Now listen, witches and wizards young;
Of Harry Potter I tell,
Who studied Muggle and magic lore —
The equation and the spell.

His strength was the skill of a rationalist,
In his quest it would serve him well,
As he stared down elders and demons alike,
As he faced the darkness fell.

    -- I. The Fundamental Attribution Error

A boy walked through the streets of stone
Beneath a magic veil.
In anonymity concealed
He eyed the goods for sale.

The shops and stores with enchanted doors!
He couldn't help but stare.
In colors and smells and hawkers' yells,
'Twas magic filled the air.

Through this the young magician passed,
Through endless sights to behold,
But one shop he could not ignore
For books were what it sold.

Minerva stepped before him then;
She said they ought not stay.
And knowing that her words were true,
He sadly stepped away.

And there that day in Diagon,
Beneath the summer sun,
The young boy asked the witch to tell
Of how the war was won.

She spoke of a nation and Ministry
Transfixed by unnamed fears,
And tales of death and sacrifice
That brought the boy to tears.

To Godric's Hollow he had come,
The Dark Lord Voldemort,
To James and Lily Potter's house
And killed them both for sport.

A scream! A laugh! A bright green flash!
So ended was the war.
And on the infant Harry's head
Was burned a lightning scar.

This Harry could not now recall,
So long ago the day
When Voldemort had fallen at last
And the Potters passed away.

And yet the few who saw through the veil,
Who knew Harry Potter was he —
They wept and knelt and touched his hand,
As if his were the victory.

"They shouldn't thank me," he complained.
"Perhaps — for who can say —
'Twas circumstance killed You-Know-Who,
Not who I am today."

But still he was the Boy Who Lived,
Whom Britain owed a debt,
And whether or not it was his to take
They would not soon forget.

And if it chanced that Voldemort
Was not completely dead,
Then hope for Britain, in the end,
Would rest on Harry's head.

'Twas bright and warm in Diagon;
No lightning filled the sky.
Young Harry walked beneath the sun
And watched the clouds go by.

    -- II. Humanism

A boy walked through the forest path,
A young girl by his side.
And soon among the winter trees
They reached a clearing wide.

A cage there was of metal strong,
With Aurors three before.
Beside a phoenix silver-bright
Stood Albus Dumbledore.

Then there it was, the hooded cloak,
Within the bars confined,
And Harry thought he felt a touch
Of cold upon his mind.

"Expecto Patronum," Goldstein spoke,
And from his wand raised high
Burst forth a shining bird of light
That gave a piercing cry.

Then all too soon came Harry's turn;
He stepped up to the cage.
What lay beneath the cloak inside
His mind refused to gauge.

He drew upon his fullest strength,
For darkness he would face.
Remembered visions came to him
Of stars in deepest space.

For they burned vast and unafraid
Amidst the silent void.
They could have held the fear at bay,
But that he grew annoyed.

On anger the Dementor fed,
And he began to fall,
Until of warm and happy thoughts
Not one was left at all.

Then in that mind as cold as death
The memory did arise
Of bolts of deadly emerald light
And snakelike crimson eyes.

But suddenly he tasted sweet;
His mouth began to chew.
Around him people talked and stared
Debating what to do.

The young boy watched with eyes of hate
And told them they should die.
Though how to save him none was sure,
The girl knew she must try.

She grabbed him — touched her lips to his —
His face showed utter shock —
The boy pushed her away — and then
They heard a phoenix squawk.

For Fawkes blazed bright in evening light;
Its song was warm and good.
Young Harry heard the shining bird
And thought he understood.

It leapt into the air and screamed
A cry like breaking dawn,
And with a flash of brilliant flame
The golden bird was gone.

The setting sun threw shadows long
Of trees upon the ground.
And Harry saw the riddle now;
Its answer he had found.

For now he knew his foe to be
A shadow Death did cast,
That one day would be but a tale
From savage ages past.

So once again he came before
The cage of metal bars;
Again he saw the timeless void
And bright unblinking stars.

But this time in the jeweled black
He placed the blue-green Earth,
The only home that mankind knew,
The planet of its birth.

Yet humankind would spread from Earth,
To worlds uncharted fly,
Fulfill the dreams of wondering apes
Who first had watched the sky.

And when men strode from star to star,
Their footsteps light-years wide,
Then children young would weep to hear
That people once had died.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry roared;
The thought of Death undone
Took on a shining silver form,
Blazed brighter than the sun.

Its shape was human, standing tall
Upon the winter ground,
Its head that looked toward the cage
In brilliant radiance crowned.

It seemed that as the warm light waned
He from a dream awoke,
And Harry saw behind the bars
An empty tattered cloak.

