Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

When her rapidly racing feet turned the corner her mind took in the whole scene at a glance, three huge boys in green-trimmed robes already turning to look at her, and one shorter and smaller boy in yellow, who was dangling in the air from one foot held up high by an invisible hand.

The Sunshine General didn't even think about it, people who stopped to think didn't spring very good ambushes.

Her wand was in her hand, her fingers did the twist and her lips said "Somnium!" and the largest bully fell over, the Hufflepuff boy dropped out of the air with a thump and the other two bullies were trying to aim their wands at her and she said "Somnium!" again and another huge boy keeled over - the one who'd been aiming his wand faster, that was who she'd fired at.

Unfortunately casting two Sleep Hexes in a row like that was hard even for her, and she couldn't get off a third before -

The last bully shouted "Protego!" and was surrounded by a shimmering blue glow.

Twenty-four hours ago, Hermione would have panicked at that, a real Shielding Charm would let the bully-boy cast spells on her even while he was protected.

Now she -

"Stupefy!" shouted the bully-boy.

The crimson bolt blasted toward her with a terrible brilliance, blazing far brighter than any hex that had sprung from Harry's wand.

Hermione swayed slightly to the left, and the bolt missed, because the bully's aim hadn't been nearly as good as Harry's; and the thought came to her that maybe bullies and Professor Quirrell's armies didn't mix.

"Stupefy!" shouted the bully-boy again. "Expelliarmus! Stupefy!"

Anyway, now she'd just spent a whole hour thinking of all the other spells she could've cast on Harry and Neville -

"Jellyfy!" yelled the bully-boy, a wide-beam jinx with no visible bolt to dodge, and her knees suddenly felt almost too weak to support her. And then, with an angry roar producing an even brighter blaze of crimson, "Stupefy!"

She dodged that one by deliberately falling, and by then she'd recovered enough for her next spell, which was -

"Glisseo," said Hermione, directing her remark to the floor.

"Oof," said the bully-boy as his feet went out from under him and he actually dropped his wand.

The Protego winked out.

"Somnium," said Hermione.

She was still breathing in gasps as she crawled over to where the Hufflepuff boy was sitting up, and groaning and rubbing his skull where he'd been dropped head-first into the floor; it was a good thing he hadn't been a Muggle, Hermione realized, or he might have snapped his neck. She hadn't actually thought of that.

"Uh," said the boy, his hair was of a color that would've been called 'brunette' if he was a girl, his eyes an undistinguished brown that somehow seemed just right for Hufflepuff, there weren't any tears on his face but he looked sort of pale. She pegged him at about fourth year, or third.

Then the brown eyes widened as he focused on her. "General Sunshine?"

"Yeah," she said. "That's (gasp) me." If the Hufflepuff boy said anything about her being Harry Potter's love interest, she decided, he was going to die.

"Wow," said the Hufflepuff boy. "That was - you just - I mean I saw you on the screens before Christmas but - wow! I can't believe you just did that!"

There was a pause.

I can't believe I just did that, thought Hermione Granger, who was feeling a little faint all of a sudden, it must have been all that running. "Excuse (gasp) me," she said, "can you (gasp) Unjellyfy my legs?"

The boy nodded, pushed himself to his feet, and reached inside his robes for his wand; but Hermione had to correct his gesture before the counter-Jinx worked right.

"I'm Michael Hopkins," said the boy once Hermione had rolled back to her own feet. He stuck out his hand. "Or just Mike inside Hufflepuff, there aren't any other Mikes in all of Hufflepuff this year, would you believe it?"

They shook hands, and Mike said, "Anyway, thank you."

Hermione wasn't prepared for the rush of euphoria that hit her then, saving someone like that literally felt better than anything she'd ever felt in her whole life.

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 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 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 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.