‘“Yes, Professor, I did the sensible thing,” the boy said levelly. “As adapted to the circumstances, I did the sensible thing. I told Professor Quirrell. And according to Professor Quirrell, that portkey goes to somewhere in London - it’s definitely not strong enough to be an international portkey. Now it’s possible that the person who sent the note is honest, and that the point in London is just a way station.” The boy reached into his robes and took out a deck of cards, along with a folded paper note. “I will trust you not to go in guns blazing - I mean wands blazing - just in case the sender is an ally of mine, if not yours. But if this is a trap, I say we spring it now. And whoever it is, take them alive so we can exhibit them before the Wizengamot, I cannot overemphasize that part.”

Severus rose from his chair, his eyes now intent, and moved toward Harry. “I’ll need a hair of yours for Polyjuice, Mr. Potter -“

“Let us not be hasty!” said Albus. “We have not yet examined the notes sent to Miss Granger; there may be no resemblance after all. Severus, would you enter her dorm room and see if you can find those?”

Harry Potter’s eyebrows had raised, even as he stood to offer the Potions Master better access to his mess of hair. “You think two different people are running around Hogwarts leaving notes beneath pillows?”’

In a way, Darwin discovered God—a God that failed to match the preconceptions of theology, and so passed unheralded. If Darwin had discovered that life was created by an intelligent agent—a bodiless mind that loves us, and will smite us with lightning if we dare say otherwise—people would have said “My gosh! That’s God!”

But instead Darwin discovered a strange alien God—not comfortably “ineffable”, but really genuinely different from us. Evolution is not a God, but if it were, it wouldn’t be Jehovah. It would be H. P. Lovecraft’s Azathoth, the blind idiot God burbling chaotically at the center of everything, surrounded by the thin monotonous piping of flutes.