From 422895fdfed7c0ebec2384278252218a4306d107 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Reuben Thomas Date: Tue, 21 Dec 2021 12:44:46 +0000 Subject: [PATCH] Harmonize hyphens (fix #32) Thanks, @entorb for the list of hyphenation inconsistencies! Also fix a few other minor nits I noticed at the same time. --- chapters/hpmor-chapter-001.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-003.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-004.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-005.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-006.tex | 18 +++++++++--------- chapters/hpmor-chapter-007.tex | 8 ++++---- chapters/hpmor-chapter-008.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-010.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-011.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-012.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-013.tex | 8 ++++---- chapters/hpmor-chapter-014.tex | 10 +++++----- chapters/hpmor-chapter-015.tex | 8 ++++---- chapters/hpmor-chapter-016.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-017.tex | 26 +++++++++++++------------- chapters/hpmor-chapter-018.tex | 18 +++++++++--------- chapters/hpmor-chapter-019.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-020.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-021.tex | 12 ++++++------ chapters/hpmor-chapter-022.tex | 14 +++++++------- chapters/hpmor-chapter-023.tex | 14 +++++++------- chapters/hpmor-chapter-024.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-025.tex | 10 +++++----- chapters/hpmor-chapter-026.tex | 12 ++++++------ chapters/hpmor-chapter-027.tex | 14 +++++++------- chapters/hpmor-chapter-028.tex | 12 ++++++------ chapters/hpmor-chapter-029.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-030.tex | 14 +++++++------- chapters/hpmor-chapter-033.tex | 16 ++++++++-------- chapters/hpmor-chapter-034.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-035.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-036.tex | 14 +++++++------- chapters/hpmor-chapter-037.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-038.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-039.tex | 10 +++++----- chapters/hpmor-chapter-041.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-043.tex | 8 ++++---- chapters/hpmor-chapter-045.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-046.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-047.tex | 22 +++++++++++----------- chapters/hpmor-chapter-048.tex | 8 ++++---- chapters/hpmor-chapter-049.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-050.tex | 10 +++++----- chapters/hpmor-chapter-051.tex | 8 ++++---- chapters/hpmor-chapter-052.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-053.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-054.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-055.tex | 10 +++++----- chapters/hpmor-chapter-059.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-060.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-061.tex | 10 +++++----- chapters/hpmor-chapter-062.tex | 12 ++++++------ chapters/hpmor-chapter-063.tex | 26 +++++++++++++------------- chapters/hpmor-chapter-064.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-066.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-067.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-068.tex | 10 +++++----- chapters/hpmor-chapter-069.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-070.tex | 10 +++++----- chapters/hpmor-chapter-071.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-072.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-073.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-074.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-075.tex | 8 ++++---- chapters/hpmor-chapter-076.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-077.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-078.tex | 12 ++++++------ chapters/hpmor-chapter-079.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-080.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-082.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-084.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-085.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-086.tex | 24 ++++++++++++------------ chapters/hpmor-chapter-087.tex | 8 ++++---- chapters/hpmor-chapter-088.tex | 12 ++++++------ chapters/hpmor-chapter-090.tex | 10 +++++----- chapters/hpmor-chapter-091.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-094.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-095.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-096.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-097.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-098.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-100.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-101.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-102.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-103.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-104.tex | 6 +++--- chapters/hpmor-chapter-107.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-108.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-109.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-111.tex | 12 ++++++------ chapters/hpmor-chapter-112.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-113.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-115.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-117.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-118.tex | 4 ++-- chapters/hpmor-chapter-119.tex | 10 +++++----- chapters/hpmor-chapter-121.tex | 2 +- chapters/hpmor-chapter-122.tex | 14 +++++++------- hp-epigraphs.tex | 8 ++++---- spelling-list.txt | 1 + 101 files changed, 359 insertions(+), 358 deletions(-) diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-001.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-001.tex index 3c21c6dd5..d5b859fe5 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-001.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-001.tex @@ -49,7 +49,7 @@ \chapter{A Day of Very Low Probability} “No,” Petunia said, looking puzzled. -“Then no one in your family knew about magic when Lily got her letter. How did \emph{they} get convinced?” +“Then no-one in your family knew about magic when Lily got her letter. How did \emph{they} get convinced?” “Ah…” Petunia said. “They didn’t just send a letter. They sent a professor from Hogwarts. He—” Petunia’s eyes flicked to Michael. “He showed us some magic.” @@ -75,7 +75,7 @@ \chapter{A Day of Very Low Probability} He shut the door behind him and tried to think. -The funny thing was, he \emph{should} have agreed with Dad. No one had ever seen any evidence of magic, and according to Mum, there was a whole magical world out there. How could anyone keep something like that a secret? More magic? That seemed like a rather suspicious sort of excuse. +The funny thing was, he \emph{should} have agreed with Dad. No-one had ever seen any evidence of magic, and according to Mum, there was a whole magical world out there. How could anyone keep something like that a secret? More magic? That seemed like a rather suspicious sort of excuse. It should have been a clean case for Mum joking, lying or being insane, in ascending order of awfulness. If Mum had sent the letter herself, that would explain how it arrived at the letterbox without a stamp. A little insanity was far, far less improbable than the universe really working like that. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-003.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-003.tex index c5119262b..257b754bf 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-003.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-003.tex @@ -90,7 +90,7 @@ \chapter{Comparing Reality To Its Alternatives} The Death Eaters had followed in the Dark Lord’s wake and in his vanguard, carrion vultures to pick at wounds, or snakes to bite and weaken. The Death Eaters were not as terrible as the Dark Lord, but they were terrible, and they were many. And the Death Eaters wielded more than wands; there was wealth within those masked ranks, and political power, and secrets held in blackmail, to paralyse a society trying to protect itself. -An old and respected journalist, Yermy Wibble, called for increased taxes and conscription. He shouted that it was absurd for the many to cower in fear of the few. His skin, only his skin, had been found nailed to the newsroom wall that next morning, next to the skins of his wife and two daughters. Everyone wished for something more to be done, and no one dared take the lead to propose it. Whoever stood out the most became the next example. +An old and respected journalist, Yermy Wibble, called for increased taxes and conscription. He shouted that it was absurd for the many to cower in fear of the few. His skin, only his skin, had been found nailed to the newsroom wall that next morning, next to the skins of his wife and two daughters. Everyone wished for something more to be done, and no-one dared take the lead to propose it. Whoever stood out the most became the next example. Until the names of James and Lily Potter rose to the top of that list. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-004.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-004.tex index 8e29d2da4..5846b7e10 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-004.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-004.tex @@ -40,9 +40,9 @@ Harry nodded. “Thank you very much, Mr~Griphook.” -\emph{So not only is the wizarding economy almost completely decoupled from the Muggle economy, no one here has ever heard of arbitrage.} The larger Muggle economy had a fluctuating trading range of gold to silver, so every time the Muggle gold-to-silver ratio got more than 5\% away from the weight of seventeen Sickles to one Galleon, either gold or silver should have drained from the wizarding economy until it became impossible to maintain the exchange rate. Bring in a ton of silver, change to Sickles (and pay 5\%), change the Sickles for Galleons, take the gold to the Muggle world, exchange it for more silver than you started with, and repeat. +\emph{So not only is the wizarding economy almost completely decoupled from the Muggle economy, no-one here has ever heard of arbitrage.} The larger Muggle economy had a fluctuating trading range of gold to silver, so every time the Muggle gold-to-silver ratio got more than 5\% away from the weight of seventeen Sickles to one Galleon, either gold or silver should have drained from the wizarding economy until it became impossible to maintain the exchange rate. Bring in a ton of silver, change to Sickles (and pay 5\%), change the Sickles for Galleons, take the gold to the Muggle world, exchange it for more silver than you started with, and repeat. -Wasn’t the Muggle gold to silver ratio somewhere around fifty to one? Harry didn’t think it was seventeen, anyway. And it looked like the silver coins were actually \emph{smaller} than the gold coins. +Wasn’t the Muggle gold-to-silver ratio somewhere around fifty to one? Harry didn’t think it was seventeen, anyway. And it looked like the silver coins were actually \emph{smaller} than the gold coins. Then again, Harry was standing in a bank that \emph{literally} stored your money in vaults full of gold coins guarded by dragons, where you had to go in and take coins out of your vault whenever you wanted to spend money. The finer points of arbitraging away market inefficiencies might well be lost on them. He’d been tempted to make snide remarks about the crudity of their financial system… @@ -94,7 +94,7 @@ “Of course,” sighed Professor McGonagall. -“You should have told me \emph{much earlier} that sort of magic item existed! And that I could afford one! Now my father and I are going to have to spend the next two days \emph{frantically} hitting up all the second-hand bookshops for old textbooks, so I can have a decent science library with me at Hogwarts—and maybe a small science fiction collection, if I can assemble something decent out of the bargain bins. Or better yet, I’ll make the deal a little sweeter for you, okay? Just let me buy—” +“You should have told me \emph{much earlier} that sort of magic item existed! And that I could afford one! Now my father and I are going to have to spend the next two days \emph{frantically} hitting up all the second-hand bookshops for old textbooks, so I can have a decent science library with me at Hogwarts—and maybe a small science-fiction collection, if I can assemble something decent out of the bargain bins. Or better yet, I’ll make the deal a little sweeter for you, okay? Just let me buy—” “\emph{Mr~Potter!} You think you can \emph{bribe} me?” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-005.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-005.tex index 282bf7926..5bfeedcc6 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-005.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-005.tex @@ -20,11 +20,11 @@ \chapter{The Fundamental Attribution Error} And then, unfortunately… -“Are you \emph{really} Harry Potter?” whispered the old man, one huge tear sliding down his cheek. “You wouldn’t lie about that, would you? Only I’d heard rumours that you didn’t \emph{really} survive the Killing Curse and that’s why no one ever heard from you again.” +“Are you \emph{really} Harry Potter?” whispered the old man, one huge tear sliding down his cheek. “You wouldn’t lie about that, would you? Only I’d heard rumours that you didn’t \emph{really} survive the Killing Curse and that’s why no-one ever heard from you again.” …it seemed that Professor McGonagall’s disguise spell was less than perfectly effective against more experienced magical practitioners. -Professor McGonagall had laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder and yanked him into the nearest alleyway the moment she’d heard “Harry Potter?” The old man had followed, but at least it looked like no one else had heard. +Professor McGonagall had laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder and yanked him into the nearest alleyway the moment she’d heard “Harry Potter?” The old man had followed, but at least it looked like no-one else had heard. Harry considered the question. \emph{Was} he really Harry Potter? “I only know what other people have told me,” Harry said. “It’s not like I remember being born.” His hand brushed his forehead. “I’ve had this scar as long as I remember, and I’ve been told my name was Harry Potter as long as I remember. But,” Harry said thoughtfully, “if there’s already sufficient cause to postulate a conspiracy, there’s no reason why they wouldn’t just find another orphan and raise him to believe that \emph{he} was Harry Potter—” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-006.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-006.tex index 150d71089..64b3379b4 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-006.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-006.tex @@ -52,7 +52,7 @@ \chapter{The Planning Fallacy} “And you \emph{really} haven’t heard of other wizards asking these sorts of questions or doing this sort of scientific experimenting?” Harry asked again. It just seemed so \emph{obvious} to him. -Then again, it’d taken more than two hundred years \emph{after} the invention of the scientific method before any Muggle scientists had thought to systematically investigate which sentences a \emph{human four-year-old} could or couldn’t understand. The developmental psychology of linguistics could’ve been discovered in the eighteenth century, in principle, but no one had even thought to look until the twentieth. So you couldn’t really blame the much smaller wizarding world for not investigating the Retrieval Charm. +Then again, it’d taken more than two hundred years \emph{after} the invention of the scientific method before any Muggle scientists had thought to systematically investigate which sentences a \emph{human four-year-old} could or couldn’t understand. The developmental psychology of linguistics could’ve been discovered in the eighteenth century, in principle, but no-one had even thought to look until the twentieth. So you couldn’t really blame the much smaller wizarding world for not investigating the Retrieval Charm. Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, then shrugged. “I’m still not sure what you mean by ‘scientific experimenting’, Mr~Potter. As I said, I’ve seen Muggle-born students try to get Muggle science to work inside Hogwarts, and people invent new Charms and Potions every year.” @@ -214,7 +214,7 @@ \chapter{The Planning Fallacy} Professor McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaled, and exhaled. “I would still like to hear about it,” she said. -“Um…” Harry said. He took a deep breath. “There’d been some muggings in our neighbourhood, and my mother asked me to return a pan she’d borrowed to a neighbour two streets away, and I said I didn’t want to because I might get mugged, and she said, ‘Harry, don’t say things like that!’ Like thinking about it would \emph{make} it happen, so if I didn’t talk about it, I would be safe. I tried to explain why I wasn’t reassured, and she made me carry over the pan anyway. I was too young to know how statistically unlikely it was for a mugger to target me, but I was old enough to know that not-thinking about something doesn’t stop it from happening, so I was really scared.” +“Um…” Harry said. He took a deep breath. “There’d been some muggings in our neighbourhood, and my mother asked me to return a pan she’d borrowed to a neighbour two streets away, and I said I didn’t want to because I might get mugged, and she said, ‘Harry, don’t say things like that!’ Like thinking about it would \emph{make} it happen, so if I didn’t talk about it, I would be safe. I tried to explain why I wasn’t reassured, and she made me carry over the pan anyway. I was too young to know how statistically unlikely it was for a mugger to target me, but I was old enough to know that not thinking about something doesn’t stop it from happening, so I was really scared.” “Nothing else?” Professor McGonagall said after a pause, when it became clear that Harry was done. “There isn’t anything \emph{else} that happened to you?” @@ -299,7 +299,7 @@ \chapter{The Planning Fallacy} The older witch gazed at him steadily. “It is my duty as Deputy Headmistress to investigate possible signs of abuse in the children under my care.” -Harry’s anger was spiralling out of control into pure, black fury. “Don’t you ever \emph{dare} breathe a word of these, these \emph{insinuations} to anyone else! \emph{No one}, do you hear me, McGonagall? An accusation like that can ruin people and destroy families even when the parents are completely innocent! I’ve read about it in the newspapers!” Harry’s voice was climbing to a high-pitched scream. “The \emph{system} doesn’t know how to \emph{stop}, it doesn’t believe the parents \emph{or} the children when they say nothing happened! \emph{Don’t you dare threaten my family with that! I won’t let you destroy my home!}” +Harry’s anger was spiralling out of control into pure, black fury. “Don’t you ever \emph{dare} breathe a word of these, these \emph{insinuations} to anyone else! \emph{No-one}, do you hear me, McGonagall? An accusation like that can ruin people and destroy families even when the parents are completely innocent! I’ve read about it in the newspapers!” Harry’s voice was climbing to a high-pitched scream. “The \emph{system} doesn’t know how to \emph{stop}, it doesn’t believe the parents \emph{or} the children when they say nothing happened! \emph{Don’t you dare threaten my family with that! I won’t let you destroy my home!}” “Harry,” the older witch said softly, and she reached out a hand towards him— @@ -401,9 +401,9 @@ \chapter{The Planning Fallacy} “How probable is it that Sirius Black will break out of prison and I’ll have to track him down and defeat him in some sort of spectacular duel, or better yet put a large bounty on his head and hide out in Australia while I wait for the results?” -Professor McGonagall blinked. Twice. “Not likely. No one has ever escaped from Azkaban, and I doubt that \emph{he} will be the first.” +Professor McGonagall blinked. Twice. “Not likely. No-one has ever escaped from Azkaban, and I doubt that \emph{he} will be the first.” -Harry was a bit sceptical of that “\emph{no one} has \emph{ever} escaped from Azkaban” line. Still, maybe with magic you could actually get close to a 100\% perfect prison, especially if you had a wand and they did not. The best way to get out would be to not go there in the first place. +Harry was a bit sceptical of that “\emph{no-one} has \emph{ever} escaped from Azkaban” line. Still, maybe with magic you could actually get close to a 100\% perfect prison, especially if you had a wand and they did not. The best way to get out would be to not go there in the first place. “All right then,” Harry said. “Sounds like it’s been nicely wrapped up.” He sighed, scrubbing his palm over his head. “Or maybe the Dark Lord didn’t \emph{really} die that night. Not completely. His spirit lingers, whispering to people in nightmares that bleed over into the waking world, searching for a way back into the living lands he swore to destroy, and now, in accordance with the ancient prophecy, he and I are locked in a deadly duel where the winner shall lose and the loser shall win—” @@ -421,7 +421,7 @@ \chapter{The Planning Fallacy} But what Harry actually thought was, \emph{Aw crap.} -Harry turned his own head to scan the street. Nope, no one nearby. “He’s \emph{not} dead, is he,” Harry sighed. +Harry turned his own head to scan the street. Nope, no-one nearby. “He’s \emph{not} dead, is he,” Harry sighed. “Mr~Potter—” @@ -447,7 +447,7 @@ \chapter{The Planning Fallacy} “And therefore subhuman. Sorry…for a moment there, I \emph{forgot}.” -“These are dreadful and important matters! They are \emph{secret,} Mr~Potter! It is a \emph{catastrophe} that you, still a child, know even this much! You must not tell \emph{anyone,} do you understand? Absolutely no one!” +“These are dreadful and important matters! They are \emph{secret,} Mr~Potter! It is a \emph{catastrophe} that you, still a child, know even this much! You must not tell \emph{anyone,} do you understand? Absolutely no-one!” As sometimes happened when Harry got \emph{sufficiently} angry, his blood went cold, instead of hot, and a terrible dark clarity descended over his mind, mapping out possible tactics and assessing their consequences with iron realism. @@ -579,13 +579,13 @@ \chapter{The Planning Fallacy} “Thank \emph{you}, Professor.” It was probably too early to call her Minnie. -This woman might well be the sanest adult Harry had ever met, despite her lack of scientific background. Harry was even considering offering her the number-two position in whatever group he formed to fight the Dark Lord, though he wasn’t silly enough to say that out loud. \emph{Now what would be a good name for that…? The Death Eater Eaters?} +This woman might well be the sanest adult Harry had ever met, despite her lack of scientific background. Harry was even considering offering her the number two position in whatever group he formed to fight the Dark Lord, though he wasn’t silly enough to say that out loud. \emph{Now what would be a good name for that…? The Death Eater Eaters?} “I’ll see you again soon, when school starts,” Professor McGonagall said. “And, Mr~Potter, about your wand—” “I know what you’re going to ask,” Harry said. He took out his precious wand and, with a deep twinge of inner pain, flipped it over in his hand, presenting her with the handle. “Take it. I hadn’t planned to do anything, not a single thing, but I don’t want you to have nightmares about me blowing up my house.” -Professor McGonagall shook her head rapidly. “Oh no, Mr~Potter! That isn’t done. I only meant to warn you not to \emph{use} your wand at home, since the Ministry can detect under-age magic and it is prohibited without supervision.” +Professor McGonagall shook her head rapidly. “Oh no, Mr~Potter! That isn’t done. I only meant to warn you not to \emph{use} your wand at home, since the Ministry can detect underage magic and it is prohibited without supervision.” “Ah,” Harry said. “That sounds like a very sensible rule. I’m glad to see the wizarding world takes that sort of thing seriously.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-007.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-007.tex index 73ece8269..a40fbeaf4 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-007.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-007.tex @@ -30,9 +30,9 @@ \chapter{Reciprocation} Harry’s throat was hoarse, for some reason. “You can never have enough books,” he recited the Verres family motto, and his father knelt down and gave him a quick, firm embrace. “But you \emph{certainly} tried,” Harry said, and felt himself choking up again. “It was a really, really, \emph{really} good try.” -His Dad straightened. “So…” he said. “Do \emph{you} see a Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?” +His Dad straightened. “So…” he said. “Do \emph{you} see a Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters?” -King’s Cross Station was huge and busy, with walls and floors paved with ordinary dirt-stained tiles. It was full of ordinary people hurrying about their ordinary business, having ordinary conversations which generated lots and lots of ordinary noise. King’s Cross Station had a Platform Nine (which they were standing on) and a Platform Ten (right next to it) but there was nothing between Platform Nine and Platform Ten except a thin, unpromising barrier wall. A great skylight overhead let in plenty of light to illuminate the total lack whatsoever of any Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. +King’s Cross Station was huge and busy, with walls and floors paved with ordinary dirt-stained tiles. It was full of ordinary people hurrying about their ordinary business, having ordinary conversations which generated lots and lots of ordinary noise. King’s Cross Station had a Platform Nine (which they were standing on) and a Platform Ten (right next to it) but there was nothing between Platform Nine and Platform Ten except a thin, unpromising barrier wall. A great skylight overhead let in plenty of light to illuminate the total lack whatsoever of any Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. Harry stared around until his eyes watered, thinking, \emph{come on, mage-sight, come on, mage-sight}, but absolutely nothing appeared to him. He thought about taking out his wand and waving it, but Professor McGonagall had warned him against using his wand. Plus if there was another shower of multicoloured sparks that might lead to being arrested for setting off fireworks inside a train station. And that was assuming his wand didn’t decide to do something else, like blowing up all of King’s Cross. Harry had only lightly skimmed his schoolbooks (though that skim was quite bizarre enough) in a very quick effort to determine what sort of science books to buy over the next 48 hours. @@ -88,7 +88,7 @@ \chapter{Reciprocation} “Ah…Michael dear, there are certain things I thought it would be best not to bother you with until now—” -“Excuse me,” Harry said to the red-headed family who were all staring at him, “but it would be quite extremely helpful if you could tell me how to get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters \emph{right now}.” +“Excuse me,” Harry said to the red-headed family who were all staring at him, “but it would be quite extremely helpful if you could tell me how to get to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters \emph{right now}.” “Ah…” said the woman. She raised a hand and pointed at the wall between platforms. “Just walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous.” @@ -116,7 +116,7 @@ \chapter{Reciprocation} It went entirely without saying that there was no such place in King’s Cross Station and no room to hide it. -\emph{Okay, so either (a)~I just teleported somewhere else entirely (b)~they can fold space like no one’s business or (c)~they are simply ignoring all the rules.} +\emph{Okay, so either (a)~I just teleported somewhere else entirely (b)~they can fold space like nobody’s business or (c)~they are simply ignoring all the rules.} There was a slithering sound behind him, and Harry turned around to observe that his trunk had indeed followed him on its small clawed tentacles. Apparently, for magical purposes, his luggage had also managed to believe with sufficient strength to pass through the barrier. That was actually a little disturbing when Harry started thinking about it. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-008.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-008.tex index db76c0351..dd7b7fa57 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-008.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-008.tex @@ -1,6 +1,6 @@ \chapter{Positive Bias} -\lettrine{N}{o} one had asked for help, that was the problem. They’d just gone around talking, eating, or staring into the air while their parents exchanged gossip. For whatever odd reason, no one had been sitting down reading a book, which meant she couldn’t just sit down next to them and take out her own book. And even when she’d boldly taken the initiative by sitting down and continuing her third read-through of \emph{Hogwarts: A History,} no one had seemed inclined to sit down next to her. +\lettrine{N}{o}-one had asked for help, that was the problem. They’d just gone around talking, eating, or staring into the air while their parents exchanged gossip. For whatever odd reason, no-one had been sitting down reading a book, which meant she couldn’t just sit down next to them and take out her own book. And even when she’d boldly taken the initiative by sitting down and continuing her third read-through of \emph{Hogwarts: A History,} no-one had seemed inclined to sit down next to her. Aside from helping people with their homework, or anything else they needed, she really didn’t know how to meet people. She didn’t \emph{feel} like she was a shy person. She thought of herself as a take-charge sort of girl. And yet, somehow, if there wasn’t some request along the lines of “I can’t remember how to do long division” then it was just too \emph{awkward} to go up to someone and say…what? She’d never been able to figure out what. And there didn’t seem to be a standard information sheet, which was ridiculous. The whole business of meeting people had never seemed sensible to her. Why did \emph{she} have to take all the responsibility herself when there were two people involved? Why didn’t adults ever help? She wished some other girl would just walk up to \emph{her} and say, “Hermione, the teacher told me to be friends with you.” @@ -34,7 +34,7 @@ \chapter{Positive Bias} The boy spoke rather dryly. “Miss~Granger, it has been less than 72~hours since I went to Diagon Alley and discovered my claim to fame. I have spent the last two days buying science books. \emph{Believe me,} I intend to find out everything I can.” The boy hesitated. “What \emph{do} the books say about me?” -Hermione Granger’s mind flashed back, she hadn’t realised she would be tested on \emph{those} books so she’d read them only once, but it was just a month ago so the material was still fresh in her mind. “You’re the only one who’s survived the Killing Curse so you’re called the Boy-Who-Lived. You were born to James Potter and Lily Potter formerly Lily Evans on the 31st of July 1980. On the 31st of October 1981 the Dark Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named though I don’t know why not attacked your home. You were found alive with the scar on your forehead in the ruins of your parents’ house near the burnt remains of You-Know-Who’s body. Chief Warlock Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sent you off somewhere, no one knows where. \emph{The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts} claims that you survived because of your mother’s love and that your scar contains all of the Dark Lord’s magical power and that the centaurs fear you, but \emph{Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century} doesn’t mention anything like that and \emph{Modern Magical History} warns that there are lots of crackpot theories about you.” +Hermione Granger’s mind flashed back, she hadn’t realised she would be tested on \emph{those} books so she’d read them only once, but it was just a month ago so the material was still fresh in her mind. “You’re the only one who’s survived the Killing Curse so you’re called the Boy-Who-Lived. You were born to James Potter and Lily Potter formerly Lily Evans on the 31st of July 1980. On the 31st of October 1981 the Dark Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named though I don’t know why not attacked your home. You were found alive with the scar on your forehead in the ruins of your parents’ house near the burnt remains of You-Know-Who’s body. Chief Warlock Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sent you off somewhere, no-one knows where. \emph{The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts} claims that you survived because of your mother’s love and that your scar contains all of the Dark Lord’s magical power and that the centaurs fear you, but \emph{Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century} doesn’t mention anything like that and \emph{Modern Magical History} warns that there are lots of crackpot theories about you.” The boy’s mouth was hanging open. “Were you told to wait for Harry Potter on the train to Hogwarts, or something like that?” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-010.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-010.tex index f65921b8e..286cb8646 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-010.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-010.tex @@ -117,7 +117,7 @@ That stopped Harry. But not for long. \emph{And of those who did \emph{not} heed the warning—did they \emph{all} become Dark Lords? Or did some of them achieve greatness for good, as well? Just what are the exact percentages here?} -“\emph{I cannot give you exact statistics. I cannot know them so I cannot count them. I just know that your chances don’t feel good. They feel \emph{very} not-good.}” +“\emph{I cannot give you exact statistics. I cannot know them so I cannot count them. I just know that your chances don’t feel good. They feel \emph{very} not good.}” \emph{But I just wouldn’t do that! Ever!} @@ -129,7 +129,7 @@ \emph{Why? Just because I once thought it would be cool to have a legion of brainwashed followers chanting ‘Hail the Dark Lord Harry’?} -“\emph{Amusing, but that was not your first fleeting thought before you substituted something safer, less damaging. No, what you remembered was how you considered lining up all the blood purists and guillotining them. And now you are telling yourself you were not serious, but you were. If you could do it this very moment and no one would ever know, you would. Or what you did this morning to Neville Longbottom, deep inside you \emph{knew} that was wrong but you did it \emph{anyway} because it was \emph{fun} and you had a \emph{good excuse} and you thought the Boy-Who-Lived could \emph{get away} with it—}” +“\emph{Amusing, but that was not your first fleeting thought before you substituted something safer, less damaging. No, what you remembered was how you considered lining up all the blood purists and guillotining them. And now you are telling yourself you were not serious, but you were. If you could do it this very moment and no-one would ever know, you would. Or what you did this morning to Neville Longbottom, deep inside you \emph{knew} that was wrong but you did it \emph{anyway} because it was \emph{fun} and you had a \emph{good excuse} and you thought the Boy-Who-Lived could \emph{get away} with it—}” \emph{That’s unfair! Now you’re just dragging up inner fears that \emph{aren’t} necessarily real! I \emph{worried} that I \emph{might} be thinking like that, but in the end I decided it would probably \emph{work} to help Neville—} @@ -219,7 +219,7 @@ After a moment, Harry heard the Hat laughing too, a strange sad clothy sound. -(And in the Hall beyond, a silence that had grown shallower at first as the background whispers increased, and then deepened as the whispers gave up and died away, falling finally into an utter silence that no one dared disturb with a single word, as Harry stayed under the Hat for long, long minutes, longer than all the previous first-years put together, longer than anyone in living memory. At the Head Table, Dumbledore went on smiling benignly; small metallic sounds occasionally came from Snape’s direction as he idly compacted the twisted remains of what had once been a heavy silver wine goblet; and Minerva McGonagall clenched the podium in a white-knuckled grip, knowing that Harry Potter’s contagious chaos had somehow infected the Sorting Hat itself and the Hat was about to, to demand that a whole new House of Doom be created just to accommodate Harry Potter or something, and \emph{Dumbledore would make her do it}…) +(And in the Hall beyond, a silence that had grown shallower at first as the background whispers increased, and then deepened as the whispers gave up and died away, falling finally into an utter silence that no-one dared disturb with a single word, as Harry stayed under the Hat for long, long minutes, longer than all the previous first-years put together, longer than anyone in living memory. At the Head Table, Dumbledore went on smiling benignly; small metallic sounds occasionally came from Snape’s direction as he idly compacted the twisted remains of what had once been a heavy silver wine goblet; and Minerva McGonagall clenched the podium in a white-knuckled grip, knowing that Harry Potter’s contagious chaos had somehow infected the Sorting Hat itself and the Hat was about to, to demand that a whole new House of Doom be created just to accommodate Harry Potter or something, and \emph{Dumbledore would make her do it}…) Beneath the brim of the Hat, the silent laughter died away. Harry felt sad too for some reason. No, not Gryffindor. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-011.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-011.tex index d6cc838f8..2342815c7 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-011.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-011.tex @@ -10,7 +10,7 @@ \section{Omake Files II} This was the original version of Chapter~9. It was replaced because—while many readers did enjoy it—many other readers had \emph{massive} allergies to songs in fanfics, for reasons that should not much need belabouring. I didn’t want to drive readers away before they got to Chapter~10. -Lee Jordan is the fellow prankster of Fred and George (in canon). “Lee Jordan” had sounded like a Muggleborn name to me, implying that he would be capable of instructing Fred and George on a tune that Harry would know. This was not as obvious to some readers as it was to your author. +Lee Jordan is the fellow prankster of Fred and George (in canon). “Lee Jordan” had sounded like a Muggle-born name to me, implying that he would be capable of instructing Fred and George on a tune that Harry would know. This was not as obvious to some readers as it was to your author. \later @@ -75,7 +75,7 @@ \section{Omake Files II} “\shout{Harry Potter}!” There were a lot more voices shouting it this time. -The Weasley Horrors went off into an extended wailing, now accompanied by some of the older Muggleborns, who had produced their own tiny devices, Transfigured out of the school silverware no doubt. As their music reached its anticlimax, Harry Potter shouted: +The Weasley Horrors went off into an extended wailing, now accompanied by some of the older Muggle-borns, who had produced their own tiny devices, Transfigured out of the school silverware no doubt. As their music reached its anticlimax, Harry Potter shouted: \begin{center} \emph{I ain’t afraid of Dark Lords!} diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-012.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-012.tex index 9a25ece59..ca9503545 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-012.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-012.tex @@ -103,7 +103,7 @@ \chapter{Impulse Control} Harry was mentally imagining himself banging his forehead against the table. \emph{Wham, wham, wham} went his head within his mind. -Another student lowered her voice to a whisper. “I hear that Dumbledore is secretly a genius mastermind controlling lots of stuff and he uses the insanity as a cover so that no one will suspect him.” +Another student lowered her voice to a whisper. “I hear that Dumbledore is secretly a genius mastermind controlling lots of stuff and he uses the insanity as a cover so that no-one will suspect him.” “I’ve heard that too,” whispered a third student, and there were furtive nods from around the table. @@ -115,7 +115,7 @@ \chapter{Impulse Control} \emph{Are you sure this is the Ravenclaw table?} Harry managed not to ask out loud. -“Brilliant!” Harry whispered. “If everyone knows, no one will suspect it’s a secret!” +“Brilliant!” Harry whispered. “If everyone knows, no-one will suspect it’s a secret!” “Exactly,” whispered a student, and then he frowned. “Wait, that doesn’t sound quite right—” @@ -230,7 +230,7 @@ \chapter{Impulse Control} “Ahem,” said Dumbledore from the podium, stroking his long silver beard. “Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.” -“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. That is why it is called the Forbidden Forest. If it were permitted it would be called the Permitted Forest.” +“First-years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. That is why it is called the Forbidden Forest. If it were permitted it would be called the Permitted Forest.” Straightforward. \emph{Note to self: Forbidden Forest is forbidden.} diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-013.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-013.tex index c3974fad8..73b8dfb4f 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-013.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-013.tex @@ -251,7 +251,7 @@ \chapter{Asking the Wrong Questions} “Yes!” Harry said. “A hint! A hint, I say! Only not just \emph{any} hint, I’m looking for a \emph{specific} hint, it’s for a game I’m playing—” -“Yes, yes! A hint for the game! You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you? I’m Cornelion Flubberwalt! I was told by Erin the Consort who was told by Lord Weaselnose who was told by, I forget really. But it was a message for \emph{me} to give to you! For \emph{me!} No one’s cared about me in, I don’t know how long, maybe ever, I’ve been stuck down here in this bloody useless old corridor—a hint! I have your hint! It will only cost you three points! Do you want it?” +“Yes, yes! A hint for the game! You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you? I’m Cornelion Flubberwalt! I was told by Erin the Consort who was told by Lord Weaselnose who was told by, I forget really. But it was a message for \emph{me} to give to you! For \emph{me!} No-one’s cared about me in, I don’t know how long, maybe ever, I’ve been stuck down here in this bloody useless old corridor—a hint! I have your hint! It will only cost you three points! Do you want it?” “Yes! I want it!” Harry was aware that he probably ought to keep his sarcasm under control but he just couldn’t seem to help himself. @@ -275,7 +275,7 @@ \chapter{Asking the Wrong Questions} He was walking down the “big curvy corridor” when he heard a young boy’s voice cry out. -At times like this, Harry had an excuse to sprint all-out with no regards for saving energy or doing proper warm-up exercises or worrying about crashing into things, a sudden frantic flight that nearly came to an equally sudden halt as he almost ran over a group of six first-year Hufflepuffs… +At times like this, Harry had an excuse to sprint all out with no regards for saving energy or doing proper warm-up exercises or worrying about crashing into things, a sudden frantic flight that nearly came to an equally sudden halt as he almost ran over a group of six first-year Hufflepuffs… …who were huddled together, looking rather scared and like they desperately wanted to do something but couldn’t figure out what, which probably had something to do with the group of five older Slytherins who seemed to be surrounding another young boy. @@ -305,7 +305,7 @@ \chapter{Asking the Wrong Questions} “Hello,” Harry said. “I’m the Boy-Who-Lived.” -There was a rather awkward pause. No one seemed to know where the conversation was supposed to go from there. +There was a rather awkward pause. No-one seemed to know where the conversation was supposed to go from there. Harry’s eyes dropped downwards and saw some books and papers scattered around the floor. Oh, the old game where you let the boy try to pick up his books and then knock them out of his hand again. Harry couldn’t remember ever being the object of that game himself, but he had a good imagination and his imagination was making him furious. Well, once the larger situation was resolved it would be easy enough for Neville to come back and pick up his materials, provided that the Slytherins stayed too intent on him to think of doing anything to the books. @@ -507,7 +507,7 @@ \chapter{Asking the Wrong Questions} “So how am I doing in the game?” Harry said out loud. -A sheet of paper flew over his head, as if someone had thrown it from behind him—Harry turned around, but there was no one there—and when Harry turned forwards again, the note was settling to the floor. +A sheet of paper flew over his head, as if someone had thrown it from behind him—Harry turned around, but there was no-one there—and when Harry turned forwards again, the note was settling to the floor. The note said: \begin{align*} diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-014.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-014.tex index f4599f088..68b443d68 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-014.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-014.tex @@ -5,7 +5,7 @@ \chapter{The Unknown and the Unknowable} \hplettrineextrapara Harry did so. -The office of the Deputy Headmistress was clean and well-organised; on the wall immediately adjacent to the desk was a maze of wooden cubbyholes of all shapes and sizes, most with several parchment scrolls thrust into them, and it was somehow very clear that Professor McGonagall knew exactly what every cubbyhole meant, even if no one else did. A single parchment lay on the actual desk, which was, aside from that, clean. Behind the desk was a closed door barred with several locks. +The office of the Deputy Headmistress was clean and well-organised; on the wall immediately adjacent to the desk was a maze of wooden cubbyholes of all shapes and sizes, most with several parchment scrolls thrust into them, and it was somehow very clear that Professor McGonagall knew exactly what every cubbyhole meant, even if no-one else did. A single parchment lay on the actual desk, which was, aside from that, clean. Behind the desk was a closed door barred with several locks. Professor McGonagall was sitting on a backless stool behind the desk, looking puzzled—her eyes had widened, with perhaps a slight note of apprehension, as she saw Harry. @@ -17,7 +17,7 @@ \chapter{The Unknown and the Unknowable} Thankfully, Harry’s panicking brain remembered at this point that he \emph{did} have something he’d been planning to discuss with Professor McGonagall. Something important and well worth her time. -“Um…” Harry said. “If there are any spells you can cast to make sure no one’s listening to us…” +“Um…” Harry said. “If there are any spells you can cast to make sure no-one’s listening to us…” Professor McGonagall stood up from her chair, firmly closed the outer door, and began taking out her wand and saying spells. @@ -27,7 +27,7 @@ \chapter{The Unknown and the Unknowable} Professor McGonagall finished a spell that sounded a lot older than Latin, and then she sat down again. -“All right,” she said in a quiet voice. “No one’s listening.” Her face was rather tight. +“All right,” she said in a quiet voice. “No-one’s listening.” Her face was rather tight. \emph{Oh, right, she’s expecting me to blackmail her for information about the prophecy.} @@ -142,7 +142,7 @@ \chapter{The Unknown and the Unknowable} Harry took a moment to process this. His hands relaxed, just a little, from their white grip on the hourglass chain. Like he wasn’t holding a time machine, just a live nuclear warhead. -“So…” Harry said slowly. “People just find that the universe…happens to be self-consistent, somehow, even though it has time-travel in it. If I and my future self interact then I’ll see the same thing as both of me, even though, on my own first run through, my future self is already acting in full knowledge of things that, from my own perspective, haven’t happened yet…” Harry’s voice trailed off into the inadequacy of English. +“So…” Harry said slowly. “People just find that the universe…happens to be self-consistent, somehow, even though it has time travel in it. If I and my future self interact then I’ll see the same thing as both of me, even though, on my own first run-through, my future self is already acting in full knowledge of things that, from my own perspective, haven’t happened yet…” Harry’s voice trailed off into the inadequacy of English. “Correct, I think,” said Professor McGonagall. “Although wizards \emph{are} advised to avoid being seen by their past selves. If you’re attending two classes at the same time and you need to cross paths with yourself, for example, the first version of you should step aside and close his eyes at a known time—you have a watch already, good—so that the future you can pass. It’s all there in the pamphlet.” @@ -184,7 +184,7 @@ \chapter{The Unknown and the Unknowable} Or would Professor McGonagall have given it to him anyway, only later in the day, whenever he got around to asking about his sleep disorder or telling her about the Sorting Hat’s message? And would he, at that time, have wanted to pull a prank on himself which would have led to him getting the Time-Turner \emph{earlier?} So that the only \emph{self-consistent} possibility was the one in which the Prank started before he even woke up in the morning…? -Harry found himself considering, for the first time in his life, that the answer to his question might be literally \emph{inconceivable.} That since his own brain contained neurons that only ran forwards in time, there was \emph{nothing} his brain could do, no operation it could perform, which was conjugate to the operation of a Time Turner. +Harry found himself considering, for the first time in his life, that the answer to his question might be literally \emph{inconceivable.} That since his own brain contained neurons that only ran forwards in time, there was \emph{nothing} his brain could do, no operation it could perform, which was conjugate to the operation of a Time-Turner. Up until this point Harry had lived by the admonition of E. T. Jaynes that if you were ignorant about a phenomenon, that was a fact about your own state of mind, not a fact about the phenomenon itself; that your uncertainty was a fact about you, not a fact about whatever you were uncertain about; that ignorance existed in the mind, not in reality; that a blank map did not correspond to a blank territory. There were mysterious questions, but a mysterious answer was a contradiction in terms. A phenomenon could be mysterious \emph{to} some particular person, but there could be no phenomena mysterious of themselves. To worship a sacred mystery was just to worship your own ignorance. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-015.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-015.tex index 74253f3f0..4f541973d 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-015.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-015.tex @@ -7,7 +7,7 @@ \chapter{Conscientiousness} Harry was feeling very, very cheated. -There were hundreds of fantasy novels scattered around the Verres household. Harry had read quite a few. And it was starting to look like he had a mysterious dark side. So after the glass of water had refused to cooperate the first few times, Harry had glanced around the Charms classroom to make sure no one was watching, and then taken a deep breath, concentrated, and made himself angry. Thought about the Slytherins bullying Neville, and the game where someone knocked down your books every time you tried to pick them up again. Thought about what Draco Malfoy had said about the ten-year-old Lovegood girl and how the Wizengamot really operated… +There were hundreds of fantasy novels scattered around the Verres household. Harry had read quite a few. And it was starting to look like he had a mysterious dark side. So after the glass of water had refused to cooperate the first few times, Harry had glanced around the Charms classroom to make sure no-one was watching, and then taken a deep breath, concentrated, and made himself angry. Thought about the Slytherins bullying Neville, and the game where someone knocked down your books every time you tried to pick them up again. Thought about what Draco Malfoy had said about the ten-year-old Lovegood girl and how the Wizengamot really operated… And the fury had entered his blood, he had held out his wand in a hand that trembled with hate and said in cold tones “\emph{Frigideiro!}” and absolutely nothing had happened. @@ -21,7 +21,7 @@ \chapter{Conscientiousness} As of Monday, Harry was headed for the bottom of the class, a position for which he was companionably rivalling all the other Muggle-raised students except Hermione. Who was all alone and rival-less at the top, poor thing. -Professor Flitwick was standing over the desk of one of the other Muggleborns and quietly adjusting the way she was holding her wand. +Professor Flitwick was standing over the desk of one of the other Muggle-borns and quietly adjusting the way she was holding her wand. Harry looked over at Hermione. He swallowed hard. It was the obvious role for her in the scheme of things…”Hermione?” Harry said tentatively. “Do you have any idea what I might be doing wrong?” @@ -39,7 +39,7 @@ \chapter{Conscientiousness} “Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. There was no trace of any levity upon the face of the stern old witch. “Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.” -Her wand came down and tapped her desk, which smoothly reshaped itself into a pig. A couple of Muggleborn students gave out small yelps. The pig looked around and snorted, seeming confused, and then became a desk again. +Her wand came down and tapped her desk, which smoothly reshaped itself into a pig. A couple of Muggle-born students gave out small yelps. The pig looked around and snorted, seeming confused, and then became a desk again. The Transfiguration Professor looked around the classroom, and then her eyes settled on one student. @@ -147,7 +147,7 @@ \chapter{Conscientiousness} Half an hour before the end of class, Professor McGonagall handed out the matches. -At the end of the class Hermione had a silvery-looking match and the entire rest of the class, Muggleborn or otherwise, had exactly what they’d started with. +At the end of the class Hermione had a silvery-looking match and the entire rest of the class, Muggle-born or otherwise, had exactly what they’d started with. Professor McGonagall awarded her another point for Ravenclaw. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-016.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-016.tex index 437821f62..910182f16 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-016.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-016.tex @@ -136,7 +136,7 @@ \chapter{Lateral Thinking} \later -At 2:35\pm, when most of the seats were taken and no one else seemed to be coming in, Professor Quirrell gave a sudden jerk in his chair and sat up straight, and his face appeared on all the flat, white rectangular objects that were propped up on the students’ desks. +At 2:35\pm, when most of the seats were taken and no-one else seemed to be coming in, Professor Quirrell gave a sudden jerk in his chair and sat up straight, and his face appeared on all the flat, white rectangular objects that were propped up on the students’ desks. Harry was taken by surprise, both by the sudden appearance of Professor Quirrell’s face and by the resemblance to Muggle television. There was something both nostalgic and sad about that, it seemed so much like a piece of home and yet it wasn’t really… @@ -208,7 +208,7 @@ \chapter{Lateral Thinking} There was another high-pitched “bing” from the floating blue sphere that Professor Quirrell had assigned to Harry as his target. That particular sound meant a perfect strike, which Harry had managed on nine out of his last ten attempts. -Somewhere Professor Quirrell had dug up a spell that was incredibly easy to pronounce, \emph{and} had a ridiculously simple wand motion, \emph{and} had a tendency to hit wherever you were currently looking at. Professor Quirrell had disdainfully proclaimed that real battle magic was far more difficult than this. That the hex was entirely useless in actual combat. That it was a barely ordered burst of magic whose only real content was the aiming, and that it would produce, when it hit, a pain briefly equivalent to being punched hard in the nose. That the sole purpose of this test was to see who was a fast learner, since Professor Quirrell was certain no one would have previously encountered this hex or anything like it. +Somewhere Professor Quirrell had dug up a spell that was incredibly easy to pronounce, \emph{and} had a ridiculously simple wand motion, \emph{and} had a tendency to hit wherever you were currently looking at. Professor Quirrell had disdainfully proclaimed that real battle magic was far more difficult than this. That the hex was entirely useless in actual combat. That it was a barely ordered burst of magic whose only real content was the aiming, and that it would produce, when it hit, a pain briefly equivalent to being punched hard in the nose. That the sole purpose of this test was to see who was a fast learner, since Professor Quirrell was certain no-one would have previously encountered this hex or anything like it. Harry didn’t care about any of that. @@ -248,7 +248,7 @@ \chapter{Lateral Thinking} “Hermione Granger mastered a completely unfamiliar spell in two minutes, almost a full minute faster than the next runner-up.” Professor Quirrell turned slowly in place to look at all the students watching them. “Could Miss~Granger’s intelligence make her the most dangerous student in the classroom? Well? What do you think?” -No one seemed to be thinking anything at the moment. Even Harry wasn’t sure what to say. +No-one seemed to be thinking anything at the moment. Even Harry wasn’t sure what to say. “Let’s find out, shall we?” said Professor Quirrell. He turned back to Hermione, and gestured toward the wider class. “Select any student you like and cast the Simple Strike Hex on them.