Tricking AIDungeon’s GPT-3 model into writing HPMOR:
You start reading Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality by Eliezer Yudkowsky:
” “It said to me,” said Professor Quirrell, “that it knew me, and that it would hunt me down someday, wherever I tried to hide.” His face was rigid, showing no fright. ”Ah,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t worry about that, Professor Quirrell.” It’s not like Dementors can actually talk, or think; the structure they have is borrowed from your own mind and expectations... Now everyone was giving him very strange looks. The Aurors were glancing nervously at each other, at the Dementor, at Harry. And they stood directly before the Dementor’s cage. ”They are wounds in the world,” Harry said. “It’s just a wild guess, but I’m guessing the one who said that was Godric Gryffindor.” ″Yes...” said Dumbledore. “How did you know?” It is a common misconception, thought Harry, that all the best rationalists are Sorted into Ravenclaw, leaving none for other Houses. This is not so; being Sorted into Ravenclaw indicates that your strongest virtue is curiosity, wondering and desiring to know the true answer. And this is not the only virtue a rationalist needs. Sometimes you have to work hard on a problem, and stick to it for a while. Sometimes you need a clever plan for finding out. And sometimes what you need more than anything else to see an answer, is the courage to face it... Harry’s gaze went to what lay beneath the cloak, the horror far worse than any decaying mummy. Rowena Ravenclaw might also have known, for it was an obvious enough riddle once you saw it as a riddle. And it was also obvious why the Patronuses were animals. The animals didn’t know, and so were sheltered from the fear. But Harry knew, and would always know, and would never be able to forget. He’d tried to teach himself to face reality without flinching, and though Harry had not yet mastered that art, still those grooves had been worn into his mind, the learned reflex to look toward the painful thought instead of away. Harry would never be able to forget by thinking warm happy thoughts about something else, and that was why the spell hadn’t worked for him. So Harry would think a warm happy thought that wasn’t about something else. Harry drew forth his wand that Professor Flitwick had returned to him, put his feet into the beginning stance for the Patronus Charm. Within his mind, Harry discarded the last remnants of the peace of the phoenix, put aside the calm, the dreamlike state, remembered instead Fawkes’s piercing cry, and roused himself for battle. Called upon all the pieces and elements of himself to awaken. Raised up within himself all the strength that the Patronus Charm could ever draw upon, to put himself into the right frame of mind for the final warm and happy thought; remembered all bright things. The books his father had bought him. Mum’s smile when Harry had handmade her a mother’s day card, an elaborate thing that had used half a pound of spare electronics parts from the garage to flash lights and beep a little tune, and had taken him three days to make. Professor McGonagall telling him that his parents had died well, protecting him. As they had. Realizing that Hermione was keeping up with him and even running faster, that they could be true rivals and friends. Coaxing Draco out of the darkness, watching him slowly move toward the light. Neville and Seamus and Lavender and Dean and everyone else who looked up to him, everyone that he would have fought to protect if anything threatened Hogwarts. Everything that made life worth living. His wand rose into the starting position for the Patronus Charm. Harry thought of the stars, the image that had almost held off the Dementor even without a Patronus. Only this time, Harry added the missing ingredient, he’d never truly seen it but he’d seen the pictures and the video....
Harry thought of the image of his family, Mum and Dad and Liliana, standing outside the house on Gardiners Street, smiling at him. He thought of them in the back garden of that house, laughing as he chased the gnomes, and that was his final warm and happy thought. And Harry cast the Patronus Charm. A burst of silver erupted from the end of his wand and took the form of a deer, shining brightly. ...His mother’s eyes. And the final piece clicked into place. Harry’s mind was flooded with warmth, and the world seemed to still. Time itself seemed to stop, sound itself ceased to be of concern to Harry, all that remained was himself, and the terrible terrible void that surrounded him. But even as he felt himself begin to be pulled into it, a new force intervened. A new shape of white, a beautiful silver serpent, coiled around him, protecting him from the darkness. The beautiful creature seemed to both give off warmth and energy, while also absorbing it from the void itself. Harry felt himself pulled backward, away from the Dementor, and he found himself in the dark halls of Azkaban, being shielded by his wonderful silver Patronus. ...He thought of the night sky, of the moon, shining down upon him and his friends, and the stars beyond. His wand began to glow. “Expecto Patronum!” The glow burst from the tip of his wand and formed into a shape, and the shape was glowing white like a shadowless bright light, yet it had form and shape and figure, and that shape was the shadow of the memory of a star. ...He thought of the sunlight. Of warm air and a bright sky. Of happy people and happy times. Of hope and joy. Of a future worth living for, not just worth dying for. And Harry’s wand began to glow. And then the golden stag erupted from the tip of his wand, and charged the Dementor with a cry that echoed through the tunnel.
[...] Only this time, Harry added the missing ingredient, …the reason to fight for. “Everything I love,” Harry hissed out, “everything I love, Reflect if you’re worth saving.” And with that, the first glimmer of white silver started appearing in the air. “What is that?” whispered Hermione. “My Patronus,” Harry said softly. “It’s not working.” The silver was fading, like a bubble that threatened to burst. “I can’t cast the Patronus Charm...”
