you like to read and inform yourself, but you need to always need to ask 'why?' when you're reading. People don't write books unless they have something they want to say, and you need to question why they're saying it and what they have to gain from it. I mean, sure, they all have money to gain if they're published, but even so, they're trying to accomplish something with whatever they're writing, and you should be questioning their motives."
"And why are you telling me this?" asked Hermione, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"You seem bright," said Harry, lips curling into a slightly predatory smile. "And a mind is a terrible thing to waste, especially in ignorance and mindless conformity."
"You make it sound like you're doing this out of the kindness of your heart," said Hermione.
"I would do that, wouldn't I?" the boy said lightly. "You have to determine for yourself what my motives actually are; if I were to tell you, you won't be able to trust it because it came from me, and it would defeat the point anyways."
Harry gave Hermione a moment to chew on what he had just told her before he decided to change the subject, not wanting to tell her Sarah and Martin had taught him everything he had just been teaching her not long after he had found Bourne's Comics and Games.
"So, what do you do for fun?"
Author's Notes: A bit more of Harry's paranoia and conspiracy theorist side coming out, and Hermione has to bear the brunt of it for now.
Again, credit and thanks to Shinshikaizer for the original treatment, and goalie12345 for editing.