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-017.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-017.tex index d62273697..ad54f24b9 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-017.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-017.tex @@ -41,7 +41,7 @@ \chapter{Locating the Hypothesis} Harry reviewed in his mind the algorithm that he would follow. -If Harry opened up Paper-2 and it was blank, then he would write “101~$\times$~101” down on Paper-1, fold it up, study for an hour, go back in time, drop off Paper-1 (which would thereby become Paper-2), and head on up out of the cavern level to join his dorm mates for breakfast. +If Harry opened up Paper-2 and it was blank, then he would write “101~$\times$~101” down on Paper-1, fold it up, study for an hour, go back in time, drop off Paper-1 (which would thereby become Paper-2), and head on up out of the cavern level to join his dorm-mates for breakfast. If Harry opened up Paper-2 and it had two numbers written on it, Harry would multiply those numbers together. @@ -81,7 +81,7 @@ \chapter{Locating the Hypothesis} Also: seriously, \emph{broomsticks?} He was going to fly on, basically, a line segment? Wasn’t that pretty much the single most unstable shape you could possibly find, short of attempting to hold on to a point marble? Who’d selected \emph{that} design for a flying device, out of all the possibilities? Harry had been hoping that it was just a figure of speech, but no, they were standing in front of what looked for all the world like ordinary wooden kitchen broomsticks. Had someone just got stuck on the idea of broomsticks and failed to consider anything else? It had to be. There was no way that the \emph{optimal} designs for cleaning kitchens and flying would happen to coincide if you worked them out from scratch. -It was a clear day with a bright blue sky and a brilliant sun that was just begging to get in your eyes and make it impossible to see, if you were trying to fly around the sky. The ground was nice and dry, smelling positively baked, and somehow felt very, very hard under Harry’s shoes. +It was a clear day with a bright-blue sky and a brilliant sun that was just begging to get in your eyes and make it impossible to see, if you were trying to fly around the sky. The ground was nice and dry, smelling positively baked, and somehow felt very, very hard under Harry’s shoes. Harry kept reminding himself that the lowest common denominator of eleven-year-olds was expected to learn this and it couldn’t be that hard. @@ -229,7 +229,7 @@ \chapter{Locating the Hypothesis} “Contest” had been as far as Harry’s inspiration had got. What sort of contest, he couldn’t say “chess” because Draco wouldn’t be able to accept without it looking strange, he couldn’t say “arm-wrestling” because Mr~Goyle would crush him— -“How about this?” Harry said loudly. “Gregory Goyle and I stand apart from each other, and no one else is allowed to come near either of us. We don’t use our wands and neither does anyone else. I don’t move from where I’m standing, and neither does he. And if I can get my hands on Neville’s Remembrall, then Gregory Goyle relinquishes all claim to that Remembrall he’s holding and gives it to me.” +“How about this?” Harry said loudly. “Gregory Goyle and I stand apart from each other, and no-one else is allowed to come near either of us. We don’t use our wands and neither does anyone else. I don’t move from where I’m standing, and neither does he. And if I can get my hands on Neville’s Remembrall, then Gregory Goyle relinquishes all claim to that Remembrall he’s holding and gives it to me.” There was another pause as people’s looks of relief transmuted to confusion. @@ -249,7 +249,7 @@ \chapter{Locating the Hypothesis} Everyone else backed away. -Harry swallowed. He knew in broad outline what he \emph{wanted} to do, but it had to be done in such a way that no one understood \emph{what} he’d done— +Harry swallowed. He knew in broad outline what he \emph{wanted} to do, but it had to be done in such a way that no-one understood \emph{what} he’d done— “All right,” Harry said loudly. “And now…” He took a deep breath and raised one hand, fingers ready to snap. There were gasps from anyone who’d heard about the pies, which was practically everyone. “\emph{I call upon the insanity of Hogwarts! Happy happy boom boom swamp swamp swamp!}” And Harry snapped his fingers. @@ -301,7 +301,7 @@ \chapter{Locating the Hypothesis} “No, wait, I mean, that’s \emph{totally} not possible—” -“Excuse me, are we all standing around here waiting to go flying on broomsticks? Yes we are. So shut up. Anyway, once I get my hands on Neville’s Remembrall, the contest is over and Gregory Goyle has to relinquish all claim to the Remembrall he’s holding and give it to me. Those were the terms, remember?” Harry stretched out a hand and beckoned Ernie. “Just roll it over here, since no one’s supposed to get close to me, okay?” +“Excuse me, are we all standing around here waiting to go flying on broomsticks? Yes we are. So shut up. Anyway, once I get my hands on Neville’s Remembrall, the contest is over and Gregory Goyle has to relinquish all claim to the Remembrall he’s holding and give it to me. Those were the terms, remember?” Harry stretched out a hand and beckoned Ernie. “Just roll it over here, since no-one’s supposed to get close to me, okay?” “Hold on!” shouted a Slytherin—Blaise Zabini, Harry wasn’t likely to forget that name. “How do we know that’s Neville’s Remembrall? You could’ve just dropped \emph{another} Remembrall there—” @@ -481,7 +481,7 @@ \chapter{Locating the Hypothesis} “Er, no thank you, Heh,” said Harry. \emph{Does slipping a student LSD count as hurting them, or does that fall into the category of harmless fun?} “You, um, said something about my being too young to invoke the words of power and madness?” -“That you most certainly are!” Dumbledore said. “Thankfully the Words of Power and Madness were lost seven centuries ago and no one has the slightest idea what they are any more. It was just a little remark.” +“That you most certainly are!” Dumbledore said. “Thankfully the Words of Power and Madness were lost seven centuries ago and no-one has the slightest idea what they are any more. It was just a little remark.” “Ah…” Harry said. He was aware that his mouth was hanging open. “Why did you call me here, then?” @@ -501,11 +501,11 @@ \chapter{Locating the Hypothesis} A jolt of adrenaline shot through Harry. He’d done that using the Cloak of Invisibility, the one that had been given him in a Christmas box along with a note, and that note had said: \emph{If Dumbledore saw a chance to possess one of the Deathly Hallows he would never let it escape his grasp….} -“A natural thought,” Dumbledore went on, “is that since none of the first-years present were able to cast such a spell, someone else was present, and yet unseen. And if no one could see them, why, it would be easy enough for them to throw the pies. One might further suspect that since you had a Time-Turner, you were the invisible one; and that since the spell of Disillusionment is far beyond your current abilities, you had an invisibility cloak.” Dumbledore smiled conspiratorially. “Am I on the right track so far, Harry?” +“A natural thought,” Dumbledore went on, “is that since none of the first-years present were able to cast such a spell, someone else was present, and yet unseen. And if no-one could see them, why, it would be easy enough for them to throw the pies. One might further suspect that since you had a Time-Turner, you were the invisible one; and that since the spell of Disillusionment is far beyond your current abilities, you had an invisibility cloak.” Dumbledore smiled conspiratorially. “Am I on the right track so far, Harry?” Harry was frozen. He had the feeling that an outright lie would not at all be wise, and possibly not the least bit helpful, and he couldn’t think of anything else to say. -Dumbledore waved a friendly hand. “Don’t worry, Harry, you haven’t done anything wrong. Invisibility cloaks aren’t against the rules—I suppose they’re rare enough that no one ever got around to putting them on the list. But really I was wondering something else entirely.” +Dumbledore waved a friendly hand. “Don’t worry, Harry, you haven’t done anything wrong. Invisibility cloaks aren’t against the rules—I suppose they’re rare enough that no-one ever got around to putting them on the list. But really I was wondering something else entirely.” “Oh?” Harry said in the most normal voice he could manage. @@ -527,7 +527,7 @@ \chapter{Locating the Hypothesis} The old wizard reached into the pouch, and without saying any word of retrieval, drew forth the Cloak of Invisibility. -“Ah,” breathed Dumbledore. “I was right…” He poured the shimmering black velvet mesh through his hand. “Centuries old, and still as perfect as the day it was made. We have lost much of our art over the years, and now I cannot make such a thing myself, no one can. I can feel the power of it like an echo in my mind, like a song forever being sung without anyone to hear it…” The wizard looked up from the Cloak. “Do not sell it,” he said, “do not give it to anyone as a possession. Think twice before you show it to anyone, and ponder three times again before you reveal it is a Deathly Hallow. Treat it with respect, for this is indeed a Thing of Power.” +“Ah,” breathed Dumbledore. “I was right…” He poured the shimmering black velvet mesh through his hand. “Centuries old, and still as perfect as the day it was made. We have lost much of our art over the years, and now I cannot make such a thing myself, no-one can. I can feel the power of it like an echo in my mind, like a song forever being sung without anyone to hear it…” The wizard looked up from the Cloak. “Do not sell it,” he said, “do not give it to anyone as a possession. Think twice before you show it to anyone, and ponder three times again before you reveal it is a Deathly Hallow. Treat it with respect, for this is indeed a Thing of Power.” For a moment Dumbledore’s face grew wistful… @@ -575,15 +575,15 @@ \chapter{Locating the Hypothesis} “It’s not \emph{that} funny,” Harry said after a while. He was starting to worry about Dumbledore’s sanity again. -Dumbledore got himself under control again with a visible effort. “Ah, Harry, one symptom of the disease called wisdom is that you begin laughing at things that no one else thinks is funny, because when you’re wise, Harry, you start getting the jokes!” The old wizard wiped tears away from his eyes. “Ah, me. Ah, me. Oft evil will shall evil mar indeed, in very deed.” +Dumbledore got himself under control again with a visible effort. “Ah, Harry, one symptom of the disease called wisdom is that you begin laughing at things that no-one else thinks is funny, because when you’re wise, Harry, you start getting the jokes!” The old wizard wiped tears away from his eyes. “Ah, me. Ah, me. Oft evil will shall evil mar indeed, in very deed.” Harry’s brain took a moment to place the familiar words…”Hey, that’s a \emph{Tolkien} quote! \emph{Gandalf} says that!” “Théoden, actually,” said Dumbledore. -“You’re \emph{Muggleborn?}” Harry said in shock. +“You’re \emph{Muggle-born?}” Harry said in shock. -“I’m afraid not,” said Dumbledore, smiling again. “I was born seventy years before that book was published, dear child. But it seems that my Muggleborn students tend to think alike in certain ways. I have accumulated no fewer than twenty copies of \emph{The Lord of the Rings} and three sets of Tolkien’s entire collected works, and I treasure every one of them.” Dumbledore drew his wand and held it up and struck a pose. “\emph{You cannot pass!} How does that look?” +“I’m afraid not,” said Dumbledore, smiling again. “I was born seventy years before that book was published, dear child. But it seems that my Muggle-born students tend to think alike in certain ways. I have accumulated no fewer than twenty copies of \emph{The Lord of the Rings} and three sets of Tolkien’s entire collected works, and I treasure every one of them.” Dumbledore drew his wand and held it up and struck a pose. “\emph{You cannot pass!} How does that look?” “Ah,” Harry said in something approaching complete brain shutdown, “I think you’re missing a Balrog.” And the pink pyjamas and squashed mushroom hat were not helping in the slightest. @@ -620,7 +620,7 @@ \chapter{Locating the Hypothesis} “Ah…” Harry said. It looked rather heavy. “I’d think the other students would tend to ask me questions about that.” -“Tell them I ordered you to do it,” said Dumbledore. “No one will question that, since they all think I’m insane.” His face was still perfectly serious. +“Tell them I ordered you to do it,” said Dumbledore. “No-one will question that, since they all think I’m insane.” His face was still perfectly serious. “Er, to be honest if you go around ordering your students to carry large rocks I can kind of see why people would think that.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-018.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-018.tex index ccec99fa4..1ff7dc09a 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-018.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-018.tex @@ -102,7 +102,7 @@ \chapter{Dominance Hierarchies} “Present.” -And so it went, no one daring to say a word in edgewise, until: +And so it went, no-one daring to say a word in edgewise, until: “Ah, yes. Harry Potter. Our new…\emph{celebrity.}” @@ -116,7 +116,7 @@ \chapter{Dominance Hierarchies} When full attendance had been taken, Severus swept his gaze over the full class. His eyes were as empty as a night sky without stars. -“You are here,” Severus said in a quiet voice which the students at back strained to hear, “to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins,” this in a rather caressing, gloating tone, “bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses,” this was just getting creepier and creepier. “I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren’t as great a pack of fools as I usually have to teach.” +“You are here,” Severus said in a quiet voice which the students at back strained to hear, “to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins,” this in a rather caressing, gloating tone, “bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses,” this was just getting creepier and creepier. “I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren’t as great a pack of fools as I usually have to teach.” Severus somehow seemed to notice the look of skepticism on Harry’s face, or at least his eyes suddenly jumped to where Harry was sitting. @@ -144,13 +144,13 @@ \chapter{Dominance Hierarchies} “I didn’t \emph{say} it would, I said that was what I read in one Muggle book—” -“No one here is interested in your \emph{pathetic} Muggle books. Final try. What is the difference, Potter, between monksblood and wolfsbane?” +“No-one here is interested in your \emph{pathetic} Muggle books. Final try. What is the difference, Potter, between monksblood and wolfsbane?” That did it. “You know,” Harry said icily, “in one of my quite \emph{fascinating} Muggle books, they describe a study in which people managed to make themselves look very smart by asking questions about random facts that only they knew. Apparently the onlookers only noticed that the askers knew and the answerers didn’t, and failed to adjust for the unfairness of the underlying game. So, Professor, can you tell me how many electrons are in the outermost orbital of a carbon atom?” -Severus’s smile widened. “Four,” he said. “It is a useless fact which no one should bother writing down, however. And for your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite, as you would know if you had read \emph{One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.} Thought you didn’t need to open the book before coming, eh, Potter? All the rest of you should be copying that down so that you will not be as ignorant as him.” Severus paused, looking quite pleased with himself. “And that will be…five points? No, let us make it an even ten points from Ravenclaw for backchat.” +Severus’s smile widened. “Four,” he said. “It is a useless fact which no-one should bother writing down, however. And for your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite, as you would know if you had read \emph{One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.} Thought you didn’t need to open the book before coming, eh, Potter? All the rest of you should be copying that down so that you will not be as ignorant as him.” Severus paused, looking quite pleased with himself. “And that will be…five points? No, let us make it an even ten points from Ravenclaw for backchat.” Hermione gasped, along with a number of others. @@ -254,7 +254,7 @@ \chapter{Dominance Hierarchies} “You’re insane, Potter,” Severus said with cold contempt. -Aside from that, no one spoke. +Aside from that, no-one spoke. Harry swept an ironic bow to the teacher’s desk, walked over to the wall, and with one smooth motion yanked open a closet door, stepped in, and slammed the door shut behind him. @@ -272,7 +272,7 @@ \chapter{Dominance Hierarchies} C-L-O-A-K, his fingers spelled out. -Once he was invisible, he very carefully and slowly cracked open the closet door and peeked out. No one seemed to be in the classroom. +Once he was invisible, he very carefully and slowly cracked open the closet door and peeked out. No-one seemed to be in the classroom. The door wasn’t locked. @@ -482,7 +482,7 @@ \chapter{Dominance Hierarchies} Silence. -“Now what?” Minerva said, when it became apparent that no one else was going to say anything. +“Now what?” Minerva said, when it became apparent that no-one else was going to say anything. “Now what?” Dumbledore echoed. “Why, now the hero wins, of course.” @@ -508,7 +508,7 @@ \chapter{Dominance Hierarchies} “Bwah ha ha!” said Dumbledore. -“Ah…” said Harry uncertainly. “And if anyone asks me why fifth years and above got shafted? I wouldn’t blame them for being irate, and that part wasn’t exactly my idea—” +“Ah…” said Harry uncertainly. “And if anyone asks me why fifth-years and above got shafted? I wouldn’t blame them for being irate, and that part wasn’t exactly my idea—” “Tell them,” said Dumbledore, “that it wasn’t you who suggested the compromise, that it was all you could get. And then refuse to say anything more. That, too, is true. There’s an art to it, you’ll pick it up with practice.” @@ -680,7 +680,7 @@ \chapter{Dominance Hierarchies} Fifteen minutes into lunch hour. -No one was speaking to Harry. Some of the Ravenclaws were shooting him looks of anger, others of sympathy, a few of the youngest students even had looks of admiration, but no one was talking to him. Even Hermione hadn’t tried to come over. +No-one was speaking to Harry. Some of the Ravenclaws were shooting him looks of anger, others of sympathy, a few of the youngest students even had looks of admiration, but no-one was talking to him. Even Hermione hadn’t tried to come over. Fred and George had gingerly stepped near. They hadn’t said anything. The offer was clear, and its optionality. Harry had told them that he would come over when dessert started, no earlier. They had nodded and quickly walked away. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-019.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-019.tex index fc398263b..bb0003089 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-019.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-019.tex @@ -374,7 +374,7 @@ \chapter{Delayed Gratification} Professor Quirrell looked over the class. “Does anyone else wish to become strong?” -Some students glanced around nervously. Some, Harry thought from his back row, looked like they were opening their mouths but not saying anything. In the end, no one spoke. +Some students glanced around nervously. Some, Harry thought from his back row, looked like they were opening their mouths but not saying anything. In the end, no-one spoke. “Draco Malfoy will be one of the generals of your year’s armies,” said Professor Quirrell, “should he deign to engage in that after-school activity. And now, Mr~Potter, please come forward.” @@ -518,7 +518,7 @@ \chapter{Delayed Gratification} His dark side, when it was in control, had held to the imagination of this moment, and went on pretending to lose. -Harry said, “No one will—” +Harry said, “No-one will—” “Stop,” said Professor Quirrell. “If that’s what I think it is, please wait until after they’re gone. They’ll hear about it later. We all have our lessons to learn, Mr~Potter.” @@ -528,7 +528,7 @@ \chapter{Delayed Gratification} The older Slytherins fled and the door closed behind them. -“No one’s to take any revenge on them,” Harry said hoarsely. “That’s a request to anyone who considers themselves my friend. I had my lesson to learn, they helped me learn it, they had their lesson to learn too, it’s over. If you tell this story, make sure you tell that part too.” +“No-one’s to take any revenge on them,” Harry said hoarsely. “That’s a request to anyone who considers themselves my friend. I had my lesson to learn, they helped me learn it, they had their lesson to learn too, it’s over. If you tell this story, make sure you tell that part too.” Harry turned to look at Professor Quirrell. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-020.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-020.tex index cc230f8be..239ff015c 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-020.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-020.tex @@ -443,7 +443,7 @@ \chapter{Bayes’s Theorem} “Please be discreet about the whole matter, Mr~Potter,” Professor Quirrell said. “I prefer to go through my life without attracting public notice. You will find nothing in the newspapers about Quirinus Quirrell until I decided it was time for me to teach Defence at Hogwarts.” -That seemed a little sad, but Harry understood. Then Harry realized the implications. “So just how much awesome stuff \emph{have} you done that no one else knows about—” +That seemed a little sad, but Harry understood. Then Harry realized the implications. “So just how much awesome stuff \emph{have} you done that no-one else knows about—” “Oh, some,” said Professor Quirrell. “But I think that’s quite enough for today, Mr~Potter, I confess I am feeling a bit tired—” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-021.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-021.tex index b37e0d88c..1c2ac3ba7 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-021.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-021.tex @@ -184,11 +184,11 @@ \chapter{Rationalization} “You can \emph{always} make the answer come out your way,” said Draco. That had been practically the first thing his tutors had taught him. “It’s just a matter of finding the right arguments.” -“No,” said the shadowy figure, voice rising in frustration, “no, no, no! Then you get the \emph{wrong answer} and you can’t go to the Moon that way! Nature isn’t a person, you can’t trick them into believing something else, if you try to tell the Moon it’s made of cheese you can argue for days and it won’t change the Moon! What you’re talking about is \emph{rationalization}, like starting with a sheet of paper, moving straight down to the bottom line, using ink to write ‘and \emph{therefore,} the Moon is made of cheese’, and then moving back up to write all sorts of clever arguments above. But either the Moon is made of cheese or it isn’t. The moment you wrote the bottom line, it was already true or already false. Whether or not the whole sheet of paper ends up with the right conclusion or the wrong conclusion is fixed the instant you write down the bottom line. If you’re trying to pick between two expensive trunks, and you like the shiny one, it doesn’t matter what clever arguments you come up with for buying it, the \emph{real} rule you used to \emph{choose which trunk to argue for} was ‘pick the shiny one’, and however effective that rule is at picking good trunks, that’s the kind of trunk you’ll get. Rationality \emph{can’t} be used to argue for a fixed side, its only possible use is \emph{deciding which side to argue}. Science isn’t for \emph{convincing} anyone that the blood purists are right. That’s \emph{politics!} The power of science comes from \emph{finding out the way Nature really is that can’t be changed by arguing!} What science \emph{can} do is tell us \emph{how blood really works,} how wizards really inherit their powers from their parents, and whether Muggleborns are really weaker or stronger—” +“No,” said the shadowy figure, voice rising in frustration, “no, no, no! Then you get the \emph{wrong answer} and you can’t go to the Moon that way! Nature isn’t a person, you can’t trick them into believing something else, if you try to tell the Moon it’s made of cheese you can argue for days and it won’t change the Moon! What you’re talking about is \emph{rationalization}, like starting with a sheet of paper, moving straight down to the bottom line, using ink to write ‘and \emph{therefore,} the Moon is made of cheese’, and then moving back up to write all sorts of clever arguments above. But either the Moon is made of cheese or it isn’t. The moment you wrote the bottom line, it was already true or already false. Whether or not the whole sheet of paper ends up with the right conclusion or the wrong conclusion is fixed the instant you write down the bottom line. If you’re trying to pick between two expensive trunks, and you like the shiny one, it doesn’t matter what clever arguments you come up with for buying it, the \emph{real} rule you used to \emph{choose which trunk to argue for} was ‘pick the shiny one’, and however effective that rule is at picking good trunks, that’s the kind of trunk you’ll get. Rationality \emph{can’t} be used to argue for a fixed side, its only possible use is \emph{deciding which side to argue}. Science isn’t for \emph{convincing} anyone that the blood purists are right. That’s \emph{politics!} The power of science comes from \emph{finding out the way Nature really is that can’t be changed by arguing!} What science \emph{can} do is tell us \emph{how blood really works,} how wizards really inherit their powers from their parents, and whether Muggle-borns are really weaker or stronger—” “\emph{Stronger!}” said Draco. He had been trying to follow this, a puzzled frown on his face, he could see how it \emph{sort} of made sense but it certainly wasn’t like anything he’d ever heard before. And then Harry Potter had said something Draco couldn’t possibly let pass. “You think mudbloods are \emph{stronger?}” -“I think nothing,” said the shadowy figure. “I know nothing. I believe nothing. My bottom line is not yet written. I will figure out how to test the magical strength of Muggleborns, and the magical strength of purebloods. If my tests tell me that Muggleborns are weaker, I will believe they are weaker. If my tests tell me that Muggleborns are stronger, I will believe they are stronger. Knowing this and other truths, I will gain some measure of power—” +“I think nothing,” said the shadowy figure. “I know nothing. I believe nothing. My bottom line is not yet written. I will figure out how to test the magical strength of Muggle-borns, and the magical strength of purebloods. If my tests tell me that Muggle-borns are weaker, I will believe they are weaker. If my tests tell me that Muggle-borns are stronger, I will believe they are stronger. Knowing this and other truths, I will gain some measure of power—” “And you expect \emph{me} to believe whatever you say?” Draco demanded hotly. @@ -240,7 +240,7 @@ \chapter{Rationalization} “Right,” Draco said, his voice now very firm. “\emph{We} won’t. We’re wizards, and studying science doesn’t make us Muggles.” -“As you say,” said the green-lit silhouette. “We will establish our \emph{own} Science, a magical Science, and that Science will have smarter traditions from the very start.” The voice grew hard. “The knowledge I share with you will be taught alongside the disciplines of accepting truth, the level of this knowledge will be keyed to your progress in those disciplines, and you will share that knowledge with no one else who has not learned those disciplines. Do you accept this?” +“As you say,” said the green-lit silhouette. “We will establish our \emph{own} Science, a magical Science, and that Science will have smarter traditions from the very start.” The voice grew hard. “The knowledge I share with you will be taught alongside the disciplines of accepting truth, the level of this knowledge will be keyed to your progress in those disciplines, and you will share that knowledge with no-one else who has not learned those disciplines. Do you accept this?” “Yes,” said Draco. What was he supposed to do, say no? @@ -333,7 +333,7 @@ \chapter{Rationalization} It was Sunday morning and Harry was eating pancakes in the Great Hall, sharp quick bites, glancing nervously at his watch every few seconds. -It was 8:02\am, and in precisely two hours and one minute, it would be \emph{exactly one week} since he’d seen the Weasleys and crossed over onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. +It was 8:02\am, and in precisely two hours and one minute, it would be \emph{exactly one week} since he’d seen the Weasleys and crossed over onto Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. And the thought had occurred to him…Harry didn’t know if this was a valid way to think about the universe, he didn’t know anything any more, but it \emph{seemed possible…} @@ -435,7 +435,7 @@ \chapter{Rationalization} \later -And Harry was sitting in the cavern level of his trunk, slid shut and locked so no one could get in, a blanket pulled over his head, waiting for the week to be over. +And Harry was sitting in the cavern level of his trunk, slid shut and locked so no-one could get in, a blanket pulled over his head, waiting for the week to be over. 10:01. @@ -449,7 +449,7 @@ \chapter{Rationalization} A few moments later, he had emerged into the bright sunlit air of his dorm. -Shortly after, and he was in the Ravenclaw common room. A few people looked at him, but no one said anything or tried to talk to him. +Shortly after, and he was in the Ravenclaw common room. A few people looked at him, but no-one said anything or tried to talk to him. Harry found a nice wide writing desk, pulled back a comfortable chair, and sat down. From his pouch he drew a sheet of paper and a pencil. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-022.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-022.tex index 159150a79..b81fe0c68 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-022.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-022.tex @@ -64,7 +64,7 @@ \chapter{The Scientific Method} You couldn’t \emph{really} need to say ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ in exactly the right way in order to levitate something, because, come on, ‘Wingardium Leviosa’? The universe was going to check that you said ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ in exactly the right way and otherwise it wouldn’t make the quill float? -No. Obviously no, once you thought about it seriously. Someone, quite possibly an actual preschool child, but at any rate some English-speaking magic user, who thought that ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ sounded all flappy and floaty, had originally spoken those words while casting the spell for the first time. And then told everyone else it was necessary. +No. Obviously no, once you thought about it seriously. Someone, quite possibly an actual preschool child, but at any rate some English-speaking magic-user, who thought that ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ sounded all flappy and floaty, had originally spoken those words while casting the spell for the first time. And then told everyone else it was necessary. But (Harry had reasoned) it didn’t \emph{have} to be that way, it wasn’t built into the universe, it was built into \emph{you}. @@ -98,7 +98,7 @@ \chapter{The Scientific Method} More than two centuries after science had got started. That late in scientific history, it still hadn’t been obvious. -Which made it \emph{entirely} plausible that in the tiny wizarding world, where science didn’t seem much known at all, no one had ever tried the first, the simplest, the most obvious thing that any modern scientist would think to check. +Which made it \emph{entirely} plausible that in the tiny wizarding world, where science didn’t seem much known at all, no-one had ever tried the first, the simplest, the most obvious thing that any modern scientist would think to check. The books were full of complicated instructions for all the things you had to do \emph{exactly right} in order to cast a spell. And, Harry had hypothesized, the process of obeying those instructions, of checking that you were following them correctly, probably \emph{did} do something. It \emph{forced you to concentrate on the spell}. Being told to just wave your wand and wish probably \emph{wouldn’t} work as well. And once you believed the spell was supposed to work a certain way, once you had practised it that way, you might not be able to convince yourself that it could work any \emph{other} way… @@ -320,7 +320,7 @@ \chapter{The Scientific Method} To be fair, Draco had to admit that Harry Potter had tried the Socratic Method first and it hadn’t been working too well. -Harry Potter had asked how Draco would go about \emph{disproving} the blood purist hypothesis that wizards couldn’t do the neat stuff now that they’d done eight centuries ago because they had interbred with Muggleborns and Squibs. +Harry Potter had asked how Draco would go about \emph{disproving} the blood-purist hypothesis that wizards couldn’t do the neat stuff now that they’d done eight centuries ago because they had interbred with Muggle-borns and Squibs. Draco had said that he did not understand how Harry Potter could sit there with a straight face and claim this was not a trap. @@ -386,7 +386,7 @@ \chapter{The Scientific Method} My conclusion: Wizardkind has become weaker by mixing\\ -their blood with Muggleborns and Squibs. +their blood with Muggle-borns and Squibs. \end{writtenNote} “Dr~Malfoy,” said Dr~Potter with a hopeful look, “I was wondering if the \emph{Journal of Irreproducible Results} could consider for publication my paper entitled ‘On the Heritability of Magical Ability’.” @@ -459,7 +459,7 @@ \chapter{The Scientific Method} “I…I don’t know…” -“You told me that no one had matched the four founders of Hogwarts. So it’s been going on for at least eight centuries, then? You can’t remember hearing anything about the problems suddenly appearing five centuries ago or anything like that?” +“You told me that no-one had matched the four founders of Hogwarts. So it’s been going on for at least eight centuries, then? You can’t remember hearing anything about the problems suddenly appearing five centuries ago or anything like that?” Draco was trying frantically to think. “I always heard that nobody was as good as Merlin and then after that nobody was as good as the Founders of Hogwarts.” @@ -511,7 +511,7 @@ \chapter{The Scientific Method} Draco stared at the list in shock. He was suddenly realizing that he knew an awful lot of purebloods who were only children. Himself, Vincent, Gregory, practically \emph{everyone.} The two most powerful wizards everyone talked about were Dumbledore and the Dark Lord and neither had any children just like Harry had suspected… -“It’s going to be really hard to distinguish between 2 and 6,” Harry said, “it’s in the blood either way, you’d have to try and track the decline of wizardry and compare that to how many kids different wizards were having and measure the abilities of Muggleborns compared to purebloods…” Harry’s fingers were tapping nervously on the desk. “Let’s just lump 6 in with 2 and call them the blood hypothesis for now. 4 is unlikely because then everyone would notice a sudden drop when the wizards switched to new foods, it’s hard to see what would’ve changed steadily over 800 years. 5 is unlikely for the same reason, no sudden drop, Muggles weren’t doing anything 800 years back. 4 looks like 2 and 5 looks like 1 anyway. So mainly we should be trying to distinguish between 1, 2, and 3.” Harry turned the parchment to himself, drew an ellipse around those three numbers, turned it back. “Magic is fading, blood is weakening, knowledge is disappearing. What test comes out differently depending on which of those is true? What could we see that would mean any one of these was false?” +“It’s going to be really hard to distinguish between 2 and 6,” Harry said, “it’s in the blood either way, you’d have to try and track the decline of wizardry and compare that to how many kids different wizards were having and measure the abilities of Muggle-borns compared to purebloods…” Harry’s fingers were tapping nervously on the desk. “Let’s just lump 6 in with 2 and call them the blood hypothesis for now. 4 is unlikely because then everyone would notice a sudden drop when the wizards switched to new foods, it’s hard to see what would’ve changed steadily over 800 years. 5 is unlikely for the same reason, no sudden drop, Muggles weren’t doing anything 800 years back. 4 looks like 2 and 5 looks like 1 anyway. So mainly we should be trying to distinguish between 1, 2, and 3.” Harry turned the parchment to himself, drew an ellipse around those three numbers, turned it back. “Magic is fading, blood is weakening, knowledge is disappearing. What test comes out differently depending on which of those is true? What could we see that would mean any one of these was false?” “\emph{I} don’t know!” blurted Draco. “Why are you asking me? You’re the scientist!” @@ -551,7 +551,7 @@ \chapter{The Scientific Method} \emph{C. Additional test that distinguishes 1 and 2 using scientific knowledge of blood, will explain later.} -“Okay,” said Harry, “we can at least try to tell the difference between 1 and 2 and 3, so let’s go with this right away, we can figure out \emph{more} tests after we do the ones we already have. Now it’s going to look a little odd if Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter go around asking questions together, so here’s my idea. You’ll go through Hogwarts and find old portraits and ask them about what spells they learned to cast during their first years. They’re portraits so they won’t know there’s anything odd about Draco Malfoy doing that. I’ll ask recent portraits and living people about spells we know but can’t cast, no one will notice anything unusual if Harry Potter asks weird questions. And I’ll have to do complicated research about forgotten spells, so I want you to be the one to gather the data I need for my own scientific question. It’s a simple question and you should be able to find the answer by asking portraits. You might want to write this down, ready?” +“Okay,” said Harry, “we can at least try to tell the difference between 1 and 2 and 3, so let’s go with this right away, we can figure out \emph{more} tests after we do the ones we already have. Now it’s going to look a little odd if Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter go around asking questions together, so here’s my idea. You’ll go through Hogwarts and find old portraits and ask them about what spells they learned to cast during their first years. They’re portraits so they won’t know there’s anything odd about Draco Malfoy doing that. I’ll ask recent portraits and living people about spells we know but can’t cast, no-one will notice anything unusual if Harry Potter asks weird questions. And I’ll have to do complicated research about forgotten spells, so I want you to be the one to gather the data I need for my own scientific question. It’s a simple question and you should be able to find the answer by asking portraits. You might want to write this down, ready?” Draco sat down again and scrabbled in his book bag for parchment and quill. When it was laid down on the desk, Draco looked up, face determined. “Go ahead.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-023.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-023.tex index eabce09b2..444972f10 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-023.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-023.tex @@ -42,11 +42,11 @@ \chapter{Belief in Belief} Draco listened with his mouth open. How in Merlin’s name had the Muggles figured all this out? They could \emph{see} the recipe? -“Now,” Harry Potter said, “suppose that, just like with tallness, there’s lots of little places in the recipe where you can have a piece of paper that says ‘magic’ or ‘not magic’. If you have enough pieces of paper saying ‘magic’ you’re a wizard, if you have a \emph{lot} of pieces of paper you’re a powerful wizard, if you have too few you’re a Muggle, and in between you’re a Squib. Then, when two Squibs marry, most of the time the children should also be Squibs, but once in a while a child will get lucky and get most of the father’s magic papers \emph{and} most of the mother’s magic papers, and be strong enough to be a wizard. But probably not a very powerful one. If you started out with a lot of powerful wizards and they married only each other, they would stay powerful. But if they started marrying Muggleborns who were just barely magical, or Squibs…you see? The blood wouldn’t mix perfectly, it would be a glass of pebbles, not a glass of water, because that’s just the way blood works. There would still be powerful wizards now and then, when they got a lot of magic papers by luck. But they wouldn’t be as powerful as the most powerful wizards from earlier.” +“Now,” Harry Potter said, “suppose that, just like with tallness, there’s lots of little places in the recipe where you can have a piece of paper that says ‘magic’ or ‘not magic’. If you have enough pieces of paper saying ‘magic’ you’re a wizard, if you have a \emph{lot} of pieces of paper you’re a powerful wizard, if you have too few you’re a Muggle, and in between you’re a Squib. Then, when two Squibs marry, most of the time the children should also be Squibs, but once in a while a child will get lucky and get most of the father’s magic papers \emph{and} most of the mother’s magic papers, and be strong enough to be a wizard. But probably not a very powerful one. If you started out with a lot of powerful wizards and they married only each other, they would stay powerful. But if they started marrying Muggle-borns who were just barely magical, or Squibs…you see? The blood wouldn’t mix perfectly, it would be a glass of pebbles, not a glass of water, because that’s just the way blood works. There would still be powerful wizards now and then, when they got a lot of magic papers by luck. But they wouldn’t be as powerful as the most powerful wizards from earlier.” Draco nodded slowly. He’d never heard it explained that way before. There was a surprising beauty to how exactly it fit. -“\emph{But,}” Harry said. “That’s only \emph{one} hypothesis. Suppose that instead there’s only a \emph{single} place in the recipe that makes you a wizard. Only \emph{one} place where a piece of paper can say ‘magic’ or ‘not magic’. And there are two copies of everything, always. So then there are only three possibilities. Both copies can say ‘magic’. One copy can say ‘magic’ and one copy can say ‘not magic’. Or both copies can say ‘not magic’. Wizards, Squibs, and Muggles. Two copies and you can cast spells, one copy and you can still use potions or magic devices, and zero copies means you might even have trouble looking straight at magic. Muggleborns wouldn’t really be born to Muggles, they would be born to two Squibs, two parents each with one magic copy who’d grown up in the Muggle world. Now imagine a witch marries a Squib. Each child will get one paper saying ‘magic’ from the mother, always, it doesn’t matter which piece gets picked at random, both say ‘magic’. But like flipping a coin, half the time the child will get a paper saying ‘magic’ from the father, and half the time the child will get the father’s paper saying ‘not magic’. When a witch marries a Squib, the result won’t be a lot of weak wizarding children. Half the children will be wizards and witches just as powerful as their mother, and half the children will be Squibs. Because if there’s just \emph{one} place in the recipe that makes you a wizard, then magic isn’t like a glass of pebbles that can mix. It’s like a single magical pebble, a sorcerer’s stone.” +“\emph{But,}” Harry said. “That’s only \emph{one} hypothesis. Suppose that instead there’s only a \emph{single} place in the recipe that makes you a wizard. Only \emph{one} place where a piece of paper can say ‘magic’ or ‘not magic’. And there are two copies of everything, always. So then there are only three possibilities. Both copies can say ‘magic’. One copy can say ‘magic’ and one copy can say ‘not magic’. Or both copies can say ‘not magic’. Wizards, Squibs, and Muggles. Two copies and you can cast spells, one copy and you can still use potions or magic devices, and zero copies means you might even have trouble looking straight at magic. Muggle-borns wouldn’t really be born to Muggles, they would be born to two Squibs, two parents each with one magic copy who’d grown up in the Muggle world. Now imagine a witch marries a Squib. Each child will get one paper saying ‘magic’ from the mother, always, it doesn’t matter which piece gets picked at random, both say ‘magic’. But like flipping a coin, half the time the child will get a paper saying ‘magic’ from the father, and half the time the child will get the father’s paper saying ‘not magic’. When a witch marries a Squib, the result won’t be a lot of weak wizarding children. Half the children will be wizards and witches just as powerful as their mother, and half the children will be Squibs. Because if there’s just \emph{one} place in the recipe that makes you a wizard, then magic isn’t like a glass of pebbles that can mix. It’s like a single magical pebble, a sorcerer’s stone.” Harry arranged three pairs of papers side by side. On one pair he wrote ‘magic’ and ‘magic’. On another pair he wrote ‘magic’ on the top paper only. And the third pair he left blank. @@ -187,7 +187,7 @@ \chapter{Belief in Belief} “Oh,” Draco said, the anger starting to come out into his voice, “you didn’t know how the whole thing was going to come out?” -“I didn’t \emph{know} anything you didn’t know,” Harry said, still quietly. “I admit that I suspected. Hermione Granger was too powerful, she should have been barely magical and she wasn’t, how can a Muggleborn be the best spell-caster in Hogwarts? And she’s getting the best grades on her essays too, it’s too much coincidence for one girl to be the strongest magically \emph{and} academically unless there’s a single cause. Hermione Granger’s existence pointed to there being only one thing that makes you a wizard, something you either have or you don’t, and the power differences coming from how much we know and how much we practise. And there weren’t different classes for purebloods and Muggleborns, and so on. There were too many ways the world didn’t look the way it would look if you were right. But Draco, I didn’t see anything you couldn’t see too. I didn’t perform any tests I didn’t tell you about. I didn’t cheat, Draco. I wanted us to work out the answer together. And I never thought that magic might be fading out of the world until you said it. It was a scary idea for me, too.” +“I didn’t \emph{know} anything you didn’t know,” Harry said, still quietly. “I admit that I suspected. Hermione Granger was too powerful, she should have been barely magical and she wasn’t, how can a Muggle-born be the best spell-caster in Hogwarts? And she’s getting the best grades on her essays too, it’s too much coincidence for one girl to be the strongest magically \emph{and} academically unless there’s a single cause. Hermione Granger’s existence pointed to there being only one thing that makes you a wizard, something you either have or you don’t, and the power differences coming from how much we know and how much we practise. And there weren’t different classes for purebloods and Muggle-borns, and so on. There were too many ways the world didn’t look the way it would look if you were right. But Draco, I didn’t see anything you couldn’t see too. I didn’t perform any tests I didn’t tell you about. I didn’t cheat, Draco. I wanted us to work out the answer together. And I never thought that magic might be fading out of the world until you said it. It was a scary idea for me, too.” “Whatever,” Draco said. He was working very hard to control his voice and not just start screaming at Harry. “You claim you’re not going to run off and tell anyone else about this.” @@ -211,11 +211,11 @@ \chapter{Belief in Belief} “\emph{That’s not true!}” said Draco. “I didn’t sacrifice the belief. I still believe that!” His voice was getting louder, and the chill was getting worse. -Harry Potter shook his head. His voice came in a whisper. “Draco…I’m sorry, Draco, you \emph{don’t} believe it, not any more.” Harry’s voice rose again. “I’ll prove it to you. Imagine that someone tells you they’re keeping a dragon in their house. You tell them you want to see it. They say it’s an invisible dragon. You say fine, you’ll listen to it move. They say it’s an inaudible dragon. You say you’ll throw some cooking flour into the air and see the outline of the dragon. They say the dragon is permeable to flour. And the telling thing is that they know, in \emph{advance,} exactly which experimental results they’ll have to explain away. They \emph{know} everything will come out the way it does if there’s no dragon, they know in \emph{advance} just which excuses they’ll have to make. So maybe they \emph{say} there’s a dragon. Maybe they \emph{believe} they believe there’s a dragon, it’s called belief-in-belief. But they don’t actually believe it. You can be mistaken about what you believe, most people never realize there’s a difference between believing something and thinking it’s good to believe it.” Harry Potter had risen from the desk now, and taken a few steps toward Draco. “And Draco, you don’t believe any more in blood purism, I’ll show you that you don’t. If blood purism is true, then Hermione Granger doesn’t make sense, so what could explain her? Maybe she’s a wizarding orphan raised by Muggles, just like I was? I could go to Granger and ask to see pictures of her parents, to see if she looks like them. Would you expect her to look different? Should we go perform that test?” +Harry Potter shook his head. His voice came in a whisper. “Draco…I’m sorry, Draco, you \emph{don’t} believe it, not any more.” Harry’s voice rose again. “I’ll prove it to you. Imagine that someone tells you they’re keeping a dragon in their house. You tell them you want to see it. They say it’s an invisible dragon. You say fine, you’ll listen to it move. They say it’s an inaudible dragon. You say you’ll throw some cooking flour into the air and see the outline of the dragon. They say the dragon is permeable to flour. And the telling thing is that they know, in \emph{advance,} exactly which experimental results they’ll have to explain away. They \emph{know} everything will come out the way it does if there’s no dragon, they know in \emph{advance} just which excuses they’ll have to make. So maybe they \emph{say} there’s a dragon. Maybe they \emph{believe} they believe there’s a dragon, it’s called “belief in belief”. But they don’t actually believe it. You can be mistaken about what you believe, most people never realize there’s a difference between believing something and thinking it’s good to believe it.” Harry Potter had risen from the desk now, and taken a few steps toward Draco. “And Draco, you don’t believe any more in blood purism, I’ll show you that you don’t. If blood purism is true, then Hermione Granger doesn’t make sense, so what could explain her? Maybe she’s a wizarding orphan raised by Muggles, just like I was? I could go to Granger and ask to see pictures of her parents, to see if she looks like them. Would you expect her to look different? Should we go perform that test?” “They would have put her with relatives,” Draco said, his voice trembling. “They’ll still look the same.” -“You see. You already know what experimental result you’ll have to excuse. If you still believed in blood purism you would say, sure, let’s go take a look, I bet she won’t look like her parents, she’s too powerful to be a real Muggleborn—” +“You see. You already know what experimental result you’ll have to excuse. If you still believed in blood purism you would say, sure, let’s go take a look, I bet she won’t look like her parents, she’s too powerful to be a real Muggle-born—” “They \emph{would} have put her with relatives!” @@ -344,7 +344,7 @@ \chapter{Belief in Belief} In retrospect, Harry had given himself hours to make the most important discovery in the history of magic, and months to break through the undeveloped mental barriers of an eleven-year-old boy. This could indicate that Harry had some sort of major cognitive deficit with respect to estimating task completion times. -Was Harry going to Science Hell for what he’d done? Harry wasn’t sure. He’d contrived to keep Draco’s mind on the possibility that magic was fading, made sure Draco would carry out the part of the experiment that would seem at first to point in that direction. He’d waited until after explaining genetics to prompt Draco into realizing about magical creatures (though Harry had thought in terms of ancient artifacts like the Sorting Hat, which no one could duplicate any more, but which continued to function). But Harry hadn’t actually exaggerated any evidence, hadn’t distorted the meaning of any results. When the Interdict of Merlin had invalidated the test that should have been definitive, he’d told Draco up front. +Was Harry going to Science Hell for what he’d done? Harry wasn’t sure. He’d contrived to keep Draco’s mind on the possibility that magic was fading, made sure Draco would carry out the part of the experiment that would seem at first to point in that direction. He’d waited until after explaining genetics to prompt Draco into realizing about magical creatures (though Harry had thought in terms of ancient artifacts like the Sorting Hat, which no-one could duplicate any more, but which continued to function). But Harry hadn’t actually exaggerated any evidence, hadn’t distorted the meaning of any results. When the Interdict of Merlin had invalidated the test that should have been definitive, he’d told Draco up front. And then there was the part \emph{after} that… @@ -396,7 +396,7 @@ \chapter{Belief in Belief} Harry swallowed hard. Tears were coming into his eyes again. -His brilliantly creative mind had just offered the ingenious suggestion that Harry could cut his hand off using the hacksaw in the tool-set stored in his pouch, which would hurt, obviously, but might hurt a lot less than Draco’s pain spell, since the nerves would be gone; and he had tourniquets in the healer’s kit. +His brilliantly creative mind had just offered the ingenious suggestion that Harry could cut his hand off using the hacksaw in the tool set stored in his pouch, which would hurt, obviously, but might hurt a lot less than Draco’s pain spell, since the nerves would be gone; and he had tourniquets in the healer’s kit. And that was obviously a hideously stupid idea that Harry would regret the rest of his entire life. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-024.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-024.tex index db3c1eca6..adc4702ee 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-024.