...He imagined the stars as they looked from Earth, imagined his true home, thought of it being there with him, holding off the Dementor. [?!]
The cold was already fading. That wouldn’t help against this fear, but another warm memory would. Harry brought to mind a summer’s day in primary school, where he’d first learned to cast a spell. … the most important part. His father, and his mother, waving to him from a dock as a ship bound for Egypt sailed away. Harry filled his mind with the happy thought, let it overtake him, let it become him.
Let it carry him, like an airship on a favorable wind. “Expecto Patronum!” A burst of pure light, the blazing shadow of an immensely tall humanoid, armored and bearing a helm and a sword. [?!]
… a wish beyond the thought, a belief that he could not truly be saved. “Don’t die,” Harry whispered to himself, as he had when facing Quirrell, a prayer to whatever Gods might be listening, an order to himself rather than request of them. “Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die...” Concentrating solely upon that wish, the image of a star exploding into existence upon his outstretched wand.
… that he’d been too sad to think of before. His mother’s love. He had to believe. He had to believe, even if she wasn’t really there, that she loved him. He had to believe, or else the Patronus wouldn’t come. A few feet away from him, Draco fell to his knees. “No,” he whispered. “No!” That was what broke Harry’s concentration. In front of him, the shimmering humanoid shape collapsed, the mist and light fading away. There was silence for a moment. Then a howl of mad laughter shook the chamber, as Mother’s face contorted with rage. “Fool! Idiot! You thought you could beat me, with such a pitiful attempt!” Her voice was rising to a shriek.
...the reason why it had been almost enough, and not quite. Hope. I have seen the brightest futures of the world, and I have seen them swept away. “Expecto Patronum!” From the tip of his wand burst a shining Unicorn, white as snow and bright as the sun. And for just one heartbeat it stood there, before the world went black.
The Dark Lord is gone. The Ministry has fallen. London is burning. But you have a mission, and you will see it through, because this is the last light in the darkness. This is the last hope for the world.
… that which he had thought was absent. Love. He didn’t think of the books, or his parents or Professor McGonagall. He thought of Hermione, and how she had always believed in him. He thought of how she’d helped him in so many ways, not just with homework, not just with fighting the Dark Arts. How she’d tried to help him every day since they’d first met on the Hogwarts Express.
Tricking AIDungeon’s GPT-3 model into writing HPMOR:
You start reading Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality by Eliezer Yudkowsky:
” “It said to me,” said Professor Quirrell, “that it knew me, and that it would hunt me down someday, wherever I tried to hide.” His face was rigid, showing no fright.
”Ah,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t worry about that, Professor Quirrell.” It’s not like Dementors can actually talk, or think; the structure they have is borrowed from your own mind and expectations...
Now everyone was giving him very strange looks. The Aurors were glancing nervously at each other, at the Dementor, at Harry.
And they stood directly before the Dementor’s cage.
”They are wounds in the world,” Harry said. “It’s just a wild guess, but I’m guessing the one who said that was Godric Gryffindor.”
″Yes...” said Dumbledore. “How did you know?”
It is a common misconception, thought Harry, that all the best rationalists are Sorted into Ravenclaw, leaving none for other Houses. This is not so; being Sorted into Ravenclaw indicates that your strongest virtue is curiosity, wondering and desiring to know the true answer. And this is not the only virtue a rationalist needs. Sometimes you have to work hard on a problem, and stick to it for a while. Sometimes you need a clever plan for finding out. And sometimes what you need more than anything else to see an answer, is the courage to face it...
Harry’s gaze went to what lay beneath the cloak, the horror far worse than any decaying mummy. Rowena Ravenclaw might also have known, for it was an obvious enough riddle once you saw it as a riddle.
And it was also obvious why the Patronuses were animals. The animals didn’t know, and so were sheltered from the fear.
But Harry knew, and would always know, and would never be able to forget. He’d tried to teach himself to face reality without flinching, and though Harry had not yet mastered that art, still those grooves had been worn into his mind, the learned reflex to look toward the painful thought instead of away. Harry would never be able to forget by thinking warm happy thoughts about something else, and that was why the spell hadn’t worked for him.
So Harry would think a warm happy thought that wasn’t about something else.
Harry drew forth his wand that Professor Flitwick had returned to him, put his feet into the beginning stance for the Patronus Charm.
Within his mind, Harry discarded the last remnants of the peace of the phoenix, put aside the calm, the dreamlike state, remembered instead Fawkes’s piercing cry, and roused himself for battle. Called upon all the pieces and elements of himself to awaken. Raised up within himself all the strength that the Patronus Charm could ever draw upon, to put himself into the right frame of mind for the final warm and happy thought; remembered all bright things.
The books his father had bought him.
Mum’s smile when Harry had handmade her a mother’s day card, an elaborate thing that had used half a pound of spare electronics parts from the garage to flash lights and beep a little tune, and had taken him three days to make.