    -- III. The Stanford Prison Experiment

A boy walked through the metal halls
Of mighty Azkaban,
That had on storm-swept rock been built
By man to punish man.

But it was not just wizardkind,
It was not only spells,
That guarded this accursed place,
These dark and dreadful cells.

Dementors dwelt in Azkaban,
In hellish pits below,
And anything that happened here
The shades of Death would know.

Yet Harry saw their secrets now,
And his Patronus shone
With light that blinded Death itself —
A power his alone.

And in their cells the inmates stirred
With hope as Harry passed,
Their darkness briefly lifted by
The spell that he had cast.

Ahead Professor Quirrell walked,
His body not his own;
For Bella Black they'd stolen from
Her cage of steel and stone.

But Bellatrix believed that she
To her old master spoke,
And what she said a righteous wrath
In Harry's mind awoke.

The silver man blazed brighter yet,
Surpassed the light of day,
That healing warmth might touch these halls
And Death be burned away.

Then came a voice, an outstretched hand —
A piercing sense of doom —
And fading brilliance left the hall
In sudden twilit gloom.

For now did Harry see that if
He did what seemed so right,
His magic would consume his life
To fuel its silver light.

And though he'd lost a part of him
That could not be replaced,
He had to follow Quirrell on;
They had no time to waste.

But even then it was too late,
For down the winding stair
An Auror came, in robes of red,
Shields sparkling in the air.

Where Harry lay, concealed from sight,
He watched the duel commence,
As Quirrell's wordless spells assailed
The Auror's best defense.

Then Harry heard the Killing Curse
Beginning to be cast,
And his Patronus moved to block
The deadly emerald blast.

And Quirrell screamed — he threw his wand
Across the metal floor —
His form became a serpent green
That fell and moved no more.

Into the sudden quiet did
The battered Auror call —
And then the Boy Who Lived himself
Emerged into the hall.

As Harry watched the man approach
He whispered "Somnium",
And saw the elder wizard to
A child's spell succumb.

Yet now with his Patronus gone
The cold and dark prevailed,
And having lost the taste of hope,
He feared that he had failed.

But Harry could not trust those thoughts,
For once he'd caught his breath,
He saw behind that stark despair
The icy hand of Death.

And bias he could overcome,
The darkness he could fight;
He found again the Earth and stars —
And there was silver light.

Then he awakened Bellatrix;
The dormant snake she bore,
And they began to walk back down
The shattered corridor.

As they descended Harry heard
The inmates cry and yell,
A din that Quirrell, while he led,
Had silenced with a spell.

And though his heart inside him screamed,
Still Harry did not dare
To give his life to conquer Death,
To end it then and there.

And so they passed each block of cells,
Each padlocked metal door,
Continued down the dungeon stairs
Toward the deepest floor.

But then did Albus Dumbledore
Find Harry in his flight;
For his resplendent phoenix tracked
The True Patronus bright.

So Harry sought inside himself,
As Dumbledore drew near,
The part that quailed before the dark
In deep unspoken fear.

He sheltered it in light and warmth,
He offered it his hand;
And, newly strengthened, even Death
He knew he could withstand.

He gave to Bellatrix his Cloak
To hide her from Death's eyes;
Then his Patronus he dismissed,
And stood without disguise.

But though he'd foiled Dumbledore,
A greater threat drew near,
For twelve Dementors now approached
Amidst a storm of fear.

And even as he stared them down,
Expecting them to halt,
They came still closer, keeping up
Their pitiless assault.

So Harry raised his wand and thought
Of that cold winter day
When Death had gone to Hogwarts school
And never come away.

Of that he spoke, while with his wand
He took a careful aim —
And then the shadows seemed to turn,
Retreated whence they came.

And soon, concealed within a cell,
He plotted their escape,
As piece by piece, beneath his wand,
A strange device took shape.

A chunk of metal wall slid down
And thudded to the floor;
And sunlight shone in through a hole
Where none had been before.

But Harry started in surprise
When from the emerald snake
There came a weak and quiet hiss —
For Quirrell was awake.

Then quickly Harry told him what
His gadget was to do,
And Quirrell, in his human form,
Transfigured it anew.

Again did Bella bear the snake;
They grasped the wooden broom,
And shot into the midday light,
Emerging from the gloom.

Between the walls of Azkaban
The broomstick upward surged,
As guards above and Death below
Against its flight converged.

And as the Aurors' counter-jinx
Disabled magic flight,
He thumbed the Muggle rocket switch
And felt the fuel ignite.

On flame undimmed by ward or spell
They shot into the sky,
Through winter chill and airy clouds
Toward the sun so high.