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-024.tex @@ -36,7 +36,7 @@ \section{Act 3:} It was slowly dawning on Draco what an \emph{absolute} fool he’d been, far worse than the older Slytherins he’d chewed out. -He’d just taken for granted that no one would go to the authorities when a Malfoy did something to them. That no one would want Lucius Malfoy’s eye on them, ever. +He’d just taken for granted that no-one would go to the authorities when a Malfoy did something to them. That no-one would want Lucius Malfoy’s eye on them, ever. But Harry Potter wasn’t a frightened little Hufflepuff trying to stay out of the game. He was already playing it, and Father’s eye was already on him. @@ -266,7 +266,7 @@ \section{Act 3:} And that wasn’t going to stop Draco’s revenge or even slow it down. -“So,” Draco said, after looking around to make certain no one was nearby. Their voices would both be Blurred, of course, but it never hurt to be extra sure. “I’ve been thinking. When we bring new recruits into the Conspiracy, they’re going to have to \emph{think} we’re equals. Otherwise it would only take \emph{one} of them to blow the plot to Father. You already worked that out, right?” +“So,” Draco said, after looking around to make certain no-one was nearby. Their voices would both be Blurred, of course, but it never hurt to be extra sure. “I’ve been thinking. When we bring new recruits into the Conspiracy, they’re going to have to \emph{think} we’re equals. Otherwise it would only take \emph{one} of them to blow the plot to Father. You already worked that out, right?” “Naturally,” said Harry. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-025.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-025.tex index afee99c5f..5ff272396 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-025.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-025.tex @@ -27,9 +27,9 @@ \section{Act 2:\protect\footnotemark} So \emph{complex, interdependent} machinery, the powerful sophisticated protein machines that drove life, was always \emph{universal} within a sexually reproducing species—except for a small handful of \emph{non}-interdependent \emph{variants} that were being selected on at any given time, as further complexity was slowly laid down. It was why all human beings had the same underlying brain design, the same emotions, the same facial expressions wired up to those emotions; those adaptations were complex, so they \emph{had} to be universal. -If magic had been like that, a big complex adaptation with lots of necessary genes, then a wizard mating with a Muggle would have resulted in a child with only half those parts and half the machine wouldn’t do much. And so there would have been no Muggleborns, ever. Even if all the pieces had individually entered the Muggle gene pool, they’d never reassemble all in one place to form a wizard. +If magic had been like that, a big complex adaptation with lots of necessary genes, then a wizard mating with a Muggle would have resulted in a child with only half those parts and half the machine wouldn’t do much. And so there would have been no Muggle-borns, ever. Even if all the pieces had individually entered the Muggle gene pool, they’d never reassemble all in one place to form a wizard. -There hadn’t been some genetically isolated valley of humans that had stumbled onto an evolutionary pathway leading to sophisticated magical sections of the brain. That complex genetic machinery, if wizards interbred with Muggles, would never have reassembled into Muggleborns. +There hadn’t been some genetically isolated valley of humans that had stumbled onto an evolutionary pathway leading to sophisticated magical sections of the brain. That complex genetic machinery, if wizards interbred with Muggles, would never have reassembled into Muggle-borns. So however your genes made you a wizard, it \emph{wasn’t} by containing the blueprints for complicated machinery. @@ -67,7 +67,7 @@ \section{Act 2:\protect\footnotemark} Harry slumped over at the breakfast table, resting his forehead wearily on his right hand. -There was a story from the dawn days of Artificial Intelligence—back when they were just starting out and no one had yet realized the problem would be difficult—about a professor who had delegated one of his grad students to solve the problem of computer vision. +There was a story from the dawn days of Artificial Intelligence—back when they were just starting out and no-one had yet realized the problem would be difficult—about a professor who had delegated one of his grad students to solve the problem of computer vision. Harry was beginning to understand how that grad student must have felt. @@ -141,7 +141,7 @@ \section{Act 2:\protect\footnotemark} “Intermittent one fixed itself again. Other one’s same as ever.” -The Map was an extraordinarily powerful artefact, capable of tracking every sentient being on the school grounds, in real time, by name. Almost certainly, it had been created during the original raising of Hogwarts. It was \emph{not good} that errors were starting to pop up. Chances were that no one except Dumbledore could fix it if it was broken. +The Map was an extraordinarily powerful artefact, capable of tracking every sentient being on the school grounds, in real time, by name. Almost certainly, it had been created during the original raising of Hogwarts. It was \emph{not good} that errors were starting to pop up. Chances were that no-one except Dumbledore could fix it if it was broken. And the Weasley twins weren’t about to turn the Map over to Dumbledore. It would have been an unforgivable insult to the Marauders—the four unknowns who’d managed to steal part of the \emph{Hogwarts security system}, something probably forged by Salazar Slytherin himself, and twist it into \emph{a tool for student pranking}. @@ -411,7 +411,7 @@ \section{Act 2:\protect\footnotemark} Fred blinked. “What do you mean, \emph{impossible?}” -“So impossible that we don’t get in trouble, because no one believes we could have done it. So impossible that even Harry starts wondering. It has to be surreal, it has to make people doubt their own sanity, it has to be…\emph{better than Harry.}” +“So impossible that we don’t get in trouble, because no-one believes we could have done it. So impossible that even Harry starts wondering. It has to be surreal, it has to make people doubt their own sanity, it has to be…\emph{better than Harry.}” Fred’s eyes were wide in astonishment. This happened sometimes, between them, but not often. “But why?” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-026.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-026.tex index e0a076846..30a392d6c 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-026.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-026.tex @@ -68,7 +68,7 @@ \chapter{Noticing Confusion} The inkwell caught fire in Professor Quirrell’s hands and burned with a terrible slowness, hideous black-orange flames tearing at the metal and seeming to take tiny bites from it, the silver twisting as it melted, as though it were trying and failing to escape. There was a tinny shrieking sound, as though the metal were screaming. -“I suppose you are right,” Professor Quirrell said with a resigned smile. “I shall design a lecture to ensure that Muggleborns who are too stupid to live do not take anyone valuable with them as they depart.” +“I suppose you are right,” Professor Quirrell said with a resigned smile. “I shall design a lecture to ensure that Muggle-borns who are too stupid to live do not take anyone valuable with them as they depart.” The inkwell went on screaming and burning in Professor Quirrell’s hands, tiny droplets of metal, still on fire, now dripping to the desk, as though the inkwell were crying. @@ -118,7 +118,7 @@ \chapter{Noticing Confusion} He’d done homework in the safety of his trunk for the next couple of hours, after telling his dorm-mates to come get him if anyone found him an original newspaper. -Harry was still ignorant at 10\am, when he’d left Hogwarts in a carriage with Professor Quirrell, who was in the front right, and currently slumped over in zombie-mode. Harry was sitting diagonally across, as far away as the carriage allowed, in the back left. Even so, Harry had a constant feeling of doom as the carriage rattled over a small path through a section of non-forbidden forest. It made it a bit hard to read, especially since the material was difficult, and Harry suddenly wished he was reading one of his childhood science fiction books instead— +Harry was still ignorant at 10\am, when he’d left Hogwarts in a carriage with Professor Quirrell, who was in the front right, and currently slumped over in zombie-mode. Harry was sitting diagonally across, as far away as the carriage allowed, in the back left. Even so, Harry had a constant feeling of doom as the carriage rattled over a small path through a section of non-forbidden forest. It made it a bit hard to read, especially since the material was difficult, and Harry suddenly wished he was reading one of his childhood science-fiction books instead— “We’re outside the wards, Mr~Potter,” said Professor Quirrell’s voice from the front. “Time to go.” @@ -287,7 +287,7 @@ \chapter{Noticing Confusion} They walked in the direction of the Gringotts building, thinking, for they were neither of them the sort of person who would give up on the problem without considering it for at least five minutes. -“I have a feeling,” Harry said finally, “that we’re coming at this from the wrong angle. There’s a tale I once heard about some students who came into a physics class, and the teacher showed them a large metal plate near a fire. She ordered them to feel the metal plate, and they felt that the metal nearer the fire was cooler, and the metal further away was warmer. And she said, write down your guess for why this happens. So some students wrote down ‘because of how the metal conducts heat’, and some students wrote down ‘because of how the air moves’, and no one said ‘this just seems impossible’, and the real answer was that before the students came into the room, the teacher turned the plate around.” +“I have a feeling,” Harry said finally, “that we’re coming at this from the wrong angle. There’s a tale I once heard about some students who came into a physics class, and the teacher showed them a large metal plate near a fire. She ordered them to feel the metal plate, and they felt that the metal nearer the fire was cooler, and the metal further away was warmer. And she said, write down your guess for why this happens. So some students wrote down ‘because of how the metal conducts heat’, and some students wrote down ‘because of how the air moves’, and no-one said ‘this just seems impossible’, and the real answer was that before the students came into the room, the teacher turned the plate around.” “Interesting,” said Professor Quirrell. “That does sound similar. Is there a moral?” @@ -326,7 +326,7 @@ \chapter{Noticing Confusion} The second part of the plan had been a complete failure. -Harry was not allowed to take money out of his vault without Headmaster Dumbledore or some other school official present, and Professor Quirrell had not been given the vault key. Harry’s Muggle parents could not authorize it because they were Muggles, and Muggles had around the same legal standing as children or kittens: they were cute, so if you tortured them in public you could get arrested, but they weren’t \emph{people}. Some reluctant provision had been made for recognizing the parents of Muggleborns as human in a limited sense, but Harry’s adoptive parents did not fall into that legal category. +Harry was not allowed to take money out of his vault without Headmaster Dumbledore or some other school official present, and Professor Quirrell had not been given the vault key. Harry’s Muggle parents could not authorize it because they were Muggles, and Muggles had around the same legal standing as children or kittens: they were cute, so if you tortured them in public you could get arrested, but they weren’t \emph{people}. Some reluctant provision had been made for recognizing the parents of Muggle-borns as human in a limited sense, but Harry’s adoptive parents did not fall into that legal category. It seemed that Harry was effectively an orphan in the eyes of the wizarding world. As such, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, or his deputies \emph{within} the school system, were Harry’s guardians until he graduated. Harry \emph{could} breathe without Dumbledore’s permission, but only so long as the Headmaster did not specifically prohibit it. @@ -490,7 +490,7 @@ \chapter{Noticing Confusion} But by the time the waitress had bowed her way out, Professor Quirrell was sitting upright and smiling again. -Still, the brief episode of whatever-it-was had decided Harry. He couldn’t say no, not after Professor Quirrell had gone to that much trouble. +Still, the brief episode of whatever it was had decided Harry. He couldn’t say no, not after Professor Quirrell had gone to that much trouble. “Yes,” Harry said. @@ -512,7 +512,7 @@ \chapter{Noticing Confusion} “What \emph{is} this?” said Harry. -“That,” said Professor Quirrell, “is a record of the magical researches of a Muggleborn who never came to Hogwarts. He refused his letter, and conducted his own small investigations, which never did get very far without a wand. From the description on the placard, I expect that his name bears rather more significance to you than to me. That, Harry Potter, is the diary of Roger Bacon.” +“That,” said Professor Quirrell, “is a record of the magical researches of a Muggle-born who never came to Hogwarts. He refused his letter, and conducted his own small investigations, which never did get very far without a wand. From the description on the placard, I expect that his name bears rather more significance to you than to me. That, Harry Potter, is the diary of Roger Bacon.” Harry almost fainted. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-027.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-027.tex index b792822e7..6bb1a17f7 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-027.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-027.tex @@ -43,7 +43,7 @@ \chapter{Empathy} But everything was still all right, they’d tell Dad some day, and meanwhile… -…meanwhile Dumbledore had happened to sneeze while passing them in the hallway, and a small package had accidentally dropped out of his pockets, and inside had been two matched wardbreaker’s monocles of \emph{incredible} quality. The Weasley twins had tested their new monocles on the “forbidden” third-floor corridor, making a quick trip to the magic mirror and back, and they hadn’t been able to see \emph{all} the detection webs clearly, but the monocles had shown a \emph{lot} more than they’d seen the first time. +…meanwhile Dumbledore had happened to sneeze while passing them in the hallway, and a small package had accidentally dropped out of his pockets, and inside had been two matched ward-breaker’s monocles of \emph{incredible} quality. The Weasley twins had tested their new monocles on the “forbidden” third-floor corridor, making a quick trip to the magic mirror and back, and they hadn’t been able to see \emph{all} the detection webs clearly, but the monocles had shown a \emph{lot} more than they’d seen the first time. Of course they would have to be very careful never to get caught with the monocles in their possession, or they would end up in the Headmaster’s office getting a stern lecture and maybe even threats of expulsion. @@ -247,7 +247,7 @@ \chapter{Empathy} And… -…the book said that a successful Legilimens was extremely rare, rarer than a perfect Occlumens, because almost no one had enough mental discipline. +…the book said that a successful Legilimens was extremely rare, rarer than a perfect Occlumens, because almost no-one had enough mental discipline. \emph{Mental discipline?} @@ -335,7 +335,7 @@ \chapter{Empathy} \later -There is a main hallway running through the middle of Hogwarts’s second floor on the north-south axis, and near the centre of this hallway there is an opening into a short corridor which goes a dozen paces back before turning at a right angle, making an L-shape, and then goes a dozen paces more before it ends at a bright, wide window, looking out from three stories above upon the light drizzle falling over the east grounds of Hogwarts. Standing by the window you can hear nothing of the main hallway, and no one in the hallway would hear what went on by the window. If you think there is anything odd about this, you haven’t been in Hogwarts very long. +There is a main hallway running through the middle of Hogwarts’s second floor on the north-south axis, and near the centre of this hallway there is an opening into a short corridor which goes a dozen paces back before turning at a right angle, making an L-shape, and then goes a dozen paces more before it ends at a bright, wide window, looking out from three stories above upon the light drizzle falling over the east grounds of Hogwarts. Standing by the window you can hear nothing of the main hallway, and no-one in the hallway would hear what went on by the window. If you think there is anything odd about this, you haven’t been in Hogwarts very long. Four boys in red-trimmed robes are laughing, and a boy in green-trimmed robes is screaming and grabbing frantically onto the edges of the opened window with his hands, as the four boys make as though to push him out. It’s just a joke, of course, and besides, a fall from that height wouldn’t kill a wizard. All good fun. If you think there is anything odd about this— @@ -447,7 +447,7 @@ \chapter{Empathy} “So Lessy sneaked to you,” said the ringleader coldly. -“Sure,” said Harry Potter dryly, “and he also told me what you did today after you left Charms class, in a private secluded place where no one could see you, with a certain Hufflepuff girl wearing a white ribbon in her hair—” +“Sure,” said Harry Potter dryly, “and he also told me what you did today after you left Charms class, in a private secluded place where no-one could see you, with a certain Hufflepuff girl wearing a white ribbon in her hair—” The ringleader’s jaw dropped in shock. @@ -643,13 +643,13 @@ \chapter{Empathy} “You are a very forgiving person,” Severus said, still smiling. “I suppose your stepfather, Michael Verres-Evans, was the one who taught it to you.” -“More like Dad’s science fiction and fantasy collection,” said Harry. “Sort of my fifth parent, really. I’ve lived the lives of all the characters in all my books, and all their mighty wisdom thunders in my head. Somewhere in there was someone like Lesath, I expect, though I couldn’t say who. It wasn’t hard to put myself in his shoes. And it was my books that told me what to do about it, too. The good guys forgive.” +“More like Dad’s science-fiction and fantasy collection,” said Harry. “Sort of my fifth parent, really. I’ve lived the lives of all the characters in all my books, and all their mighty wisdom thunders in my head. Somewhere in there was someone like Lesath, I expect, though I couldn’t say who. It wasn’t hard to put myself in his shoes. And it was my books that told me what to do about it, too. The good guys forgive.” Severus gave a light, amused laugh. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know much about what good people do.” Harry looked at him. That was kind of sad, actually. “I’ll lend you some novels with good people in them, if you like.” -“I should like to ask your advice about something,” Severus said, his voice casual. “I know of another fifth-year Slytherin who was being bullied by Gryffindors. He was wooing a beautiful Muggleborn girl, who came across him being bullied, and tried to rescue him. And he called her a mudblood, and that was the end for them. He apologized, many times, but she never forgave him. Have you any thoughts for what he could have said or done, to win from her the forgiveness you gave Lestrange?” +“I should like to ask your advice about something,” Severus said, his voice casual. “I know of another fifth-year Slytherin who was being bullied by Gryffindors. He was wooing a beautiful Muggle-born girl, who came across him being bullied, and tried to rescue him. And he called her a mudblood, and that was the end for them. He apologized, many times, but she never forgave him. Have you any thoughts for what he could have said or done, to win from her the forgiveness you gave Lestrange?” “Erm,” Harry said, “based on only that information, I’m not sure \emph{he} was the main one who had a problem. I’d have told him not to date someone that incapable of forgiveness. Suppose they’d married, can you imagine life in that household?” @@ -749,7 +749,7 @@ \chapter{Empathy} Harry had read about Dementors. Cold and darkness surrounded them, and fear, they sucked away all your happy thoughts and in that absence all your worst memories rose to the surface. -He could imagine himself in Lesath’s shoes, knowing that his parents were in Azkaban for life, that place from which no one had ever escaped. +He could imagine himself in Lesath’s shoes, knowing that his parents were in Azkaban for life, that place from which no-one had ever escaped. And Lesath would be imagining himself in his mother’s place, in the cold and the darkness and the fear, alone with all of her worst memories, even in her dreams, every second of every day. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-028.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-028.tex index 4fc087223..560b9c68a 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-028.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-028.tex @@ -16,7 +16,7 @@ \chapter{Reductionism} Slowly, Harry took his mechanical pencil in his hand, and reached over to the sheet of paper with all the items crossed out, and drew a line through the item that said ‘ALZHEIMER’S CURE’. -They couldn’t have fed anyone a Transfigured pill. But Transfiguration, at least the kind they could do, didn’t enchant the targets—it wouldn’t Transfigure a regular broomstick into a flying one. So if Hermione had been able to make a pill at all, it would have been a \emph{non-magical} pill, one that worked for ordinary material reasons. They could have secretly made pills for a Muggle science lab, let them \emph{study} the pills and try to reverse-engineer them before the Transfiguration wore off…no one in either world would need to know that magic had been involved, it would just be another scientific breakthrough… +They couldn’t have fed anyone a Transfigured pill. But Transfiguration, at least the kind they could do, didn’t enchant the targets—it wouldn’t Transfigure a regular broomstick into a flying one. So if Hermione had been able to make a pill at all, it would have been a \emph{non-magical} pill, one that worked for ordinary material reasons. They could have secretly made pills for a Muggle science lab, let them \emph{study} the pills and try to reverse-engineer them before the Transfiguration wore off…no-one in either world would need to know that magic had been involved, it would just be another scientific breakthrough… It hadn’t been the sort of thing a wizard would think of, either. They didn’t respect mere \emph{patterns of atoms} that much, they didn’t think of unenchanted \emph{material} things as objects of power. If it wasn’t magical, it wasn’t interesting. @@ -78,7 +78,7 @@ \chapter{Reductionism} “Oh, Hermione, how \emph{could} you?” -“You’re sweet when you’re mean,” she said. “But Harry, this is nuts, I’m twelve, you’re eleven, it’s \emph{silly} to think we’re going to discover anything that no one’s ever figured out before.” +“You’re sweet when you’re mean,” she said. “But Harry, this is nuts, I’m twelve, you’re eleven, it’s \emph{silly} to think we’re going to discover anything that no-one’s ever figured out before.” “Are you really saying we should give up on unravelling the secrets of magic after trying for less than one \emph{month?}” Harry said, trying to put a note of challenge into his voice. Honestly he was feeling some of the same fatigue as Hermione. None of the \emph{good} ideas ever worked. He’d made just one discovery worth mentioning, the Mendelian pattern, and he couldn’t tell Hermione about it without breaking his promise to Draco. @@ -212,7 +212,7 @@ \chapter{Reductionism} Harry pressed his wand harder against that tiny section of eraser, and tried to see through the illusion that non-scientists thought was reality, the world of desks and chairs, air and erasers and people. -When you walked through a park, the immersive world that surrounded you was something that existed inside your own brain as a pattern of neurons firing. The sensation of a bright blue sky wasn’t something high above you, it was something in your visual cortex, and your visual cortex was in the back of your brain. All the sensations of that bright world were really happening in that quiet cave of bone you called your skull, the place where \emph{you} lived and never, ever left. If you really wanted to say hello to someone, to the \emph{actual person,} you wouldn’t shake their hand, you’d knock gently on their skull and say “How are you doing in there?” That was what people were, that was where they really lived. And the \emph{picture} of the park that you thought you were \emph{walking through} was something that was visualized inside your brain as it processed the signals sent down from your eyes and retina. +When you walked through a park, the immersive world that surrounded you was something that existed inside your own brain as a pattern of neurons firing. The sensation of a bright-blue sky wasn’t something high above you, it was something in your visual cortex, and your visual cortex was in the back of your brain. All the sensations of that bright world were really happening in that quiet cave of bone you called your skull, the place where \emph{you} lived and never, ever left. If you really wanted to say hello to someone, to the \emph{actual person,} you wouldn’t shake their hand, you’d knock gently on their skull and say “How are you doing in there?” That was what people were, that was where they really lived. And the \emph{picture} of the park that you thought you were \emph{walking through} was something that was visualized inside your brain as it processed the signals sent down from your eyes and retina. It wasn’t a \emph{lie} like the Buddhists thought, there wasn’t something terribly mystical and unexpected behind the veil of Maya, what lay beyond the illusion of the park was just the \emph{actual park}, but it was all still \emph{illusion}. @@ -336,7 +336,7 @@ \chapter{Reductionism} Hermione stared at it, puzzled. -“Quantum mechanics wasn’t enough,” Harry said. “I had to go all the way down to timeless physics before it took. Had to see the wand as enforcing a \emph{relation} between separate past and future realities, instead of \emph{changing} anything over time—but I did it, Hermione, I saw past the illusion of objects, and I bet there’s not a single other wizard in the world who could have. Even if some Muggleborn knew about timeless formulations of quantum mechanics, it would just be a weird belief about strange distant quantum stuff, they wouldn’t \emph{see} that it was \emph{reality}, accept that the world they knew was just a hallucination. I Transfigured \emph{part} of the eraser without changing the \emph{whole thing.}” +“Quantum mechanics wasn’t enough,” Harry said. “I had to go all the way down to timeless physics before it took. Had to see the wand as enforcing a \emph{relation} between separate past and future realities, instead of \emph{changing} anything over time—but I did it, Hermione, I saw past the illusion of objects, and I bet there’s not a single other wizard in the world who could have. Even if some Muggle-born knew about timeless formulations of quantum mechanics, it would just be a weird belief about strange distant quantum stuff, they wouldn’t \emph{see} that it was \emph{reality}, accept that the world they knew was just a hallucination. I Transfigured \emph{part} of the eraser without changing the \emph{whole thing.}” Hermione raised her wand again, pointed it at the eraser. @@ -448,7 +448,7 @@ \chapter{Reductionism} Harry watched them working, his face looking a little frightened. -“Don’t worry,” said Professor McGonagall in the middle of her running description, “this almost certainly won’t be necessary, Mr~Potter. If we \emph{expected} anything to go wrong you would not be allowed to try. It’s just ordinary precautions for any Transfiguration no one has ever tried before.” +“Don’t worry,” said Professor McGonagall in the middle of her running description, “this almost certainly won’t be necessary, Mr~Potter. If we \emph{expected} anything to go wrong you would not be allowed to try. It’s just ordinary precautions for any Transfiguration no-one has ever tried before.” Harry swallowed and nodded. @@ -504,7 +504,7 @@ \chapter{Reductionism} Minerva was wondering the same thing. Once again the Headmaster was thinking too far ahead for her to keep up. -“Because you can do something that no one else will believe you can do,” Dumbledore said. “Something completely unexpected. It may prove to be your critical advantage, Harry, and we must preserve it. Please, trust me in this.” +“Because you can do something that no-one else will believe you can do,” Dumbledore said. “Something completely unexpected. It may prove to be your critical advantage, Harry, and we must preserve it. Please, trust me in this.” Professor McGonagall nodded, her firm face showing nothing of her inner confusion. “Please do, Mr~Potter,” she said. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-029.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-029.tex index 76884299c..151e597b3 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-029.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-029.tex @@ -18,7 +18,7 @@ \chapter{Egocentric Bias} Or worse, one of the options on his dinner menu. -She’d been in a shower stall that morning and just about to turn on the water, when she’d heard giggles coming from outside. And she’d heard Morag talking about how that Muggleborn girl probably wouldn’t fight hard enough to win against Ginevra Weasley, and Padma speculating that Harry Potter might decide he wanted \emph{both}. +She’d been in a shower stall that morning and just about to turn on the water, when she’d heard giggles coming from outside. And she’d heard Morag talking about how that Muggle-born girl probably wouldn’t fight hard enough to win against Ginevra Weasley, and Padma speculating that Harry Potter might decide he wanted \emph{both}. It was like they didn’t understand that \emph{girls} had options on their dinner menu and \emph{boys} fought over them. @@ -490,6 +490,6 @@ \chapter{Egocentric Bias} Hogwarts got the day off to celebrate. Even the Slytherins didn’t dare wear black outside their own dorm. There were special events and special foods and the teachers looked the other way if anyone ran through the hallways. It was the tenth anniversary, after all. -Harry spent the day in his trunk so as not to spoil it for anyone else, eating snack bars in place of meals, reading some of his sadder science fiction books (no fantasy), and writing a letter to Mum and Dad that was much longer than the ones he usually sent. +Harry spent the day in his trunk so as not to spoil it for anyone else, eating snack bars in place of meals, reading some of his sadder science-fiction books (no fantasy), and writing a letter to Mum and Dad that was much longer than the ones he usually sent. % LocalWords: here’d Drakey Hermy diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-030.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-030.tex index 6e16e9d5a..88105c957 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-030.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-030.tex @@ -140,7 +140,7 @@ \latersection{(Extempore speech given by General Potter to the Chaos Legion, immediately before their first battle, on November 3rd, 1991, at 2:56\pm:)} -My troops, I’m not going to lie to you, our situation today is very grim. Dragon Army has never lost a single battle. And Hermione Granger…has a very good memory. The truth is, most of you are probably going to die. And the survivors will envy the dead. But we have to win this. We have to win this so that some day, our children can enjoy the taste of chocolate again. Everything is at stake here. Literally everything. If we lose, the whole universe just blinks out like a light bulb. And now I realize that most of you don’t know what a light bulb is. Well, take it from me, it’s bad. But if we have to go down, let’s go down fighting, like heroes, so that as the darkness closes in, we can think to ourselves, \emph{at least we had fun.} Are you afraid to die? I know I am. I can feel those cold shivers of fear like someone is pumping ice cream into my shirt. But I know…that history is watching us. It was watching us when we changed into our uniforms. It was probably taking pictures. And history, my troops, is written by the victors. If we win this, we can write our own history. A history in which Hogwarts was founded by four renegade house elves. We can make everyone study that history, even though it isn’t true, and if they don’t answer the right way on our tests…they’ll fail the class. Isn’t that worth dying for? No, don’t answer that. Some things are better left unknown. None of us knows why we’re here. None of us knows why we’re fighting. We just woke up in these uniforms in this mysterious forest, knowing only that there was no way to get our names and memories back except victory. The students in those other armies out there…they’re just like us. They don’t want to die. They’re fighting to protect each other, the only friends they have left. They’re fighting because they know they have families who’ll miss them, even if they can’t remember now. They may even be fighting to save the world. But we have a better reason to fight than they do. We fight because we like it. We fight to amuse eldritch monstrosities from beyond Space and Time. We fight because we’re Chaos. Soon the final battle will begin, so let me say now, because I won’t get a chance later, that it was an honour to be your commander, however briefly. Thank you, thank you all. And remember, your goal isn’t just to cut down the enemy, it’s to make them afraid. +My troops, I’m not going to lie to you, our situation today is very grim. Dragon Army has never lost a single battle. And Hermione Granger…has a very good memory. The truth is, most of you are probably going to die. And the survivors will envy the dead. But we have to win this. We have to win this so that some day, our children can enjoy the taste of chocolate again. Everything is at stake here. Literally everything. If we lose, the whole universe just blinks out like a light bulb. And now I realize that most of you don’t know what a light bulb is. Well, take it from me, it’s bad. But if we have to go down, let’s go down fighting, like heroes, so that as the darkness closes in, we can think to ourselves, \emph{at least we had fun.} Are you afraid to die? I know I am. I can feel those cold shivers of fear like someone is pumping ice-cream into my shirt. But I know…that history is watching us. It was watching us when we changed into our uniforms. It was probably taking pictures. And history, my troops, is written by the victors. If we win this, we can write our own history. A history in which Hogwarts was founded by four renegade house elves. We can make everyone study that history, even though it isn’t true, and if they don’t answer the right way on our tests…they’ll fail the class. Isn’t that worth dying for? No, don’t answer that. Some things are better left unknown. None of us knows why we’re here. None of us knows why we’re fighting. We just woke up in these uniforms in this mysterious forest, knowing only that there was no way to get our names and memories back except victory. The students in those other armies out there…they’re just like us. They don’t want to die. They’re fighting to protect each other, the only friends they have left. They’re fighting because they know they have families who’ll miss them, even if they can’t remember now. They may even be fighting to save the world. But we have a better reason to fight than they do. We fight because we like it. We fight to amuse eldritch monstrosities from beyond Space and Time. We fight because we’re Chaos. Soon the final battle will begin, so let me say now, because I won’t get a chance later, that it was an honour to be your commander, however briefly. Thank you, thank you all. And remember, your goal isn’t just to cut down the enemy, it’s to make them afraid. \later @@ -235,7 +235,7 @@ A broomstick fell out of the sky, approaching terrifyingly fast, and spun on its end and decelerated so hard you could almost hear the air screaming in protest, and came to a halt directly beside Draco. -It wasn’t dangerous showing-off. Gregory Goyle simply \emph{was} that good and he didn’t waste time. +It wasn’t dangerous showing off. Gregory Goyle simply \emph{was} that good and he didn’t waste time. “Potter’s coming,” Gregory said with no trace of his usual fake drawl. “They’ve still got all four of their brooms, you want me to take them out?” @@ -339,7 +339,7 @@ Chaos had only six soldiers left, now, and Dragon Army had two, and the only problem was that one of those soldiers was invincible, and the other one was using up three soldiers just to cover him inside his shield. -They’d lost more soldiers to Mr~Goyle than all the other Dragons put together, he was weaving and dodging through the air so fast that no one could hit him, and he could \emph{shoot people while he did that.} +They’d lost more soldiers to Mr~Goyle than all the other Dragons put together, he was weaving and dodging through the air so fast that no-one could hit him, and he could \emph{shoot people while he did that.} Harry had thought of all sorts of ways to stop Mr~Goyle but none of them were \emph{safe}, even using the Hover Charm to slow him down (it was a continuous beam and much easier to aim) wouldn’t be safe because he might fall off the broomstick, throwing things in his way wouldn’t be safe, and that was getting harder and harder to remember as Harry’s blood froze over. @@ -419,7 +419,7 @@ Harry asked if any of his soldiers knew them. -No one did. +No-one did. Draco was smirking again, inside his shield. @@ -427,7 +427,7 @@ Lightning bolts, it seemed, were usually absorbed by shields instead of bouncing off them. -…No one knew how to cast any sort of lightning-related spell. +…No-one knew how to cast any sort of lightning-related spell. Draco sniggered. @@ -443,7 +443,7 @@ A thin, folded blanket came out of Harry’s pouch. -Harry sat down next to the shimmering shield, and pulled the blanket over his head so no one could see what he did—except Draco, of course. +Harry sat down next to the shimmering shield, and pulled the blanket over his head so no-one could see what he did—except Draco, of course. From Harry’s pouch came a car battery and a set of jumper cables. @@ -506,7 +506,7 @@ It was Bad, she knew, but she’d really really \emph{really} wanted to gloat. -“There’s a trick, isn’t there?” said Harry, the strain showing in his voice. “There \emph{has} to be some trick. You can’t just turn into a perfect general. Not on top of everything else. You’re not that Slytherin! You don’t write creepy poetry! \emph{No one’s that good at everything!}” +“There’s a trick, isn’t there?” said Harry, the strain showing in his voice. “There \emph{has} to be some trick. You can’t just turn into a perfect general. Not on top of everything else. You’re not that Slytherin! You don’t write creepy poetry! \emph{No-one’s that good at everything!}” General Granger glanced around at her Sunshine Soldiers, and then looked back at Harry. Everyone was probably watching this on the screens outside. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-033.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-033.tex index 37fd30e38..9f851ada5 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-033.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-033.tex @@ -54,7 +54,7 @@ “I agree with Mr~Malfoy,” said Granger in the tones of someone who hadn’t ever expected to hear herself saying those words. “Allowing traitors isn’t working, Professor Quirrell.” -Draco had tried forbidding anyone in his army to plot except him, and that had just driven the plots underground, no one wanted to be left out when the soldiers in \emph{other} armies got to plot. After miserably losing their last battle, he’d finally given in and revoked his decree; but by then his soldiers had already started setting their own personal plans in motion, without any sort of central coordination. +Draco had tried forbidding anyone in his army to plot except him, and that had just driven the plots underground, no-one wanted to be left out when the soldiers in \emph{other} armies got to plot. After miserably losing their last battle, he’d finally given in and revoked his decree; but by then his soldiers had already started setting their own personal plans in motion, without any sort of central coordination. After being told all the plans, or what his soldiers claimed were their plans, Draco had tried to sketch a plot to win the final battle. It had required considerably more than three different things to go right, and Draco had used \emph{Incendio} on the paper and \emph{Everto} to vanish the ashes, because if Father had seen it he would have been disowned. @@ -104,7 +104,7 @@ Her question had put an ironic smile on the young Slytherin’s face. Blaise Zabini always seemed a little disdainful of her, but he didn’t seem to actively dislike her; nothing like the derision he held for Draco Malfoy, or the resentment he had developed for Harry Potter. She had worried at first about Zabini betraying her, but the boy seemed desperate to show that the other two generals were no better than him; and Hermione thought that while Zabini would probably be happy to sell her out to anyone \emph{else}, he’d never let Malfoy or Harry win. -“Most of your soldiers \emph{are} still loyal to you, I’m pretty sure,” said Zabini. “It’s just that no one wants to be left out of the fun.” The scornful look on the Slytherin’s face made it clear what he thought of people who didn’t take plotting seriously. “So they think they can be double agents and secretly work for our side while pretending to betray us.” +“Most of your soldiers \emph{are} still loyal to you, I’m pretty sure,” said Zabini. “It’s just that no-one wants to be left out of the fun.” The scornful look on the Slytherin’s face made it clear what he thought of people who didn’t take plotting seriously. “So they think they can be double agents and secretly work for our side while pretending to betray us.” “And that would also go for anyone in the \emph{other} armies who says they want to be \emph{our} spy,” Hermione said carefully. @@ -198,7 +198,7 @@ “Yesss,” hissed Harry, like the boy thought he was a Parselmouth. “We must cooperate to destroy Sunshine, and only then fight it out between us. But if one of us betrays the other earlier on, that one could gain an advantage in the later fight. And the Sunshine General, who knows all this, will try to trick each of us into thinking the other has betrayed them. And you and I, who know that, will be tempted to betray the other and pretend that it is Granger’s trickery. And Granger knows \emph{that}, as well.” -Draco nodded. That much was obvious. “And…both of us \emph{only} want to win, and there’s no one else who’ll punish either of us if we defect…” +Draco nodded. That much was obvious. “And…both of us \emph{only} want to win, and there’s no-one else who’ll punish either of us if we defect…” “Precisely,” said Harry Potter, his face now turning serious. “We are faced with a \emph{true} Prisoner’s Dilemma.” @@ -326,7 +326,7 @@ The Chaos Legionnaires were looking at Harry in puzzlement, as their general swam with his feet pointing up toward the distant light of the surface, and his head pointed down toward the murky depths. -“\emph{Why are you upside down?}” the young commander shouted at his army, and began to explain how to fight after you abandoned the privileged orientation of gravity. +“\emph{Why are you upside-down?}” the young commander shouted at his army, and began to explain how to fight after you abandoned the privileged orientation of gravity. \later @@ -356,7 +356,7 @@ “But,” said Ernie with shock on his face, “Neville is in \emph{Hufflepuff!} You’re saying he \emph{lied} to us?” -Daphne was laughing so hard and so helplessly that the exhalations had turned her upside down in the water. +Daphne was laughing so hard and so helplessly that the exhalations had turned her upside-down in the water. “I’m not sure \emph{what} Longbottom is,” said Ron darkly, “but I don’t think he’s a Hufflepuff any more. Not now that \emph{Harry Potter’s} got to him.” @@ -556,7 +556,7 @@ Somehow, despite their numerical superiority, the Dragons had scored three times against the Chaotics and the Chaotics had scored four times back, and he’d heard one Dragon spy get executed. Either Harry Potter had thought of a lot of very good ideas very fast, or for some unimaginable reason he’d already spent a lot of time working out how to fight underwater. This wasn’t working, and Draco needed to rethink things. -It looked like everyone was having trouble aiming while swimming, too, the battle might last long enough that time would be called…the distant underwater moon was only half full now, that wasn’t good…he had to rethink things \emph{fast…} +It looked like everyone was having trouble aiming while swimming, too, the battle might last long enough that time would be called…the distant underwater moon was only half-full now, that wasn’t good…he had to rethink things \emph{fast…} “What is it?” said Padma Patil, as she and her force swam over toward Draco. @@ -590,7 +590,7 @@ There was the bell of Sunshine scoring two points. -“\emph{What?}” said Draco and Zabini around the same time; their heads swivelled around. No one seemed to have been hit, and all the Sunshine soldiers were present and accounted for. (Except Parvati, who had been shot by some still-unknown traitor in Padma’s squad; and of course Padma had shot Parvati again in case she was faking, so it wasn’t her…) +“\emph{What?}” said Draco and Zabini around the same time; their heads swivelled around. No-one seemed to have been hit, and all the Sunshine soldiers were present and accounted for. (Except Parvati, who had been shot by some still-unknown traitor in Padma’s squad; and of course Padma had shot Parvati again in case she was faking, so it wasn’t her…) “A Sunny traitor in Chaos?” said Zabini, sounding puzzled. “But all the ones I knew about were supposed to strike during Chaos’s attack on Sunshine—” @@ -620,7 +620,7 @@ “Sleep before surrender!” shouted General Chaos. -“Just so you know,” said Draco, “Zabini doesn’t actually \emph{have} an older sister for you to rescue from Gryffindor bullies. But Zabini \emph{does} have a mother who doesn’t approve of Muggleborns like Granger, and I wrote her a few notes, and offered Zabini a few favours—nothing involving my father, just things \emph{I} can do in school. And by the way, Zabini’s mother doesn’t approve of the Boy-Who-Lived, either. Just in case you still thought Zabini was really on your side.” +“Just so you know,” said Draco, “Zabini doesn’t actually \emph{have} an older sister for you to rescue from Gryffindor bullies. But Zabini \emph{does} have a mother who doesn’t approve of Muggle-borns like Granger, and I wrote her a few notes, and offered Zabini a few favours—nothing involving my father, just things \emph{I} can do in school. And by the way, Zabini’s mother doesn’t approve of the Boy-Who-Lived, either. Just in case you still thought Zabini was really on your side.” Harry’s face grew even grimmer. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-034.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-034.tex index 7365159d9..3bd4d1a9d 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-034.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-034.tex @@ -2,7 +2,7 @@ \lettrine{M}{inerva} and Dumbledore together had applied their combined talent to conjure the grand stage toward which Quirrell now slowly trudged; it was, at its core, sturdy wood, but the outer surfaces shone with glitter of marble inlaid with platinum and studded with gems of every House colour. Neither she nor the Headmaster was any Founder of Hogwarts, but the conjuration only needed to last a few hours. Minerva ordinarily enjoyed the few occasions when she had the occasion to tire herself out on large Transfigurations; she should have enjoyed the many small chances for artistry, and the illusion of opulence; but this time she had done the work with the dreadful feeling of digging her own grave. -But Minerva was feeling a little better now. There’d been one brief moment when the explosion might’ve come; but Dumbledore had already been standing up and applauding warmly, and no one had proven foolish enough to riot in front of the Headmaster. +But Minerva was feeling a little better now. There’d been one brief moment when the explosion might’ve come; but Dumbledore had already been standing up and applauding warmly, and no-one had proven foolish enough to riot in front of the Headmaster. And the explosive mood had rapidly faded into a collective sentiment which might perhaps have been described by the phrase: \emph{Give us a break!} @@ -94,7 +94,7 @@ Professor Quirrell leaned forward at the podium, his voice now filled with a grim intensity. His right hand stretched out, fingers open and spread. “Division is weakness,” said the Defence Professor. His hand closed into a tight fist. “Unity is strength. The Dark Lord understood that well, whatever his other follies; and he \emph{used} that understanding to create the one simple invention that made him the most terrible Dark Lord in history. Your parents faced one Dark Lord. And fifty Death Eaters who were perfectly unified, knowing that any breach of their loyalty would be punished by death, that any slack or incompetence would be punished by pain. None could escape the Dark Lord’s grasp once they took his Mark. And the Death Eaters agreed to take that terrible Mark because they knew that once they took it, they would be \emph{united}, facing a divided land. One Dark Lord and fifty Death Eaters would have defeated an entire country, by the power of the Dark Mark.” -Professor Quirrell’s voice was bleak and hard. “Your parents \emph{could} have fought back in kind. They did not. There was a man named Yermy Wibble who called upon the nation to institute a draft, though he did not quite have vision enough to propose a Mark of Britain. Yermy Wibble knew what would happen to him; he hoped his death would inspire others. So the Dark Lord took his family for good measure. Their empty skins inspired nothing but fear, and no one dared to speak again. And your parents would have faced the consequences of their despicable cowardice, if not for being saved by a one-year-old boy.” Professor Quirrell’s face showed full contempt. “A dramatist would have called that a \emph{deus ex machina,} for they did nothing to earn their salvation. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named may not have deserved to win, but make no doubt of it, your parents deserved to lose.” +Professor Quirrell’s voice was bleak and hard. “Your parents \emph{could} have fought back in kind. They did not. There was a man named Yermy Wibble who called upon the nation to institute a draft, though he did not quite have vision enough to propose a Mark of Britain. Yermy Wibble knew what would happen to him; he hoped his death would inspire others. So the Dark Lord took his family for good measure. Their empty skins inspired nothing but fear, and no-one dared to speak again. And your parents would have faced the consequences of their despicable cowardice, if not for being saved by a one-year-old boy.” Professor Quirrell’s face showed full contempt. “A dramatist would have called that a \emph{deus ex machina,} for they did nothing to earn their salvation. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named may not have deserved to win, but make no doubt of it, your parents deserved to lose.” The voice of the Defence Professor rang forth like iron. “And know this: your parents have learned nothing! The nation is still fragmented and weak! How few decades passed between Grindelwald and You-Know-Who? Do you think \emph{you} will not see the next threat in your own lifetimes? Will \emph{you} repeat then the follies of your parents, when you have seen the results so clearly laid out before you this day? For I can tell you what your parents will do, when the day of darkness comes! I can tell you what lesson they have learned! They have learned to hide like cowards and do nothing while they wait for Harry Potter to save them!” @@ -106,7 +106,7 @@ “No,” said Professor Quirrell, “I do not think it will be Lucius Malfoy who saves you. And lest you think that I speak on my own behalf, time will make clear soon enough that this is not so. I make you no recommendation, my students. But I say that if a whole country were to find a leader as strong as the Dark Lord, but honourable and pure, and take his Mark; then they could crush any Dark Lord like an insect, and all the rest of our divided magical world could not threaten them. And if some still greater enemy rose against us in a war of extermination, then only a united magical world could survive.” -There were gasps, mostly from Muggleborns; the students in green-trimmed robes looked merely puzzled. Now it was Harry Potter whose fists were clenched tight and trembling; and Hermione Granger beside him was angry and dismayed. +There were gasps, mostly from Muggle-borns; the students in green-trimmed robes looked merely puzzled. Now it was Harry Potter whose fists were clenched tight and trembling; and Hermione Granger beside him was angry and dismayed. The Headmaster rose from his seat, his face now stern, saying no word as yet; but the command was clear. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-035.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-035.tex index 140f04834..95653add5 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-035.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-035.tex @@ -113,7 +113,7 @@ And if the whole wizarding world took a single Mark, they would be a danger to the rest of humanity. -No one knew quite how many wizards there were in the world. He’d done a few estimates with Hermione and come up with numbers in the rough range of a million. +No-one knew quite how many wizards there were in the world. He’d done a few estimates with Hermione and come up with numbers in the rough range of a million. But there were six billion Muggles. @@ -201,7 +201,7 @@ “Miss~Granger,” said Professor McGonagall, “let me start by saying that I already know about the Headmaster asking you to make that wish—” -“He \emph{told} you?” blurted Hermione, startled. The Headmaster had said no one else was supposed to know! +“He \emph{told} you?” blurted Hermione, startled. The Headmaster had said no-one else was supposed to know! Professor McGonagall paused, looked at Hermione, and gave a sad little chuckle. “It’s good to see Mr~Potter hasn’t corrupted you too much. Miss~Granger, you aren’t supposed to \emph{admit} anything just because I say I know. As it happens, the Headmaster did \emph{not} tell me, I simply know him too well.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-036.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-036.tex index 604f545da..a0e0d2cc2 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-036.