Professor McGonagall telling him that his parents had died well, protecting him. As they had.
Realizing that Hermione was keeping up with him and even running faster, that they could be true rivals and friends.
Coaxing Draco out of the darkness, watching him slowly move toward the light.
Neville and Seamus and Lavender and Dean and everyone else who looked up to him, everyone that he would have fought to protect if anything threatened Hogwarts.
Everything that made life worth living.
His wand rose into the starting position for the Patronus Charm.
Harry thought of the stars, the image that had almost held off the Dementor even without a Patronus. Only this time, Harry added the missing ingredient, he’d never truly seen it but he’d seen the pictures and the video....
Harry thought of the image of his family, Mum and Dad and Liliana, standing outside the house on Gardiners Street, smiling at him. He thought of them in the back garden of that house, laughing as he chased the gnomes, and that was his final warm and happy thought.
And Harry cast the Patronus Charm.
A burst of silver erupted from the end of his wand and took the form of a deer, shining brightly.
...His mother’s eyes.
And the final piece clicked into place.
Harry’s mind was flooded with warmth, and the world seemed to still. Time itself seemed to stop, sound itself ceased to be of concern to Harry, all that remained was himself, and the terrible terrible void that surrounded him. But even as he felt himself begin to be pulled into it, a new force intervened.
A new shape of white, a beautiful silver serpent, coiled around him, protecting him from the darkness. The beautiful creature seemed to both give off warmth and energy, while also absorbing it from the void itself.
Harry felt himself pulled backward, away from the Dementor, and he found himself in the dark halls of Azkaban, being shielded by his wonderful silver Patronus.
...He thought of the night sky, of the moon, shining down upon him and his friends, and the stars beyond. His wand began to glow. “Expecto Patronum!” The glow burst from the tip of his wand and formed into a shape, and the shape was glowing white like a shadowless bright light, yet it had form and shape and figure, and that shape was the shadow of the memory of a star.
...He thought of the sunlight. Of warm air and a bright sky. Of happy people and happy times. Of hope and joy. Of a future worth living for, not just worth dying for. And Harry’s wand began to glow. And then the golden stag erupted from the tip of his wand, and charged the Dementor with a cry that echoed through the tunnel.
[...] Only this time, Harry added the missing ingredient,
…the reason to fight for. “Everything I love,” Harry hissed out, “everything I love, Reflect if you’re worth saving.” And with that, the first glimmer of white silver started appearing in the air. “What is that?” whispered Hermione. “My Patronus,” Harry said softly. “It’s not working.” The silver was fading, like a bubble that threatened to burst. “I can’t cast the Patronus Charm...”
...He imagined the stars as they looked from Earth, imagined his true home, thought of it being there with him, holding off the Dementor. [?!]
The cold was already fading. That wouldn’t help against this fear, but another warm memory would. Harry brought to mind a summer’s day in primary school, where he’d first learned to cast a spell.
… the most important part. His father, and his mother, waving to him from a dock as a ship bound for Egypt sailed away. Harry filled his mind with the happy thought, let it overtake him, let it become him.
Let it carry him, like an airship on a favorable wind. “Expecto Patronum!” A burst of pure light, the blazing shadow of an immensely tall humanoid, armored and bearing a helm and a sword. [?!]
… a wish beyond the thought, a belief that he could not truly be saved. “Don’t die,” Harry whispered to himself, as he had when facing Quirrell, a prayer to whatever Gods might be listening, an order to himself rather than request of them. “Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die...” Concentrating solely upon that wish, the image of a star exploding into existence upon his outstretched wand.
… that he’d been too sad to think of before. His mother’s love. He had to believe. He had to believe, even if she wasn’t really there, that she loved him. He had to believe, or else the Patronus wouldn’t come. A few feet away from him, Draco fell to his knees. “No,” he whispered. “No!”
That was what broke Harry’s concentration. In front of him, the shimmering humanoid shape collapsed, the mist and light fading away. There was silence for a moment. Then a howl of mad laughter shook the chamber, as Mother’s face contorted with rage. “Fool! Idiot! You thought you could beat me, with such a pitiful attempt!” Her voice was rising to a shriek.
...the reason why it had been almost enough, and not quite. Hope. I have seen the brightest futures of the world, and I have seen them swept away. “Expecto Patronum!” From the tip of his wand burst a shining Unicorn, white as snow and bright as the sun.
And for just one heartbeat it stood there, before the world went black.
The Dark Lord is gone. The Ministry has fallen. London is burning. But you have a mission, and you will see it through, because this is the last light in the darkness. This is the last hope for the world.
And you will see it done.
I love the ending. It’s way more exciting,
and terrifying.
… that which he had thought was absent. Love. He didn’t think of the books, or his parents or Professor McGonagall. He thought of Hermione, and how she had always believed in him. He thought of how she’d helped him in so many ways, not just with homework, not just with fighting the Dark Arts. How she’d tried to help him every day since they’d first met on the Hogwarts Express.
Mod note: Spoilerified, to shield the eyes of the innocent.
My bad! Thanks.