This is a spin off of Less Wrongs Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality Fanfiction. All idea's and characters go to him and J.K. Rowling. I just couldn't resist jumping in on the fun.

If you have not read Methods of Rationality, please stop what you are doing and read it NOW. Really, I mean it. Stop reading this and slap yourself for your insolence.

Okay, from this moment on I'm going to assume that everyone has read it.

Chapter Four

Questions

A week ago Hermione would not have had the courage to stand up to Professor Quirrell. A week ago she would have went to Professor McGonagall, or Flitwick and expected them to settle things. But a week ago her teachers had not betrayed her, had not stood by and watched Snape break her. She finally understood what Harry had meant by McGonagall not being responsible. The transfiguration professor was not a heroine.

But Hermione was, or at least she intended to be.

She was halfway down the hall when she realized how stupid it was of her to storm out of the classroom. She needed to learn the killing curse. The bullies sure weren't going to pass up the chance to learn it, and she wasn't convinced that they were finished with her. Harry had explained Dumbledore's reasoning behind letting Snape berate her, and after hearing it she did partly agree with the Headmaster. However, had it not been her to be punished so severely, she would not have stood for it.

And now Lucius was at the school to kill her. Quirrell had not done her any favors by re-awarding her all those points. The Defense Professor wasn't going to help her, and Dumbledore would rather let her die than start another war. Harry would help her, she could count on him. He'd probably teach her the killing curse once she enlightened him to her current predicament. She wasn't sure if he really had mastered the spell, but it was clear that he understood it better than she did and she would be damned to storm back into the classroom now.

Never mind about my problems, what about Harry? What should she do to help him? After all, he had got her out of serving real detention time. It was only fair of her to return the favor. But how could she do it?

"Does anyone else feel the need to have an emotional outburst?" Professor Quirrell addressed the class. When no one replied he motioned for the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors to return to the front and resume their practice.

Draco was hardly paying attention to them. His mind was split three ways as three different issues demanded his attention and he was equally divided between them. Part one was still registering just how scary Harry was. How could someone, who's life resolution was to live forever and find a way for everyone in the entire universe to as well, master a curse on his first attempt that was in complete contrast to that goal? Of course Harry had not been lying when he revealed that part of himself to Draco. You can't fake casting a Patronus! Could you? Draco was beginning to wonder. Harry hadn't actually let Draco look at his Patronus, for all he knew it could take the shape of some monstrous, incredibly deceptive beast whose sole purpose of existence was to mess with Draco's head. But then he remembered the unbelievable light the Patronus let off and he knew Harry hadn't been lying. That still didn't help Draco's rational. Harry couldn't possibly be that divided.

Then again, this was the same person who had screwed over his entire life and thought it prudent for them to still be friends. Harry, Draco concluded, was insane and could make absolutely anything happen whether or not he snapped his fingers.

Part two was occupied with his Father and how he was taking all this. He'd certainly seemed surprised enough at Harry's competence with the killing curse. He was probably hearing all the little subtle conversations that Draco's distracted and inexperienced mind was simply not picking up on.

He didn't want to think about why his father was really here. Professor Quirrell could have asked a number of people to assist him in teaching the students of Hogwarts the killing curse. Why one earth would Lucius Malfoy, one of the most important figures in Magical Brittan, take time off his busy schedule to teach a bunch of kids how to properly kill each other? No, Father had come for entirely different reasons, and Professor Quirrell had simply taken advantage of Lucius' presence. How the Defense Professor had convinced Father to help him was something Draco would have to consider when his mind was not in thirds.

And part three was thinking about what Hermione had said. It did make sense. What had Harry done to provoke such a reaction from Professor Quirrell? Surely it wasn't being upset for realizing just how easy it was for the Dark Lord to kill his parents. Perhaps he thought it unwise of Harry to display so much emotion in front of Father, so before any more damage could be done he had Harry leave the room. That could be it… Or maybe the Professor really did think Harry might have lost it and killed someone. Though, from Grangers display and his own understanding of the curse, he knew that anger didn't necessarily mean success with the spell. Then again, if Harry really had mastered Avada Kedavra perhaps it would not matter how angry he was.

It was Draco's turn to try the spell again.

He stood before the caged rat, picturing the creature going limp. He began the gestures, imagining the breath leaving the rat, willing it to die. "Avada Kedavra," Draco said and once again a green spark left his wand, but as before it faded before reaching the rat. Draco wondered if he stood closer he'd be able to at least hit the rat, maybe then it would die.

The lesson wore on. Fewer people were having success with the spell than when they first started. When the first signs of disappointment began to show amongst the children, Professor Quirrell called a halt, promising there will be open practice later that evening. There were also scheduled session with Lucius as well so there would be plenty more opportunity to learn to murder people.

As his fellow classmates began to file out of the room, what Draco had been dreading since the start of the lesson finally happened.

Father tapped Draco lightly on the shoulder and said softly, "Walk with me, my son."

And Draco knew that his promised doom had finally arrived.