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-036.tex @@ -1,6 +1,6 @@ \chapter{Status Differentials} -\lettrine{W}{renching} disorientation, that was how it felt to walk out of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters into the rest of Earth, the world that Harry had once thought was the only real world. People dressed in casual shirts and trousers, instead of the more dignified robes of wizards and witches. Scattered bits of trash here and there around the benches. A forgotten smell, the fumes of burned gasoline, raw and sharp in the air. The ambiance of the King’s Cross train station, less bright and cheerful than Hogwarts or Diagon Alley; the people seemed smaller, more afraid, and likely would have eagerly traded their problems for a dark wizard to fight. Harry wanted to cast \emph{Scourgify} for the dirt, and \emph{Everto} for the garbage, and if he’d known the spell, a Bubble-Head Charm so he wouldn’t have to breathe the air. But he couldn’t use his wand, in this place… +\lettrine{W}{renching} disorientation, that was how it felt to walk out of Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters into the rest of Earth, the world that Harry had once thought was the only real world. People dressed in casual shirts and trousers, instead of the more dignified robes of wizards and witches. Scattered bits of trash here and there around the benches. A forgotten smell, the fumes of burned gasoline, raw and sharp in the air. The ambiance of the King’s Cross train station, less bright and cheerful than Hogwarts or Diagon Alley; the people seemed smaller, more afraid, and likely would have eagerly traded their problems for a dark wizard to fight. Harry wanted to cast \emph{Scourgify} for the dirt, and \emph{Everto} for the garbage, and if he’d known the spell, a Bubble-Head Charm so he wouldn’t have to breathe the air. But he couldn’t use his wand, in this place… This, Harry realized, must be what it felt like to go from a First World country to a Third World country. @@ -36,7 +36,7 @@ \chapter{Status Differentials} Of course Dad thought he was joking. -It hadn’t hurt quite so much when his parents didn’t believe in him, back when no one \emph{else} had believed in him either, back when Harry hadn’t \emph{known} how it felt to be taken seriously by people like Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Quirrell. +It hadn’t hurt quite so much when his parents didn’t believe in him, back when no-one \emph{else} had believed in him either, back when Harry hadn’t \emph{known} how it felt to be taken seriously by people like Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Quirrell. And that was when Harry realized that the Boy-Who-Lived only existed in magical Britain, that there wasn’t any such person in Muggle London, just a cute little eleven-year-old boy going home for Christmas. @@ -94,7 +94,7 @@ \chapter{Status Differentials} Harry had shown his mother the healer’s kit he’d bought to keep in their house, though most of the potions wouldn’t work on Dad. Mum had stared at the kit in a way that made Harry ask whether Mum’s sister had ever bought anything like that for Grandpa Edwin and Grandma Elaine. And when Mum still hadn’t answered, Harry had said hastily that she must have just never thought of it. And then, finally, he’d fled the room. -Lily Evans probably \emph{hadn’t} thought of it, that was the sad thing. Harry knew that other people had a tendency to not-think about painful subjects, in the same way they had a tendency not to deliberately rest their hands on red-hot stove burners; and Harry was starting to suspect that most Muggleborns rapidly acquired a tendency to not-think about their family, who were all going to die before they reached their first century anyway. +Lily Evans probably \emph{hadn’t} thought of it, that was the sad thing. Harry knew that other people had a tendency to not think about painful subjects, in the same way they had a tendency not to deliberately rest their hands on red-hot stove burners; and Harry was starting to suspect that most Muggle-borns rapidly acquired a tendency to not think about their family, who were all going to die before they reached their first century anyway. Not that Harry had any intention of letting \emph{that} happen, of course. @@ -102,7 +102,7 @@ \chapter{Status Differentials} \later -The house was huge, not by Hogwarts standards, but certainly by the standards of what you could get if your father was a distinguished professor trying to live in Oxford. Two stories of brick gleaming in the setting sun, with windows on top of windows and one tall window that went up much further than glass should go, that was going to be one huge living room… +The house was huge, not by Hogwarts standards, but certainly by the standards of what you could get if your father was a distinguished professor trying to live in Oxford. Two stories of brick gleaming in the setting sun, with windows on top of windows and one tall window that went up much further than glass should go, that was going to be one huge living-room… Harry took a deep breath, and rang the doorbell. @@ -114,7 +114,7 @@ \chapter{Status Differentials} “Mr~Granger?” Harry’s father said briskly, before Harry could even speak. “I’m Michael, and this is Petunia and our son Harry. The food’s in the magical trunk,” and Dad made a vague gesture behind him—not quite in the direction of the trunk, as it happened. -“Yes, please, come in,” said Leo Granger. He stepped forward and took the wine bottle from the Professor’s outstretched hands, with a muttered “Thank you,” and then stepped back and waved at the living room. “Have a seat. And,” his head turning down to address Harry, “all the toys are downstairs in the basement, I’m sure Herm will be down shortly, it’s the first door on your right,” and pointed toward a hallway. +“Yes, please, come in,” said Leo Granger. He stepped forward and took the wine bottle from the Professor’s outstretched hands, with a muttered “Thank you,” and then stepped back and waved at the living-room. “Have a seat. And,” his head turning down to address Harry, “all the toys are downstairs in the basement, I’m sure Herm will be down shortly, it’s the first door on your right,” and pointed toward a hallway. Harry just looked at him for a moment, conscious that he was blocking his parents from coming in. @@ -122,7 +122,7 @@ \chapter{Status Differentials} There was an intake of breath from his mother behind him, and Harry strode into the house, managing not to stomp too hard as he walked. -The living room was every bit as large as it had looked from outside, with a huge vaulted ceiling dangling a gigantic chandelier, and a Christmas tree that must have been murder to manœuvre through the door. The lower levels of the tree were thoroughly and carefully decorated in neat patterns of red and green and gold, with a newfound sprinkling of blue and bronze; the heights that only a grown-up could reach were carelessly, randomly draped with strings of lights and wreaths of tinsel. A hallway extended until it terminated in the cabinetry of a kitchen, and wooden stairs with polished metal railings stretched up toward a second floor. +The living-room was every bit as large as it had looked from outside, with a huge vaulted ceiling dangling a gigantic chandelier, and a Christmas tree that must have been murder to manœuvre through the door. The lower levels of the tree were thoroughly and carefully decorated in neat patterns of red and green and gold, with a newfound sprinkling of blue and bronze; the heights that only a grown-up could reach were carelessly, randomly draped with strings of lights and wreaths of tinsel. A hallway extended until it terminated in the cabinetry of a kitchen, and wooden stairs with polished metal railings stretched up toward a second floor. “Gosh!” Harry said. “This is a big house! I hope I don’t get lost in here!” @@ -180,7 +180,7 @@ \chapter{Status Differentials} \later -The dining room table was much longer than six people—er, four people and two children—really needed, but all of it was draped with a tablecloth of fine white linen, and the dishes had been needlessly transferred to fancy serving plates, which at least were of stainless steel rather than real silver. +The dining-room table was much longer than six people—er, four people and two children—really needed, but all of it was draped with a tablecloth of fine white linen, and the dishes had been needlessly transferred to fancy serving plates, which at least were of stainless steel rather than real silver. Harry was having a bit of trouble concentrating on the turkey. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-037.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-037.tex index 6bb696737..7d0e05a8b 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-037.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-037.tex @@ -25,7 +25,7 @@ \chapter{Interlude: Crossing the Boundary} “Fear not, Mr~Potter,” said the Defence Professor in a normal voice. “I have Charmed your parents asleep; they shall not wake until I have departed.” -“No one’s supposed to know where I am!” said Harry, still keeping the shriek quiet. “Even owls are supposed to deliver my mail to Hogwarts, not here!” Harry had agreed to that willingly; it would be silly if a Death Eater could win the whole war at any time just by owling him a magically triggered hand grenade. +“No-one’s supposed to know where I am!” said Harry, still keeping the shriek quiet. “Even owls are supposed to deliver my mail to Hogwarts, not here!” Harry had agreed to that willingly; it would be silly if a Death Eater could win the whole war at any time just by owling him a magically triggered hand grenade. Professor Quirrell was grinning, from where he stood in the backyard beyond the window. “Oh, I shouldn’t worry, Mr~Potter. You \emph{are} well protected against locating Charms, and no blood purist is likely to think of consulting a phone book.” His grin grew wider. “And it did take considerable effort to cross the wards that the Headmaster put around this house—though of course anyone who knew your address could simply wait outside and attack you the next time you left.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-038.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-038.tex index e02b4990a..9f0324f2f 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-038.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-038.tex @@ -108,7 +108,7 @@ \chapter{The Cardinal Sin} The grey eyes glittered at him. “Is that your pose, then…” said the senior Malfoy. “Well. I shall play along a little. What was your purpose in manœuvring your good friend, my son, into a public alliance with that girl?” -“Oh,” Harry said lightly, “that’s obvious, right? Draco’s working with Granger will make him realize that Muggleborns are human after all. Bwa. Ha. Ha.” +“Oh,” Harry said lightly, “that’s obvious, right? Draco’s working with Granger will make him realize that Muggle-borns are human after all. Bwa. Ha. Ha.” A thin trace of a smile moved over Lucius’s lips. “Yes, that does sound like one of Dumbledore’s plans. Which it is \emph{not}.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-039.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-039.tex index 2bded8144..bdd676052 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-039.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-039.tex @@ -2,7 +2,7 @@ \lettrine{W}{histle}. Tick. Bzzzt. Ding. Glorp. Pop. Splat. Chime. Toot. Puff. Tinkle. Bubble. Beep. Thud. Crackle. Whoosh. Hiss. Pffft. Whirr. -Professor Flitwick had silently passed Harry a folded parchment during Charms class that Monday, and the note had said that Harry was to visit the Headmaster at his convenience and in such fashion that no one else would notice, especially not Draco Malfoy or Professor Quirrell. His one-time password for the gargoyle would be “squeamish ossifrage”. This had been accompanied by a remarkably artistic ink drawing of Professor Flitwick staring at him sternly, the eyes of which occasionally blinked; and at the bottom of the note, underlined three times, was the phrase “DON’T GET INTO TROUBLE”. +Professor Flitwick had silently passed Harry a folded parchment during Charms class that Monday, and the note had said that Harry was to visit the Headmaster at his convenience and in such fashion that no-one else would notice, especially not Draco Malfoy or Professor Quirrell. His one-time password for the gargoyle would be “squeamish ossifrage”. This had been accompanied by a remarkably artistic ink drawing of Professor Flitwick staring at him sternly, the eyes of which occasionally blinked; and at the bottom of the note, underlined three times, was the phrase “DON’T GET INTO TROUBLE”. And so Harry had finished up Transfiguration class, and studied with Hermione, and eaten dinner, and spoken with his lieutenants, and finally, when the clock struck nine, turned himself invisible and dropped back to 6\pm and wearily trudged off toward the gargoyle, the turning spiral stairs, the wooden door, the room full of little fiddly things, and the silver-bearded figure of the Headmaster. @@ -66,7 +66,7 @@ “I mean,” said Harry, “it’s entirely consistent with the way Professor Quirrell usually acts…” Harry trailed off. Why \emph{had} he put it that way? -The Headmaster nodded. “So you have the same sense I do; that it is an excuse. A very \emph{reasonable} excuse, to be sure; more so than you may realize. Often, wizards seemingly unable to cast a Patronus Charm will succeed in the presence of an actual Dementor, going from not a single flicker of light to a full corporeal Patronus. Why this should be, no one knows; but it is so.” +The Headmaster nodded. “So you have the same sense I do; that it is an excuse. A very \emph{reasonable} excuse, to be sure; more so than you may realize. Often, wizards seemingly unable to cast a Patronus Charm will succeed in the presence of an actual Dementor, going from not a single flicker of light to a full corporeal Patronus. Why this should be, no-one knows; but it is so.” Harry frowned. “Then I really don’t see why you’re suspicious—” @@ -100,7 +100,7 @@ That was the first time anyone had ever said \emph{that} to Harry. -“I remember,” the old wizard continued, “a young man in this very office, cold and controlled as he faced down the Head of House Slytherin, blackmailing his own Headmaster to protect his classmates. And I believe that young man is more cunning than Professor Quirrell, more cunning than Lucius Malfoy, that he will grow to be the equal of Voldemort himself. It is he who I wish to consult.” +“I remember,” the old wizard continued, “a young man in this very office, cold and controlled as he faced down the Head of House Slytherin, blackmailing his own Headmaster to protect his classmates. And I believe that young man is more cunning than Professor Quirrell, more cunning than Lucius Malfoy, that he will grow to be the equal of Voldemort himself. It is he whom I wish to consult.” Harry suppressed the chill that went through him at the name, frowned thoughtfully at the Headmaster. @@ -282,7 +282,7 @@ “I’ve heard that theory,” said the Headmaster, his voice growing sharp, “repeated by wizards who mistake cynicism for wisdom, who think that to look down upon others is to elevate themselves. It is one of the silliest ideas I have heard in a hundred and ten years! \emph{Yes,} ghosts do not learn or grow, because this is \emph{not where they belong!} Souls are meant to move on, there is no life remaining for them \emph{here!} And if not ghosts, then what of the Veil? What of the Resurrection Stone?” -“All right,” Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm, “I’ll hear out your evidence, because \emph{that’s what a scientist does.} But first, Headmaster, let me tell you a little story.” Harry’s voice was trembling. “You know, when I got here, when I got off the train from King’s Cross, I don’t mean yesterday but back in September, when I got off the train then, Headmaster, I’d never seen a ghost. I wasn’t \emph{expecting} ghosts. So when I saw them, Headmaster, I did something really dumb. I \emph{jumped to conclusions.} I, I thought there \emph{was} an afterlife, I thought no one had ever really died, I thought that everyone the human species had ever lost was really fine after all, I thought that wizards could talk to people who’d passed on, that it just took the right spell to summon them, that wizards could \emph{do} that, I thought I could meet my parents who died for me, and tell them that I’d heard about their sacrifice and that I’d begun to call them my mother and father—” +“All right,” Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm, “I’ll hear out your evidence, because \emph{that’s what a scientist does.} But first, Headmaster, let me tell you a little story.” Harry’s voice was trembling. “You know, when I got here, when I got off the train from King’s Cross, I don’t mean yesterday but back in September, when I got off the train then, Headmaster, I’d never seen a ghost. I wasn’t \emph{expecting} ghosts. So when I saw them, Headmaster, I did something really dumb. I \emph{jumped to conclusions.} I, I thought there \emph{was} an afterlife, I thought no-one had ever really died, I thought that everyone the human species had ever lost was really fine after all, I thought that wizards could talk to people who’d passed on, that it just took the right spell to summon them, that wizards could \emph{do} that, I thought I could meet my parents who died for me, and tell them that I’d heard about their sacrifice and that I’d begun to call them my mother and father—” “Harry,” whispered Dumbledore. Water glittered in the old wizard’s eyes. He took a step closer across the office— @@ -380,7 +380,7 @@ The old wizard’s face was peaceful. “I am not perfect, Harry, but I think I have accepted my death as part of myself.” -“Uh huh,” Harry said. “See, there’s this little thing called \emph{cognitive dissonance,} or in plainer English, \emph{sour grapes.} If people were hit on the heads with truncheons once a month, and no one could do anything about it, pretty soon there’d be all sorts of philosophers, \emph{pretending to be wise} as you put it, who found all sorts of \emph{amazing benefits} to being hit on the head with a truncheon once a month. Like, it makes you tougher, or it makes you happier on the days when you’re \emph{not} getting hit with a truncheon. But if you went up to someone who \emph{wasn’t} getting hit, and you asked them if they wanted to \emph{start}, in exchange for those \emph{amazing benefits,} they’d say no. And if you \emph{didn’t} have to die, if you came from somewhere that no one had ever even \emph{heard} of death, and I suggested to you that it would be an \emph{amazing wonderful great idea} for people to get wrinkled and old and eventually cease to exist, why, you’d have me hauled right off to a lunatic asylum! So why would anyone possibly think any thought so silly as that death is a \emph{good} thing? Because you’re afraid of it, because you don’t \emph{really} want to die, and that thought hurts so much inside you that you have to rationalize it away, do something to numb the pain, so you won’t have to think about it—” +“Uh huh,” Harry said. “See, there’s this little thing called \emph{cognitive dissonance,} or in plainer English, \emph{sour grapes.} If people were hit on the heads with truncheons once a month, and no-one could do anything about it, pretty soon there’d be all sorts of philosophers, \emph{pretending to be wise} as you put it, who found all sorts of \emph{amazing benefits} to being hit on the head with a truncheon once a month. Like, it makes you tougher, or it makes you happier on the days when you’re \emph{not} getting hit with a truncheon. But if you went up to someone who \emph{wasn’t} getting hit, and you asked them if they wanted to \emph{start}, in exchange for those \emph{amazing benefits,} they’d say no. And if you \emph{didn’t} have to die, if you came from somewhere that no-one had ever even \emph{heard} of death, and I suggested to you that it would be an \emph{amazing wonderful great idea} for people to get wrinkled and old and eventually cease to exist, why, you’d have me hauled right off to a lunatic asylum! So why would anyone possibly think any thought so silly as that death is a \emph{good} thing? Because you’re afraid of it, because you don’t \emph{really} want to die, and that thought hurts so much inside you that you have to rationalize it away, do something to numb the pain, so you won’t have to think about it—” “No, Harry,” the old wizard said. His face was gentle, his hand trailed through a lighted pool of water that made small musical chimes as his fingers stirred it. “Though I can understand how you must think so.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-041.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-041.tex index fdbf2f029..e4889f74f 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-041.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-041.tex @@ -186,7 +186,7 @@ \chapter{Frontal Override} “You know why Atlantis fell?” said Tracey. “’Cause someone like Malfoy \emph{dropped} it, that’s why!” -Daphne lowered her voice. “In fact…what if Malfoy’s the one who made Hermione, I mean General Granger, slip in the first place? What if he’s out to make \emph{all} the Muggleborns trip and fall?” +Daphne lowered her voice. “In fact…what if Malfoy’s the one who made Hermione, I mean General Granger, slip in the first place? What if he’s out to make \emph{all} the Muggle-borns trip and fall?” “You mean—?” gasped Tracey. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-043.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-043.tex index 39dea2b3b..553a7d277 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-043.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-043.tex @@ -98,7 +98,7 @@ Harry didn’t believe in angst, he couldn’t stand reading about whiny heroes, he knew a billion other people in the world would have given anything to trade places with him, and… -And on his deathbed, Godric had told Helga (for Salazar had abandoned him, and Rowena passed before) that he didn’t regret any of it, and he was \emph{not} warning his students not to follow in his footsteps, no one was \emph{ever} to say he’d told anyone not to follow in his footsteps. If it had been the right thing for \emph{him} to do, then he wouldn’t tell anyone else to choose wrongly, not even the youngest student in Hogwarts. And yet for those who \emph{did} follow in his footsteps, he hoped they would remember that Gryffindor had told his House that it was all right for them to be happier than him. That red and gold would be bright warm colours, from now on. +And on his deathbed, Godric had told Helga (for Salazar had abandoned him, and Rowena passed before) that he didn’t regret any of it, and he was \emph{not} warning his students not to follow in his footsteps, no-one was \emph{ever} to say he’d told anyone not to follow in his footsteps. If it had been the right thing for \emph{him} to do, then he wouldn’t tell anyone else to choose wrongly, not even the youngest student in Hogwarts. And yet for those who \emph{did} follow in his footsteps, he hoped they would remember that Gryffindor had told his House that it was all right for them to be happier than him. That red and gold would be bright warm colours, from now on. And Helga had promised him, weeping, that when she was Headmistress she would make sure of it. @@ -308,7 +308,7 @@ It was the worst thing anyone had yet described seeing. Neville had been able to produce a small flicker of light from his wand before, but he had, intelligently and with great presence of mind, turned and run away instead of trying to cast his own Patronus Charm. -(The Headmaster had said nothing to the other students, told no one else to be less brave; but Professor Quirrell had calmly observed that if you made the mistake \emph{after} being warned, that was when ignorance became stupidity.) +(The Headmaster had said nothing to the other students, told no-one else to be less brave; but Professor Quirrell had calmly observed that if you made the mistake \emph{after} being warned, that was when ignorance became stupidity.) “Professor Quirrell?” Harry said in a low voice, having come as close to the Defence Professor as he dared. “What do \emph{you} see when you—” @@ -334,7 +334,7 @@ Harry knew, he knew that he was going to fail, and he knew that it was going to hurt. -But he still had to try; because sometimes, in the presence of a Dementor, a wizard went from not a flicker of light to a full corporeal Patronus, and no one understood why. +But he still had to try; because sometimes, in the presence of a Dementor, a wizard went from not a flicker of light to a full corporeal Patronus, and no-one understood why. And because if Harry \emph{couldn’t} defend himself from Dementors, he had to be able to recognize their approach, recognize the feeling of them in his mind, and run before it was too late. @@ -366,7 +366,7 @@ The unseeable horror beneath the cloak was very close, now, but the blazing bird of moonlight, the white phœnix, yet lay between them. -Harry wanted to run away like some of the other students had. Half the ones who’d had no luck with their Patronus Charms just hadn’t shown up today in the first place. Of those remaining, half had fled before the Headmaster had even dispelled his own Patronus, and no one had said a word. There’d been a little laughter when Terry had turned and walked back before his own try; and Susan and Hannah, who’d gone before, had yelled at everyone to shut up. +Harry wanted to run away like some of the other students had. Half the ones who’d had no luck with their Patronus Charms just hadn’t shown up today in the first place. Of those remaining, half had fled before the Headmaster had even dispelled his own Patronus, and no-one had said a word. There’d been a little laughter when Terry had turned and walked back before his own try; and Susan and Hannah, who’d gone before, had yelled at everyone to shut up. But Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived, and he would lose much respect if he was seen to give up without even trying… diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-045.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-045.tex index d0893c563..5ebb6b218 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-045.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-045.tex @@ -27,7 +27,7 @@ “I think so, Professor McGonagall,” Harry said calmly. He’d almost said \emph{Minerva} before managing to stop himself. While Fawkes was on his shoulder, at least, Harry was fine; it might be that he would collapse a moment after Fawkes left, but somehow thoughts like that didn’t seem important. “I think I’m okay.” -There ought to have been cheering, or sighs of relief, or something, but no one seemed to know what to say, no one at all. +There ought to have been cheering, or sighs of relief, or something, but no-one seemed to know what to say, no-one at all. The peace of the phœnix lingered. @@ -79,7 +79,7 @@ “Yep,” Harry said. “Still alive.” -Again that silence, again the absence of cheering; no one seemed to know how to respond— +Again that silence, again the absence of cheering; no-one seemed to know how to respond— “It is good to know you are fully recovered, Mr~Potter,” Professor Quirrell said firmly, as though to deny any other possibility. “Now, I believe Miss~Ransom was up next?” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-046.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-046.tex index 0592329e0..f97ba6b89 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-046.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-046.tex @@ -26,7 +26,7 @@ Harry felt an impulse and decided to go with it. It was dangerous, but there might not ever be a better opportunity until the end of time. -“Three sodas,” Harry said to his pouch, then looked up at the Defence Professor and the Headmaster of Hogwarts. “Gentlemen,” Harry said, “I bought these sodas on my first visit to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, on the day I entered into Hogwarts. I have been saving them for special occasions; there is a minor enchantment on them to ensure they are drunk at the right time. This is the last of my supply, but I do not think there will ever come a finer occasion. Shall we?” +“Three sodas,” Harry said to his pouch, then looked up at the Defence Professor and the Headmaster of Hogwarts. “Gentlemen,” Harry said, “I bought these sodas on my first visit to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, on the day I entered into Hogwarts. I have been saving them for special occasions; there is a minor enchantment on them to ensure they are drunk at the right time. This is the last of my supply, but I do not think there will ever come a finer occasion. Shall we?” Dumbledore took a soda can from Harry, and Harry tossed another to Professor Quirrell. The two older men each muttered identical charms over the can and frowned briefly at the result. Harry, for his part, simply popped the top and drank. @@ -108,7 +108,7 @@ “Plan B,” said Harry. “Encase the Dementor in dense metal with a high melting point, probably tungsten, drop it into an active volcano, and hope it ends up inside Earth’s mantle. Ah, the whole planet is filled with molten lava under its surface—” -“Yes,” said Professor Quirrell. “I know.” The Defence Professor was wearing a very odd smile. “I really should have thought of that myself, all things considered. Tell me, Mr~Potter, if you wanted to lose something where no one would ever find it again, where would you put it?” +“Yes,” said Professor Quirrell. “I know.” The Defence Professor was wearing a very odd smile. “I really should have thought of that myself, all things considered. Tell me, Mr~Potter, if you wanted to lose something where no-one would ever find it again, where would you put it?” Harry considered this question. “I suppose I shouldn’t ask \emph{what} you’ve found that needs losing—” @@ -259,7 +259,7 @@ The prior probabilities said that it had been Professor Trelawney, Hogwarts’s resident seer. Seers were rare, so if you counted up most of the seconds Professor McGonagall had spent in the presence of a seer over the course of her lifetime, most of those seer-seconds would be Trelawney-seconds. -Professor McGonagall had told Dumbledore, and would have told no one else about the prophecy without permission. +Professor McGonagall had told Dumbledore, and would have told no-one else about the prophecy without permission. Therefore, it was Albus Dumbledore who had arranged for Severus Snape to somehow learn of the prophecy. And Dumbledore himself had solved the riddle successfully, or he would not have selected \emph{Severus}, who had once loved Lily, as the intermediary. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-047.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-047.tex index 59a2d63b8..be6e9efc6 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-047.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-047.tex @@ -165,7 +165,7 @@ \chapter{Personhood Theory} “Am I supposed to just \emph{believe} that?” -“You can ask Professor Quirrell if you don’t believe me,” said Harry. “Ask him whether Harry Potter can cast a corporeal Patronus, and tell him that I told you to ask. He’d know the request was from me, no one else would know.” +“You can ask Professor Quirrell if you don’t believe me,” said Harry. “Ask him whether Harry Potter can cast a corporeal Patronus, and tell him that I told you to ask. He’d know the request was from me, no-one else would know.” Oh, and now Draco was to trust \emph{Professor Quirrell?} Still, knowing Harry, it might be true; and Professor Quirrell wouldn’t lie for trivial reasons. @@ -225,7 +225,7 @@ \chapter{Personhood Theory} And Harry Potter proceeded to describe the Parkinsons and Montagues and Boles with a calmly cutting accuracy that Draco wouldn’t have dared \emph{think} to himself in case there was a Legilimens around, it was \emph{beyond} insult, they would \emph{kill} Harry if they ever heard… -“To sum up,” Harry finished, “they don’t have any power themselves. They don’t have any wealth themselves. If they didn’t have Muggleborns to hate, if all the Muggleborns vanished the way they say they \emph{want}, they’d wake up one morning and find they had \emph{nothing.} But so long as they can say purebloods are superior, they can feel superior themselves, they can feel like part of the master class. Even though your father would never dream of inviting them to dinner, even though there’s not one Galleon in their vaults, even if they did worse on their OWLs than the worst Muggleborn in Hogwarts. Even if they can’t cast the Patronus Charm any more. Everything is the Muggleborns’ fault to them, they have someone besides themselves to blame for their own failures, and that makes them even weaker. That’s what Slytherin House is becoming, \emph{pathetic,} and the root of the problem is hating Muggleborns.” +“To sum up,” Harry finished, “they don’t have any power themselves. They don’t have any wealth themselves. If they didn’t have Muggle-borns to hate, if all the Muggle-borns vanished the way they say they \emph{want}, they’d wake up one morning and find they had \emph{nothing.} But so long as they can say purebloods are superior, they can feel superior themselves, they can feel like part of the master class. Even though your father would never dream of inviting them to dinner, even though there’s not one Galleon in their vaults, even if they did worse on their OWLs than the worst Muggle-born in Hogwarts. Even if they can’t cast the Patronus Charm any more. Everything is the Muggle-borns’ fault to them, they have someone besides themselves to blame for their own failures, and that makes them even weaker. That’s what Slytherin House is becoming, \emph{pathetic,} and the root of the problem is hating Muggle-borns.” “Salazar Slytherin himself said that mudbloods needed to be cast out! That they were weakening our blood—” Draco’s voice had risen to a shout. @@ -237,17 +237,17 @@ \chapter{Personhood Theory} “\emph{Skin colour?}” said Draco. -“I know, skin colour instead of anything important like blood purity, isn’t it ridiculous? But then something in the world changed, and \emph{now} you can’t find any great scientists who still think skin colour should matter, only saddos like the ones I told you about. Salazar Slytherin made the mistake when everyone else was making it, because he grew up believing it, not because he was \emph{desperate for someone to hate.} There were a few people who did better than everyone else around them, and \emph{they} were exceptionally good. But the ones who just accepted what everyone else thought weren’t \emph{exceptionally} evil. The sad fact is that most people just don’t notice a moral issue at all unless someone else is pointing it out to them; and once they’re as old as Salazar was when he met Godric, they’ve lost the ability to change their minds. Only \emph{then} Hogwarts was built, and Hogwarts started sending acceptance letters to Muggleborns like Godric insisted, and more and more people began to notice that Muggleborns \emph{weren’t} any different. Now it’s a big political issue instead of something that everyone just believes without thinking about it. And the \emph{correct} answer is that Muggleborns \emph{aren’t} any weaker than purebloods. So \emph{now} the people who end up siding with what Salazar once believed, are either people who grew up in very closed pureblood environments like you, \emph{or} people who are so pathetic themselves that they’re desperate for someone to feel superior to, people who love to hate.” +“I know, skin colour instead of anything important like blood purity, isn’t it ridiculous? But then something in the world changed, and \emph{now} you can’t find any great scientists who still think skin colour should matter, only saddos like the ones I told you about. Salazar Slytherin made the mistake when everyone else was making it, because he grew up believing it, not because he was \emph{desperate for someone to hate.} There were a few people who did better than everyone else around them, and \emph{they} were exceptionally good. But the ones who just accepted what everyone else thought weren’t \emph{exceptionally} evil. The sad fact is that most people just don’t notice a moral issue at all unless someone else is pointing it out to them; and once they’re as old as Salazar was when he met Godric, they’ve lost the ability to change their minds. Only \emph{then} Hogwarts was built, and Hogwarts started sending acceptance letters to Muggle-borns like Godric insisted, and more and more people began to notice that Muggle-borns \emph{weren’t} any different. Now it’s a big political issue instead of something that everyone just believes without thinking about it. And the \emph{correct} answer is that Muggle-borns \emph{aren’t} any weaker than purebloods. So \emph{now} the people who end up siding with what Salazar once believed, are either people who grew up in very closed pureblood environments like you, \emph{or} people who are so pathetic themselves that they’re desperate for someone to feel superior to, people who love to hate.” “That doesn’t…that doesn’t sound right…” Draco’s voice said. His ears listened, and wondered that he couldn’t come up with anything better to say. -“It doesn’t? Draco, you \emph{know} now there’s nothing wrong with Hermione Granger. You had trouble dropping her off a roof, I hear. Even though you knew she’d taken a Feather-Falling Potion, even though you knew she was safe. What sort of person do you think wants to \emph{kill} her, not for any wrong she did to them, just because she’s a Muggleborn? Even though she’s, she’s just a young girl who would help them with their homework in a second, if they ever asked her,” Harry’s voice broke, “what sort of person wants her to \emph{die?}” +“It doesn’t? Draco, you \emph{know} now there’s nothing wrong with Hermione Granger. You had trouble dropping her off a roof, I hear. Even though you knew she’d taken a Feather-Falling Potion, even though you knew she was safe. What sort of person do you think wants to \emph{kill} her, not for any wrong she did to them, just because she’s a Muggle-born? Even though she’s, she’s just a young girl who would help them with their homework in a second, if they ever asked her,” Harry’s voice broke, “what sort of person wants her to \emph{die?}” \emph{Father—} Draco felt split in two, he seemed to be having a problem with dual vision, \emph{Granger is a mudblood, she should die} and a girl hanging from his hand on the rooftop, like seeing double, seeing double— -“And anyone who \emph{doesn’t} want Hermione Granger to die, won’t want to hang around the sort of people who \emph{do!} That’s all people think Slytherin \emph{is} now, not clever planning, not trying to achieve greatness, just hating Muggleborns! I paid Morag a Sickle to ask Padma why she hadn’t gone to Slytherin, we both know she got the option. And Morag told me that Padma just gave her a \emph{look} and said that she wasn’t Pansy Parkinson. You see? The \emph{best} students with the virtues of more than one House, the students with \emph{choices,} they go under the Hat thinking \emph{anywhere but Slytherin,} and someone like Padma ends up in Ravenclaw. And…I think the Sorting Hat tries to maintain a balance in the Sorting, so it fills out the ranks of Slytherin with anyone who \emph{isn’t} repelled by all the hatred. So instead of Padma Patil, Slytherin gets Pansy Parkinson. She’s not very cunning, and she’s not very ambitious, but she’s the sort of person who doesn’t mind what Slytherin is turning into. And the more Padmas go to Ravenclaw and the more Pansies go to Slytherin, the more the process accelerates. \emph{It’s destroying Slytherin House, Draco!}” +“And anyone who \emph{doesn’t} want Hermione Granger to die, won’t want to hang around the sort of people who \emph{do!} That’s all people think Slytherin \emph{is} now, not clever planning, not trying to achieve greatness, just hating Muggle-borns! I paid Morag a Sickle to ask Padma why she hadn’t gone to Slytherin, we both know she got the option. And Morag told me that Padma just gave her a \emph{look} and said that she wasn’t Pansy Parkinson. You see? The \emph{best} students with the virtues of more than one House, the students with \emph{choices,} they go under the Hat thinking \emph{anywhere but Slytherin,} and someone like Padma ends up in Ravenclaw. And…I think the Sorting Hat tries to maintain a balance in the Sorting, so it fills out the ranks of Slytherin with anyone who \emph{isn’t} repelled by all the hatred. So instead of Padma Patil, Slytherin gets Pansy Parkinson. She’s not very cunning, and she’s not very ambitious, but she’s the sort of person who doesn’t mind what Slytherin is turning into. And the more Padmas go to Ravenclaw and the more Pansies go to Slytherin, the more the process accelerates. \emph{It’s destroying Slytherin House, Draco!}” It had a ring of awful truth, Padma \emph{had} belonged in Slytherin…and instead Slytherin got Pansy…Father rallied lesser families like the Parkinsons because they were convenient sources of support, but Father hadn’t realized the \emph{consequences} of associating Slytherin’s name with them… @@ -283,7 +283,7 @@ \chapter{Personhood Theory} … -“You know,” Draco said, his voice remarkably calm, all things considered, “every time I wonder if you do things like this just to annoy me, I tell myself that it \emph{has} to be accidental, \emph{no one} could possibly do this sort of thing on purpose even if they tried until blood trickled out of their ears. That’s the only reason I’m not going to strangle you now.” +“You know,” Draco said, his voice remarkably calm, all things considered, “every time I wonder if you do things like this just to annoy me, I tell myself that it \emph{has} to be accidental, \emph{no-one} could possibly do this sort of thing on purpose even if they tried until blood trickled out of their ears. That’s the only reason I’m not going to strangle you now.” “Huh?” @@ -381,7 +381,7 @@ \chapter{Personhood Theory} Harry looked up at Draco. -“So we could fight,” Harry said, “we could just keep on with the same fight. You could tell me that it was right for my mother to die, because she was the wife of James, who killed a Death Eater. But bad for \emph{your} mother to die, because \emph{she} was innocent. And I could tell you that it was right for your mother to die, that Dumbledore must have had some \emph{reason} that made it \emph{okay} to burn her alive in her own bedroom; but bad for \emph{my} mother to die. But you know, Draco, either way, wouldn’t it be \emph{obvious} that we were just being biased? Because the rule that says that it’s wrong to kill innocent people, that rule can’t switch on for my mother and off for yours, and it can’t switch on for your mother and off for mine. If you tell me that Lily was an enemy of the Death Eaters and it’s right to kill your enemies, then the same rule says that Dumbledore was right to kill Narcissa, since she was \emph{his} enemy.” Harry’s voice went hoarse. “So if the two of us are going to agree on anything, it’s going to be that \emph{neither} of their deaths were right and that \emph{no one’s} mother should die any more.” +“So we could fight,” Harry said, “we could just keep on with the same fight. You could tell me that it was right for my mother to die, because she was the wife of James, who killed a Death Eater. But bad for \emph{your} mother to die, because \emph{she} was innocent. And I could tell you that it was right for your mother to die, that Dumbledore must have had some \emph{reason} that made it \emph{okay} to burn her alive in her own bedroom; but bad for \emph{my} mother to die. But you know, Draco, either way, wouldn’t it be \emph{obvious} that we were just being biased? Because the rule that says that it’s wrong to kill innocent people, that rule can’t switch on for my mother and off for yours, and it can’t switch on for your mother and off for mine. If you tell me that Lily was an enemy of the Death Eaters and it’s right to kill your enemies, then the same rule says that Dumbledore was right to kill Narcissa, since she was \emph{his} enemy.” Harry’s voice went hoarse. “So if the two of us are going to agree on anything, it’s going to be that \emph{neither} of their deaths were right and that \emph{no-one’s} mother should die any more.” \later @@ -459,7 +459,7 @@ \chapter{Personhood Theory} Then Draco remembered the other thing Harry had told him to ask Professor Quirrell, and thought of a different test. -“You \emph{know},” said Draco. “You \emph{know} what it costs me, if I agree that the poison in Slytherin’s House is hating Muggleborns, and say that Lily Potter’s death was sad. And that’s \emph{part of your plan,} don’t tell me it’s not.” +“You \emph{know},” said Draco. “You \emph{know} what it costs me, if I agree that the poison in Slytherin’s House is hating Muggle-borns, and say that Lily Potter’s death was sad. And that’s \emph{part of your plan,} don’t tell me it’s not.” Harry said nothing, which was wise of him. @@ -467,7 +467,7 @@ \chapter{Personhood Theory} \later -Draco pushed open the door to which the portraits had directed them, and this time it was the right door. Before them was a small empty place of stone set against the night sky. Not a roof like the one he’d dropped Harry from, but a tiny and proper courtyard, far above the ground. With proper railings, elaborate traceries of stone that flushed seamlessly into the stone floor…How so much \emph{artistry} had been infused into the creation of Hogwarts was something that still awed Draco every time he thought about it. There must have been some way to do it all at once, no one could have detailed so much piece by piece, the castle \emph{changed} and every new piece was like that. It was so far beyond the wizardry of these fading days that no one would have believed it if they hadn’t seen the proof in Hogwarts itself. +Draco pushed open the door to which the portraits had directed them, and this time it was the right door. Before them was a small empty place of stone set against the night sky. Not a roof like the one he’d dropped Harry from, but a tiny and proper courtyard, far above the ground. With proper railings, elaborate traceries of stone that flushed seamlessly into the stone floor…How so much \emph{artistry} had been infused into the creation of Hogwarts was something that still awed Draco every time he thought about it. There must have been some way to do it all at once, no-one could have detailed so much piece by piece, the castle \emph{changed} and every new piece was like that. It was so far beyond the wizardry of these fading days that no-one would have believed it if they hadn’t seen the proof in Hogwarts itself. Cloudless and cold, the winter night sky; it got dark long before students’ curfew, in the final days of January. @@ -497,7 +497,7 @@ \chapter{Personhood Theory} Harry raised his wand then, and Draco turned, and looked away, as he had promised; looked toward the stone floor and stone wall in which the door was set. For Draco had promised not to look, and not to tell anyone of what Harry had said, or anything at all of what happened here this night, though he didn’t know why it was to be so secret. -“I have a dream,” said Harry’s voice, “that one day sentient beings will be judged by the patterns of their minds, and not their colour or their shape or the stuff they’re made of, or who their parents were. Because if we can get along with crystal things some day, how silly would it be not to get along with Muggleborns, who are shaped like us, and think like us, as alike to us as peas in a pod? The crystal things wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference. How impossible is it to imagine that the hatred poisoning Slytherin House would be worth taking with us to the stars? Every life is precious, everything that thinks and knows itself and doesn’t want to die. Lily Potter’s life was precious, and Narcissa Malfoy’s life was precious, even though it’s too late for them now, it was sad when they died. But there are other lives that are still alive to be fought for. Your life, and my life, and Hermione Granger’s life, all the lives of Earth, and all the lives beyond, to be defended and protected, \emph{EXPECTO PATRONUM!}” +“I have a dream,” said Harry’s voice, “that one day sentient beings will be judged by the patterns of their minds, and not their colour or their shape or the stuff they’re made of, or who their parents were. Because if we can get along with crystal things some day, how silly would it be not to get along with Muggle-borns, who are shaped like us, and think like us, as alike to us as peas in a pod? The crystal things wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference. How impossible is it to imagine that the hatred poisoning Slytherin House would be worth taking with us to the stars? Every life is precious, everything that thinks and knows itself and doesn’t want to die. Lily Potter’s life was precious, and Narcissa Malfoy’s life was precious, even though it’s too late for them now, it was sad when they died. But there are other lives that are still alive to be fought for. Your life, and my life, and Hermione Granger’s life, all the lives of Earth, and all the lives beyond, to be defended and protected, \emph{EXPECTO PATRONUM!}” And there was light. @@ -567,7 +567,7 @@ \chapter{Personhood Theory} Harry waited, with a patient look on his face, while Draco tried to make his voice work again. -“I’ll help you fix the problem with Slytherin House hating Muggleborns,” Draco finished in a whisper. “And I’ll say it was sad that Lily Potter died.” +“I’ll help you fix the problem with Slytherin House hating Muggle-borns,” Draco finished in a whisper. “And I’ll say it was sad that Lily Potter died.” “So be it,” said Harry. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-048.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-048.tex index a45f4570b..1649b0e18 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-048.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-048.tex @@ -31,7 +31,7 @@ \chapter{Utilitarian Priorities} \emph{That couldn’t, couldn’t possibly be true, surely no wizard would be stupid enough to do \emph{that…}} -And Harry knew, with a dreadful sinking feeling, that \emph{of course} they would be that stupid. Salazar Slytherin had probably never considered the moral implications of snake intelligence for even one second, just like it hadn’t ever occurred to Salazar that \emph{Muggleborns} were intelligent enough to deserve personhood rights. Most people just didn’t see moral issues at all unless someone else was pointing them out… +And Harry knew, with a dreadful sinking feeling, that \emph{of course} they would be that stupid. Salazar Slytherin had probably never considered the moral implications of snake intelligence for even one second, just like it hadn’t ever occurred to Salazar that \emph{Muggle-borns} were intelligent enough to deserve personhood rights. Most people just didn’t see moral issues at all unless someone else was pointing them out… “Harry?” said Terry from beside him, sounding like he was afraid he would regret asking. “Why are you staring at your fork like that?” @@ -93,7 +93,7 @@ \chapter{Utilitarian Priorities} “There are days,” said Hermione Granger, “when I really, truly, have absolutely no idea what goes on inside that head of yours.” -“Look, it’s a question of multiplication, okay? There’s a \emph{lot} of plants in the world, if they’re \emph{not} sentient then they’re not important, but if plants \emph{are} people then they’ve got more moral weight than all the human beings in the world put together. Now, of course your brain doesn’t realize that on an intuitive level, but that’s because the brain can’t multiply. Like if you ask three separate groups of Canadian households how much they’ll pay to save two thousand, twenty thousand, or two hundred thousand birds from dying in oil ponds, the three groups will respectively state that they’re willing to pay seventy-eight, eighty-eight, and eighty dollars. No difference, in other words. It’s called scope insensitivity. Your brain imagines a single bird struggling in an oil pond, and that image creates some amount of emotion that determines your willingness to pay. But no one can visualize even two thousand of anything, so the \emph{quantity} just gets thrown straight out the window. Now try to \emph{correct} that bias with respect to a \emph{hundred trillion} sentient blades of grass, and you’ll realize that this could be thousands of times more important than we used to think the whole human species was…oh thank Azathoth, this says it’s just mandrakes that can talk and they speak regular human language out loud, not that there’s a spell you can use to talk with \emph{any} plant—” +“Look, it’s a question of multiplication, okay? There’s a \emph{lot} of plants in the world, if they’re \emph{not} sentient then they’re not important, but if plants \emph{are} people then they’ve got more moral weight than all the human beings in the world put together. Now, of course your brain doesn’t realize that on an intuitive level, but that’s because the brain can’t multiply. Like if you ask three separate groups of Canadian households how much they’ll pay to save two thousand, twenty thousand, or two hundred thousand birds from dying in oil ponds, the three groups will respectively state that they’re willing to pay seventy-eight, eighty-eight, and eighty dollars. No difference, in other words. It’s called scope insensitivity. Your brain imagines a single bird struggling in an oil pond, and that image creates some amount of emotion that determines your willingness to pay. But no-one can visualize even two thousand of anything, so the \emph{quantity} just gets thrown straight out the window. Now try to \emph{correct} that bias with respect to a \emph{hundred trillion} sentient blades of grass, and you’ll realize that this could be thousands of times more important than we used to think the whole human species was…oh thank Azathoth, this says it’s just mandrakes that can talk and they speak regular human language out loud, not that there’s a spell you can use to talk with \emph{any} plant—” “Ron came to me at breakfast yesterday morning,” Hermione said. Now her voice sounded a little quiet, a little sad, maybe even a little scared. “He said he’d been dreadfully shocked to see me kiss you. That what you said while you were Demented should’ve shown me how much evil you were hiding inside. And that if I was going to be a follower of a Dark Wizard, then he wasn’t sure he wanted to be in my army any more.” @@ -127,11 +127,11 @@ \chapter{Utilitarian Priorities} Hermione smiled a little, and blinked a few times. -“Hey, \emph{I} have to worry about \emph{actually} going evil. \emph{Here} the worst case scenario is that people think you’re more evil than you really are. Is that going to kill you? I mean, is it all \emph{that} bad?” +“Hey, \emph{I} have to worry about \emph{actually} going evil. \emph{Here} the worst-case scenario is that people think you’re more evil than you really are. Is that going to kill you? I mean, is it all \emph{that} bad?” The young girl nodded, her face screwed up tight. -“Look, Hermione…if you worry that much about what other people think, if you’re unhappy whenever other people don’t picture you exactly the same way you picture yourself, that’s \emph{already} dooming yourself to always be unhappy. No one ever thinks of us just the same way we think of ourselves.” +“Look, Hermione…if you worry that much about what other people think, if you’re unhappy whenever other people don’t picture you exactly the same way you picture yourself, that’s \emph{already} dooming yourself to always be unhappy. No-one ever thinks of us just the same way we think of ourselves.” “I don’t know how to explain to you,” Hermione said in a sad soft voice. “I’m not sure it’s something you could ever understand, Harry. All I can think of to say is, how would you feel if \emph{I} thought you were evil?” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-049.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-049.tex index 62919ffb1..d90a9b750 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-049.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-049.tex @@ -94,7 +94,7 @@ \chapter{Prior Information} \emph{No,} thought Harry. But to maintain plausible deniability, you needed a general policy of sometimes evading questions even when you had nothing to hide…”With respect, Professor Quirrell, if I had made such progress, it is not \emph{quite} obvious to me that I should tell you about it.” -Professor Quirrell sipped from his own water glass again. “Well then, Mr~Potter, I shall freely tell you what I know or suspect. First, I believe the Chamber of Secrets is real, as is Slytherin’s Monster. Miss~Myrtle’s death was not discovered until hours after her demise, even though the wards should have alerted the Headmaster instantly. Therefore her murder was performed either by Headmaster Dippet, which is unlikely, or by some entity which Salazar Slytherin keyed into his wards at a higher level than the Headmaster himself. Second, I suspect that contrary to popular legend, the purpose of Slytherin’s Monster was \emph{not} to rid Hogwarts of Muggleborns. Unless Slytherin’s Monster were powerful enough to defeat the Headmaster of Hogwarts and all the teachers, it could not triumph by force. Multiple murders in secrecy would result in the school’s closure, as nearly happened in 1943, or in the placing of new wards. So why Slytherin’s Monster, Mr~Potter? What true purpose does it serve?” +Professor Quirrell sipped from his own water glass again. “Well then, Mr~Potter, I shall freely tell you what I know or suspect. First, I believe the Chamber of Secrets is real, as is Slytherin’s Monster. Miss~Myrtle’s death was not discovered until hours after her demise, even though the wards should have alerted the Headmaster instantly. Therefore her murder was performed either by Headmaster Dippet, which is unlikely, or by some entity which Salazar Slytherin keyed into his wards at a higher level than the Headmaster himself. Second, I suspect that contrary to popular legend, the purpose of Slytherin’s Monster was \emph{not} to rid Hogwarts of Muggle-borns. Unless Slytherin’s Monster were powerful enough to defeat the Headmaster of Hogwarts and all the teachers, it could not triumph by force. Multiple murders in secrecy would result in the school’s closure, as nearly happened in 1943, or in the placing of new wards. So why Slytherin’s Monster, Mr~Potter? What true purpose does it serve?” “Ah…” Harry dropped his gaze to his water glass and tried to think. “To kill anyone who got into the Chamber and didn’t belong there—” @@ -217,7 +217,7 @@ \chapter{Prior Information} “\parsel{Hourglass is restricted,}” Harry said. “\parsel{Cannot use until ninth hour.}” -The snake twitched its head, a snakish nod. “\parsel{Many restrictions. Locked to your use only, cannot be stolen. Cannot transport other humans. But snake carried in pouch, I suspect will go with. Think possible to hold hourglass motionless within shell, without disturbing wards, while you turn shell around it. We will test in seven days. Will not speak of plans beyond this. You say nothing, to no one. Give no sign of expectancy, none. Understand?