Eliezer Yudkowsky

The pacing of the story is that of serial fiction, i.e., that of a TV show running for a predetermined number of seasons, whose episodes are individually plotted but with an overall arc building to a final conclusion.

All science mentioned is real science. But please keep in mind that, beyond the realm of science, the views of the characters may not be those of the author. Not everything the protagonist does is a lesson in wisdom

and advice offered by darker characters may be untrustworthy or dangerously double

This is the living-room of the house occupied by the eminent Professor Michael Verres-Evans, and his wife, Mrs. Petunia Evans-Verres, and their adopted son, Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres.

Rowling owns Harry Potter, and no one owns the methods of rationality.
This fic is widely considered to have really hit its stride starting at around Chapter 5. If you still don't like it after Chapter 10, give up.
Please visit HPMOR DOT COM for:
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* Links to TV Tropes page and discussion forum;
* Trigger warnings page (warnings about possible traumatic associations for some readers; to avoid spoilers for most readers, there are nowarnings inside the main story);

owns Harry Potter, and no one owns the methods of rationality.
This fic is widely considered to have really hit its stride starting at around Chapter 5. If you still don't like it after Chapter 10, give up.
Please visit HPMOR DOT COM for:
* Easy email notification system, RSS feed, and Twitter feed for new chapters;
* Current Author's Notes and progress updates;
* Lovely fan-made book-style PDF version;
* Ad-free mirror of the text;
* ePUB and MOBI e-texts;
* Ongoing podcast of the story;
* Fan art in vast quantities;
* Fan-fanfiction of this fanfiction;
* Fan music, songs, and animations;
* Fan translations;
* The OKCupid keyword for HPMOR readers;
* Links to TV Tropes page and discussion forum;
* Trigger warnings page (warnings about

" The voice caught, and came back quieter. "And then you can go, I suppose. Only tell me - why -"
Maybe she shouldn't've answered; maybe she should've just turned and fled, or better yet, cast a Prismatic Wall first and then screamed at the top of her lungs as she ran; but it was the note of real pain in the voice that caught her, and so she answered.
"Because you look incredibly dark and scary and suspicious," Hermione said, keeping her voice polite, as her wand stayed level on the towering black cloak and the faceless black mist.
"That's all?" whispered the voice incredulously

. All fair things does it desire to destroy."

"You're joking," Michael said to Petunia

James Potter-Evans-Verres.
Harry added their current address, then folded up the letter and put it in an envelope, which he addressed to Hogwarts. Further consideration led him to obtain a candle and drip wax onto the flap of the envelope, into which, using a penknife's tip, he impressed the initials H.J.P.E.V. If he was going to descend into this madness, he was going to do it with style.
Then he opened his door and went back downstairs. His father was sitting in the living-room and reading a book of higher math to show how smart he was; and his mother was in the kitchen preparing one of his father's favorite dishes to show how loving she was. It didn't look like they were talking to one another at all. As scary as arguments could be, not arguing was somehow much worse.
"Mum," Harry said into the unnerving silence, "I'm going to test the hypothesis. According to your theory, how do I send an owl to Hogwarts?"
His mother turned from the kitchen sink to stare at him, looking shocked. "I - I don't know, I think you just have to own a magic owl."
That should've sounded highly suspicious, oh, so there's no way to test your theory then, but the peculiar certainty in Harry seemed willing to stick its neck out even further.
"Well, the letter got here somehow," Harry said, "so I'll just wave it around outside and call 'letter for Hogwarts!' and see if an owl picks it up. Dad, do you want to come watch?"
His father shook his head minutely and kept on reading. Of course, Harry thought to himself. Magic was a disgraceful thing that only stupid people believed in; if his father went so far as to test the hypothesis, or even watch it being tested, that would feel like associating himself with that...
Only as Harry stumped out the back door, into the backyard, did it occur to him that if an owl did come down and snatch the letter, he was going to have some trouble telling Dad about it.
But - well - that can'treallyhappen, can it? No matter what my brain seems to believe. If an owl really comes down and grabs this envelope, I'm going to have worries a lot more important than what Dad thinks.
Harry took a deep breath, and raised the envelope into the air.

aka Moke Super Pouch QX31