}” +The snake twitched its head, a snakish nod. “\parsel{Many restrictions. Locked to your use only, cannot be stolen. Cannot transport other humans. But snake carried in pouch, I suspect will go with. Think possible to hold hourglass motionless within shell, without disturbing wards, while you turn shell around it. We will test in seven days. Will not speak of plans beyond this. You say nothing, to no-one. Give no sign of expectancy, none. Understand?}” Harry nodded. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-050.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-050.tex index 6aa859c26..986c5cad0 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-050.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-050.tex @@ -8,11 +8,11 @@ \chapter{Self Centeredness} She spun around quick as lightning, her wand already snatched up from a pocket of her robes and leaping into her hands, if Harry Potter thought he could sneak up on and scare \emph{her} that easily— -There was no one there. +There was no-one there. Instantly Padma spun around and looked in the other direction, if it had been a Ventriloquism Charm— -There was no one there, either. +There was no-one there, either. The whispering sigh came again, soft and dangerous with a slight hissing undertone. @@ -22,7 +22,7 @@ \chapter{Self Centeredness} She’d fought Potter and his Chaos Legion a dozen times over, and she \emph{knew} that this was Harry Potter doing this somehow… -…even though the Ventriloquism Charm was only line-of-sight, and in the winding corridor, she could easily see all the way to the nearest twist both forward and backward, and there was no one there… +…even though the Ventriloquism Charm was only line-of-sight, and in the winding corridor, she could easily see all the way to the nearest twist both forward and backward, and there was no-one there… …it didn’t matter. She knew her enemy. @@ -134,9 +134,9 @@ \chapter{Self Centeredness} They didn’t say anything, just stared, along with everyone else in the dorm room, as Harry Potter walked over to the stairs. -And just as he started up, he said, “And no one’s to pester her with questions unless \emph{she} wants to talk about it, I hope everyone’s \emph{got that?}” +And just as he started up, he said, “And no-one’s to pester her with questions unless \emph{she} wants to talk about it, I hope everyone’s \emph{got that?}” -“Got it,” said most of the first years and some of the older students, a few of them sounding quite scared. +“Got it,” said most of the first-years and some of the older students, a few of them sounding quite scared. \later diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-051.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-051.tex index 69ca1c69f..fea1431d1 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-051.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-051.tex @@ -29,7 +29,7 @@ The snake watched him for a moment, with those flat eyes, and then hissed, “\parsel{Do not wish to explain here. Prefer to be elsewhere first. Need to leave unobserved, without sign we have ever departed room.}” -“\parsel{So no one can track us,}” hissed Harry. +“\parsel{So no-one can track us,}” hissed Harry. “\parsel{Yes. Do you trust me that much, boy? Think before answer. I will have important request of you, which requires trust; if say no regardless, then say no now.}” @@ -169,7 +169,7 @@ “Without telling me yet…” said Harry. “Can you say if the need is desperate?” -“There is someone in the most terrible want of your help,” Professor Quirrell said simply, “and there is no one who can help them but you.” +“There is someone in the most terrible want of your help,” Professor Quirrell said simply, “and there is no-one who can help them but you.” There was another silence, but not a long one. @@ -179,9 +179,9 @@ Harry nodded. That wasn’t surprising, not when you confronted a Dementor on the level of its true existence, beyond anthropomorphism. Death might be the last enemy, but it wasn’t a sentient enemy. When humanity had wiped out smallpox, smallpox hadn’t fought back. -“Mr~Potter, the central branch of Gringotts is guarded by every spell high and low that the goblins know. Even so those vaults have been successfully robbed; for what wizardry can do, wizardry can undo. And yet no one has ever escaped from Azkaban. No one. For every Charm there is a counter-Charm, for every ward there is a bypass. How can it be that no one has ever been rescued from Azkaban?” +“Mr~Potter, the central branch of Gringotts is guarded by every spell high and low that the goblins know. Even so those vaults have been successfully robbed; for what wizardry can do, wizardry can undo. And yet no-one has ever escaped from Azkaban. No-one. For every Charm there is a counter-Charm, for every ward there is a bypass. How can it be that no-one has ever been rescued from Azkaban?” -“Because Azkaban has something invincible,” Harry said. “Something so terrible that no one can defeat it.” +“Because Azkaban has something invincible,” Harry said. “Something so terrible that no-one can defeat it.” That was the keystone of their perfect security, it had to be, nothing human. It was Death that guarded Azkaban. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-052.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-052.tex index 80a628fdf..bf1894cb8 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-052.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-052.tex @@ -128,7 +128,7 @@ …that was what the world knew of her, what the world believed of her. -But before then, Professor Quirrell had told Harry, before the debut of the Dark Lord’s most terrible servant, there had been a girl in Slytherin who had been quiet, keeping mostly to herself, harming no one. Afterwards there had been made-up stories told about her, memories changing in retrospect (Harry knew well the research on that). But at the time, while she still attended school, the most talented witch in Hogwarts had been known as a gentle girl (Professor Quirrell had said). Her few friends had been surprised when she’d joined the Death Eaters, and more surprised that she’d been hiding so much darkness behind that sad, wistful smile. +But before then, Professor Quirrell had told Harry, before the debut of the Dark Lord’s most terrible servant, there had been a girl in Slytherin who had been quiet, keeping mostly to herself, harming no-one. Afterwards there had been made-up stories told about her, memories changing in retrospect (Harry knew well the research on that). But at the time, while she still attended school, the most talented witch in Hogwarts had been known as a gentle girl (Professor Quirrell had said). Her few friends had been surprised when she’d joined the Death Eaters, and more surprised that she’d been hiding so much darkness behind that sad, wistful smile. That was who Bellatrix had once been, the most promising witch of her own generation, before the Dark Lord stole her and broke her, shattered her and reshaped her, binding her to him on a deeper level and with darker arts than any Imperius. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-053.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-053.tex index b7049fdbe..71721cb9b 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-053.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-053.tex @@ -92,7 +92,7 @@ And as soon as you looked at it that way, you realized that perfect crimes probably got committed \emph{all the time}, and the coroner marked it down as death by natural causes, or the newspaper reported that the shop had never been very profitable and had finally gone out of business… -When Bellatrix Black’s corpse was found dead in her cell the next morning, there within the prison of Azkaban from which (everyone knew) no one had ever escaped, nobody bothered doing an autopsy. Nobody thought twice about it. They just locked up the corridor and left, and the \emph{Daily Prophet} reported it in the obituary column the next day… +When Bellatrix Black’s corpse was found dead in her cell the next morning, there within the prison of Azkaban from which (everyone knew) no-one had ever escaped, nobody bothered doing an autopsy. Nobody thought twice about it. They just locked up the corridor and left, and the \emph{Daily Prophet} reported it in the obituary column the next day… …that was the perfect crime which Professor Quirrell had planned. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-054.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-054.tex index cf1029b3f..c347f3711 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-054.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-054.tex @@ -305,7 +305,7 @@ That scream choked off too, and then there was silence except for Bahry’s frantic panting. -His thoughts were slow, confused, disarrayed. His opponent had been \emph{insanely} powerful, that hadn’t been a duel, it had been like his first year as a trainee Auror trying to fight Madam Tarma. The Death-Eaters hadn’t been a tenth that good, Mad-Eye Moody wasn’t that good…and who, what, how in the name of Merlin’s balls had anyone blocked a \emph{Killing Curse?} +His thoughts were slow, confused, disarrayed. His opponent had been \emph{insanely} powerful, that hadn’t been a duel, it had been like his first year as a trainee Auror trying to fight Madam Tarma. The Death Eaters hadn’t been a tenth that good, Mad-Eye Moody wasn’t that good…and who, what, how in the name of Merlin’s balls had anyone blocked a \emph{Killing Curse?} Bahry managed to summon the energy to press his wand against his rib, mutter the healing spell, and then press it again to his shoulder. It took more out of him than it should have, took far too much out of him, his magic was within a bare breath of utter exhaustion; he didn’t have anything left for his minor cuts and bruises or even to reinforce the scraps left of his shielding. It was all he could do not to let his Patronus go out. @@ -331,7 +331,7 @@ Bahry’s mind was still dazed, but things were slowly starting to click into place. -Harry Potter, the only wizard ever to survive a Killing Curse. Bahry might have been able to dodge the green death, he’d certainly been trying, but if the matter came up before the Wizengamot, they’d rule it was a life debt to a Noble House. +Harry Potter, the only wizard ever to survive a Killing Curse. Bahry might have been able to dodge the green death, he’d certainly been trying, but if the matter came up before the Wizengamot, they’d rule it was a life-debt to a Noble House. “I see,” Bahry said in a much gentler growl. He started to walk toward the boy. “Son, I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, but I need you to drop the cloak and drop your wand.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-055.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-055.tex index 1ba7a56bd..09c4664d2 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-055.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-055.tex @@ -10,7 +10,7 @@ The thought engendered no feeling of joy, only a sort of empty despair. -Harry would still be caught soon, and no matter how he tried to explain, it still wouldn’t look good. No one would trust him again, they would think he was the next Dark Lord, they wouldn’t help him when it came time to fight Lord Voldemort, Hermione would give up on him, probably even Dumbledore would look for another hero… +Harry would still be caught soon, and no matter how he tried to explain, it still wouldn’t look good. No-one would trust him again, they would think he was the next Dark Lord, they wouldn’t help him when it came time to fight Lord Voldemort, Hermione would give up on him, probably even Dumbledore would look for another hero… …maybe they’d just send him home to his parents. @@ -20,7 +20,7 @@ He’d been stupid. He \emph{shouldn’t} have stunned the police officer, should have just \emph{stayed} with his original story about being kidnapped by Professor Quirrell… -\emph{It might not be too late,} whispered a voice inside him. \emph{You might still be able to fix your mistake. The Auror saw you, he remembers that you stunned him…but if he were dead, if Professor Quirrell were dead, if Bellatrix were dead, there would be no one to contradict your story.} +\emph{It might not be too late,} whispered a voice inside him. \emph{You might still be able to fix your mistake. The Auror saw you, he remembers that you stunned him…but if he were dead, if Professor Quirrell were dead, if Bellatrix were dead, there would be no-one to contradict your story.} Slowly, Harry’s hand started to rise, pointing his wand at the police officer and— @@ -88,7 +88,7 @@ Despair was the Dementors’ influence. -\emph{Where there’s life, there’s hope. The Auror is still alive. Professor Quirrell is still alive. Bellatrix is still alive. I’m still alive. No one’s actually died yet…} +\emph{Where there’s life, there’s hope. The Auror is still alive. Professor Quirrell is still alive. Bellatrix is still alive. I’m still alive. No-one’s actually died yet…} Harry could picture the Earth, now, in the midst of the star-field, the blue-white orb. @@ -286,7 +286,7 @@ She took a stride toward the window, ignoring the Dementor now, and looked up at the sky above, to check with her own eyes the patrolling broomsticks. She couldn’t see the whole sky from here, but she saw ten brooms go past on a patrol pattern and that already ought to be enough to catch anyone, though she fully meant to put every broom she could in the air. Her Aurors were equipped with the fastest racing broom currently on the market, the Nimbus 2000; no unsuccessful chases for \emph{her} people. -Amelia turned back from the window, and frowned. The room was getting ridiculously crowded, and two thirds of these people didn’t \emph{need} to be here, they just \emph{wanted} to be close to the centre of the action. If there was one thing Amelia couldn’t tolerate, it was people who did what they wanted instead of what was needed. +Amelia turned back from the window, and frowned. The room was getting ridiculously crowded, and two-thirds of these people didn’t \emph{need} to be here, they just \emph{wanted} to be close to the centre of the action. If there was one thing Amelia couldn’t tolerate, it was people who did what they wanted instead of what was needed. “All right, you lot!” Amelia bellowed at them. “Stop hanging around here and start securing the top level of each spiral! That’s right,” she said to the looks of surprise, “all three! They could tunnel through a floor or a ceiling to go between them, in case you hadn’t worked that out! We’re going down level by level until we catch them! I’ll take C spiral, Scrimgeour, you’re on B…” She paused, then, remembering that Mad-Eye had retired last year, who could she…”Shacklebolt, you’re on the A spiral, take the strongest other fighters with you! Check every set of cells you pass, look under blankets, do the full set of detection Charms in every corridor! Nobody leaves Azkaban until the criminals are caught, nobody! And…” People looked at Amelia in surprise as her voice trailed off. @@ -504,6 +504,6 @@ At a thought, her silver sparrow fluttered onto her shoulder. -“Drop behind us to guard our rear,” Emmeline murmured softly, almost without moving her lips, “wait until no one is looking directly at you, then go to Albus Dumbledore. If he is not already by himself, wait until he is. And tell him this: Bellatrix Black is breaking out of Azkaban, and the Dementors cannot find her.” +“Drop behind us to guard our rear,” Emmeline murmured softly, almost without moving her lips, “wait until no-one is looking directly at you, then go to Albus Dumbledore. If he is not already by himself, wait until he is. And tell him this: Bellatrix Black is breaking out of Azkaban, and the Dementors cannot find her.” % LocalWords: Aw Li’s Harmonia Nectere Passus Ora McCusker’s Weinbach diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-059.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-059.tex index 54b39ee9e..e879c1ee9 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-059.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-059.tex @@ -171,7 +171,7 @@ And Harry decided that while it was possible to recover from the error of wasting the portkey in his possession, it was not possible to recover from the error of letting a brain go too long without oxygen. -So Harry took the next portkey in the sequence from his pouch, as he slowed his broomstick to a halt in the bright blue air (Harry didn’t know, when he thought about it, whether a portkey’s ability to adjust for the Earth’s rotation also included the ability to match velocity in general with its new surroundings), touched the portkey to the broomstick, and… +So Harry took the next portkey in the sequence from his pouch, as he slowed his broomstick to a halt in the bright-blue air (Harry didn’t know, when he thought about it, whether a portkey’s ability to adjust for the Earth’s rotation also included the ability to match velocity in general with its new surroundings), touched the portkey to the broomstick, and… Harry paused, still holding the twig, the mate of the twig he had snapped what seemed like two weeks ago. He was feeling a sudden reluctance; his brain seemed to have learned the rule, by some purely neural process of operant conditioning, that Snapping Twigs Is A Bad Idea. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-060.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-060.tex index bdf38dc38..4af44337c 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-060.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-060.tex @@ -39,7 +39,7 @@ “I don’t understand,” Harry said, his voice was shaking, he’d read about the classic experiment on the psychology of prisons, the ordinary college students who had turned sadistic as soon as they were assigned the role of prison guards; only now he realized that the experiment hadn’t examined the right question, the one most important question, they hadn’t looked at the key people, not the prison guards but \emph{everyone else,} “I really don’t understand, Professor Quirrell, how can people just stand by and let this happen, \emph{why} is the country of magical Britain \emph{doing this}—” Harry’s voice stopped. -The Defence Professor’s eyes appeared to be the same colour as always, in the pale blue light, for that light was the same colour as Quirinus Quirrell’s irises, those never-thawing chips of ice. “Welcome, Mr~Potter, to your first encounter with the realities of politics. What do the wretched creatures in Azkaban have to offer any faction? Who would benefit from aiding them? A politician who openly sided with them would associate themselves with criminals, with weakness, with distasteful things that people would rather not think about. Alternatively, the politician could demonstrate their might and cruelty by calling for longer sentences; to make a display of strength requires a victim to crush beneath you, after all. And the populace applauds, for it is their instinct to back the winner.” A coldly amused laugh. “You see, Mr~Potter, no one ever quite believes that \emph{they} will go to Azkaban, so they see no harm in it for themselves. As for what they inflict on others…I suppose you were once told that people care about that sort of thing? It is a lie, Mr~Potter, people don’t care in the slightest, and if you had not led a vastly sheltered childhood you would have noticed that long ago. Console yourself with this: those now prisoner in Azkaban voted for the same Ministers of Magic who pledged to move their cells closer to the Dementors. I admit, Mr~Potter, that I see little hope for democracy as an effective form of government, but I admire the poetry of how it makes its victims complicit in their own destruction.” +The Defence Professor’s eyes appeared to be the same colour as always, in the pale blue light, for that light was the same colour as Quirinus Quirrell’s irises, those never-thawing chips of ice. “Welcome, Mr~Potter, to your first encounter with the realities of politics. What do the wretched creatures in Azkaban have to offer any faction? Who would benefit from aiding them? A politician who openly sided with them would associate themselves with criminals, with weakness, with distasteful things that people would rather not think about. Alternatively, the politician could demonstrate their might and cruelty by calling for longer sentences; to make a display of strength requires a victim to crush beneath you, after all. And the populace applauds, for it is their instinct to back the winner.” A coldly amused laugh. “You see, Mr~Potter, no-one ever quite believes that \emph{they} will go to Azkaban, so they see no harm in it for themselves. As for what they inflict on others…I suppose you were once told that people care about that sort of thing? It is a lie, Mr~Potter, people don’t care in the slightest, and if you had not led a vastly sheltered childhood you would have noticed that long ago. Console yourself with this: those now prisoner in Azkaban voted for the same Ministers of Magic who pledged to move their cells closer to the Dementors. I admit, Mr~Potter, that I see little hope for democracy as an effective form of government, but I admire the poetry of how it makes its victims complicit in their own destruction.” Harry’s recently cohered self was threatening to shatter into fragments again, the words falling like hammer strikes on his consciousness, driving him back, step by step, over the precipice where lurked some vast abyss; and he was trying to find something to save himself, some clever retort that would refute the words, but it did not come. @@ -97,7 +97,7 @@ “I see,” said Professor Quirrell. “I suppose that answers—” -“No,” said the boy in a cool, collected voice, “you do not get to frame the conversation that easily, Professor. I went to considerable lengths to protect you and get you out of Azkaban safely, \emph{after} I thought you had tried to kill a police officer. That included facing down twelve Dementors without a Patronus Charm. I wonder, if I had apologized when you demanded it, would you have said thank-you in turn? Or am I correct in thinking that it was my submission you demanded there, and not only my respect?” +“No,” said the boy in a cool, collected voice, “you do not get to frame the conversation that easily, Professor. I went to considerable lengths to protect you and get you out of Azkaban safely, \emph{after} I thought you had tried to kill a police officer. That included facing down twelve Dementors without a Patronus Charm. I wonder, if I had apologized when you demanded it, would you have said ‘thank you’ in turn? Or am I correct in thinking that it was my submission you demanded there, and not only my respect?” There was a pause, and then Professor Quirrell’s voice came in reply, openly icy with danger no longer veiled. “It seems you still cannot bring yourself to lose, Mr~Potter.” @@ -137,7 +137,7 @@ There was a pause at this. Then the boy said, “Professor, I have to ask, when you see something all dark and gloomy, doesn’t it ever occur to you to try and \emph{improve} it somehow? Like, yes, something goes terribly wrong in people’s heads that makes them think it’s great to torture criminals, but that doesn’t mean they’re truly evil inside; and maybe if you taught them the right things, showed them what they were doing wrong, you could change—” -Professor Quirrell laughed, then, and not with the emptiness of before. “Ah, Mr~Potter, sometimes I do forget how very young you are. Sooner you could change the colour of the sky.” Another chuckle, this one colder. “And the reason it is easy for you to forgive such fools and think well of them, Mr~Potter, is that you yourself have not been sorely hurt. You will think less fondly of commonplace idiots after the first time their folly costs you something dear. Such as a hundred Galleons from your own pocket, perhaps, rather than the agonizing deaths of a hundred strangers.” The Defence Professor was smiling thinly. He took a pocket-watch out of his robes, looked at it. “Let us depart now, if there is nothing more to say between us.” +Professor Quirrell laughed, then, and not with the emptiness of before. “Ah, Mr~Potter, sometimes I do forget how very young you are. Sooner you could change the colour of the sky.” Another chuckle, this one colder. “And the reason it is easy for you to forgive such fools and think well of them, Mr~Potter, is that you yourself have not been sorely hurt. You will think less fondly of commonplace idiots after the first time their folly costs you something dear. Such as a hundred Galleons from your own pocket, perhaps, rather than the agonizing deaths of a hundred strangers.” The Defence Professor was smiling thinly. He took a pocket watch out of his robes, looked at it. “Let us depart now, if there is nothing more to say between us.” “You don’t have any questions about the impossible things I did to get us out of Azkaban?” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-061.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-061.tex index 3da1149b6..5b8579f5d 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-061.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-061.tex @@ -82,7 +82,7 @@ Albus was already rising from his chair, even as she tucked away her parchments and dispelled the desk. “Moody’s Patronus is reporting to the me in Azkaban,” Albus said. “His Eye saw nothing; and if the Eye of Vance does not see a thing, then that thing does not exist. Yourself?” -“No one has tried to forcibly take my blood,” Severus said. He gave a quick grimace of a smile. “Except the Defence Professor.” +“No-one has tried to forcibly take my blood,” Severus said. He gave a quick grimace of a smile. “Except the Defence Professor.” “\emph{What?}” said Minerva. @@ -90,7 +90,7 @@ “\emph{St. Mungo’s?}” -“—which said he had probably been overworking himself for weeks before he collapsed, such was his state of exhaustion. Your precious Defence Professor is fine, Minerva, the stunner may have helped him by forcing him to take a few days off. Afterwards I declined the offer of a Floo to Hogwarts, and went back to Diagon Alley and wandered; but no one seems to have wanted Mr~Potter’s blood today.” +“—which said he had probably been overworking himself for weeks before he collapsed, such was his state of exhaustion. Your precious Defence Professor is fine, Minerva, the stunner may have helped him by forcing him to take a few days off. Afterwards I declined the offer of a Floo to Hogwarts, and went back to Diagon Alley and wandered; but no-one seems to have wanted Mr~Potter’s blood today.” “Our Defence Professor is in the best of hands, I am sure,” said Albus. “Greater matters command our attention, Minerva.” @@ -230,7 +230,7 @@ “Mr~Potter thinks he is God,” Severus said without expression, “and Lesath Lestrange fell to his knees before him in a heartfelt cry of prayer.” -Minerva stared at Severus, feeling sick to her stomach. She had studied Muggle religion—it was the most common reason for needing to Memory-Charm the parents of Muggleborns—and she knew enough to understand what Severus had just said. +Minerva stared at Severus, feeling sick to her stomach. She had studied Muggle religion—it was the most common reason for needing to Memory-Charm the parents of Muggle-borns—and she knew enough to understand what Severus had just said. “In any case,” said the Potions Master. “I looked within Mr~Lestrange to see if he knew anything of his mother’s escape. He has heard nothing. But the instant he learns, he will conclude that the person responsible was Harry Potter.” @@ -266,7 +266,7 @@ —and finally said, “Yes, please.” -“We had a lucky break,” said Madam Bones’s voice, “one of the Aurors who witnessed the escape was a Muggleborn, and she told us that the Flying-Fire spell, as we were calling it, might be no spell at all, but a Muggle artefact.” +“We had a lucky break,” said Madam Bones’s voice, “one of the Aurors who witnessed the escape was a Muggle-born, and she told us that the Flying-Fire spell, as we were calling it, might be no spell at all, but a Muggle artefact.” Like a punch in the stomach, that was how it felt, and the sickness in Minerva’s belly redoubled. Anyone who’d watched a Chaos Legion battle knew whose hand that showed… @@ -363,7 +363,7 @@ “And they knew about rockets, too?” Severus said dryly. “I don’t believe the other Death Eaters were so fond of Muggle Studies. It is he.” -“Aye, it is he,” Albus said. “Azkaban has endured impenetrable for ages, only to fall to an ordinary Animagus potion. It is too clever and too impossible, which was ever Voldemort’s signature since the days he was known as Tom Riddle. Anyone who wished to forge that signature must needs be as cunning as Voldemort himself to do so. And there is no one else in the world who would accidentally overestimate my wit, and leave me a message I cannot understand at all.” +“Aye, it is he,” Albus said. “Azkaban has endured impenetrable for ages, only to fall to an ordinary Animagus potion. It is too clever and too impossible, which was ever Voldemort’s signature since the days he was known as Tom Riddle. Anyone who wished to forge that signature must needs be as cunning as Voldemort himself to do so. And there is no-one else in the world who would accidentally overestimate my wit, and leave me a message I cannot understand at all.” “Unless he has gauged you exactly,” Severus said tonelessly, “in which case all that is just what he intended you to think.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-062.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-062.tex index 25e577767..6f77f8ad6 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-062.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-062.tex @@ -2,7 +2,7 @@ \chapter{The Stanford Prison Experiment, Final} \lettrine{M}{inerva} gazed up at the clock, the golden hands and silver numerals, the jerking motion. Muggles had invented that, and until they had, wizards had not bothered keeping time. Bells, timed by a sanded hourglass, had served Hogwarts for its classes when it was built. It was one of the things that blood purists wished not to be true, and therefore Minerva knew it. -She had received an Outstanding on her Muggle Studies N.E.W.T., which now seemed to her a mark of shame, considering how little she knew. Her younger self had realized, even then, that the class was a sham, taught by a pureblood, supposedly because Muggleborns could not appreciate what wizardborns needed to be told, and actually because the Board of Governors did not approve of Muggles at all. But when she was seventeen the Outstanding grade had been the main thing that mattered to her, she was saddened to remember… +She had received an Outstanding on her Muggle Studies N.E.W.T., which now seemed to her a mark of shame, considering how little she knew. Her younger self had realized, even then, that the class was a sham, taught by a pureblood, supposedly because Muggle-borns could not appreciate what wizardborns needed to be told, and actually because the Board of Governors did not approve of Muggles at all. But when she was seventeen the Outstanding grade had been the main thing that mattered to her, she was saddened to remember… \emph{If Harry Potter and Voldemort fight their war with Muggle weapons there will be nothing left of the world but fire!} @@ -80,7 +80,7 @@ \chapter{The Stanford Prison Experiment, Final} Harry took a piece of parchment (not paper) out of his parch, took a Quotes Quill (not pen) out of his pouch, and told the quill, “Write these letters exactly as I say them: Z-P-G-B-S-Y, space, F-V-Y-I-R-E-B-A-G-U-R-G-E-R-R.” -There were two kinds of codes in cryptography, codes that stopped your little brother from reading your message and codes that stopped major governments from reading your message, and this was the first kind of code, but it was better than nothing. In theory, no one should read it anyway; but even if they did, they wouldn’t remember anything interesting unless they did cryptography first. +There were two kinds of codes in cryptography, codes that stopped your little brother from reading your message and codes that stopped major governments from reading your message, and this was the first kind of code, but it was better than nothing. In theory, no-one should read it anyway; but even if they did, they wouldn’t remember anything interesting unless they did cryptography first. Harry then put that parchment in a parchment envelope, and with his wand melted a little green wax to seal it. @@ -172,7 +172,7 @@ \chapter{The Stanford Prison Experiment, Final} And the Harry who knew nothing saw that it was the smart, the wise, the intelligent and sane, the \emph{right} thing to do. -And the Harry who knew nothing said just what an innocent Harry \emph{would} have said, while the silent watcher screamed in confusion and agony. +And the Harry who knew nothing said just what innocent-Harry \emph{would} have said, while the silent watcher screamed in confusion and agony. “You’re saying,” Harry said, his voice shaking as the emotions inside burned through the outer calm, “that I’m not going home to my parents for Easter.” @@ -186,7 +186,7 @@ \chapter{The Stanford Prison Experiment, Final} \emph{This is the cost to yourself,} said Hufflepuff within his mind, \emph{even as you imposed costs on others. Will that change your whole view of the matter, the way Professor Quirrell thinks it will?} -Automatically, the mask of the innocent Harry said exactly what it would have said: “Are my parents in danger? Do \emph{they} need to be moved here?” +Automatically, the mask of innocent-Harry said exactly what it would have said: “Are my parents in danger? Do \emph{they} need to be moved here?” “No,” said the old wizard’s voice. “I do not think so. The Death Eaters learned, toward the end of the war, not to attack the Order’s families. And if Voldemort is now acting without his former companions, he still knows that it is I who make the decisions for now, and he knows that I would give him nothing for any threat to your family. I have taught him that I do not give in to blackmail, and so he will not try.” @@ -210,7 +210,7 @@ \chapter{The Stanford Prison Experiment, Final} He took a step forward. -His hand reached to the door-handle. +His hand reached to the door handle. A piercing cry split the air— @@ -238,7 +238,7 @@ \chapter{The Stanford Prison Experiment, Final} “Can you,” whispered the old wizard, “can you truly hear the voice of the phœnix so clearly?” -Harry was sobbing almost too hard to speak, for all the metal doors he’d passed, the voices he’d heard, the worst memories, the desperate begging as he walked away, all of it had burst into his mind like fire at the phœnix’s scream, all the inner bulwarks smashed. Harry didn’t know whether he could truly hear the voice of the phœnix so clearly, whether he would have understood Fawkes without already knowing. All Harry knew was that he had a plausible excuse to say the things Professor Quirrell had told him he must \emph{never} raise in conversation from this day forth; because this was just what an innocent Harry would have said, would have done, if he \emph{had} heard so clearly. “They’re hurting—we have to help them—” +Harry was sobbing almost too hard to speak, for all the metal doors he’d passed, the voices he’d heard, the worst memories, the desperate begging as he walked away, all of it had burst into his mind like fire at the phœnix’s scream, all the inner bulwarks smashed. Harry didn’t know whether he could truly hear the voice of the phœnix so clearly, whether he would have understood Fawkes without already knowing. All Harry knew was that he had a plausible excuse to say the things Professor Quirrell had told him he must \emph{never} raise in conversation from this day forth; because this was just what innocent-Harry would have said, would have done, if he \emph{had} heard so clearly. “They’re hurting—we have to help them—” “I \emph{can’t!}” cried Albus Dumbledore. “Harry, Fawkes, I \emph{can’t}, there’s nothing I can do!” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-063.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-063.tex index 43d239493..0bb94a601 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-063.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-063.tex @@ -98,7 +98,7 @@ \section{Aftermath, Hermione Granger:} The noise dimmed a little as people caught sight of Draco, as some of the faces turned to stare at him, and fell quiet. -The food appeared on the tables. No one looked at it. +The food appeared on the tables. No-one looked at it. And Snape spun on his heel, abandoning his target, and headed straight toward Draco. @@ -130,7 +130,7 @@ \section{Aftermath, Hermione Granger:} Bellatrix Black had been taken from Azkaban…? -Draco didn’t know what to make of that, it was as totally unexpected as the Sun going out—well, the Sun would expectedly go out in six billion years but this was as unexpected as the Sun going out \emph{tomorrow}. Father wouldn’t have done it, Dumbledore wouldn’t have done it, \emph{no one} should have been \emph{able} to do it—what did it \emph{mean}—what \emph{use} would Bellatrix be to anyone after ten years in Azkaban—even if she got strong again, what use was a powerful sorceress who was completely evil and insane and fanatically devoted to a Dark Lord who wasn’t around any more? +Draco didn’t know what to make of that, it was as totally unexpected as the Sun going out—well, the Sun would expectedly go out in six billion years but this was as unexpected as the Sun going out \emph{tomorrow}. Father wouldn’t have done it, Dumbledore wouldn’t have done it, \emph{no-one} should have been \emph{able} to do it—what did it \emph{mean}—what \emph{use} would Bellatrix be to anyone after ten years in Azkaban—even if she got strong again, what use was a powerful sorceress who was completely evil and insane and fanatically devoted to a Dark Lord who wasn’t around any more? “Hey,” said Vincent from where he was sitting next to Draco, “I don’t understand, boss, why’d we do that?” @@ -256,7 +256,7 @@ \section{Aftermath, Hermione Granger:} Every now and then someone would shout when they heard the news, but Harry’s ears \emph{recognized} this one— -Harry was up from the bench in an instant, heading toward the Hufflepuff table, a horrible sick feeling dawning in the pit of his stomach. It was one of those things he hadn’t considered when he’d decided to commit the crime, because Professor Quirrell had planned for no one to know; and now, afterwards, Harry just—hadn’t \emph{thought} of it— +Harry was up from the bench in an instant, heading toward the Hufflepuff table, a horrible sick feeling dawning in the pit of his stomach. It was one of those things he hadn’t considered when he’d decided to commit the crime, because Professor Quirrell had planned for no-one to know; and now, afterwards, Harry just—hadn’t \emph{thought} of it— \emph{This,} Hufflepuff said with bitter intensity, \emph{is also your fault.} @@ -298,7 +298,7 @@ \section{Aftermath, Hermione Granger:} Harry stared at the envelope for a moment, then started walking toward the nearest wall. That wasn’t very private, but it should be private enough, and Harry didn’t want to give the impression of having much to hide. -That had been a Slytherin System delivery, what you used if you wanted to communicate with someone without anyone else knowing that the two of you had talked. The sender gave an envelope to someone who had a reputation for being a reliable messenger, along with ten Knuts; that first person would take five Knuts and pass the envelope to another messenger along with the other five Knuts, and the second messenger would open up that envelope and find another envelope with a name written on it and deliver that envelope to that person. That way neither of the two people passing the message knew both the sender \emph{and} the recipient, so no one else knew that those two parties had been in contact… +That had been a Slytherin System delivery, what you used if you wanted to communicate with someone without anyone else knowing that the two of you had talked. The sender gave an envelope to someone who had a reputation for being a reliable messenger, along with ten Knuts; that first person would take five Knuts and pass the envelope to another messenger along with the other five Knuts, and the second messenger would open up that envelope and find another envelope with a name written on it and deliver that envelope to that person. That way neither of the two people passing the message knew both the sender \emph{and} the recipient, so no-one else knew that those two parties had been in contact… When Harry reached the wall, he put the envelope inside his robes, opened it beneath the folds of cloth, and carefully sneaked a peek at the parchment he drew forth. @@ -336,7 +336,7 @@ \section{Aftermath, Hermione Granger:} Lesath Lestrange said, in a breaking voice, “My life is yours, my Lord, and my death as well.” -“I,” Harry said, there was a huge lump in his throat and he was having trouble speaking, “I—” \emph{didn’t have anything to do with it,} he should have been saying, should be saying \emph{right now,} but then again the innocent Harry would have had trouble speaking too— +“I,” Harry said, there was a huge lump in his throat and he was having trouble speaking, “I—” \emph{didn’t have anything to do with it,} he should have been saying, should be saying \emph{right now,} but then again innocent-Harry would have had trouble speaking too— “Thank you,” whispered Lesath, “thank you, my Lord, oh, thank you,” the sound of a choked-off sob came from the kneeling boy, all Harry could see of him was the hair on the back of his head, nothing of his face. “I’m a fool, my Lord, an ungrateful bastard, unworthy to serve you, I cannot abase myself enough, for I—I shouted at you after you helped me, because I thought you were refusing me, and I didn’t even realize until this morning that I’d been such a fool as to ask you in front of Longbottom—” @@ -378,7 +378,7 @@ \section{Aftermath, Hermione Granger:} “Then his life isn’t in danger, I take it,” said Amelia. -The healer, a stern-eyed old man who wore his robes white (he was a Muggleborn and honouring some strange tradition of Muggles, of which Amelia had never asked, although privately she thought it made him look too much like a ghost), shook his head and said, “Definitely not.” +The healer, a stern-eyed old man who wore his robes white (he was a Muggle-born and honouring some strange tradition of Muggles, of which Amelia had never asked, although privately she thought it made him look too much like a ghost), shook his head and said, “Definitely not.” Amelia looked at the human form resting unconscious on the healer’s bed, the burned and blasted flesh, the thin sheet that covered him for modesty’s sake having been peeled back at her command. @@ -472,7 +472,7 @@ \section{Aftermath, Hermione Granger:} “Yes, Headmaster!” They said it without even thinking, really, and then exchanged uncertain looks with each other— -The bright blue eyes of the Headmaster were intent upon them. “No. Not without thinking. If Harry asks you to bring him out, you must refuse, if he asks you to tell him the way, you must refuse. I will not ask you to report him to me, for that I know you would never do. But beg him on my behalf to go to \emph{me,} if it is of such importance, and \emph{I} will guard him as he walks. Fred, George, I am sorry to strain your friendship so, but it is his \emph{life.}” +The bright-blue eyes of the Headmaster were intent upon them. “No. Not without thinking. If Harry asks you to bring him out, you must refuse, if he asks you to tell him the way, you must refuse. I will not ask you to report him to me, for that I know you would never do. But beg him on my behalf to go to \emph{me,} if it is of such importance, and \emph{I} will guard him as he walks. Fred, George, I am sorry to strain your friendship so, but it is his \emph{life.}” The two of them looked at each other for a long while, not communicating, only thinking the same things at the same time. @@ -524,7 +524,7 @@ \section{Aftermath, Hermione Granger:} “Who else knows about this trap?” Moody demanded. -“You. Me. The Headmaster. No one else.” +“You. Me. The Headmaster. No-one else.” Moody snorted. “Pfah. Did Albus tell Amelia, Bartemius, and that McGonagall woman about the resurrection ritual?” @@ -588,7 +588,7 @@ \section{Aftermath, Hermione Granger:} “We poisoned all the other graves as well, with long-lasting substances,” remarked the former Death Eater. “It \emph{is} possible that we are in the correct graveyard. He may not have planned this far ahead back when he was slaughtering his family, and he cannot move the grave itself—” -“The true location doesn’t look like a graveyard any more,” Moody said flatly. “He moved all the \emph{other} graves here and Memory-Charmed the Muggles. Not even Bellatrix Black would be told anything about that until just before the ritual started. \emph{No one} knows the true location now except him.” +“The true location doesn’t look like a graveyard any more,” Moody said flatly. “He moved all the \emph{other} graves here and Memory-Charmed the Muggles. Not even Bellatrix Black would be told anything about that until just before the ritual started. \emph{No-one} knows the true location now except him.” They continued their futile work. @@ -719,17 +719,17 @@ \section{Aftermath, Hermione Granger:} \emph{Really?} inquired the part of Harry that had read eighteen million experimental results about people being too optimistic and overconfident. \emph{Professor Quirrell is too pessimistic? So pessimistic that his expectations routinely \emph{undershoot} reality? Stuff him and put him in a museum, he’s unique. Which one of you two planned the perfect crime, and \emph{then} put in all the error margin and fallbacks that ended up saving your butt, \emph{just in case} the perfect crime went wrong? Hint hint, his name wasn’t Harry Potter.} -But “pessimistic” wasn’t the correct word to describe Professor Quirrell’s problem—if a problem it truly was, and not the superior wisdom of experience. But to Harry it looked like Professor Quirrell was constantly interpreting everything in the worst possible light. If you handed Professor Quirrell a glass that was 90\% full, he’d tell you that the 10\% empty part proved that no one \emph{really} cared about water. +But “pessimistic” wasn’t the correct word to describe Professor Quirrell’s problem—if a problem it truly was, and not the superior wisdom of experience. But to Harry it looked like Professor Quirrell was constantly interpreting everything in the worst possible light. If you handed Professor Quirrell a glass that was 90\% full, he’d tell you that the 10\% empty part proved that no-one \emph{really} cared about water. That was a very good analogy, now that Harry thought about it. Not all of magical Britain was like Azkaban, that glass was well over half full… -Harry stared up at the bright blue sky. +Harry stared up at the bright-blue sky. …although, \emph{following} the analogy, if Azkaban existed, then maybe it \emph{did} prove that the 90\% good part was there for other reasons, people trying to \emph{make a show of kindness} as Professor Quirrell had put it. For if they were truly kind they would not have made Azkaban, they would storm the fortress to tear it down…wouldn’t they? -Harry stared up at the bright blue sky. If you wanted to be a rationalist you had to read an awful lot of papers on flaws in human nature, and some of those flaws were innocent logical failures, and some of them looked a lot darker. +Harry stared up at the bright-blue sky. If you wanted to be a rationalist you had to read an awful lot of papers on flaws in human nature, and some of those flaws were innocent logical failures, and some of them looked a lot darker. -Harry stared up at the bright blue sky, and thought of the Milgram experiment. +Harry stared up at the bright-blue sky, and thought of the Milgram experiment. Stanley Milgram had done it to investigate the causes of World War~II, to try to understand why the citizens of Germany had obeyed Hitler. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-064.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-064.tex index 3e1af2f30..a8b08cea4 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-064.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-064.tex @@ -86,7 +86,7 @@ \chapter{Omake Files IV, Alternate Parallels} % The Witch and the Wardrobe \OmakeIVspecialsection[5]{\fontspec[ExternalLocation]{NarniaBLL}456} -With a critical eye, Peter looked over the encamped Centaurs with their bows, Beavers with their long daggers, and talking Bears with their chain-mail draped over them. He was in charge, because he was one of the mythical Sons of Adam and had declared himself High King of Narnia; but the truth was he didn’t really know much about encampments, weapons, and guard patrols. In the end all he could see was that they all looked proud and confident, and Peter had to hope they were right about that; because if you couldn’t believe in your own people, you couldn’t believe in anyone. +With a critical eye, Peter looked over the encamped Centaurs with their bows, Beavers with their long daggers, and talking Bears with their chain mail draped over them. He was in charge, because he was one of the mythical Sons of Adam and had declared himself High King of Narnia; but the truth was he didn’t really know much about encampments, weapons, and guard patrols. In the end all he could see was that they all looked proud and confident, and Peter had to hope they were right about that; because if you couldn’t believe in your own people, you couldn’t believe in anyone. “They’d scare \emph{me}, if I had to fight ’em,” Peter said finally, “but I don’t know if it’s enough to beat…\emph{her.}” @@ -348,7 +348,7 @@ \chapter{Omake Files IV, Alternate Parallels} Hot days often made her feel sleepy and stupid, so Alice had thoughtfully wet a handkerchief and placed it at the back of her neck. Still her mind had gone off wandering (just as if it was some little kitten whose owner had taken their eyes off it for just a moment), and she had just decided that the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth around 4/3 of the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, which was nonetheless not equal to the opportunity cost of putting down her book, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her. -There was nothing so \emph{very} remarkable in that; nor, in fact, did Alice think it so \emph{very} much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!” But when the Rabbit actually \emph{took a watch out of its waistcoat pocket,} and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice froze in sudden clarity and fear, for she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it. “Oh bother,” she said to herself (though not aloud; she had long since cured herself of that habit, as it made people take her even less seriously than they already did). “If I did not immediately recognize how much curiouser that was than the average rabbit, then something is interfering with my curiosity, and that is most curious of all.” So, burning with questions, she ran across the field after it, and was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge. +There was nothing so \emph{very} remarkable in that; nor, in fact, did Alice think it so \emph{very} much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!” But when the Rabbit actually \emph{took a watch out of its waistcoat pocket,} and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice froze in sudden clarity and fear, for she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat pocket, or a watch to take out of it. “Oh bother,” she said to herself (though not aloud; she had long since cured herself of that habit, as it made people take her even less seriously than they already did). “If I did not immediately recognize how much curiouser that was than the average rabbit, then something is interfering with my curiosity, and that is most curious of all.” So, burning with questions, she ran across the field after it, and was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge. \OmakeIVsection{Welcome to the Real World} diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-066.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-066.tex index 9b652be49..45abc7f6b 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-066.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-066.tex @@ -47,7 +47,7 @@ The pits of the snake’s eyes seemed almost black. “\parsel{Easy to say that now. Such as you and I, we do not tolerate imprisonment. You will lose patience long before seventh year, perhaps before end of this one. I shall plan accordingly.}” -And before Harry could hiss another word of Parseltongue, the human-shape of Professor Quirrell was sitting in his chair once more. “So, Mr~Potter,” said the Defence Professor, his voice as calm as if they had been discussing nothing important, as if the whole conversation had not occurred at all, “I hear that you have begun to practise duelling. Not the worthless sort with \emph{rules}, I hope?” +And before Harry could hiss another word of Parseltongue, the human shape of Professor Quirrell was sitting in his chair once more. “So, Mr~Potter,” said the Defence Professor, his voice as calm as if they had been discussing nothing important, as if the whole conversation had not occurred at all, “I hear that you have begun to practise duelling. Not the worthless sort with \emph{rules}, I hope?” \later diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-067.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-067.tex index 92c8fce26..383c3a013 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-067.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-067.tex @@ -128,7 +128,7 @@ \later -For a few seconds, no one did anything but stare at Neville and Daphne as they started whacking at each other. They were both moving slowly, and Hermione guessed that the spell was taking a lot of strength out of them. It wasn’t very impressive by comparison, if you were a Muggleborn and you’d watched certain films. +For a few seconds, no-one did anything but stare at Neville and Daphne as they started whacking at each other. They were both moving slowly, and Hermione guessed that the spell was taking a lot of strength out of them. It wasn’t very impressive by comparison, if you were a Muggle-born and you’d watched certain films. But you still had to give them extra credit for using lightsabers at all. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-068.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-068.tex index ac6e7fd80..2326bfe6c 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-068.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-068.tex @@ -62,7 +62,7 @@ That boy just kept on coming, and ran around her and put himself in front of her, because he was stupid that was why, and Harry said, his voice now a high and desperate whisper, “I didn’t run away when \emph{you} were beating \emph{me} in all my classes except broomstick riding!” -He didn’t understand, and he would never understand, Harry Potter would never understand, because no matter what contest he lost he would still be the Boy-Who-Lived, if you were Harry Potter and Hermione Granger was beating you then it meant everyone was expecting you to rise to the challenge, if you were Hermione Granger and Harry Potter was beating you that meant you were just no one. +He didn’t understand, and he would never understand, Harry Potter would never understand, because no matter what contest he lost he would still be the Boy-Who-Lived, if you were Harry Potter and Hermione Granger was beating you then it meant everyone was expecting you to rise to the challenge, if you were Hermione Granger and Harry Potter was beating you that meant you were just no-one. “It’s not fair,” she said, her voice was shaking but she wasn’t crying yet, not yet, “\emph{I} shouldn’t have to fight your dark side, I’m just—I’m only—” \emph{I’m only twelve,} that was what she thought then. @@ -76,7 +76,7 @@ “Is Professor Quirrell right?” came a high desperate whisper from behind her. “If I have you for a friend, will I always be afraid to do better because I know it will hurt your feelings? That’s not fair, Hermione!” -She took a breath and held it and ran, her feet pattering across the stone as fast as they could, running as fast as she dared with her vision all blurry, ran so that no one would hear her, and this time Harry didn’t follow. +She took a breath and held it and ran, her feet pattering across the stone as fast as they could, running as fast as she dared with her vision all blurry, ran so that no-one would hear her, and this time Harry didn’t follow. \later @@ -140,13 +140,13 @@ “I—” said Hermione. “I’m not sure—I still want to be—” Her voice stopped, it seemed too awful to say aloud. -Dumbledore closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he looked a little older than before. “No one can stop you, Miss~Granger, if you choose to stop being Harry’s friend. As for what it would do to him, you may know that better than I.” +Dumbledore closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he looked a little older than before. “No-one can stop you, Miss~Granger, if you choose to stop being Harry’s friend. As for what it would do to him, you may know that better than I.” -“That—doesn’t seem \emph{fair,}” Hermione said, her voice trembling. “That I’ve \emph{got} to be Harry’s friend because he’s got no one else? That doesn’t seem fair.” +“That—doesn’t seem \emph{fair,}” Hermione said, her voice trembling. “That I’ve \emph{got} to be Harry’s friend because he’s got no-one else? That doesn’t seem fair.” “\emph{Being} a friend is not something you can be forced to, Miss~Granger.” The blue eyes seemed to look right through her. “The feelings are there, or they are not. If they are there, you can accept them or deny them. You \emph{are} Harry’s friend—and choosing to deny it would wound him terribly, perhaps beyond healing. But Miss~Granger, what would drive you to such extremes?” -She couldn’t find words. She’d never been able to find words. “If you get too near Harry—you get \emph{swallowed up,} and no one sees \emph{you} any more, you’re just something of \emph{his,} everyone thinks the whole world revolves around him and…” She didn’t have the words. +She couldn’t find words. She’d never been able to find words. “If you get too near Harry—you get \emph{swallowed up,} and no-one sees \emph{you} any more, you’re just something of \emph{his,} everyone thinks the whole world revolves around him and…” She didn’t have the words. The old wizard nodded slowly. “It is indeed an unjust world we live in, Miss~Granger. All the world now knows that it is I who defeated Grindelwald, and fewer remember Elizabeth Beckett who died opening the way so I could pass through. And yet she is remembered. Harry Potter \emph{is} the hero of this play, Miss~Granger; the world \emph{does} revolve around him. He is destined for great things; and I ween that in time the name of Albus Dumbledore will be remembered as Harry Potter’s mysterious old wizard, more than for anything else I have done. And perhaps the name of Hermione Granger will be remembered as his companion, if you prove worthy of it in your day. For this I tell you true: never will you find more glory on your own, than in Harry Potter’s company.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-069.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-069.tex index 8a6722561..d9d585e3e 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-069.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-069.tex @@ -76,7 +76,7 @@ She turned to look at the bullies. -They were very big and they looked, she thought, around fifteen years old, and she was suddenly realizing just how \emph{large} a difference had sprung up between Hogwarts students who’d signed up for all of Professor Quirrell’s extra-curricular activities, and students who’d had years of being taught by the worst Professors ever to go Professing. Being able to \emph{hit} things that you aimed at, for example; or being able to think well enough in the middle of a fight to realize that you ought to \emph{Innervate} your fallen allies. And other things Professor Quirrell had said, like that in the real world almost any fight would be settled by a surprise attack, suddenly made a lot more sense to her. +They were very big and they looked, she thought, around fifteen years old, and she was suddenly realizing just how \emph{large} a difference had sprung up between Hogwarts students who’d signed up for all of Professor Quirrell’s extracurricular activities, and students who’d had years of being taught by the worst Professors ever to go Professing. Being able to \emph{hit} things that you aimed at, for example; or being able to think well enough in the middle of a fight to realize that you ought to \emph{Innervate} your fallen allies. And other things Professor Quirrell had said, like that in the real world almost any fight would be settled by a surprise attack, suddenly made a lot more sense to her. Still trying to catch her breath, she looked back at Mike. @@ -212,7 +212,7 @@ “How dare you insult the honour of the Sparkly Unicorn Princess!” shouted Tracey. “Let’s see what you got!” Then Tracey lay down flat on her sofa and started snoring loudly. -Daphne’s sparkling head sank further into her glowing hands. “After my family takes over I’m going to have you all put under anti-Apparition jinxes and Flooed into the sea,” she said to no one in particular. “You’re all okay with that, right?” +Daphne’s sparkling head sank further into her glowing hands. “After my family takes over I’m going to have you all put under anti-Apparition jinxes and Flooed into the sea,” she said to no-one in particular. “You’re all okay with that, right?” \emph{Thunk-thunk, thunk-thunk-thunk, thunk.} diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-070.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-070.tex index 5aba85a5d..bb42be565 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-070.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-070.tex @@ -52,7 +52,7 @@ “Indeed,” said Professor Sinistra. (The Astronomy Professor’s hair was still dark, and her dark face only slightly lined; Hermione \emph{would} have guessed her age at around seventy, except—) “I quite remember my mother’s rejoicing when they announced the Qualification of Women Act, although she did not actually qualify.” (Which meant that Professor Sinistra had been around her Muggle family in 1918.) “And that wasn’t the worst of it. Why, just a few centuries earlier—” -Thirty seconds later all the non-Muggleborns, male and female both, were staring at Professor Sinistra with utterly shocked expressions. Hannah had dropped her sign. +Thirty seconds later all the non-Muggle-borns, male and female both, were staring at Professor Sinistra with utterly shocked expressions. Hannah had dropped her sign. “And \emph{that} wasn’t the worst of it either, not by half,” finished Professor Sinistra. “But you see where this sort of thing could potentially lead.” @@ -78,7 +78,7 @@ There was a bit of silence, for a time. Hermione put up her sign again—it had slipped down to her shoulder while she was listening. She’d never thought of that, not even a little, and now she was trying \emph{not} to think of it, and her stomach was feeling a bit queasy. She looked in Harry Potter’s direction, not quite knowing why she did; and she saw that Harry’s face was perfectly still. A chill ran down her spine before she looked away, not quite fast enough to miss the small nod that Harry gave her, as though they were agreeing on something. -“To be fair,” Professor Sinistra said after a while, “since I received my Hogwarts letter I can’t recall encountering any prejudice on account of being a woman, or coloured. No, now it is all for being a Muggleborn. I believe Miss~Granger said that it was \emph{just} with heroes that she found a problem, so far?” +“To be fair,” Professor Sinistra said after a while, “since I received my Hogwarts letter I can’t recall encountering any prejudice on account of being a woman, or coloured. No, now it is all for being a Muggle-born. I believe Miss~Granger said that it was \emph{just} with heroes that she found a problem, so far?” It took Hermione a moment to recognize that she’d been asked the question, and then she said “Yes,” in a tone that squeaked a little. This whole thing had blown up a bit larger than she’d imagined when she’d started it. @@ -164,7 +164,7 @@ The gargoyles were stepping aside, the Flowing Stone rumbling like rock as it moved like flesh. The huge ugly figures waited only briefly, dead grey eyes staring out in silent vigil. Then the great gargoyles folded their wings back into place and stepped back into their former positions, the Flowing Stone not changing its outward appearance at all as it returned from flexibility to motionlessness, and the brief gap in the stone of Hogwarts was solid once more. -And before them all, wearing robes of bright purple that probably only looked hideous if you were Muggleborn, stood the towering form of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, the vanquisher of the Dark Lord Grindelwald and protector of Britain, the rediscoverer of the fabled Twelve Uses of Dragon’s Blood, the most powerful wizard alive; and he was looking at \emph{her,} Hermione Jean Granger, General of the recently expanded Sunshine Regiment, who was getting the best grades in the first year of Hogwarts classes, and who had declared herself a heroine. +And before them all, wearing robes of bright purple that probably only looked hideous if you were Muggle-born, stood the towering form of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, the vanquisher of the Dark Lord Grindelwald and protector of Britain, the rediscoverer of the fabled Twelve Uses of Dragon’s Blood, the most powerful wizard alive; and he was looking at \emph{her,} Hermione Jean Granger, General of the recently expanded Sunshine Regiment, who was getting the best grades in the first year of Hogwarts classes, and who had declared herself a heroine. Even her \emph{name} was shorter than his. @@ -222,7 +222,7 @@ “I—” said Susan. “I mean—I—” -The Headmaster leaned down until he was face-to-face with the young girl. +The Headmaster leaned down until he was face to face with the young girl. “I didn’t—” said Susan. @@ -235,7 +235,7 @@ The huge ugly figures waited briefly with dead grey eyes staring out in silent vigil, as Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, smiling as benevolently as when he’d first emerged from his office, stepped back into the Enchantment of the Endless Stair. -Then the great gargoyles folded their wings back into place and stepped back into their former positions, only one last brief “Bwa-ha-ha!” echoing out before the gap closed. +Then the great gargoyles folded their wings back into place and stepped back into their former positions, only one last brief “Bwa ha ha!” echoing out before the gap closed. There was a long silence. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-071.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-071.tex index 0e89b090d..12d4c685b 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-071.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-071.tex @@ -6,7 +6,7 @@ “I don’t think that’s what she means,” General Granger murmured from Lavender’s own left. -They crept slowly and carefully through the corridors of Hogwarts, all eight of them keeping both ears peeled for the slightest sound of Trouble, just like it was a battle and they were looking for enemy soldiers to ambush; only in this case they were looking for bullies to Vanquish and victims to Rescue in the span between the end of breakfast-time and when Lavender and Parvati had to get to their Herbology class. +They crept slowly and carefully through the corridors of Hogwarts, all eight of them keeping both ears peeled for the slightest sound of Trouble, just like it was a battle and they were looking for enemy soldiers to ambush; only in this case they were looking for bullies to Vanquish and victims to Rescue in the span between the end of breakfast time and when Lavender and Parvati had to get to their Herbology class. Lavender had argued that if one first-year girl could take down three older bullies, then eight first-year girls ought to be able to outfight twenty-four older bullies because of Multiplication. @@ -260,7 +260,7 @@ They went off toward the stairs that led downward, the private rooms were even lower in the lake than the seventh-year dorms… -Soon enough Daphne was sitting in her comfy desk-chair and Millicent had bounced over to the edge of her bed. +Soon enough Daphne was sitting in her comfy desk chair and Millicent had bounced over to the edge of her bed. “\emph{Quietus,}” said Daphne, when they were both seated; and then instead of putting her wand away inside her robes, Daphne just let her hand fall naturally down to her side, still holding the wand, just in case. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-072.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-072.tex index 6d050169d..c4d7a34d1 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-072.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-072.tex @@ -236,7 +236,7 @@ “\emph{Silencio},” said the bully in a soft, deliberate voice with his wand pointed toward the corridor, the blue haze of his Shielding Charm shimmering around him. “\emph{Accio} victim.” -When the fourth-year boy came into their field of vision he was dangling upside down as if an invisible hand were holding him high by one leg, his red-trimmed robes beginning to slide down his thighs to reveal the trousers beneath. His mouth was opening and closing helplessly, no sound coming out. +When the fourth-year boy came into their field of vision he was dangling upside-down as if an invisible hand were holding him high by one leg, his red-trimmed robes beginning to slide down his thighs to reveal the trousers beneath. His mouth was opening and closing helplessly, no sound coming out. “I suppose you’re wondering what’s going on,” the seventh-year Slytherin said in a quiet, cold voice. “Don’t worry. It’s so simple even a Gryffindor could understand.” @@ -474,7 +474,7 @@ And listened to what her Sunshine Soldier had to say… -“Don’t you \emph{understand?}” Daphne’s voice was barely below a shriek. “Just because someone’s nice to you doesn’t mean they’re your friend! He’s \emph{Draco Malfoy!} His father’s a Death Eater, all the parents of all his friends are Death Eaters—Nott, Goyle, Crabbe, \emph{everyone around him}, do you get it? They \emph{all} despise Muggleborns, they want everyone like you to \emph{die}, they think you’re good for nothing but being a \emph{sacrifice} in horrible Dark rituals! Draco is \emph{the next Lord Malfoy}, he’s been raised from birth to hate you and he’s been raised from birth to \emph{lie!}” Daphne’s grey-green eyes stared fiercely at her, demanding assent and understanding. +“Don’t you \emph{understand?}” Daphne’s voice was barely below a shriek. “Just because someone’s nice to you doesn’t mean they’re your friend! He’s \emph{Draco Malfoy!} His father’s a Death Eater, all the parents of all his friends are Death Eaters—Nott, Goyle, Crabbe, \emph{everyone around him}, do you get it? They \emph{all} despise Muggle-borns, they want everyone like you to \emph{die}, they think you’re good for nothing but being a \emph{sacrifice} in horrible Dark rituals! Draco is \emph{the next Lord Malfoy}, he’s been raised from birth to hate you and he’s been raised from birth to \emph{lie!}” Daphne’s grey-green eyes stared fiercely at her, demanding assent and understanding. “He—” Hermione said falteringly. She remembered the rooftop, the awful jolt as she started to fall, Draco Malfoy’s hand grabbing hers and holding it so hard that she’d had bruises afterwards. She’d had to tell him twice before he finally let her fall. “Maybe Draco Malfoy isn’t like them—” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-073.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-073.tex index d94cad7b3..f08a22903 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-073.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-073.tex @@ -8,7 +8,7 @@ Then there was sleeping, of course. You wouldn’t want to forget about sleeping just because it seemed so normal. -\emph{“Innervate!” said the young voice of Susan Bones, and Hermione’s eyes flew open and her lips drew in air with a gasp, her lungs feeling heavy like there was a huge weight resting on her chest. Beside her, Hannah was already sitting up, holding her head in her hands and grimacing. Daphne had warned them that this would be a ‘hard’ fight, creating a certain trepidation in Hermione, and indeed in all of them. Except maybe Susan, who’d just shown up at the appointed meeting-time, and walked alongside them without speaking, and fought the seventh-year bully until she was the last girl standing. Maybe the Gryffindor had been reluctant to fight the last daughter of Bones, or maybe Susan had just been very lucky; at any rate, when Hermione had tried to sit up again, she’d realized that her chest had felt heavy because there was, in fact, a rather large body sprawled on top of her.} +\emph{“Innervate!” said the young voice of Susan Bones, and Hermione’s eyes flew open and her lips drew in air with a gasp, her lungs feeling heavy like there was a huge weight resting on her chest. Beside her, Hannah was already sitting up, holding her head in her hands and grimacing. Daphne had warned them that this would be a ‘hard’ fight, creating a certain trepidation in Hermione, and indeed in all of them. Except maybe Susan, who’d just shown up at the appointed meeting time, and walked alongside them without speaking, and fought the seventh-year bully until she was the last girl standing. Maybe the Gryffindor had been reluctant to fight the last daughter of Bones, or maybe Susan had just been very lucky; at any rate, when Hermione had tried to sit up again, she’d realized that her chest had felt heavy because there was, in fact, a rather large body sprawled on top of her.} And you wouldn’t want to forget about magic either, even if the actual moment of casting a spell only formed a very small part of your day. It was the whole point of Hogwarts, after all. @@ -222,7 +222,7 @@ The girl-bully tried to cry a truce, that they would leave and take Jugson with them, and Susan roared out the syllables of a curse Hermione recognized as Abi-Dalzim’s Horrid Wilting which was illegal in seven countries. -Eventually the girl-bully lay unconscious and comatose on the ground, and the last boy-bully had fled leaving his companions’ bodies behind, and Susan was leaned over against one wall, covered in sweat and her scorched robes soaked through with wet spots, gasping for breath, and clutching at her right shoulder using her left hand. +Eventually the girl-bully lay unconscious and comatose on the ground, and the last boy bully had fled leaving his companions’ bodies behind, and Susan was leaned over against one wall, covered in sweat and her scorched robes soaked through with wet spots, gasping for breath, and clutching at her right shoulder using her left hand. After a while Susan straightened up, and turned to look back at where her fellow witches were sleeping on the floor. @@ -286,7 +286,7 @@ “A \emph{double} witch!” said Tracey. -“You see,” said Lavender, speaking very rapidly, “There’ve always been stories, about these children who are born as super magicians who can cast spells no one else can, and there’s a whole secret school hidden inside Hogwarts with classes that only they can see and go to—” +“You see,” said Lavender, speaking very rapidly, “There’ve always been stories, about these children who are born as super magicians who can cast spells no-one else can, and there’s a whole secret school hidden inside Hogwarts with classes that only they can see and go to—” “Those are just \emph{stories!}” yelled Parvati. “That’s not how real life works! I mean, sure, I read those books too—” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-074.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-074.tex index d46ee35ff..a6ac33268 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-074.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-074.tex @@ -262,7 +262,7 @@ “Fire at her on my count!” shouted the leading voice. “One, two\emph{, three!}” and maybe-forty voices roared spells, creating a huge concentric array of fiery bolts that lit the wide corridor brighter than the Sun— -—for the short moment before the bolts struck and vanished upon a dark red octagon that appeared in the air around the girls, and then disappeared a moment later. +—for the short moment before the bolts struck and vanished upon a dark-red octagon that appeared in the air around the girls, and then disappeared a moment later. Hermione saw it, she saw it but she still couldn’t imagine it; she couldn’t imagine a Shielding Charm that powerful, a spell that would withstand an army. @@ -346,7 +346,7 @@ “Awesome?” offered Harry. -“\emph{Utterly and completely out of hand} would say it better,” said Dumbledore. “I am not sure there has ever been a time in the whole history of this school when things have become so, so…I don’t have a word for this, Harry, because things have never been like this before, and so no one has ever needed to invent a word for it.” +“\emph{Utterly and completely out of hand} would say it better,” said Dumbledore. “I am not sure there has ever been a time in the whole history of this school when things have become so, so…I don’t have a word for this, Harry, because things have never been like this before, and so no-one has ever needed to invent a word for it.” Harry would have tried to invent words to express how deeply complimented he felt, if he hadn’t been snorting with laughter too hard to speak. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-075.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-075.tex index a230c6b43..ed8bb38f1 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-075.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-075.tex @@ -50,7 +50,7 @@ “What does she \emph{want} from me?” came the plaintive cry of a boy who, for all his extensive reading in the scientific literature, was still a bit naive about certain things. “Did she \emph{want} to get beaten up?” -The upper-year Ravenclaw boys who’d sat down next to him at the dinner-table exchanged swift glances with each other. Chosen by some unspoken protocol, the most experienced of their number spoke. +The upper-year Ravenclaw boys who’d sat down next to him at the dinner table exchanged swift glances with each other. Chosen by some unspoken protocol, the most experienced of their number spoke. “Look,” said Arty Grey, the seventh-year who was leading in their competition by three witches and a Defence Professor, “the thing you’ve got to understand is, just because she’s \emph{angry} doesn’t mean you lost points. Miss~Granger is angry because she got all frightened and you’re \emph{there to be blamed,} you understand? But at the same time, even though she won’t admit it, she’ll be touched that her boyfriend went to such ridiculous and frankly insane lengths to protect her.” @@ -100,7 +100,7 @@ \latersection{(Later.)} -“I don’t understand why you’re being so \emph{unreasonable},” said another second-year witch, who’d replaced the third-year-girl after Hermione had threatened to ask Tracey to eat her soul. “I mean, really, if someone like Harry Potter rescued \emph{me}, I’d be—sending him thank-you cards, and hugging him, and,” the girl’s face was a bit red, “well, kissing him, I’d hope.” +“I don’t understand why you’re being so \emph{unreasonable},” said another second-year witch, who’d replaced the third-year girl after Hermione had threatened to ask Tracey to eat her soul. “I mean, really, if someone like Harry Potter rescued \emph{me}, I’d be—sending him thank-you cards, and hugging him, and,” the girl’s face was a bit red, “well, kissing him, I’d hope.” “Yeah!” said the other second-year witch. “I’ve never understood why girls in plays get \emph{angry} when the main character goes out of his way to be nice to them. \emph{I} wouldn’t act like that if the hero liked \emph{me.}” @@ -258,7 +258,7 @@ \later -It was the end of breakfast-time on the next morning. +It was the end of breakfast time on the next morning. The students from every year sat very still in their benches, all heads turned in the same direction, toward the Head Table, before which one lone first-year girl stood rigid and motionless, her head tilted back to stare up at the Head of House Slytherin. @@ -272,7 +272,7 @@ It broke further when Professor Snape gave her two weeks detention for the crime of violence in school, sneering with the contemptuous face he’d shown them all on the first day of Potions, and with a little twist in the corner of his smile that said the Potions Master knew exactly how unfair he was being. -Whatever-it-was inside her cracked all the way through, from top to bottom, when Professor Snape took one hundred points from Ravenclaw. +Whatever it was inside her cracked all the way through, from top to bottom, when Professor Snape took one hundred points from Ravenclaw. It ended, then, and Snape told her she was dismissed. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-076.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-076.tex index 8a372f501..94c04eb7e 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-076.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-076.tex @@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ \chapter{Interlude with the Confessor: Sunk Costs} She came to the empty rock cavern pierced by many dark openings, lit by a torch of ancient style that fired as she entered. -There was no one else there, as yet, and after long minutes of nervous standing, she began the spell to Transfigure a cushioned sofa large enough for two people to sit, or maybe even lie down on. A simple wooden stool would have been easier, she could have done that in fifteen seconds, but—well— +There was no-one else there, as yet, and after long minutes of nervous standing, she began the spell to Transfigure a cushioned sofa large enough for two people to sit, or maybe even lie down on. A simple wooden stool would have been easier, she could have done that in fifteen seconds, but—well— Even when the sofa was fully conjured, Professor Snape still hadn’t arrived, and she sat down on the left side of her sofa with her pulse hammering in her throat. Somehow she was only becoming more nervous, not less, as the delay stretched. @@ -124,7 +124,7 @@ \chapter{Interlude with the Confessor: Sunk Costs} She answered with the first thought that came to mind. “If you signed a betrothal contract, that would mean you’d be equals with them some day, when they grew up and you got married.” -“That…” said Snape. “That’s probably not it, Miss~Felthorne, but thank you for trying.” The long delicate fingers, honed by stirring potions to unimaginably fine tolerances, reached up and rubbed at the temples of the man’s forehead. “It is enough to drive me to madness, so much hinging on such fragile words. Power he knows not…it \emph{must} be more than some unknown spell. Not something \emph{he} could acquire simply by practice and study. Some innate talent? No one can learn to be a Metamorphmagus…and yet that hardly seems like a power he \emph{knows not}. Nor can I see how \emph{either} could destroy all but a remnant of the other; I can see it in one direction, but not the reverse…” The Potions Master sighed. “And none of this means anything to you, does it, Miss~Felthorne? The words are nothing. The words are shadows. It is her \emph{intonation} which carries the meaning and that is something I’ve never been able to…” +“That…” said Snape. “That’s probably not it, Miss~Felthorne, but thank you for trying.” The long delicate fingers, honed by stirring potions to unimaginably fine tolerances, reached up and rubbed at the temples of the man’s forehead. “It is enough to drive me to madness, so much hinging on such fragile words. Power he knows not…it \emph{must} be more than some unknown spell. Not something \emph{he} could acquire simply by practice and study. Some innate talent? No-one can learn to be a Metamorphmagus…and yet that hardly seems like a power he \emph{knows not}. Nor can I see how \emph{either} could destroy all but a remnant of the other; I can see it in one direction, but not the reverse…” The Potions Master sighed. “And none of this means anything to you, does it, Miss~Felthorne? The words are nothing. The words are shadows. It is her \emph{intonation} which carries the meaning and that is something I’ve never been able to…” The Potions Master trailed off, while Rianne stared at him. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-077.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-077.tex index 0c372639b..3d2dc0a7b 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-077.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-077.tex @@ -92,7 +92,7 @@ \section{Aftermath: Albus Dumbledore and—} Harry walked forward, slowly, until he stood before the pedestal. “Who was she?” Harry said, his voice sounding strange in his own ears. -“Her name was Tricia Glasswell,” said Dumbledore. “The mother of a Muggleborn daughter, who the Death Eaters killed. She was a detective of the Muggle government, and after that she fed information from the Muggle authorities to the Order of the Phœnix, until she was—betrayed—into the hands of Voldemort.” There was a catch in the old wizard’s voice. “She did not die well, Harry.” +“Her name was Tricia Glasswell,” said Dumbledore. “The mother of a Muggle-born daughter, who the Death Eaters killed. She was a detective of the Muggle government, and after that she fed information from the Muggle authorities to the Order of the Phœnix, until she was—betrayed—into the hands of Voldemort.” There was a catch in the old wizard’s voice. “She did not die well, Harry.” “Did she save lives?” Harry said. @@ -236,7 +236,7 @@ \section{Aftermath: Albus Dumbledore and—} “I know you have been…\emph{investigating}…the third-floor corridor—” -“You know nothing of the sort.” The man’s back straightened against the wood. “Do not bluff against me, Severus Snape; I find it annoying, and you are in no position to annoy me. A single glance would tell any competent wizard that the Headmaster has laced that corridor with a ridiculous quantity of wards and webs, triggers and tripsigns. And more: there are Charms laid there of ancient power, magical constructs of which I have heard not even rumours, techniques that must have been disgorged from the hoarded lore of Flamel himself. Even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would have had trouble passing those without notice.” Professor Quirrell tapped a thoughtful finger on his cheek. “And for the actual lock, a \emph{Colloportus} laid on an ordinary doorknob, cast so weakly that it could not have kept out Miss~Granger on the day she entered Hogwarts. Never before in my existence have I encountered such a blatant trap.” Now the Defence Professor narrowed his eyes. “I know of no one left in the world against whom such fantastic feats of detection would serve any useful purpose. If there is some wizard possessed of ancient lore, of whom I know nothing, against whom this trap is set—you may trade \emph{that} information for as much silence as you like, my dear Professor, and a good serving of my favour left over afterwards.” +“You know nothing of the sort.” The man’s back straightened against the wood. “Do not bluff against me, Severus Snape; I find it annoying, and you are in no position to annoy me. A single glance would tell any competent wizard that the Headmaster has laced that corridor with a ridiculous quantity of wards and webs, triggers and tripsigns. And more: there are Charms laid there of ancient power, magical constructs of which I have heard not even rumours, techniques that must have been disgorged from the hoarded lore of Flamel himself. Even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would have had trouble passing those without notice.” Professor Quirrell tapped a thoughtful finger on his cheek. “And for the actual lock, a \emph{Colloportus} laid on an ordinary doorknob, cast so weakly that it could not have kept out Miss~Granger on the day she entered Hogwarts. Never before in my existence have I encountered such a blatant trap.” Now the Defence Professor narrowed his eyes. “I know of no-one left in the world against whom such fantastic feats of detection would serve any useful purpose. If there is some wizard possessed of ancient lore, of whom I know nothing, against whom this trap is set—you may trade \emph{that} information for as much silence as you like, my dear Professor, and a good serving of my favour left over afterwards.” You could have sworn that Professor Quirrell was watching Severus Snape with keen interest. Not the faintest trace of a smile crossed the man’s lips. @@ -440,7 +440,7 @@ \section{Aftermath: Albus Dumbledore and—} “I can believe \emph{that},” said Hermione Granger. She desperately wanted to shift her wand to her other hand, she felt like she needed to grab her right arm just to keep it up, her head ached like she’d been staring at the black mist for days; she didn’t know why she’d tired so quickly. -“Lucius Malfoy has taken notice of you, Hermione.” The whisper had risen, departed from its tonelessness, taken on a note of audible concern. “You have humiliated Slytherin House, you have defeated his son in battle. Even before then you were an embarrassment to all who stand with the Death Eaters; for you are a Muggleborn and yet you possess a power of wizardry greater than any pureblood. And now you are becoming known, the eyes of the world on you. Lucius Malfoy seeks to crush you, Hermione, to hurt you and perhaps even kill you, and he has the means to do it!” The whisper had grown urgent. +“Lucius Malfoy has taken notice of you, Hermione.” The whisper had risen, departed from its tonelessness, taken on a note of audible concern. “You have humiliated Slytherin House, you have defeated his son in battle. Even before then you were an embarrassment to all who stand with the Death Eaters; for you are a Muggle-born and yet you possess a power of wizardry greater than any pureblood. And now you are becoming known, the eyes of the world on you. Lucius Malfoy seeks to crush you, Hermione, to hurt you and perhaps even kill you, and he has the means to do it!” The whisper had grown urgent. There was a pause. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-078.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-078.tex index 1db7026ea..4ed429957 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-078.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-078.tex @@ -127,7 +127,7 @@ \chapter{Taboo Trade-offs Prelude: Cheating} In one sense, it might have been easier for Draco to win the true loyalties of his new soldiers if they’d thought Harry hadn’t wanted them. In another sense…well, it wasn’t easy to put into words. Harry had given him good soldiers with their pride intact, but it was more than that. Harry had showed kindliness toward his soldiers, but it was more than \emph{that}. It wasn’t just Harry playing fair, it was something that…that you couldn’t help but contrast with the way the game was played in Slytherin House. -So Draco hadn’t offered the slightest insult to Mr~Thomas, but brought him straight to his side, subordinate to himself and Padma but no one else. It was a test, Draco had told Mr~Thomas and everyone, not a promotion. Mr~Thomas would have to show himself worthy of rank within Dragon Army—but he would be given a chance, and the chance \emph{would} be fair. Mr~Thomas had looked surprised at the ceremony of it (the Chaos Legion, from what Draco had heard, didn’t stand on formality) but the Gryffindor boy had stood a little straighter, and nodded. +So Draco hadn’t offered the slightest insult to Mr~Thomas, but brought him straight to his side, subordinate to himself and Padma but no-one else. It was a test, Draco had told Mr~Thomas and everyone, not a promotion. Mr~Thomas would have to show himself worthy of rank within Dragon Army—but he would be given a chance, and the chance \emph{would} be fair. Mr~Thomas had looked surprised at the ceremony of it (the Chaos Legion, from what Draco had heard, didn’t stand on formality) but the Gryffindor boy had stood a little straighter, and nodded. And then, after Mr~Thomas had done well enough in one of Dragon Army’s training sessions, he’d been brought into the strategy session in Dragon Army’s huge military office. And a few minutes into the session, Padma had happened to ask—as though it was a perfectly normal question—whether Mr~Thomas had any ideas about how to defeat the Chaos Legion. @@ -205,7 +205,7 @@ \chapter{Taboo Trade-offs Prelude: Cheating} You might guess that there was some sort of incredibly complicated and fascinating explanation behind this, and you would be right. -Two days earlier Harry had been sitting amid his bookcases in the comfy rocking-chair he’d obtained for his trunk’s cavern level, pondering silently in the quiet span between classes and dinner time, thinking about power. +Two days earlier Harry had been sitting amid his bookcases in the comfy rocking chair he’d obtained for his trunk’s cavern level, pondering silently in the quiet span between classes and dinner time, thinking about power. For sixteen Chaotics to defeat twenty-eight Sunnies and twenty-eight Dragons they would need a force amplifier. There were limits to what you could do with manœuvre. There \emph{had} to be a secret weapon and it had to be invincible, or at least moderately unstoppable. @@ -225,7 +225,7 @@ \chapter{Taboo Trade-offs Prelude: Cheating} \later -It was a good thing that Neville Longbottom hadn’t the tiniest idea that his grandmother was watching; or he would’ve been more self-conscious about screaming scary battle cries at the top of his lungs while casting \emph{Luminos} every three seconds as he rocketed through a dense forest of trees, hot on the tail of Gregory Goyle. +It was a good thing that Neville Longbottom hadn’t the tiniest idea that his grandmother was watching; or he would’ve been more self-conscious about screaming scary battle-cries at the top of his lungs while casting \emph{Luminos} every three seconds as he rocketed through a dense forest of trees, hot on the tail of Gregory Goyle. (“But—” Augusta Longbottom said, her expression showing almost as much astonishment as worry. “But Neville is afraid of heights!”) @@ -257,7 +257,7 @@ \chapter{Taboo Trade-offs Prelude: Cheating} “Report!” snapped the Dragon General, doing his best to conceal the fatigue he felt after casting seventeen Locking Charms, with more yet to come. -Beads of sweat now dotted Gregory’s forehead. “The enemy downed Dylan Vaughan,” Gregory said formally. “Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini were each Transfiguring something dark-grey and roundish, I don’t think it was finished but it looked like it would be big and hollow, sort of cauldron-shaped. Zabini’s was smaller than Potter’s. I couldn’t get either of them or disrupt their Transfigurations, Tracey Davis blocked me. Neville Longbottom is on a broomstick and he’s still a terrible flyer but his aim is really good.” +Beads of sweat now dotted Gregory’s forehead. “The enemy downed Dylan Vaughan,” Gregory said formally. “Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini were each Transfiguring something dark grey and roundish, I don’t think it was finished but it looked like it would be big and hollow, sort of cauldron-shaped. Zabini’s was smaller than Potter’s. I couldn’t get either of them or disrupt their Transfigurations, Tracey Davis blocked me. Neville Longbottom is on a broomstick and he’s still a terrible flyer but his aim is really good.” Draco listened, frowning, and then he glanced at Padma and Dean Thomas, who both shook their own heads, indicating that they also couldn’t think of what might be big and grey and shaped like a cauldron. @@ -632,7 +632,7 @@ \chapter{Taboo Trade-offs Prelude: Cheating} The screens showed it all very clearly, to the entire watching Hogwarts stadium. -And the bone-dead-silent hush that fell over every bench in every stand said that everyone understood quite clearly what it meant, that the scion of House Malfoy had just had his magic overcome by a Muggleborn. +And the bone-dead-silent hush that fell over every bench in every stand said that everyone understood quite clearly what it meant, that the scion of House Malfoy had just had his magic overcome by a Muggle-born. Hermione Granger didn’t pause in her fight, gave no sign that she even knew what she’d done; instead her foot snapped out in a Muggle-style kick that knocked Draco’s wand cleanly out of his hand, his shocked mind and body moving just a little too slowly. Draco dove after his wand, scrabbling frantically on the ground, but from behind him a girl’s cracking voice said “\emph{Somnium!}” and Draco Malfoy fell and didn’t rise again. @@ -831,7 +831,7 @@ \chapter{Taboo Trade-offs Prelude: Cheating} Draco Malfoy was almost never late. -Since Harry was looking in the direction of the Slytherin table, he didn’t see Hermione Granger entering through the huge doors of the Great Hall. Thus he was rather startled when he turned back and discovered Hermione sitting down directly beside him at the Ravenclaw table, just as if she hadn’t not-done that for more than a week. +Since Harry was looking in the direction of the Slytherin table, he didn’t see Hermione Granger entering through the huge doors of the Great Hall. Thus he was rather startled when he turned back and discovered Hermione sitting down directly beside him at the Ravenclaw table, just as if she hadn’t not done that for more than a week. “Hi, Harry,” Hermione said, her voice sounding almost exactly normal. She started to put toast on her plate and a selection of healthy fruits and vegetables. “How are you?” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-079.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-079.tex index 85f438a01..fed4a6cfb 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-079.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-079.tex @@ -64,7 +64,7 @@ “Could someone else be Polyjuiced as her?” Harry Potter interrupted again. “What did you \emph{observe,} Headmaster?” -Albus said heavily, “A person who looked like Madam McJorgenson told us that a single Legilimens had lightly touched Miss~Granger’s mind some months ago. That is from January, Harry, when I communicated with Miss~Granger about the matter of a certain Dementor. That was expected; but what I did not expect was the rest of what Sophie found.” The old wizard turned to gaze into the Floo fire, letting the orange flames reflect on his face. “As you say, Harry, a False Memory Charm is one possibility; they are, when cast perfectly, indistinguishable from true memory—” +Albus said heavily, “A person who looked like Madam McJorgenson told us that a single Legilimens had lightly touched Miss~Granger’s mind some months ago. That is from January, Harry, when I communicated with Miss~Granger about the matter of a certain Dementor. That was expected; but what I did not expect was the rest of what Sophie found.” The old wizard turned to gaze into the Floo-fire, letting the orange flames reflect on his face. “As you say, Harry, a False Memory Charm is one possibility; they are, when cast perfectly, indistinguishable from true memory—” “That doesn’t surprise me,” Harry interrupted. “Studies show that human memories are more or less rewritten every time we remember them—” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-080.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-080.tex index 8c08f3598..f30d4f361 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-080.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-080.tex @@ -28,7 +28,7 @@ Professor McGonagall was sitting beside him, and her eyes never left him for more than twenty consecutive seconds. -Harry had read the \emph{Daily Prophet} that morning. The headline had been “\inlineheadline{Mad Muggleborn Tries To End Ancient Line}” and the rest of the paper had been the same. When Harry was nine years old the IRA had blown up a British barracks, and he’d watched on TV as all the politicians contested to see who could be the most loudly outraged. And the thought had occurred to Harry—even then, before he’d known much about psychology—that it looked like \emph{everyone} was competing to see who could be most angry, and \emph{nobody} would’ve been allowed to suggest that anyone was being \emph{too} angry, even if they’d just proposed the saturation nuclear bombing of Ireland. He’d been struck, even then, by an essential emptiness in the indignation of politicians—though he hadn’t had the words to describe it, at that age—a sense that they were trying to score cheap points by hitting at the same safe target as everyone else. +Harry had read the \emph{Daily Prophet} that morning. The headline had been “\inlineheadline{Mad Muggle-born Tries To End Ancient Line}” and the rest of the paper had been the same. When Harry was nine years old the IRA had blown up a British barracks, and he’d watched on TV as all the politicians contested to see who could be the most loudly outraged. And the thought had occurred to Harry—even then, before he’d known much about psychology—that it looked like \emph{everyone} was competing to see who could be most angry, and \emph{nobody} would’ve been allowed to suggest that anyone was being \emph{too} angry, even if they’d just proposed the saturation nuclear bombing of Ireland. He’d been struck, even then, by an essential emptiness in the indignation of politicians—though he hadn’t had the words to describe it, at that age—a sense that they were trying to score cheap points by hitting at the same safe target as everyone else. Harry had always possessed that sense of hollowness about political indignation, but it was strange how very much more obvious it seemed, when you were reading a dozen articles in the \emph{Daily Prophet} attacking Hermione Granger. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-082.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-082.tex index 63847be11..b38df0a0e 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-082.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-082.tex @@ -107,7 +107,7 @@ “You ransom Aberforth, you lose the war,” the man said sharply. “That simple. One hundred thousand Galleons is nearly all we’ve got in the war-chest, and if you use it like this, it won’t be refilled. What’ll you do, try to convince the Potters to empty their vault like the Longbottoms already did? Voldie’s just going to kidnap someone else and make another demand. Alice, Minerva, anyone you care about, they’ll all be targets if you pay off the Death Eaters. That’s not the lesson you should be trying to teach them.” -“If I do this I will have no one. No one.” Dumbledore’s voice broke, the world tilted as the head whose eyes Harry looked through fell down into the ancient hands, and awful sounds came from not-Harry’s throat as he began to sob like a child. +“If I do this I will have no-one. No-one.” Dumbledore’s voice broke, the world tilted as the head whose eyes Harry looked through fell down into the ancient hands, and awful sounds came from not-Harry’s throat as he began to sob like a child. “Shall I tell Voldie’s messenger no?” said Alastor’s voice, now strangely gentle. “You don’t have to do it yourself, old friend.” @@ -212,7 +212,7 @@ But it was understood, somehow it was understood, that utilitarian ethicists didn’t \emph{actually} rob banks so they could give the money to the poor. The end result of throwing away all ethical constraint wouldn’t \emph{actually} be sunshine and roses and happiness for all. The prescription of consequentialism was to take the action that led to the best net consequences, not actions that had one positive consequence and wrecked everything else along the way. Expected utility maximizers were allowed to take common sense into account, when they were calculating their expectations. -Somehow Harry had understood that; even before anyone else had warned him, he’d understood. Before he’d read about Vladimir Lenin or the history of the French Revolution, he’d known. It might have been his earliest science fiction books warning him about people with good intentions, or maybe Harry had just seen the logic for himself. Somehow he’d known from the very beginning, that if he stepped outside his ethics \emph{whenever there was a reason,} the end result wouldn’t be good. +Somehow Harry had understood that; even before anyone else had warned him, he’d understood. Before he’d read about Vladimir Lenin or the history of the French Revolution, he’d known. It might have been his earliest science-fiction books warning him about people with good intentions, or maybe Harry had just seen the logic for himself. Somehow he’d known from the very beginning, that if he stepped outside his ethics \emph{whenever there was a reason,} the end result wouldn’t be good. A final image came to him, then: Lily Potter standing in front of her baby’s crib and measuring the intervals between outcomes: the final outcome if she stayed and tried to curse her enemy (dead Lily, dead Harry), the final outcome if she walked away (live Lily, dead Harry), weighing the expected utilities, and making the only sensible choice. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-084.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-084.tex index 8a0966eb6..c3e92cc3e 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-084.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-084.tex @@ -8,7 +8,7 @@ “Where are my parents?” Hermione whispered to the Head of House Gryffindor. Somehow it seemed like the worst thing in the world to face them, even worse than everything else; and yet she still wanted to see them. -The gentle look on Professor McGonagall’s face Transfigured into something sadder. “I’m sorry, Miss~Granger. Though it was not always so, we have found in recent years that it is wiser not to tell the parents of Muggleborns about any danger their child has faced. I should advise you also to remain silent, if you wish to stay at Hogwarts without trouble from them.” +The gentle look on Professor McGonagall’s face Transfigured into something sadder. “I’m sorry, Miss~Granger. Though it was not always so, we have found in recent years that it is wiser not to tell the parents of Muggle-borns about any danger their child has faced. I should advise you also to remain silent, if you wish to stay at Hogwarts without trouble from them.” “I’m not being expelled?” the girl whispered. “For what I did?” @@ -98,7 +98,7 @@ “Gone to Azkaban of your own will?” Dumbledore said. “Miss~Granger, that is more than I would ever ask anyone to take upon themselves.” -“But—” Hermione swallowed. She couldn’t help but notice the loophole, anyone who wanted to get through the portrait-door to the Ravenclaw dorm quickly learned to pay attention to exact wordings. “But it’s not more than you’d take on \emph{yourself}.” +“But—” Hermione swallowed. She couldn’t help but notice the loophole, anyone who wanted to get through the portrait door to the Ravenclaw dorm quickly learned to pay attention to exact wordings. “But it’s not more than you’d take on \emph{yourself}.” “Hermione—” the old wizard began. @@ -332,7 +332,7 @@ “How bad is it?” She thought her voice should have come out in a whisper, a croak, but it didn’t. -“Well—” Harry said with obvious hesitation. “The thing you’ve got to understand, Hermione, is that you had a lot of defenders at breakfast-time today, but everyone on your side was…\emph{making stuff up}. Draco tried to kill you first, things like that. It was Granger versus Malfoy, that’s how people saw it, like a see-saw where pushing his side down meant pushing your side up. I told them you were probably \emph{both} innocent, that you’d both been Memory-Charmed. They didn’t listen, both sides treated me like a traitor trying to play the middle. And then people heard that Draco had testified under Veritaserum that he’d been trying to help you before the battle—stop making that expression, Hermione, you didn’t actually do anything to him. Anyway, all people understood was that the pro-Malfoy faction had been right and the pro-Granger faction had been wrong.” Harry gave a small sigh. “I \emph{told} them that when the truth came out later they’d be embarrassed…” +“Well—” Harry said with obvious hesitation. “The thing you’ve got to understand, Hermione, is that you had a lot of defenders at breakfast time today, but everyone on your side was…\emph{making stuff up}. Draco tried to kill you first, things like that. It was Granger versus Malfoy, that’s how people saw it, like a see-saw where pushing his side down meant pushing your side up. I told them you were probably \emph{both} innocent, that you’d both been Memory-Charmed. They didn’t listen, both sides treated me like a traitor trying to play the middle. And then people heard that Draco had testified under Veritaserum that he’d been trying to help you before the battle—stop making that expression, Hermione, you didn’t actually do anything to him. Anyway, all people understood was that the pro-Malfoy faction had been right and the pro-Granger faction had been wrong.” Harry gave a small sigh. “I \emph{told} them that when the truth came out later they’d be embarrassed…” “How bad is it?” she said again. This time her voice did come out weaker. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-085.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-085.tex index f261b622e..dea5f2624 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-085.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-085.tex @@ -280,7 +280,7 @@ In the distant lands of magical Asia, an ancient witch named Fan Tong, sleeping the tired days away, told her anxious great-great-grandson that she was fine, it had only been a nightmare, and went back to sleep. -In a land where Muggleborns received no letters of any kind, a girl-child too young to have a name of her own was rocked in the arms of her annoyed but loving mother until she stopped crying and went back to sleep. +In a land where Muggle-borns received no letters of any kind, a girl-child too young to have a name of her own was rocked in the arms of her annoyed but loving mother until she stopped crying and went back to sleep. None of them slept well. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-086.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-086.tex index e14e409e3..773986395 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-086.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-086.tex @@ -38,7 +38,7 @@ \chapter{Multiple Hypothesis Testing} \label{Daily Prophet:} \headline{Legal Tricks Free\\ -“Mad Muggleborn”\\ +“Mad Muggle-born”\\ As Potter Threatens Ministry\\ With Attack on Azkaban} \end{headlines} @@ -56,7 +56,7 @@ \section{Hypothesis: Voldemort\\ And Harry… -A boy’s small, thin frame, perched on the arm of his chair, as though the energies running through him were too great to allow ordinary seating. Set face, sweaty hair, intent green eyes, and within it all, the jagged lightning-bolt of his livid scar. He seemed grimmer, now; even compared to a single week earlier. +A boy’s small, thin frame, perched on the arm of his chair, as though the energies running through him were too great to allow ordinary seating. Set face, sweaty hair, intent green eyes, and within it all, the jagged lightning bolt of his livid scar. He seemed grimmer, now; even compared to a single week earlier. For a moment Minerva flashed back to her trip to Diagon Alley with Harry, what seemed like ages and ages ago. There’d been this sombre boy \emph{inside} that Harry, somehow, even then. This wasn’t entirely her own fault, or Albus’s fault. And yet there was something almost unbearably sad about the contrast between the young boy she’d first met, and what magical Britain had made of him. Harry had never had much of an ordinary childhood, she’d gathered; Harry’s adoptive parents had said to her that he’d spoken little and played less with Muggle children. It was painful to think that Harry might have had only a few months of playing beside the other children in Hogwarts, before the war’s demands had stripped it all away. Maybe there was another face that Harry showed to the children his own age, when he wasn’t staring down the Wizengamot. But she couldn’t stop herself from imagining Harry Potter’s childhood as a heap of firewood, and herself and Albus feeding the wooden branches, piece by piece, into the flames. @@ -276,7 +276,7 @@ \section{Hypothesis: Voldemort\\ \emph{But what’s the actual flaw in the logic?} said Ravenclaw Two. \emph{In worlds with a smart Lord Voldemort, everyone in the Order of the Phœnix died in the first five minutes of the war. The world doesn’t look like that, so we don’t live in that world. QED.} -\emph{Is that really certain?} asked Ravenclaw Three, who’d been appointed as the defender. \emph{Maybe there was some reason Lord Voldemort} wasn’t \emph{fighting all-out back then—} +\emph{Is that really certain?} asked Ravenclaw Three, who’d been appointed as the defender. \emph{Maybe there was some reason Lord Voldemort} wasn’t \emph{fighting all out back then—} \emph{Like what?} demanded Ravenclaw Two. \emph{Furthermore, whatever your excuse, I demand that the probability of your hypothesis be penalized in accordance with its added complexity—} @@ -302,7 +302,7 @@ \section{Hypothesis: Voldemort\\ \emph{And if he is your equal, and you do have to fight him—} -For an instant, Harry’s mind tried to imagine the spectre of two \emph{creative} wizards fighting an all-out-war against each other. +For an instant, Harry’s mind tried to imagine the spectre of two \emph{creative} wizards fighting an all-out war against each other. Harry had noted all the Charms and Potions in his first-year books that could be creatively used to kill people. He hadn’t been able to help himself. Literally. He’d \emph{tried} to stop his brain from doing it each time, but it was like looking at a fish and trying to stop your brain from noticing it was a fish. What someone could creatively do with seventh-year, or Auror-level, or ancient lost magic such as Lord Voldemort had possessed…didn’t bear thinking about. A magically-superpowered creative-genius psychopath wasn’t a ‘threat’, it was an extinction event. @@ -316,7 +316,7 @@ \section{Hypothesis: Voldemort\\ Requiring that level of intelligence was an additional burdensome detail; prior odds of a random population member being that intelligent were low… -But Lord Voldemort wasn’t a randomly selected wizard, he was one particular wizard in the population who’d come to everyone’s attention. The puzzle of the Mark implied a certain minimum level of intelligence, even if (hypothetically) the Dark Lord had taken longer to think it through. Then again, in the Muggle world, all of the extremely intelligent people Harry knew about from history had \emph{not} become evil dictators or terrorists. The closest thing to that in the Muggle world was hedge-fund managers, and none of \emph{them} had tried to take over so much as a third-world country, a point which put upper bounds on both their possible evil and possible goodness. +But Lord Voldemort wasn’t a randomly selected wizard, he was one particular wizard in the population who’d come to everyone’s attention. The puzzle of the Mark implied a certain minimum level of intelligence, even if (hypothetically) the Dark Lord had taken longer to think it through. Then again, in the Muggle world, all of the extremely intelligent people Harry knew about from history had \emph{not} become evil dictators or terrorists. The closest thing to that in the Muggle world was hedge-fund managers, and none of \emph{them} had tried to take over so much as a Third World country, a point which put upper bounds on both their possible evil and possible goodness. There were hypotheses where the Dark Lord was smart and the Order of the Phœnix \emph{didn’t} just instantly die, but those hypotheses were more complicated and ought to get complexity penalties. After the complexity penalties of the further excuses were factored in, there would be a large likelihood ratio from the hypotheses ‘The Dark Lord is smart’ versus ‘The Dark Lord was stupid’ to the observation, ‘The Dark Lord did not instantly win the war’. That was probably worth a 10:1 likelihood ratio in favour of the Dark Lord being stupid…but maybe not 100:1. You couldn’t actually say that ‘The Dark Lord instantly wins’ had a probability of \emph{more} than 99 percent, assuming the Dark Lord started out smart; the sum over all possible excuses would be more than $.01$. @@ -324,7 +324,7 @@ \section{Hypothesis: Voldemort\\ \emph{originally} included a line about how Lord Voldemort would \emph{immediately} die if he confronted the Potters. Which Albus Dumbledore had then edited in Professor McGonagall’s memory, in order to lure Lord Voldemort to his doom. If there \emph{was} no such line, the Prophecy did sound \emph{somewhat} more like You-Know-Who and the Boy-Who-Lived were destined to have some later confrontation. But in \emph{that} case, it was less likely that Dumbledore would’ve come up with a plausible-sounding excuse not to take Harry to the Hall of Prophecy… -Harry was wondering if he could even \emph{get} a Bayesian calculation out of this. Of course, the point of a subjective Bayesian calculation wasn’t that, after you made up a bunch of numbers, multiplying them out would give you an exactly right answer. The real point was that the \emph{process} of making up numbers would force you to tally all the relevant facts and weigh all the relative probabilities. Like realizing, as soon as you actually \emph{thought} about the probability of the Dark Mark not-fading \emph{if} You-Know-Who \emph{was} dead, that the probability wasn’t low enough for the observation to count as strong evidence. One version of the process was to tally hypotheses and list out evidence, make up all the numbers, do the calculation, and then throw out the final answer and go with your brain’s gut feeling \emph{after} you’d forced it to really \emph{weigh} everything. The trouble was that the items of evidence weren’t conditionally independent, and there were multiple interacting background facts of interest… +Harry was wondering if he could even \emph{get} a Bayesian calculation out of this. Of course, the point of a subjective Bayesian calculation wasn’t that, after you made up a bunch of numbers, multiplying them out would give you an exactly right answer. The real point was that the \emph{process} of making up numbers would force you to tally all the relevant facts and weigh all the relative probabilities. Like realizing, as soon as you actually \emph{thought} about the probability of the Dark Mark not fading \emph{if} You-Know-Who \emph{was} dead, that the probability wasn’t low enough for the observation to count as strong evidence. One version of the process was to tally hypotheses and list out evidence, make up all the numbers, do the calculation, and then throw out the final answer and go with your brain’s gut feeling \emph{after} you’d forced it to really \emph{weigh} everything. The trouble was that the items of evidence weren’t conditionally independent, and there were multiple interacting background facts of interest… …well, \emph{one} thing at least was certain. @@ -408,7 +408,7 @@ \section{Hypothesis: Voldemort\\ There was a blur of motion as the resolving figure snapped up a wand, smoothly spinning with the Floo’s momentum like a ballet dance step, so that his firing arc covered the entire 360-degree arc of the room; and then just as abruptly, the figure stopped in place. -In the first instant that Harry saw that man, before Harry even took in the eye, he noticed the scars on the hands, the scars on the face, like the man had been burned and cut over his entire body; though only the man’s hands and face were visible, of all his flesh. The rest of the man’s body was hidden, encased not in robes, but in leather that looked more like armour than clothing; dark grey leather, matching the man’s mop of greyed hair. +In the first instant that Harry saw that man, before Harry even took in the eye, he noticed the scars on the hands, the scars on the face, like the man had been burned and cut over his entire body; though only the man’s hands and face were visible, of all his flesh. The rest of the man’s body was hidden, encased not in robes, but in leather that looked more like armour than clothing; dark-grey leather, matching the man’s mop of greyed hair. The next thing that Harry’s vision comprehended was the brilliant blue eye occupying the right side of the man’s face. @@ -508,7 +508,7 @@ \section{Hypothesis: Voldemort\\ “So you’re think you’re all grown up already, eh? Look me in the eyes!” -Harry strengthened his shields, and looked once more into the dark grey eye and the brilliant blue. +Harry strengthened his shields, and looked once more into the dark-grey eye and the brilliant blue. “Ever watched someone die?” asked Mad-Eye Moody. @@ -713,9 +713,9 @@ \section{Hypothesis: Voldemort\\ The Defence Professor did not react to this at all. -Harry continued. “From what Draco says, Lucius prioritized him over important Wizengamot votes. That’s significant evidence, since there’s less expensive ways to fake love, if you just want to fake it. And it’s not like the prior probability of a parent loving their child is \emph{low}. I suppose it’s possible that Lucius was just taking on the \emph{role} of a loving father, and he renounced that role after he learned Draco was consorting with Muggleborns. But as the saying goes, Professor, one must distinguish possibility from probability.” +Harry continued. “From what Draco says, Lucius prioritized him over important Wizengamot votes. That’s significant evidence, since there’s less expensive ways to fake love, if you just want to fake it. And it’s not like the prior probability of a parent loving their child is \emph{low}. I suppose it’s possible that Lucius was just taking on the \emph{role} of a loving father, and he renounced that role after he learned Draco was consorting with Muggle-borns. But as the saying goes, Professor, one must distinguish possibility from probability.” -“All the better the crime,” the Defence Professor said, still in that soft tone, “if no one would believe it of him.” +“All the better the crime,” the Defence Professor said, still in that soft tone, “if no-one would believe it of him.” “And how would Lucius even Memory-Charm Hermione in the first place, without setting off the wards? \emph{He’s} not a Professor—oh, right, you think it’s Professor Snape.” @@ -767,9 +767,9 @@ \section{Hypothesis: Voldemort\\ “You think the one who’s coming is the one who might’ve framed Hermione?” said Harry. As his mind allocated yet another hypothesis, \emph{uncertain predicate referent, he-who-is-coming.} -“With no offense meant to Miss~Granger,” the Defence Professor said with another frown, “her life or death does not seem that important. But someone \emph{was} to come—one who, in your interpretation, was not already there—and someone so significant, and unknown as a player…who knows what \emph{else} they may have done?” +“With no offence meant to Miss~Granger,” the Defence Professor said with another frown, “her life or death does not seem that important. But someone \emph{was} to come—one who, in your interpretation, was not already there—and someone so significant, and unknown as a player…who knows what \emph{else} they may have done?” -Harry nodded, and mentally sighed because he was going to have to redo his Lord-Voldemort odds calculation with yet another piece of evidence in the mix. +Harry nodded, and mentally sighed because he was going to have to redo his Lord Voldemort odds calculation with yet another piece of evidence in the mix. Professor Quirrell spoke with eyes half-lidded, looking out like through slits. “More than the question of whom the prophecy spoke—who was meant to \emph{hear} it? It is said that fates are spoken to those with the power to cause them or avert them. Dumbledore. Myself. You. As a distant fourth, Severus Snape. But of those four, Dumbledore and Snape would often be in Trelawney’s presence. You and I are the ones who would not have spent much time around her before that Sunday. I think it quite likely that the prophecy was meant for one of \emph{us}—before Dumbledore took the prophetess away. \emph{Did} the Headmaster say nothing more to you?” Professor Quirrell’s voice was demanding now. “I thought I heard too much force in that denial, Mr~Potter.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-087.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-087.tex index 400fbc680..2a99df16f 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-087.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-087.tex @@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ \section{Thursday, April 16th, 1992.} \lettrine{T}{he} school was almost deserted now, nine-tenths of the students having gone home for the Easter holiday, just about everyone she knew missing. Susan had stayed behind, her grand-aunt being quite busy, as had Ron for reasons she didn’t know—maybe the Weasley family was poor enough that feeding all the children for an extra week would’ve been a noticeable strain? It all worked out well enough, since Ron and Susan were just about the only ones left who’d still talk to her. (At least that she wanted to talk back \emph{to.} Lavender was still nice to her, and Tracey was, um, Tracey, but neither of them were quite \emph{relaxing} to spend a free hour around; and in any case, neither of those two had stayed over for the Easter hols.) -If she couldn’t go \emph{home}—and she wasn’t allowed to go home, her parents had been lied-to and told she’d had Glowpox—then an almost-empty Hogwarts was the next best thing. +If she couldn’t go \emph{home}—and she wasn’t allowed to go home, her parents had been lied to and told she’d had Glowpox—then an almost-empty Hogwarts was the next best thing. She could even visit the library without people staring at her, since there were no lessons and nobody was trying to do schoolwork. @@ -14,7 +14,7 @@ \section{Thursday, April 16th, 1992.} “Sorry!” Harry Potter said, hastily holding up his palms to show his left hand empty, and his right hand holding a small red-velvet pouch. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” -There was an awful silence, her heartbeat increasing and her palms starting to sweat as Harry Potter just looked at her. She’d \emph{almost} talked to him, on the first morning of the rest of her life; but when she’d come down to breakfast Harry Potter had looked so \emph{awful}—so she hadn’t sat down beside him at the breakfast-table, just quietly eaten in her own little bubble of nobody else sitting next to her, and it had been horrible, but Harry hadn’t come to her, and…she just hadn’t talked to him, since then. (It wasn’t hard to avoid everyone, if you stayed out of the Ravenclaw common room, and ran out of classes before anyone could talk to you.) +There was an awful silence, her heartbeat increasing and her palms starting to sweat as Harry Potter just looked at her. She’d \emph{almost} talked to him, on the first morning of the rest of her life; but when she’d come down to breakfast Harry Potter had looked so \emph{awful}—so she hadn’t sat down beside him at the breakfast table, just quietly eaten in her own little bubble of nobody else sitting next to her, and it had been horrible, but Harry hadn’t come to her, and…she just hadn’t talked to him, since then. (It wasn’t hard to avoid everyone, if you stayed out of the Ravenclaw common room, and ran out of classes before anyone could talk to you.) And ever since she’d been wondering what Harry thought of her now—if he hated her for having lost all his money—or if he really \emph{was} in love with her and that’s why he’d done it—or if he’d given up on her keeping pace with him because \emph{she} couldn’t \emph{frighten Dementors}—she couldn’t face him now, she just couldn’t, she spent sleepless nights worrying what Harry thought of her now, and she was afraid, and she’d been avoiding the boy who’d spent all his money to save her, and she was a horrible ungrateful wretch, and a terrible person and— @@ -42,7 +42,7 @@ \section{Thursday, April 16th, 1992.} “I think I understand,” Harry said cautiously. “What’re you reading?” -Before she could stop him, them, Harry bent over the library-desk to see the book she was reading, leaning his head forward before she could think to grab the book away— +Before she could stop him, them, Harry bent over the library desk to see the book she was reading, leaning his head forward before she could think to grab the book away— Harry stared at the open page. @@ -184,7 +184,7 @@ \section{Thursday, April 16th, 1992.} “If you believe that,” she said with her voice unsteady, “if you \emph{can} believe that, then you’re evil. People are always responsible for what they do. It doesn’t matter what anyone \emph{tells} you to do, you’re the one who does it. Everyone knows that—” -“\emph{No they don’t!} You grew up in a post-World-War-Two society where ‘I vas only followink orders’ is something \emph{everyone knows} the bad guys said. In the fifteenth century they would’ve called it honourable fealty.” Harry’s voice was rising. “Do you think you’re, you’re just \emph{genetically} better than everyone who lived back then? Like if you’d been transported back to fifteenth-century London as a baby, you’d realize \emph{all on your own} that burning cats was wrong, witch-burning was wrong, slavery was wrong, that every sentient being ought to be in your circle of concern? Do you think you’d \emph{finish} realizing all that by the first day you got to Hogwarts? Nobody ever \emph{told} Draco he was personally responsible for becoming more ethical than the society he grew up in. And \emph{despite that}, it only took him four months to get to the point where he’d grab a Muggleborn falling off a building.” Harry’s eyes were as fierce as she’d ever seen him. “I’m not \emph{finished} corrupting Draco Malfoy, but I think \emph{he’s done pretty well so far.}” +“\emph{No they don’t!} You grew up in a post-World-War-Two society where ‘I vas only followink orders’ is something \emph{everyone knows} the bad guys said. In the fifteenth century they would’ve called it honourable fealty.” Harry’s voice was rising. “Do you think you’re, you’re just \emph{genetically} better than everyone who lived back then? Like if you’d been transported back to fifteenth-century London as a baby, you’d realize \emph{all on your own} that burning cats was wrong, witch-burning was wrong, slavery was wrong, that every sentient being ought to be in your circle of concern? Do you think you’d \emph{finish} realizing all that by the first day you got to Hogwarts? Nobody ever \emph{told} Draco he was personally responsible for becoming more ethical than the society he grew up in. And \emph{despite that}, it only took him four months to get to the point where he’d grab a Muggle-born falling off a building.” Harry’s eyes were as fierce as she’d ever seen him. “I’m not \emph{finished} corrupting Draco Malfoy, but I think \emph{he’s done pretty well so far.}” The problem with having such a good memory was that she \emph{did} remember. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-088.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-088.tex index 6bb01b7b7..935d69e2e 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-088.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-088.tex @@ -9,7 +9,7 @@ \section{April 16th, 1992.} \hplettrineextrapara Harry stomped over to the mostly-deserted Gryffindor table, determining at a glance that lunch today was breen and Roopo balls. The ambient conversation, Harry could likewise hear, was Quidditch-related; an auditory environment which rated somewhat worse than the sound of rusty chainsaws, but better than what the Ravenclaw table was still \emph{blithering} about Hermione. Gryffindor House, at least, had started out less sympathetic to Draco Malfoy and had more political incentive to wish that everyone would just forget certain unfortunate facts; and if that wasn’t the right reason for silence, it was at least silence. Dean and Seamus and Lavender were all gone for the holidays, but at least that left… -“What was all that ruckus at the Head Table?” Harry said to the Weasley-twin group-mind, as he began to serve himself his own plate. “It looked like it was just ending as I walked in.” +“What was all that ruckus at the Head Table?” Harry said to the Weasley twin group-mind, as he began to serve himself his own plate. “It looked like it was just ending as I walked in.” “Our beloved, but clumsy Professor Trelawney—” @@ -81,7 +81,7 @@ \section{April 16th, 1992.} Without any hesitation, the Defence Professor swung smoothly on the Gryffindor table and clapped his hands with a sound like a floor cracking through. -“Michelle Morgan of House Gryffindor, second in command of Pinnini’s Army,” the Defence Professor said calmly into the resulting quiet. “Please advise your Head of House.” +“Michelle Morgan of House Gryffindor, second-in-command of Pinnini’s Army,” the Defence Professor said calmly into the resulting quiet. “Please advise your Head of House.” Michelle Morgan climbed up onto her bench and spoke, the tiny witch sounding far more confident than Minerva remembered her being at the start of the year. “Students walking through the hallways would be spread out and impossible to defend. All students are to remain in the Great Hall and form a cluster in the centre…\emph{not} surrounded by tables, a troll would jump right over tables…with the perimeter defended by seventh-year students. From the armies only, no matter how good they are at \emph{duelling,} so they don’t get in each other’s lines of fire.” Michelle hesitated. “I’m sorry, Mr~Hagrid, but—it wouldn’t be safe for you, you should stay behind with the students. And Professor Trelawney shouldn’t confront a troll on her own either,” Michelle sounded much less apologetic about this part, “but if she’s paired with Professor Quirrell the two of them together can form an additional trusted and effective battle unit. That concludes my analysis, Professor.” @@ -131,7 +131,7 @@ \section{April 16th, 1992.} \emph{Tick.} -And the thought still didn’t come to Harry, not until after all the students had formed a mass of perhaps a hundred bodies patrolled by proudly grim-looking seventh-year-students with their wands all pointed outward, and somebody suggested doing a headcount, and someone else replied sarcastically that this might have made sense on some other day, but right now practically everyone was gone for the spring holiday and nobody really knew how many students were supposed to be in the room, let alone if any were missing. +And the thought still didn’t come to Harry, not until after all the students had formed a mass of perhaps a hundred bodies patrolled by proudly grim-looking seventh-year students with their wands all pointed outward, and somebody suggested doing a headcount, and someone else replied sarcastically that this might have made sense on some other day, but right now practically everyone was gone for the spring holiday and nobody really knew how many students were supposed to be in the room, let alone if any were missing. \emph{Tick.} @@ -247,9 +247,9 @@ \section{April 16th, 1992.} Students glanced at each other uneasily. The younger students looked expectantly at the older students, while they in turn turned to look at the students who were guarding the perimeter. Most of those were staring straight ahead, pointing their wands just in case the troll picked that moment to burst through a wall. -No one moved. +No-one moved. -No one spoke. +No-one spoke. Harry Potter spoke again. “We’re not going to \emph{fight} the troll. If we see it we’ll just fly away and there’s no way it’ll be able to keep up with us on a broomstick. I’ll take responsibility for squaring it with the administration. \emph{Please.}” @@ -357,7 +357,7 @@ \section{April 16th, 1992.} “We can’t figure out how to find her!” one of the Weasley twins blurted, hands twisting in distress. “We sneaked out because we thought we could find Miss~Granger—there \emph{has} to be a quick way to find anyone inside the Hogwarts castle, we’re both sure of it—but we can’t figure out what it is!” -Harry stared at both of them, from where he was hanging upside down from the broomstick where his desperate manœuvre had brought him, and entirely by reflex his mouth said, “Well, \emph{why} were you so sure you could find her?” +Harry stared at both of them, from where he was hanging upside-down from the broomstick where his desperate manœuvre had brought him, and entirely by reflex his mouth said, “Well, \emph{why} were you so sure you could find her?” “We \emph{don’t know!}” cried the other Weasley twin. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-090.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-090.tex index ff7833295..df26c0f14 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-090.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-090.tex @@ -82,7 +82,7 @@ She was aware now that tears were sliding down her cheeks, again. “Harry—Harry, you have to believe that this isn’t your fault!” -“Of course it’s my fault. There’s no one else here who could be responsible for anything.” +“Of course it’s my fault. There’s no-one else here who could be responsible for anything.” “No! You-Know-Who killed Hermione!” She was hardly aware of what she was saying, that she hadn’t screened the room against who might be listening. “Not you! No matter what else you could’ve done, it’s not you who killed her, it was Voldemort! If you can’t believe that you’ll go mad, Harry!” @@ -100,9 +100,9 @@ Tears were streaming down her cheeks. -“That’s what I’d tell you if I thought you could be responsible for anything. But normal people don’t choose on the basis of consequences, they just play roles. There’s a picture in your head of a stern disciplinarian and you do whatever that picture would do, whether or not it makes any sense. A stern disciplinarian would order the students back to their rooms, even if there was a troll roaming the hallways. A stern disciplinarian would order students not to leave the Hall on pain of expulsion. And the little picture of Professor McGonagall that you have in your head can’t learn from experience or change herself, so there isn’t any point to this conversation. People like you aren’t responsible for anything, people like me are, and when we fail there’s no one else to blame.” +“That’s what I’d tell you if I thought you could be responsible for anything. But normal people don’t choose on the basis of consequences, they just play roles. There’s a picture in your head of a stern disciplinarian and you do whatever that picture would do, whether or not it makes any sense. A stern disciplinarian would order the students back to their rooms, even if there was a troll roaming the hallways. A stern disciplinarian would order students not to leave the Hall on pain of expulsion. And the little picture of Professor McGonagall that you have in your head can’t learn from experience or change herself, so there isn’t any point to this conversation. People like you aren’t responsible for anything, people like me are, and when we fail there’s no-one else to blame.” -The boy strode forward to stand directly before her. His hand darted beneath his robes, brought forth the golden sphere that was the Ministry-issued protective shell of his Time Turner. He spoke in a dead, level voice without any emphasis. “This could’ve saved Hermione, if I’d been able to use it. But you thought it was your role to shut me down and get in my way. Nobody has died in Hogwarts in fifty years, you said that when you locked it, do you remember? I should’ve asked again after Bellatrix Black got loose from Azkaban, or after Hermione got framed for attempted murder. But I forgot because I was stupid. Please unlock it now before any of my other friends die.” +The boy strode forward to stand directly before her. His hand darted beneath his robes, brought forth the golden sphere that was the Ministry-issued protective shell of his Time-Turner. He spoke in a dead, level voice without any emphasis. “This could’ve saved Hermione, if I’d been able to use it. But you thought it was your role to shut me down and get in my way. Nobody has died in Hogwarts in fifty years, you said that when you locked it, do you remember? I should’ve asked again after Bellatrix Black got loose from Azkaban, or after Hermione got framed for attempted murder. But I forgot because I was stupid. Please unlock it now before any of my other friends die.” Unable to speak, she brought forth her wand and did so, releasing the time-keyed enchantment she’d laced into the shell’s lock. @@ -118,7 +118,7 @@ Albus flickered his fingers at the door behind her. “I was afraid Mr~Potter might do you some harm.” The Headmaster paused, then said quietly, “I am very surprised that you stood there and took that.” -“All I had to do was say ‘Mr~Potter’, and he would have stopped.” Her voice had dropped almost to a whisper. “Just that, and he would have stopped. And then he would have had no one to say those awful things to, no one at all.” +“All I had to do was say ‘Mr~Potter’, and he would have stopped.” Her voice had dropped almost to a whisper. “Just that, and he would have stopped. And then he would have had no-one to say those awful things to, no-one at all.” “I thought Mr~Potter’s remarks were entirely unfair and undeserved,” Albus said. @@ -278,7 +278,7 @@ “Where do new spells come from? I keep reading about someone who invented a spell to do something-or-other but there’s no mention of \emph{how}.” -A shrug of robed shoulders. “Where do new books come from, Mr~Potter? Those who read many books sometimes become able to write them in turn. How? No one knows.” +A shrug of robed shoulders. “Where do new books come from, Mr~Potter? Those who read many books sometimes become able to write them in turn. How? No-one knows.” “There are books on how to write—” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-091.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-091.tex index 3761887c1..6a23f385b 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-091.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-091.tex @@ -52,7 +52,7 @@ Hours had passed now, in the infirmary section with its closed door and a body lying in state behind it. -Harry went on staring at his wand, as it lay in his lap. At the tiny scratches and smudges on the eleven inches of holly, flaws he’d never looked closely enough to notice before. A quick mental calculation said there was no reason to worry since if this was six or seven months’ accumulation of damage, then a standard lifetime wouldn’t wear away the wand entirely. At the time, he probably would’ve worried about his own Time-Turner being taken away if he’d just openly yelled out ‘Does anyone have a Time-Turner?’ into the Great Hall, but it would have been easy enough to pre-commit to, after lunch, finding someone to send Professor Flitwick a message two hours earlier and then Professor Flitwick could’ve just gone straight to Hermione, or sent her his raven Patronus, long before the troll was anywhere near her. Or might that alternate Harry have already learned it was too late—heard about Hermione’s death after lunch and before he could buy any messages sent backwards in time? Maybe a basic guideline of working with time-travel was to make sure you never risked learning you were too late, if you hadn’t yet gone backwards. There was a tiny chemical burn now on the end of his wand, presumably from contacting the acid he’d partially Transfigured the troll’s brain into, but the wand seemed robust against losses of small amounts of wood. Really the concept of a ‘magic wand’ being required just got stranger the more you thought about it. Though if spells were always being invented in some mysterious way, new rituals being carved as new levers upon the unknown machine, it might just be that people just kept inventing rituals that involved wands, just like they invented phrases like ‘Wingardium Leviosa’. It really seemed like magic ought to be, in some sense, almost arbitrarily powerful, and it certainly would be convenient if Harry could just bypass whatever conceptual limitation prevented people from inventing spells like ‘Just Fix Everything Forever’, but somehow nothing was ever that easy where magic was concerned. Harry looked at his mechanical watch again, but it still wasn’t time. +Harry went on staring at his wand, as it lay in his lap. At the tiny scratches and smudges on the eleven inches of holly, flaws he’d never looked closely enough to notice before. A quick mental calculation said there was no reason to worry since if this was six or seven months’ accumulation of damage, then a standard lifetime wouldn’t wear away the wand entirely. At the time, he probably would’ve worried about his own Time-Turner being taken away if he’d just openly yelled out ‘Does anyone have a Time-Turner?’ into the Great Hall, but it would have been easy enough to pre-commit to, after lunch, finding someone to send Professor Flitwick a message two hours earlier and then Professor Flitwick could’ve just gone straight to Hermione, or sent her his raven Patronus, long before the troll was anywhere near her. Or might that alternate Harry have already learned it was too late—heard about Hermione’s death after lunch and before he could buy any messages sent backwards in time? Maybe a basic guideline of working with time travel was to make sure you never risked learning you were too late, if you hadn’t yet gone backwards. There was a tiny chemical burn now on the end of his wand, presumably from contacting the acid he’d partially Transfigured the troll’s brain into, but the wand seemed robust against losses of small amounts of wood. Really the concept of a ‘magic wand’ being required just got stranger the more you thought about it. Though if spells were always being invented in some mysterious way, new rituals being carved as new levers upon the unknown machine, it might just be that people just kept inventing rituals that involved wands, just like they invented phrases like ‘Wingardium Leviosa’. It really seemed like magic ought to be, in some sense, almost arbitrarily powerful, and it certainly would be convenient if Harry could just bypass whatever conceptual limitation prevented people from inventing spells like ‘Just Fix Everything Forever’, but somehow nothing was ever that easy where magic was concerned. Harry looked at his mechanical watch again, but it still wasn’t time. He’d attempted to cast the Patronus Charm, meaning to tell his Patronus to go to Hermione Granger. Just in case it was all a lie, a False Memory Charm or one of the who-knew-how-many-ways that wizards could be made to close their eyes and dream. Just in case the real Hermione was alive and being held somewhere, despite his feeling her life as it left her. Just in case there was an afterlife and the True Patronus could reach it. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-094.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-094.tex index 86400c8ef..1e98ed1ef 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-094.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-094.tex @@ -134,7 +134,7 @@ \section{The first meeting:} Slowly the fog of sleep was drifting out of Harry’s mind, and after a full night’s sleep his brain could see the things which hadn’t been obvious the day before. -Under standard literary convention…the enemy wasn’t supposed to look over what you’d done, sabotage the magic items you’d handed out, and then send out a troll rendered undetectable by some means the heroes couldn’t figure out even after the fact, so that you might as well have not defended yourself at all. In a book, the point-of-view usually stayed on the main characters. Having the enemy just bypass all the protagonists’ work, as a result of planning and actions taken out of literary sight, would be a \emph{diabolus ex machina,} and dramatically unsatisfying. +Under standard literary convention…the enemy wasn’t supposed to look over what you’d done, sabotage the magic items you’d handed out, and then send out a troll rendered undetectable by some means the heroes couldn’t figure out even after the fact, so that you might as well have not defended yourself at all. In a book, the point of view usually stayed on the main characters. Having the enemy just bypass all the protagonists’ work, as a result of planning and actions taken out of literary sight, would be a \emph{diabolus ex machina,} and dramatically unsatisfying. But in real life the enemy would think that they were the main character, and they would also be clever, and think things through in advance, even if you didn’t see them do it. That was why everything about this felt so disjointed, with parts unexplained and seemingly inexplicable. How had Lucius felt, when Harry had threatened Dumbledore with breaking Azkaban? How had the Aurors above Azkaban felt, seeing the broomstick rise up on a torch of fire? @@ -222,7 +222,7 @@ \section{The first meeting:} \latersection{The second meeting (in a small cubbyhole off the Hufflepuff Common Room):} -Neville Longbottom’s face was drawn up in anguish, as he spoke with no one to hear, to the empty air. +Neville Longbottom’s face was drawn up in anguish, as he spoke with no-one to hear, to the empty air. “Seriously,” the empty air said back to him. “I’m wearing an invisibility cloak with extra anti-detection charms just to walk through the hallways because \emph{I} don’t want to be killed. My parents would have me out of Hogwarts in an instant if the Headmaster allowed it. Neville, your getting the heck out of Hogwarts is common sense, it has \emph{nothing to do} with—” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-095.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-095.tex index d9197d2d7..fc0beef73 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-095.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-095.tex @@ -3,7 +3,7 @@ \section{The third meeting\\ (10:31\am, April 17th 1992)} -\lettrine{S}{pring} had begun, the late-morning air still crisp with the leavings of winter. Daffodils had bloomed amid the sprouting grass of the forest, the gentle yellow petals with their golden hearts dangling limply from their dead, greyed stems, wounded or killed by one of the sudden frosts that you often saw in April. In the Forbidden Forest there would be stranger lifeforms, centaurs and unicorns at the least, and Harry had heard allegations of werewolves. Though from what Harry had read of real-life werewolves, that did not make the slightest bit of sense. +\lettrine{S}{pring} had begun, the late-morning air still crisp with the leavings of winter. Daffodils had bloomed amid the sprouting grass of the forest, the gentle yellow petals with their golden hearts dangling limply from their dead, greyed stems, wounded or killed by one of the sudden frosts that you often saw in April. In the Forbidden Forest there would be stranger life-forms, centaurs and unicorns at the least, and Harry had heard allegations of werewolves. Though from what Harry had read of real-life werewolves, that did not make the slightest bit of sense. Harry didn’t venture anywhere near the border of the Forbidden Forest, since there was no reason to take the risk. He walked invisibly among the more ordinary life-forms of the permitted woods, wand in hand, a broomstick strapped to his back for easier access, just in case. He was not actually afraid; Harry thought it odd that he didn’t feel afraid. The state of constant vigilance, readiness for fight or flight, failed to feel burdensome or even abnormal. @@ -11,7 +11,7 @@ \section{The third meeting\\ Whereupon you had to wonder whether anyone had tried Confunding or Legilimizing someone into implicitly and matter-of-factly believing that \emph{Fixus Everythingus} ought to be an easy first-year Charm, and then trying to invent it. -Or maybe find a worthy Muggleborn in a country that didn’t identify Muggleborn children, and tell them some extensive lies, fake up a surrounding story and corresponding evidence, so that, from the very beginning, they’d have a different idea of what magic could do. Though apparently they’d still have to learn a number of previous Charms before they became capable of inventing their own… +Or maybe find a worthy Muggle-born in a country that didn’t identify Muggle-born children, and tell them some extensive lies, fake up a surrounding story and corresponding evidence, so that, from the very beginning, they’d have a different idea of what magic could do. Though apparently they’d still have to learn a number of previous Charms before they became capable of inventing their own… It might not work. Surely there’d been some organically insane wizards who’d truly believed in their own possibility of godhood, and yet had failed to become god. But even the insane had probably believed the ascension spell ought to be some grandiose dramatic ritual and not something you did with a carefully composed twitch of your wand and the incantation \emph{Becomus Goddus.} @@ -107,7 +107,7 @@ \section{The third meeting\\ “In all frankness, Professor, that particular thought has never occurred to me either.” -“You are Muggleborn. I speak not of blood, I speak of how you spent your childhood years. There is a freedom of thought in that, true. But there is also wisdom in the caution of wizardkind. It has been three hundred and twenty-three years since the magical territories of Sicily were ruined by one man’s folly. Such incidents were more common in the years when Hogwarts was raised. Commoner still, in the time since Merlin. Of the time before Merlin, little remains to study.” +“You are Muggle-born. I speak not of blood, I speak of how you spent your childhood years. There is a freedom of thought in that, true. But there is also wisdom in the caution of wizardkind. It has been three hundred and twenty-three years since the magical territories of Sicily were ruined by one man’s folly. Such incidents were more common in the years when Hogwarts was raised. Commoner still, in the time since Merlin. Of the time before Merlin, little remains to study.” “There’s around thirty orders of magnitude of difference between that and blowing up the Sun,” Harry observed, then caught himself. “But that’s a pointless quibble, sorry, blowing up a country would also be bad, I agree. In any case, Professor, I don’t plan on doing anything like that.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-096.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-096.tex index 8ca8cfdd6..b204bbe6d 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-096.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-096.tex @@ -39,7 +39,7 @@ “Madam Longbottom and Professor Dumbledore put their foot down hard,” said Mr~Lupin, who was looking more at Harry than at the monument. “They said that the Potters should be remembered as they had lived, not as they had died.” -Harry looked at the statue, thinking. Very strange, to see himself as a baby of stone, with no scar upon his forehead. It was a glimpse at an alternate universe, one where Harry James Potter (no Evans-Verres to his name) became an intelligent but ordinary wizarding scholar, maybe Sorted into Gryffindor like his parents. A Harry Potter who grew up a proper young wizard, knowing little of science for all that his mother was Muggleborn. Ultimately changing…not much. James and Lily wouldn’t have raised their son with what Professor Quirrell would have called \emph{ambition} and what Professor Verres-Evans would have called \emph{the common endeavour.} His birth parents would have loved him very much, and that would not have been much help to anyone in the world except Harry. If someone had undone their death— +Harry looked at the statue, thinking. Very strange, to see himself as a baby of stone, with no scar upon his forehead. It was a glimpse at an alternate universe, one where Harry James Potter (no Evans-Verres to his name) became an intelligent but ordinary wizarding scholar, maybe Sorted into Gryffindor like his parents. A Harry Potter who grew up a proper young wizard, knowing little of science for all that his mother was Muggle-born. Ultimately changing…not much. James and Lily wouldn’t have raised their son with what Professor Quirrell would have called \emph{ambition} and what Professor Verres-Evans would have called \emph{the common endeavour.} His birth parents would have loved him very much, and that would not have been much help to anyone in the world except Harry. If someone had undone their death— “You were their friend,” Harry said, turning to look at Lupin. “For a long time, since you were children.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-097.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-097.tex index 4946a35da..4e687d841 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-097.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-097.tex @@ -18,7 +18,7 @@ And so the Boy-Who-Lived had departed under the heavy guard of Mad-Eye Moody and an Auror trio for the Gringotts Central Bank; with Moody’s bright-blue eye rotating wildly in every direction, as though to signal to any possible attacker that he was On Guard and Constantly Vigilant and would cheerfully incinerate the kidneys of anyone who sneezed in the general direction of the Boy-Who-Lived. -Harry Potter watched more keenly than before, as they marched through the wide-open front doors of Gringotts, beneath the motto \emph{Fortius Quo Fidelius}. On Harry’s last three visits to Gringotts he had merely admired the marble pillars, the gold-burning torches, the architecture not quite like the human parts of magical Britain. Since then had come the Incident at Azkaban and other things; and now, on his fourth visit, Harry was thinking about the Goblin Rebellions and goblins’ ongoing resentment at not being allowed to own wands and certain facts which hadn’t been in the first-year History textbook, which Harry had guessed at by pattern-matching and which Professor Flitwick had confirmed in a very quiet voice. Lord Voldemort had killed goblins as well as wizards—an incredibly stupid move on Lord Voldemort’s part, unless Harry was really missing something—but what goblins thought of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry had no idea. Goblins had a reputation for paying what they owed and taking what they thought owed them, along with a reputation for interpreting those accounts in a somewhat prejudiced fashion. +Harry Potter watched more keenly than before, as they marched through the wide-open front doors of Gringotts, beneath the motto \emph{Fortius Quo Fidelius}. On Harry’s last three visits to Gringotts he had merely admired the marble pillars, the gold-burning torches, the architecture not quite like the human parts of magical Britain. Since then had come the Incident at Azkaban and other things; and now, on his fourth visit, Harry was thinking about the Goblin Rebellions and goblins’ ongoing resentment at not being allowed to own wands and certain facts which hadn’t been in the first-year History textbook, which Harry had guessed at by pattern matching and which Professor Flitwick had confirmed in a very quiet voice. Lord Voldemort had killed goblins as well as wizards—an incredibly stupid move on Lord Voldemort’s part, unless Harry was really missing something—but what goblins thought of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry had no idea. Goblins had a reputation for paying what they owed and taking what they thought owed them, along with a reputation for interpreting those accounts in a somewhat prejudiced fashion. Today, the guards standing upright in armour at regular intervals around the bank were staring at the Boy-Who-Lived with blank faces, and glaring at Moody and the Aurors with flashes of bitter contempt. At the stands and counters of the bank’s foyer, goblin tellers stared with equal contempt at the wizards whose hands they were filling with Galleons; one teller smiled a sharp-toothed grin at a witch who was looking angry and desperate. @@ -76,7 +76,7 @@ Now Lucius Malfoy spoke again. “For what purpose? To what end?” Even the elder Malfoy’s voice was not quite steady. “\emph{Why?}” -Harry regarded him for a moment, and then turned to Draco. “Your father’s probably not going to believe this,” Harry said. “But you, Draco, should be able to see that everything which has happened is compatible with this hypothesis. And that any more cynical hypothesis wouldn’t explain why I didn’t press you harder when you thought I had leverage, or why I taught you so much. I thought that the heir of House Malfoy, who’d been publicly seen to grab a Muggleborn girl to stop her falling off the roof of Hogwarts, would be a good compromise candidate to lead magical Britain after the reformation.” +Harry regarded him for a moment, and then turned to Draco. “Your father’s probably not going to believe this,” Harry said. “But you, Draco, should be able to see that everything which has happened is compatible with this hypothesis. And that any more cynical hypothesis wouldn’t explain why I didn’t press you harder when you thought I had leverage, or why I taught you so much. I thought that the heir of House Malfoy, who’d been publicly seen to grab a Muggle-born girl to stop her falling off the roof of Hogwarts, would be a good compromise candidate to lead magical Britain after the reformation.” “So you would have me believe,” Lucius Malfoy said in a thin voice, “that you are claiming to be mad. Well, let us leave all that aside. Tell me who set that troll on Hogwarts.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-098.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-098.tex index 2c2d08079..43c8e4dd9 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-098.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-098.tex @@ -46,7 +46,7 @@ \section{Sunday, April 19th, 6:34\pm} She just gaped. -“I \emph{did} try to help Hermione Granger,” Draco Malfoy said with a level voice. “Because I know the sickness at the heart of Slytherin’s House, the reason why so many of us can’t cast the Patronus Charm any more, is hate. Hate of Muggleborns, or just anyone really. People think that’s all Slytherin is about now, not cunning or ambition or honourable nobility. And I even know, because it’s obvious if you just look, that Hermione Granger wasn’t weak at magic.” +“I \emph{did} try to help Hermione Granger,” Draco Malfoy said with a level voice. “Because I know the sickness at the heart of Slytherin’s House, the reason why so many of us can’t cast the Patronus Charm any more, is hate. Hate of Muggle-borns, or just anyone really. People think that’s all Slytherin is about now, not cunning or ambition or honourable nobility. And I even know, because it’s obvious if you just look, that Hermione Granger wasn’t weak at magic.” Daphne’s mind had gone completely blank. Her eyes darted around nervously, just to check that there wasn’t blood coming from under the doors, like the last time Something had Broken. @@ -112,7 +112,7 @@ \section{Sunday, April 19th, 6:34\pm} Then Harry Potter began to walk back to the Ravenclaw table, and the babble of sheer, utter, reality-crashing bewilderment began to explode— -Draco Malfoy resumed tapping his spoon against his water-glass, creating a clear ringing chime. +Draco Malfoy resumed tapping his spoon against his water glass, creating a clear ringing chime. \emph{Ting.} diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-100.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-100.tex index d870d54d2..5cc9ad4f4 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-100.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-100.tex @@ -16,7 +16,7 @@ \section{May 13th, 1992.} The lights of the Hogwarts castle had diminished in the distance when Filch spoke again. “I bet you’ll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won’t you, eh?” Filch turned his head, away from the lamp, so that he could leer at the four students following him. “Oh yes…hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me…It’s just a pity they let the old punishments die out…hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I’ve got the chains still in my office, keep ’em well oiled in case they’re ever needed…” -“Hey!” Tracey said, a touch of indignation entering her voice. “I’m too young to hear about that—that sort of—you know! Especially if the chains are well-oiled!” +“Hey!” Tracey said, a touch of indignation entering her voice. “I’m too young to hear about that—that sort of—you know! Especially if the chains are well oiled!” Draco wasn’t paying attention. Filch simply wasn’t in Amycus Carrow’s league. @@ -52,7 +52,7 @@ \section{May 13th, 1992.} “I’ll be back at dawn,” said Filch, “for what’s left of them,” he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness. -“Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, listen carefully, ’cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.” +“Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, listen carefully, ’cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight an’ I don’ want no-one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.” He led them to the very edge of the Forest. Holding his lamp up high he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze blew over Draco’s head as he looked into the Forest. @@ -112,7 +112,7 @@ \section{May 13th, 1992.} Nobody said anything to this, and after a further moment, the huge man gave a sharp nod. “We’ll start our search from ’ere, the last place it struck. We’re gonna split inter two parties an’ follow the trail in diff’rent directions. Yeh two, Walt and Yuliy—yeh’ll go that way, and take Fang. There’s nothin’ that lives in the Forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with Fang. Send up green sparks if yeh find summat interestin’, an’ send up red sparks if anyone gets in trouble. Davis, Malfoy, with me.” -The Forest was black and silent. Rubeus Hagrid had dimmed the light of his umbrella after they’d set out, so that Draco and Tracey had to steer themselves by the light of the moon, not without occasional trips and falls. They walked past a mossy tree-stump, the sound of running water speaking of a stream somewhere close by. Now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver blue blood on the fallen leaves; they were following the trail of blood, toward where the creature must have first struck the unicorn. +The Forest was black and silent. Rubeus Hagrid had dimmed the light of his umbrella after they’d set out, so that Draco and Tracey had to steer themselves by the light of the moon, not without occasional trips and falls. They walked past a mossy tree stump, the sound of running water speaking of a stream somewhere close by. Now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver blue blood on the fallen leaves; they were following the trail of blood, toward where the creature must have first struck the unicorn. “There’s rumours about yeh,” Hagrid said in a low voice after they’d walked for a while. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-101.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-101.tex index ca19a58b1..a45a2be6d 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-101.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-101.tex @@ -80,7 +80,7 @@ The Defence Professor stopped, looking at Harry, who had raised one trembling hand to his mouth. -“Well,” the Defence Professor said then, “I have made my point, and you may think on it. Centaur spears can block many spells, but no one tries to block if they see that the spell is a certain shade of green. For this purpose it is useful to know some green stunning hexes. Really, Mr~Potter, you should understand by now how I operate.” +“Well,” the Defence Professor said then, “I have made my point, and you may think on it. Centaur spears can block many spells, but no-one tries to block if they see that the spell is a certain shade of green. For this purpose it is useful to know some green stunning hexes. Really, Mr~Potter, you should understand by now how I operate.” The Defence Professor came nearer the centaur’s body, and Harry took an involuntary step back, then another, at the terrible rising sense of \emph{STOP, DON’T—} diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-102.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-102.tex index 2cb17fbe4..637d55bf1 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-102.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-102.tex @@ -121,7 +121,7 @@ \section{June 3rd, 1992.} Even the grief surrounding Harry like thick water gave way to that, to the sheer magnitude of the missed opportunity. “I was supposed to—? I didn’t know I was supposed to—!” -Another coughing chuckle. “Ah yes…the unknowing Muggleborn…in heritage if not in blood…that is you. But I thought…better of it…that you should not walk my path…it was not a good path, in the end.” +Another coughing chuckle. “Ah yes…the unknowing Muggle-born…in heritage if not in blood…that is you. But I thought…better of it…that you should not walk my path…it was not a good path, in the end.” “It’s not too late, Professor!” Harry said. A part of Harry yelled that he was being selfish, and then another part shouted that down; there would be other people to help. @@ -239,7 +239,7 @@ \section{June 3rd, 1992.} It had come up much earlier, before the Trial, in conversation with Hermione; when she’d said something about magical Britain being Prejudiced, with considerable and recent justification. And Harry had thought—but not said—that at least she’d been let into Hogwarts to be spat upon. -Not like certain people living in certain countries, who were, it was \emph{said}, as human as anyone else; who were \emph{said} to be sapient beings, worth more than any mere unicorn. But who nonetheless wouldn’t be allowed to live in Muggle Britain. On that score, at least, no Muggle had the right to look a wizard in the eye. Magical Britain might discriminate against Muggleborns, but at least it allowed them inside so they could be spat upon in person. +Not like certain people living in certain countries, who were, it was \emph{said}, as human as anyone else; who were \emph{said} to be sapient beings, worth more than any mere unicorn. But who nonetheless wouldn’t be allowed to live in Muggle Britain. On that score, at least, no Muggle had the right to look a wizard in the eye. Magical Britain might discriminate against Muggle-borns, but at least it allowed them inside so they could be spat upon in person. \emph{What is deadlier than hate, and flows without limit?} diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-103.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-103.tex index c78e5a020..72374540c 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-103.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-103.tex @@ -88,7 +88,7 @@ \section{June 4th, 1992.} After some pondering, Harry wrote down: -\emph{Dear Ministry marker: I’m afraid the real answer to that is a secret, but rest assured that a Bogeysnake would present no more trouble to me than a mountain troll, a Dementor, or You-Know-Who. Please inform your superiors that I find your standard answer prejudicial to Muggleborns, and that I expect this failing will be corrected at once without any need for my direct intervention.} +\emph{Dear Ministry marker: I’m afraid the real answer to that is a secret, but rest assured that a Bogeysnake would present no more trouble to me than a mountain troll, a Dementor, or You-Know-Who. Please inform your superiors that I find your standard answer prejudicial to Muggle-borns, and that I expect this failing will be corrected at once without any need for my direct intervention.} \emph{Sincerely, the Boy-Who-Lived.} diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-104.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-104.tex index 43f51a8c3..f33a4e38a 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-104.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-104.tex @@ -357,7 +357,7 @@ \section{June 13th, 1992.} “That explains it,” said Daphne Greengrass. “Um, is there \emph{actually} a Susan Bones, or is the House dying out so they had you secretly—” -The red-haired form of Susan Bones had a palm to her face. “Yes, Miss~Greengrass, there’s a real Susan Bones. She only sends me in when \emph{you} lot are about to get into ridiculous amounts of trouble. Professor Snape, the reason I’m here is because Draco Malfoy was missing, and this lot \emph{insisted} on trying to find him instead of calling the Aurors. For reasons the real Miss~Bones said there was no time to explain to me, which I now realize were stupid. But young students must never go alone, and must be accompanied by a sixth or seventh year at all times. And now we found Draco Malfoy and we can all go back. Please? Before this gets any more ridiculous?” +The red-haired form of Susan Bones had a palm to her face. “Yes, Miss~Greengrass, there’s a real Susan Bones. She only sends me in when \emph{you} lot are about to get into ridiculous amounts of trouble. Professor Snape, the reason I’m here is because Draco Malfoy was missing, and this lot \emph{insisted} on trying to find him instead of calling the Aurors. For reasons the real Miss~Bones said there was no time to explain to me, which I now realize were stupid. But young students must never go alone, and must be accompanied by a sixth- or seventh-year at all times. And now we found Draco Malfoy and we can all go back. Please? Before this gets any more ridiculous?” “\emph{What in Merlin’s name is going on here?}” @@ -417,7 +417,7 @@ \section{June 13th, 1992.} Professor Sprout and the form of Susan Bones were duelling in flashes of light and leaves; and the blazing green of a Greater Drill Hex erupted from mid-air and chewed halfway through the outer layer of Professor Sprout’s shields. The Herbology Professor turned and fired a broad wash of yellow at where the Drill Hex had come from, but the spell didn’t seem to hit anything. -Yellow blazes, blue facets, dark green plant-tendrils and swirling purple flower petals… +Yellow blazes, blue facets, dark green plant tendrils and swirling purple flower petals… It was when Professor Sprout started firing arcs of crimson in all directions that one of the crimson blades caught something in mid-air, the Invisibility Cloak not concealing how the crimson arc was absorbed and winked out; and Lesath’s presence beneath the Invisibility Cloak fell to the ground. @@ -514,7 +514,7 @@ \section{June 13th, 1992.} Professor Snape had said that the Headmaster had sent him to guard the door after there’d been some sort of \emph{disturbance}, if the mastermind had caused that as a distraction then that explained Severus’s presence as well. -Harry wasn’t sure any more that Draco had been controlled by the mastermind, that hypothesis had come to him in the spur of the moment, Draco might have just been trying to drop not-Susan so he could get into the corridor unhindered— +Harry wasn’t sure any more that Draco had been controlled by the mastermind, that hypothesis had come to him on the spur of the moment, Draco might have just been trying to drop not-Susan so he could get into the corridor unhindered— No that was the wrong way to think, turn it around, try to \emph{explain} the timed presence of Draco and his adventuring party, no time for self-questioning, \emph{run with the hypothesis,} therefore suppose Sprout’s mastermind had sent Draco or triggered his coming. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-107.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-107.tex index 5cabb6607..bb57096d4 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-107.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-107.tex @@ -84,7 +84,7 @@ “Go on ahead,” said Professor Quirrell. “It’s safe now.” -Harry walked forward, needing to invoke his dark side’s cognitive patterns in order to maintain calm enough to do it. Harry stepped over the glowing edges of the remaining part of the door, and gazed at a chessboard of ruined huge chess-pieces. The alternating tiles of black and white marble on the floor started five metres after the ruined doorway, and extended from wall to wall, but stopped five metres short of the next door on the opposite side of the room. The ceiling was significantly higher than any of the statues should have been able to reach. +Harry walked forward, needing to invoke his dark side’s cognitive patterns in order to maintain calm enough to do it. Harry stepped over the glowing edges of the remaining part of the door, and gazed at a chessboard of ruined huge chess pieces. The alternating tiles of black and white marble on the floor started five metres after the ruined doorway, and extended from wall to wall, but stopped five metres short of the next door on the opposite side of the room. The ceiling was significantly higher than any of the statues should have been able to reach. “I would guess,” Harry said, and his dark side’s cognitive patterns kept his voice calm, “that the intended solution is to fly over the statues using the broomstick from the previous room, since it wasn’t actually needed to get the key?” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-108.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-108.tex index e312f1fe2..a8652cdc2 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-108.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-108.tex @@ -294,7 +294,7 @@ Harry breathed deeply, trying to maintain control. “Were there any other secret plots in this school year?” -“Oh, a fair number, but not many more that concern you, not that I can think of offhand. The true reason I demanded to try to teach the Patronus Charm to first-years was to bring a Dementor before your own person, and then I arranged for your wand to fall where the Dementor could continue to drain you through it. \parsel{Was no malice in it, only hopes that you would recover some of your true memories.} That was also why I arranged for certain witches to pull you down from the air during your rooftop episode, so I could appear to save your life; just in case any suspicion fell on me during the Dementor incident I had scheduled for shortly after. \parsel{Also no malice there.} I arranged some of the attacks on Miss~Granger’s group, so that the attacks could be defeated; I do rather dislike bullies. \parsel{Think that is all secret plots concerning you from this school-year, unless I have forgotten something.}” +“Oh, a fair number, but not many more that concern you, not that I can think of offhand. The true reason I demanded to try to teach the Patronus Charm to first-years was to bring a Dementor before your own person, and then I arranged for your wand to fall where the Dementor could continue to drain you through it. \parsel{Was no malice in it, only hopes that you would recover some of your true memories.} That was also why I arranged for certain witches to pull you down from the air during your rooftop episode, so I could appear to save your life; just in case any suspicion fell on me during the Dementor incident I had scheduled for shortly after. \parsel{Also no malice there.} I arranged some of the attacks on Miss~Granger’s group, so that the attacks could be defeated; I do rather dislike bullies. \parsel{Think that is all secret plots concerning you from this school year, unless I have forgotten something.}” \emph{Life lesson learned,} said his Hufflepart. \emph{Try to resist the temptation to randomly meddle in other people’s lives. Like, you know, Padma Patil’s life. If you don’t want to end up like this, that is.} diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-109.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-109.tex index 3b5959a0c..3566b6ca6 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-109.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-109.tex @@ -84,7 +84,7 @@ \chapter{Reflections} Words like \emph{crikey} and what his parents would have termed inappropriate language were all running through Harry’s head, none very coherently, as he stared at the golden back of the Mirror. -“I have wandered the world and encountered many stories that are not often heard,” said Professor Quirrell. “Most of them seemed to me to be lies, but a few had the ring of history rather than storytelling. Upon a wall of metal in a place where no one had come for centuries, I found written the claim that some Atlanteans foresaw their world’s end, and sought to forge a device of great power to avert the inevitable catastrophe. If that device had been completed, the story claimed, it would have become an absolutely stable existence that could withstand the channelling of unlimited magic in order to grant wishes. And also—this was said to be the vastly harder task—the device would somehow avert the inevitable catastrophes any sane person would expect to follow from that premise. The aspect I found interesting was that, according to the tale writ upon those metal plates, the rest of Atlantis ignored this project and went upon their ways. It was sometimes praised as a noble public endeavour, but nearly all other Atlanteans found more important things to do on any given day than help. Even the Atlantean nobles ignored the prospect of somebody other than themselves obtaining unchallengeable power, which a less experienced cynic might expect to catch their attention. With relatively little support, the tiny handful of would-be makers of this device laboured under working conditions that were not so much dramatically arduous, as pointlessly annoying. Eventually time ran out and Atlantis was destroyed with the device still far from complete. I recognise certain echoes of my own experience that one does not usually see invented in mere tales.” A twist in the dry smile. “But perhaps that is merely my own preference for one tale among a hundred other legends. You perceive, however, the echo of Merlin’s statement about the Mirror’s creators shaping it to not destroy the world. Most importantly for our purposes, it may explain why the Mirror would have the previously unknown capability that Dumbledore or Perenelle seems to have evoked, of showing any person who steps before it an illusion of a world in which one of their desires has been fulfilled. It is the sort of sensible precaution you can imagine someone building into a wish-granting creation meant to not go horribly wrong.” +“I have wandered the world and encountered many stories that are not often heard,” said Professor Quirrell. “Most of them seemed to me to be lies, but a few had the ring of history rather than storytelling. Upon a wall of metal in a place where no-one had come for centuries, I found written the claim that some Atlanteans foresaw their world’s end, and sought to forge a device of great power to avert the inevitable catastrophe. If that device had been completed, the story claimed, it would have become an absolutely stable existence that could withstand the channelling of unlimited magic in order to grant wishes. And also—this was said to be the vastly harder task—the device would somehow avert the inevitable catastrophes any sane person would expect to follow from that premise. The aspect I found interesting was that, according to the tale writ upon those metal plates, the rest of Atlantis ignored this project and went upon their ways. It was sometimes praised as a noble public endeavour, but nearly all other Atlanteans found more important things to do on any given day than help. Even the Atlantean nobles ignored the prospect of somebody other than themselves obtaining unchallengeable power, which a less experienced cynic might expect to catch their attention. With relatively little support, the tiny handful of would-be makers of this device laboured under working conditions that were not so much dramatically arduous, as pointlessly annoying. Eventually time ran out and Atlantis was destroyed with the device still far from complete. I recognise certain echoes of my own experience that one does not usually see invented in mere tales.” A twist in the dry smile. “But perhaps that is merely my own preference for one tale among a hundred other legends. You perceive, however, the echo of Merlin’s statement about the Mirror’s creators shaping it to not destroy the world. Most importantly for our purposes, it may explain why the Mirror would have the previously unknown capability that Dumbledore or Perenelle seems to have evoked, of showing any person who steps before it an illusion of a world in which one of their desires has been fulfilled. It is the sort of sensible precaution you can imagine someone building into a wish-granting creation meant to not go horribly wrong.” “Wow,” Harry whispered, and meant it. This was Magic with a capital M, the sort of Magic that appeared in \emph{So You Want To Be A Wizard,} not just a collection of random physics-violating things you could do with a wand. @@ -238,7 +238,7 @@ \chapter{Reflections} “No, Ariana,” the man said, smiling gently, “I fear I must go now. Be patient, my dearest, it will be soon enough that I join you in truth…why? Why, I am not sure why I must go…when I hold the Stone I am to step aside from the Mirror and wait for Master Flamel to contact me, but I am not sure why I need to step aside from the Mirror to do that…” The man sighed. “Ah, I am getting old. It is well this dreadful war ended when it did. I suppose there is no harm if I speak to you for a time, my dearest, if you wish it so.” -A headache was starting behind Harry’s eyes; some part of Harry was trying to send a message about not having breathed in a while, but no one was listening. \emph{Imperfect}, Professor Quirrell’s Confundus Charm had been imperfect, Professor Quirrell’s image of Dumbledore’s image of Ariana wanted to talk to Dumbledore, and maybe didn’t want to wait because Professor Quirrell knew on some level that there wasn’t really an afterlife, and the previously implanted impulse to leave after getting the Stone \emph{wasn’t standing up to Riddle-Ariana’s arguments…} +A headache was starting behind Harry’s eyes; some part of Harry was trying to send a message about not having breathed in a while, but no-one was listening. \emph{Imperfect}, Professor Quirrell’s Confundus Charm had been imperfect, Professor Quirrell’s image of Dumbledore’s image of Ariana wanted to talk to Dumbledore, and maybe didn’t want to wait because Professor Quirrell knew on some level that there wasn’t really an afterlife, and the previously implanted impulse to leave after getting the Stone \emph{wasn’t standing up to Riddle-Ariana’s arguments…} And then Harry felt himself become very calm. He started breathing again. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-111.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-111.tex index 357db6187..6234a3b3f 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-111.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-111.tex @@ -43,7 +43,7 @@ The Dark Lord was now consulting what he’d called the Hogwarts Map, the handwritten lines upon it seeming to move as they walked. Some part of Harry’s mind that had been considering what to do if they ran into Aurors on patrol (whom the Dark Lord could kill, or Obliviate, in an instant) gave up that hope as well. -They went down the Grand Staircase to the second floor, encountering no one. +They went down the Grand Staircase to the second floor, encountering no-one. The Dark Lord made a turn Harry did not know, and went down another stair-flight. As they descended past one floor and another, the windows stopped and the torches began, they were within the Slytherin dungeons now. @@ -53,7 +53,7 @@ Harry followed. -A sixth or seventh-year Slytherin was waiting by a section of wall that was set with an artistic carving of Salazar Slytherin wielding his wand, against what looked like a giant covered in icicles. The witch made no comment at seeing Professor Quirrell walking upright, or seeing Harry in his company, or seeing the gun in the Defence Professor’s hand. If her eyes were blank, Harry couldn’t tell the difference. +A sixth- or seventh-year Slytherin was waiting by a section of wall that was set with an artistic carving of Salazar Slytherin wielding his wand, against what looked like a giant covered in icicles. The witch made no comment at seeing Professor Quirrell walking upright, or seeing Harry in his company, or seeing the gun in the Defence Professor’s hand. If her eyes were blank, Harry couldn’t tell the difference. The Dark Lord reached into his robes, took out a Knut, and flipped it to her. “Klaudia Alicja Tabor, I command you thus. Take this Knut to the spell circle I showed you beneath the Quidditch stands and put it in the centre. Then Obliviate yourself of the last six hours.” @@ -99,7 +99,7 @@ \emph{Problem two,} said Gryffindor. \emph{Harry Potter isn’t missing, he’s right there at the Quidditch match where everyone can see him. Professor Quirrell thought of that too, it’s part of why he sent that fake note. Problem three. I don’t think Mad-Eye Moody and an Auror squad can beat the Dark Lord, and certainly not before he kills us. I’m not sure the entire DMLE can beat the Dark Lord if he’s fighting seriously and Dumbledore is gone. Problem four. The Quidditch match was not disrupted, that’s probably the only reason why Professor Quirrell was willing to try something as complicated as bringing us along on this trip in the first place.} -\emph{Thinking along different lines,} ventured Slytherin, \emph{maybe Professor Quirrell calls in someone else to Memory-Charm us}. \emph{Legilimency, Imperius, Confundus, who knows what else, we’re not a perfect Occlumens. Then the Dark Lord would have a smart—well, sort-of smart lieutenant that he could use. That could be another reason why Professor Quirrell was so willing to tell us secrets, if he knew that the memory would disappear. It’s also a reason to leave the Hogwarts wards, so the Dark Lord can call Bellatrix to Apparate in and do the work…} +\emph{Thinking along different lines,} ventured Slytherin, \emph{maybe Professor Quirrell calls in someone else to Memory-Charm us}. \emph{Legilimency, Imperius, Confundus, who knows what else, we’re not a perfect Occlumens. Then the Dark Lord would have a smart—well, sort of smart lieutenant that he could use. That could be another reason why Professor Quirrell was so willing to tell us secrets, if he knew that the memory would disappear. It’s also a reason to leave the Hogwarts wards, so the Dark Lord can call Bellatrix to Apparate in and do the work…} \emph{This entire reasoning process is illegitimate and I refuse to participate,} said Ravenclaw. @@ -125,7 +125,7 @@ The Dark Lord was moving on through the stony corridor. His hand still held the gun. He was at least four metres away from Harry. -\emph{If we dart forward, he will sense us approaching through the resonance,} said Hufflepuff. \emph{He will fly forward rapidly, he can do that, he has the broomstick-enchantments that let him fly. He will fly forward, turn around, and fire the gun. He knows about the resonance, he’s thought of this already. This is not something the Dark Lord has failed to consider. He will be ready for it, and waiting.} +\emph{If we dart forward, he will sense us approaching through the resonance,} said Hufflepuff. \emph{He will fly forward rapidly, he can do that, he has the broomstick enchantments that let him fly. He will fly forward, turn around, and fire the gun. He knows about the resonance, he’s thought of this already. This is not something the Dark Lord has failed to consider. He will be ready for it, and waiting.} \emph{Continuing the same line of argument,} said the last voice. \emph{Suppose we can freely cast magic on Professor Quirrell but he can’t cast it on us.} @@ -303,7 +303,7 @@ It didn’t look like Hermione. A Hermione Granger should be standing up and talking, she should have her Hogwarts uniform. -Voldemort raised a hand, then hissed, as though in annoyance. With a violent gesture, the robes around Quirinus Quirrell’s sleeping from were torn in half, his purple-and-green tie shredded, and his suit-jacket drawn from him to where Voldemort stood. Some part of Harry flinched, as if seeing the Dark Lord Voldemort attacking Professor Quirrell. +Voldemort raised a hand, then hissed, as though in annoyance. With a violent gesture, the robes around Quirinus Quirrell’s sleeping from were torn in half, his purple-and-green tie shredded, and his suit jacket drawn from him to where Voldemort stood. Some part of Harry flinched, as if seeing the Dark Lord Voldemort attacking Professor Quirrell. Voldemort plunged his hand deliberately into the suit jacket, which jerked as though something were being broken; then Voldemort shook out the suit jacket onto the ground beside him, emptying out the contents. Harry’s pouch fell from it, and his Time-Turner, and a broomstick, and Voldemort’s gun, and the Cloak, and a number of amulets and rings and stranger devices that Harry did not recognize. @@ -395,7 +395,7 @@ Moments later, Harry cried out and took a step back. -Huge and misshapen, lumpy skin, legs thick as tree-trunks, a small head that looked like a coconut perched upon a boulder. +Huge and misshapen, lumpy skin, legs thick as tree trunks, a small head that looked like a coconut perched upon a boulder. A mountain troll stood within the circle of obelisks, motionless as though asleep while standing. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-112.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-112.tex index 75d62b21a..0cdabf643 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-112.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-112.tex @@ -28,7 +28,7 @@ “Are,” what “are you sure,” what. -“\parsel{Dare not say specifics to you. Prophecy I heard of myself led me to fulfil it. Have not forgotten that disaster.}” Voldemort backed further away from Harry, red slitted eyes fixed upon the Boy-Who-Lived, gun unwavering in the left hand. “\parsel{All this, all I have done, is to smash that destiny at every point of intervention. If some fate makes me fail in what comes next, idiot-child of foretold destruction, then you must kill yourself to save girl-child. Else all you claim to value dies by your own hand.}” +“\parsel{Dare not say specifics to you. Prophecy I heard of myself led me to fulfil it. Have not forgotten that disaster.}” Voldemort backed further away from Harry, red-slitted eyes fixed upon the Boy-Who-Lived, gun unwavering in the left hand. “\parsel{All this, all I have done, is to smash that destiny at every point of intervention. If some fate makes me fail in what comes next, idiot-child of foretold destruction, then you must kill yourself to save girl-child. Else all you claim to value dies by your own hand.}” “I,” Harry’s voice went up an octave, “I,” another octave, “I \emph{really really wouldn’t do that, seriously!}” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-113.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-113.tex index e733bac6f..f351647ef 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-113.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-113.tex @@ -122,7 +122,7 @@ \chapter{End-of-year Exam} “I did not do that to be funny,” Voldemort said coldly. “We are dealing with a \emph{prophecy}, fools. We are snipping the threads of destiny one by one; carefully, carefully, not knowing when we may first encounter resistance. This is the order in which the next acts shall be done. First Harry Potter shall be stunned, then his limbs severed and the wounds cauterized. Mr~Friendly and Mr~Honour will examine him for any trace of unusual magics. One of you shall shoot the boy many times with my Muggle weapon, and then as many of you as can shall strike him with the Killing Curse. Only then will Mr~Grim crush his skull and brains with the mundane substance of a tombstone. I shall verify his corpse, then his corpse shall be burned with Fiendfyre, then we will exorcise the surrounding area in case he has left a ghost. I myself will guard this place until six hours have passed, for I do not fully trust the wards I have set against Time’s looping; and four of you shall search the surroundings for signs of anything noteworthy. Even after that we must remain vigilant for any sign of Harry Potter’s renewed presence, in case Dumbledore has left some unimagined trick in play. If you can think of any trick that I have missed in being sure that Harry Potter’s threat is ended, speak now and I shall reward you handsomely…speak now, in Merlin’s name!” -There was stunned silence amid the cemetery; no one made to speak. +There was stunned silence amid the cemetery; no-one made to speak. “Useless, the lot of you,” Voldemort said with bitter scorn. “Now I shall ask Harry Potter one final question, and he is to answer that question for my ears alone, in Parseltongue. Strike the boy down at once if he answers with anything but hisses, if he tries to speak one word of human speech.” Then Voldemort hissed, “\parsel{Power I know not, it was said that you would have. The Muggle Arts I have now learned of from you, and I am already studying them. Your power over life-eaters must be comprehended for oneself, or so you say. If there is any other power you possess, that I may come to have, tell me of it now. Else, I intend to torment certain of those you care for. Some lives I have already promised you, but others I did not. Your mudblood servants in your little army. Your precious parents. All shall suffer for what will seem to them like eternities; and then I shall send them, broken, into the life-eater prison to remember it, until they waste and die. For each unknown power you tell me how to master, or other secret you tell me that I desire to know, you may name one more of those to instead be protected and honoured under my reign. This also I promise and intend to keep.}” Voldemort’s smiling expression now came through as if it were a snake’s gaping fangs, and the meaning that expression bore among snakes, a promise that whoever beheld the teeth was to be consumed by them. “\parsel{Waste not time in thoughts of escape, if you care for those ones. You have sixty seconds to begin telling me something I wish to know, and then your death begins.}” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-115.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-115.tex index e68b3c109..5412d7cc8 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-115.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-115.tex @@ -76,7 +76,7 @@ The answer to that also felt obvious, if it wasn’t just the part of Harry that still cared about Professor Quirrell doing the real talking. -Harry had needed to do the thing he’d done, it \emph{had} prevented greater evils, Harry couldn’t have stopped Voldemort if the Death Eaters had fired first. But that thing Harry had done wasn’t something that could be balanced by a not-necessary tragedy happening to one more sentient being, even if that being was Voldemort. It would just be one more element of the sorrows of ancient Earth so long ago. +Harry had needed to do the thing he’d done, it \emph{had} prevented greater evils, Harry couldn’t have stopped Voldemort if the Death Eaters had fired first. But that thing Harry had done wasn’t something that could be balanced by an unnecessary tragedy happening to one more sentient being, even if that being was Voldemort. It would just be one more element of the sorrows of ancient Earth so long ago. The past was past. You did what you had to do, and you didn’t do one scrap of harm more than that. Not even to balance things out, and make it all symmetrical. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-117.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-117.tex index 0f8134e82..7f478c5ee 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-117.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-117.tex @@ -74,11 +74,11 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Minerva McGonagall} The world blurred around Harry, he barely saw Padma Patil rise up and make her way toward the Slytherin table and Draco, or Seamus heading towards Theodore. -And because Harry had read his father’s science fiction and fantasy collection, because he had already read this scene a dozen times over when it happened to other protagonists, there was an image in Harry’s mind of Mad-Eye Moody, of the scarred man called Alastor. And Mad-Eye’s image was saying, in just the same voice he’d used to speak to Albus Dumbledore in memory, that the Death Eaters had been pointing their wands at Harry, that they had already chosen to take the Dark Mark, that they had been guilty of sins beyond reckoning and maybe beyond Harry’s imagination, that they had foregone the deontological protection of good people and made themselves targets if there was a strong reason to sacrifice them. That it had been necessary to save Harry’s innocent parents from torture and Azkaban, that it had been necessary to protect the world from Voldemort. That plain old ordinary Aurors and judges had to do much more morally questionable things than killing sworn and blooded Death Eaters who were pointing wands at them, in the course of carrying out ordinary justices that were less clear-cut but still necessary to society. If it were not right to do what Harry had done, if it were not right to do much \emph{more} morally ambiguous things than what Harry had done, then society as human beings knew it could not exist. Nobody with common sense would blame Harry for doing it, Neville wouldn’t blame him, Professor McGonagall wouldn’t blame him, Dumbledore wouldn’t blame him, even Hermione would tell him it had been the right thing to do once she knew. +And because Harry had read his father’s science-fiction and fantasy collection, because he had already read this scene a dozen times over when it happened to other protagonists, there was an image in Harry’s mind of Mad-Eye Moody, of the scarred man called Alastor. And Mad-Eye’s image was saying, in just the same voice he’d used to speak to Albus Dumbledore in memory, that the Death Eaters had been pointing their wands at Harry, that they had already chosen to take the Dark Mark, that they had been guilty of sins beyond reckoning and maybe beyond Harry’s imagination, that they had foregone the deontological protection of good people and made themselves targets if there was a strong reason to sacrifice them. That it had been necessary to save Harry’s innocent parents from torture and Azkaban, that it had been necessary to protect the world from Voldemort. That plain old ordinary Aurors and judges had to do much more morally questionable things than killing sworn and blooded Death Eaters who were pointing wands at them, in the course of carrying out ordinary justices that were less clear-cut but still necessary to society. If it were not right to do what Harry had done, if it were not right to do much \emph{more} morally ambiguous things than what Harry had done, then society as human beings knew it could not exist. Nobody with common sense would blame Harry for doing it, Neville wouldn’t blame him, Professor McGonagall wouldn’t blame him, Dumbledore wouldn’t blame him, even Hermione would tell him it had been the right thing to do once she knew. And all of this was true. -Just as it was also true that some part of Harry’s mind had calculated that wiping out the blood purist political elite would make it easier and more convenient to rebuild magical Britain afterwards. It hadn’t been an important consideration, but it had still been calculated in those instants of rapid thought, a check on the long-term consequences to see if they rated as catastrophic, and a decision that they actually rated as pretty much okay. And that check had forgotten that Death Eaters had children at Hogwarts or that one of them wore the face of Draco’s father. It wouldn’t have changed anything. It wouldn’t have changed anything at all. But that was the truth of the calculation Harry’s mind had performed, given only seconds to think. +Just as it was also true that some part of Harry’s mind had calculated that wiping out the blood-purist political elite would make it easier and more convenient to rebuild magical Britain afterwards. It hadn’t been an important consideration, but it had still been calculated in those instants of rapid thought, a check on the long-term consequences to see if they rated as catastrophic, and a decision that they actually rated as pretty much okay. And that check had forgotten that Death Eaters had children at Hogwarts or that one of them wore the face of Draco’s father. It wouldn’t have changed anything. It wouldn’t have changed anything at all. But that was the truth of the calculation Harry’s mind had performed, given only seconds to think. At least Harry could, if the Death Eaters’ survivors were in any sort of financial trouble, do something about that easily enough. Transfigure gold, and use the Stone to make it permanent—unless making that much gold would be troublesome to the wizard economy at large, or cause objections from goblins who didn’t understand market monetarist economics—though it wasn’t as though Harry didn’t also have useful services to sell— diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-118.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-118.tex index 6b7f4fbc4..2a6a49729 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-118.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-118.tex @@ -26,7 +26,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Professor Quirrell} “Then Professor Quirrell went out to face the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord killed Professor Quirrell. And Hermione Granger came back to life. They say she’s alive and whole now, and maybe something more. When the Dark Lord tried to seize her, all that was left of him afterwards was his burned robes and his hands around Miss~Granger’s throat. Just as Harry Potter was protected from the Killing Curse by his mother’s love and sacrifice, Professor Quirrell willingly going out, to face, the Dark Lord alone, must have called, Hermione Granger’s spirit, back from, from wherever, she was—” Oliver’s voice was breaking. -“Not just like that,” Harry said from the front row of seats, his own voice hoarse. He \emph{had} to say something at this point, before it got out of control. If it wasn’t already out of control. “David Monroe was a powerful wizard, more powerful than anyone knew except him and me. I don’t think you can bring someone back from the dead just by sacrificing yourself. No one should try doing it that way.” +“Not just like that,” Harry said from the front row of seats, his own voice hoarse. He \emph{had} to say something at this point, before it got out of control. If it wasn’t already out of control. “David Monroe was a powerful wizard, more powerful than anyone knew except him and me. I don’t think you can bring someone back from the dead just by sacrificing yourself. No-one should try doing it that way.” Such a beautiful story. It should have been true. \emph{It should have been true.} @@ -48,6 +48,6 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Professor Quirrell} “\emph{Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!}” -No one stayed silent this time, not a single student that Harry could see. +No-one stayed silent this time, not a single student that Harry could see. % LocalWords: Habryka diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-119.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-119.tex index 8767ac23f..3e02bd23d 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-119.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-119.tex @@ -189,7 +189,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Albus Dumbledore} There can only be one piece whose value is beyond price. -That piece is not the world, it is the world’s peoples, wizard and Muggle alike, goblins and house-elves and all. +That piece is not the world, it is the world’s peoples, wizard and Muggle alike, goblins and house elves and all. While survives any remnant of our kind, that piece is yet in play, though the stars should die in heaven. @@ -312,7 +312,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Albus Dumbledore} “Excuse me,” Headmistress McGonagall said, sounding quite precise and Scottish. “Is there any reason why Mr~Potter cannot simply instruct the Line that Madam Bones is his regent for the position of Chief Warlock, but not anything having to do with the Department of Mysteries, until he comes of age? If Albus could tell the Line to appoint a regent only until Voldemort’s defeat, it is clearly capable of following complex orders.” -Slowly, this unexpected hammer-blow of common sense was absorbed by everyone present. +Slowly, this unexpected hammer blow of common sense was absorbed by everyone present. Harry opened his mouth to agree to appoint Amelia Bones his regent for Wizengamot-related matters, and then hesitated again. @@ -408,7 +408,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Albus Dumbledore} “I would have thought so too when I was your age, dear,” said Amelia. “It is the sixth strangest thing I have ever seen.” -“You see, son?” said Moody. “This sort of thing is why nobody, even me, can ever be paranoid enough.” The scarred man tilted his head, looking thoughtful, as his bright blue eye kept ever-roving. “Twin brother, concealed from the rest of the world? Walpurga Black gave birth to twins, couldn’t bear to kill one, knew old Pollux would demand it…nah, ain’t buyin’ it.” +“You see, son?” said Moody. “This sort of thing is why nobody, even me, can ever be paranoid enough.” The scarred man tilted his head, looking thoughtful, as his bright-blue eye kept ever-roving. “Twin brother, concealed from the rest of the world? Walpurga Black gave birth to twins, couldn’t bear to kill one, knew old Pollux would demand it…nah, ain’t buyin’ it.” “Any ideas, Mr~Potter?” said Amelia Bones. “Or is this another matter into which my Department should not inquire too closely?” @@ -500,7 +500,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Albus Dumbledore} Moody reached over and tapped it with his wand, and then his throat made an incomprehensible sound. -“That’s your starting budget, Alastor, if you need money right away. Nicholas Flamel didn’t make the Philosopher’s Stone, he stole it, Dumbledore didn’t know the secret history but Monroe did. Once you know how it works, the Stone can do one complete restoration to full health and youth every two hundred and thirty-four seconds. Three hundred sixty people per day. One hundred and thirty-four thousand healings per year. That should be enough to stop, all the wizards everywhere, and all the goblins and house-elves and whoever, from dying. Of old age, or anything else.” Harry was wiping away tears, over and over. “Flamel had more blood on his hands than a hundred Voldemorts, for all the people he could’ve saved and didn’t. The whole time, Moody, the Philosopher’s Stone could’ve healed all your scars and given you back your leg, any time Flamel felt like it. Dumbledore didn’t know. I’m sure he didn’t know.” Harry smiled shakily. “I can’t imagine you as a teenage witch, Madam Bones, but I bet it looks good on you. That’ll give you more energy for trying to keep the Wizengamot from messing with me, because if they get the idea that the Stone is something they can mess with in any way, tax, regulate, I don’t care, Hogwarts is going to secede from Britain and become its own country. Headmistress, Hogwarts is no longer dependent on the Ministry for gold, or for that matter food. You may reform the educational curriculum at will. I’m thinking we may want to add some more advanced courses soon, especially in Muggle studies.” +“That’s your starting budget, Alastor, if you need money right away. Nicholas Flamel didn’t make the Philosopher’s Stone, he stole it, Dumbledore didn’t know the secret history but Monroe did. Once you know how it works, the Stone can do one complete restoration to full health and youth every two hundred and thirty-four seconds. Three hundred sixty people per day. One hundred and thirty-four thousand healings per year. That should be enough to stop, all the wizards everywhere, and all the goblins and house elves and whoever, from dying. Of old age, or anything else.” Harry was wiping away tears, over and over. “Flamel had more blood on his hands than a hundred Voldemorts, for all the people he could’ve saved and didn’t. The whole time, Moody, the Philosopher’s Stone could’ve healed all your scars and given you back your leg, any time Flamel felt like it. Dumbledore didn’t know. I’m sure he didn’t know.” Harry smiled shakily. “I can’t imagine you as a teenage witch, Madam Bones, but I bet it looks good on you. That’ll give you more energy for trying to keep the Wizengamot from messing with me, because if they get the idea that the Stone is something they can mess with in any way, tax, regulate, I don’t care, Hogwarts is going to secede from Britain and become its own country. Headmistress, Hogwarts is no longer dependent on the Ministry for gold, or for that matter food. You may reform the educational curriculum at will. I’m thinking we may want to add some more advanced courses soon, especially in Muggle studies.” “Slow \emph{down!}” said Minerva McGonagall. @@ -514,7 +514,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Albus Dumbledore} Transfiguring antimatter was just one idea. It wasn’t even the most destructive idea. There were also black holes and negatively charged strangelets. And if black holes couldn’t be Transfigured because they didn’t \emph{already exist} as magic defined that to within some spatial radius, there was just Transfiguring lots and lots of nuclear weapons and Black Death plague that could reproduce before the Transfiguration wore off and Harry hadn’t even thought about the problem for five minutes but it didn’t matter because he’d already thought of enough. Someone would think of it, someone would talk, someone would try it. The probability was as close to certainty as made no difference. -What happened if you Transfigured a cubic millimetre of up quarks, just the up quarks without any down quarks to bind them? Harry didn’t even know, and up quarks were certainly a kind of substance that already existed. All it might take was one single Muggleborn who knew the names of the six quarks deciding to try it. That could \emph{be} the clock ticking down to the prophesied end of the world. +What happened if you Transfigured a cubic millimetre of up quarks, just the up quarks without any down quarks to bind them? Harry didn’t even know, and up quarks were certainly a kind of substance that already existed. All it might take was one single Muggle-born who knew the names of the six quarks deciding to try it. That could \emph{be} the clock ticking down to the prophesied end of the world. Harry would have tried to deny the thought, rationalize it away. diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-121.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-121.tex index 13945f8a7..80dd3f149 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-121.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-121.tex @@ -18,7 +18,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Severus Snape} \emph{He knows.} The thought came to Harry, and he couldn’t have said in words just \emph{what} the Potions Master now knew; except that it was clear that Severus knew it. -“Severus…” Headmistress McGonagall began. Her voice sounded hollow. “Professor Severus Snape, you may not realize how difficult it is to find Potions Masters who can safely teach Muggleborns, or Professors sharp enough to keep Slytherin House in any semblance of order…” +“Severus…” Headmistress McGonagall began. Her voice sounded hollow. “Professor Severus Snape, you may not realize how difficult it is to find Potions Masters who can safely teach Muggle-borns, or Professors sharp enough to keep Slytherin House in any semblance of order…” Again the man inclined his head. “I think it need not be said to you, Headmistress, but I recommend in the strongest possible terms that the next Head of Slytherin be nothing like me.” diff --git a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-122.tex b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-122.tex index f53e6e4f9..b43119d89 100644 --- a/chapters/hpmor-chapter-122.tex +++ b/chapters/hpmor-chapter-122.tex @@ -7,7 +7,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Hermione Granger} The stone terrace-platform where Harry now sat would be high enough to see the dawn beyond the hills below; he’d asked for that, when he was describing his new office. -Harry was currently sitting cross-legged on a cushion, chilly pre-morning breezes stirring over his exposed hands and face. He’d ordered the house-elves to bring up the hand-glittered throne from his previous office as General Chaos…and then he’d told the elves to put it back, once it had occurred to Harry to start worrying about where his taste in decorations had come from and whether Voldemort had once possessed a similar throne. Which, itself, wasn’t a knockdown argument—it wasn’t like sitting on a glittery throne to survey the lands below Hogwarts was \emph{unethical} in any way Harry’s moral philosophy could make out—but Harry had decided that he needed to take time and think it through. Meanwhile, simple cushions would do well enough. +Harry was currently sitting cross-legged on a cushion, chilly pre-morning breezes stirring over his exposed hands and face. He’d ordered the house elves to bring up the hand-glittered throne from his previous office as General Chaos…and then he’d told the elves to put it back, once it had occurred to Harry to start worrying about where his taste in decorations had come from and whether Voldemort had once possessed a similar throne. Which, itself, wasn’t a knockdown argument—it wasn’t like sitting on a glittery throne to survey the lands below Hogwarts was \emph{unethical} in any way Harry’s moral philosophy could make out—but Harry had decided that he needed to take time and think it through. Meanwhile, simple cushions would do well enough. In the room below, connected to the rooftop by a simple wooden ladder, was Harry’s new office inside Hogwarts. A wide room, surrounded by full-wall windows on four sides for sunlight; currently bare of furnishings but for four chairs and a desk. Harry had told Headmistress McGonagall what he was looking for, and Headmistress McGonagall had put on the Sorting Hat and then told Harry the series of twists and turns that would take him where he wanted to be. High enough in Hogwarts that the castle shouldn’t have been that tall, high enough in Hogwarts that nobody looking from the outside would see a piece of castle corresponding to where Harry now sat. It seemed like an elementary precaution against snipers that there was no reason \emph{not} to take. @@ -45,7 +45,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Hermione Granger} It was like watching a videotape of an almost-traffic-accident that had happened to you, where you remembered another car missing you by centimetres, and the video showing that somebody had \emph{also} thrown a pebble in exactly the right way to cause an enormous lorry to miss that near-collision, and if they hadn’t thrown that pebble then you and all your family in the car and your \emph{entire planet} would have been hit by the lorry, which, in the metaphor, represented your own \emph{sheer obliviousness.} -Harry had been \emph{warned,} he’d \emph{known} on some level or the Vow wouldn’t have stopped him, and yet he’d \emph{still} almost made the wrong choice and destroyed the world. Harry could look back now and see that, yes, the alternate-Harry with no Vow would’ve had trouble accepting the reasoning that said you couldn’t get magical healing to Muggles as fast as possible. If the alternate-Harry had acknowledged the danger at all, he would have rationalized it, tried to figure out some clever way around the problem and refused to accept \emph{taking a few years longer to do it,} and so the world would have ended. Even after all the warnings Harry had received, it \emph{still} wouldn’t have worked without the Unbreakable Vow. +Harry had been \emph{warned,} he’d \emph{known} on some level or the Vow wouldn’t have stopped him, and yet he’d \emph{still} almost made the wrong choice and destroyed the world. Harry could look back now and see that, yes, the alternate Harry with no Vow would’ve had trouble accepting the reasoning that said you couldn’t get magical healing to Muggles as fast as possible. If the alternate Harry had acknowledged the danger at all, he would have rationalized it, tried to figure out some clever way around the problem and refused to accept \emph{taking a few years longer to do it,} and so the world would have ended. Even after all the warnings Harry had received, it \emph{still} wouldn’t have worked without the Unbreakable Vow. One tiny strand of Time, being threaded through a needle’s eye. @@ -169,7 +169,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Hermione Granger} \emph{Thank you, Miss~Granger.} Harry was glad she’d said that much, though, it just wouldn’t have felt like Hermione otherwise. -“So, Mr~Potter,” said Hermione Granger, tapping her fingers on her robe at around thigh level. “After the medi-witch drew my blood, it stopped hurting right away, and when I brushed away the little bit of blood on my arm, I couldn’t find where the needle had poked me. I bent some of the metal in my bed frame without trying hard, and though I haven’t had a chance to test it yet, I feel like I should be able to run really \emph{fast.} My fingernails are pearly-white and shiny even though I don’t remember painting them. And my teeth look like that too, which, being the daughter of dentists, makes me nervous. So it’s not that I’m ungrateful, but just what exactly did you do?” +“So, Mr~Potter,” said Hermione Granger, tapping her fingers on her robe at around thigh level. “After the medi-witch drew my blood, it stopped hurting right away, and when I brushed away the little bit of blood on my arm, I couldn’t find where the needle had poked me. I bent some of the metal in my bed frame without trying hard, and though I haven’t had a chance to test it yet, I feel like I should be able to run really \emph{fast.} My fingernails are pearly white and shiny even though I don’t remember painting them. And my teeth look like that too, which, being the daughter of dentists, makes me nervous. So it’s not that I’m ungrateful, but just what exactly did you do?” “Um,” Harry said. “And I’m expecting you’re also wondering why you’re radiating an aura of purity and innocence?” @@ -327,7 +327,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Hermione Granger} Hermione Granger was making some sort of high-pitched noise that would, in a less organic device, have indicated an engine malfunction. “\emph{I have two months to study for my O.W.L.s?}” -“Hermione, it’s a test designed so that most fifteen-year-olds can pass. \emph{Ordinary} fifteen year-olds. We can get a passing grade with a low third-year’s power level if we learn the right set of spells, and that’s all we need for our majorities. Though you’ll need to come to terms with getting Acceptable scores instead of your usual Outstandings.” +“Hermione, it’s a test designed so that most fifteen-year-olds can pass. \emph{Ordinary} fifteen-year-olds. We can get a passing grade with a low third-year’s power level if we learn the right set of spells, and that’s all we need for our majorities. Though you’ll need to come to terms with getting Acceptable scores instead of your usual Outstandings.” The high-pitched noises coming from Hermione Granger rose in pitch. @@ -401,7 +401,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Hermione Granger} “Just the obvious one,” Hermione said, kicking her legs slightly over the rooftop’s edge. “I thought maybe when You-Know-Who died right next to you, he happened to give off the burst of magic that makes a ghost, and some of it imprinted on your brain instead of the floor. But that never felt right to me, like it was just a clever explanation that wasn’t actually \emph{true,} and it makes even less sense if You-Know-Who didn’t really die that night.” -“Good enough,” Harry said. “Let’s imagine that scenario for now.” His inner rationalist was looking back and face-palming \emph{again} at how he’d managed to not-think-about hypotheses like that one. It wasn’t true but it was \emph{reasonable} and Harry had never thought of any causal model that concrete, just vaguely suspected a connection. +“Good enough,” Harry said. “Let’s imagine that scenario for now.” His inner rationalist was looking back and face-palming \emph{again} at how he’d managed to not think about hypotheses like that one. It wasn’t true but it was \emph{reasonable} and Harry had never thought of any causal model that concrete, just vaguely suspected a connection. Hermione nodded. “You probably know this already, but I just thought I’d say it to be sure: you’re not Voldemort, Harry.” @@ -433,7 +433,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Hermione Granger} The two of them shared a companionable nod, both of them looking more relaxed now, and watched the sunrise together. -“I’ve been thinking,” Harry said, his own voice going soft, “about the alternate Harry Potter, the person I might have been if Voldemort hadn’t attacked my parents.” \emph{If Tom Riddle hadn’t tried to copy himself onto me.} “That other Harry Potter wouldn’t have been as smart, I guess. He probably wouldn’t have studied much Muggle science, even if his mother was a Muggleborn. But that other Harry Potter would’ve had…the capacity for warmth, that he inherited from James Potter and Lily Evans, he would’ve cared about other people and tried to save his friends, I know that would have been true, because that’s something that Lord Voldemort never did, you see…” Harry’s eyes were watering. “So that part must be the remnant.” +“I’ve been thinking,” Harry said, his own voice going soft, “about the alternate Harry Potter, the person I might have been if Voldemort hadn’t attacked my parents.” \emph{If Tom Riddle hadn’t tried to copy himself onto me.} “That other Harry Potter wouldn’t have been as smart, I guess. He probably wouldn’t have studied much Muggle science, even if his mother was a Muggle-born. But that other Harry Potter would’ve had…the capacity for warmth, that he inherited from James Potter and Lily Evans, he would’ve cared about other people and tried to save his friends, I know that would have been true, because that’s something that Lord Voldemort never did, you see…” Harry’s eyes were watering. “So that part must be the remnant.” The Sun was well above the horizon now, the golden light illuminating both of them, casting long shadows off the other side of the rooftop platform. @@ -449,7 +449,7 @@ \chapter{Something to Protect: Hermione Granger} “You’re really enjoying this alternate universe, aren’t you.” -“Maybe he’d be best mates with Ron Weasley, the \emph{smartest} boy in Gryffindor, and they’d fight side by side in my army in Defence class, and afterwards help each other with their homework—” +“Maybe he’d be best mates with Ron Weasley, the \emph{smartest} boy in Gryffindor, and they’d fight side-by-side in my army in Defence class, and afterwards help each other with their homework—” “Okay, enough, this is starting to creep me out.” diff --git a/hp-epigraphs.tex b/hp-epigraphs.tex index ef35c1ac1..da3f92766 100644 --- a/hp-epigraphs.tex +++ b/hp-epigraphs.tex @@ -10,7 +10,7 @@ \chapter{Disclaimers and Epigraphs} \filbreak --- 1 --- -Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, and no one owns the methods of rationality. +Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, and no-one owns the methods of rationality. \begin{em} Beneath the moonlight glints a tiny fragment of silver, a fraction of a line{\ldots} @@ -25,7 +25,7 @@ \chapter{Disclaimers and Epigraphs} \texttt{\#include "stddisclaimer.h"} -"\emph{Of course it was my fault. There’s no one else here who could be responsible for anything.}" +"\emph{Of course it was my fault. There’s no-one else here who could be responsible for anything.}" \filbreak --- 3 --- @@ -58,7 +58,7 @@ \chapter{Disclaimers and Epigraphs} \filbreak --- 7 --- -Whoa. A spokesman for Rowling’s literary agent said that Rowling is okay with the existence of fanfiction as long as no one charges for it and everyone’s clear that the original copyrights belong to her? That’s really cool of her. So thank you, JKR, and thine is the kingdom! +Whoa. A spokesman for Rowling’s literary agent said that Rowling is okay with the existence of fanfiction as long as no-one charges for it and everyone’s clear that the original copyrights belong to her? That’s really cool of her. So thank you, JKR, and thine is the kingdom! "\emph{Your dad is almost as awesome as my dad.}" @@ -193,7 +193,7 @@ \chapter{Disclaimers and Epigraphs} \filbreak --- 29 --- -Unfortunately, no one can be told who J. K. Rowling is. You have to see her for yourself. +Unfortunately, no-one can be told who J. K. Rowling is. You have to see her for yourself. \filbreak --- 30 --- diff --git a/spelling-list.txt b/spelling-list.txt index c4d12defd..73eef3230 100644 --- a/spelling-list.txt +++ b/spelling-list.txt @@ -685,3 +685,4 @@ pæan phœnix’s phœnix æons +manœuvre