GPT-3 will have access to more maths pets than him and that is an x-risk.

I fed two chapters of HPMOR to AIDungeon's version of GPT-3, and this is what it gave me. Spoilers: Harry is a genocidal psychopath. >Chapter 3: Hogsmeade >1 January 1981 >The Hog's Head Inn was bustling with activity. It was Christmas Eve, but the crowds outside were far too numerous to allow for much relaxation. A few families sat down to eat their dinner while others watched television sets set up in the back rooms. Most people seemed to be drinking, though. There were several large beer bottles set out on the table, along with glasses filled with wine and brandy. >Then, a door to the side opened up and five people entered. One was a tall black man dressed in ornate golden robes that shimmered blue and purple. >"The Kingdom of Norway," he said in a booming voice, "the first country to report a complete and total victory over the Redcaps." The others clapped politely, although some more enthusiastic than others. >A moment later, the door opened again. A woman with raven-black hair in a punk outfit walked in. "The Czech Republic," she said, "we have driven the fairies from our borders once and for all!" >Then, a rather unpleasant-looking man with a face like a rat entered. "The People's Republic of China," he said, "we have found the fairy ring that the Reds were using to sneak into our country and destroyed it, with all the fairies inside." >Then, a large man wearing an eye-patch entered. "The United States of America," he said, "we are driving the fairy folk from our lands!" >Finally, a woman with light brown hair in a tight bun and wearing a sari entered. "The Republic of India," she said, "we are taking the opportunity to strike a mighty blow to finally wipe out the fairy menace from our country once and for all!" >Then, the door opened once again to reveal a tall, rather skeletal man. He wore a cloak and a hood over his head, hiding most of his face in darkness. "And I," he said in a low, raspy voice, "am the Church of Satan. We wish you all... bad luck." >Nobody else entered after him. >"Well," said the barman, a stocky man with a goatee and a black tee-shirt that read "Hey! Listen!", "That's all of them then." >"Yes," said the hooded figure. "So, we have a deal?" >"Sure," the barman shrugged, "whatever." >The hooded man snapped his fingers. The doors at the back of the room opened, and all of the supernatural beings filed out in an orderly fashion. >As Harry was leaving, the barman stopped him. "Hey," he said, "did you really mean it when you said that thing about the fairies being able to take out entire armies?" >"Yes," Harry nodded solemnly. >"Shit," said the barman, "that's pretty cool." >The next day, the Prime Minister of England had a heart attack while stepping off of a helicopter. The media assumed it was due to the stress of his position. The supernatural community assumed the other parties involved had something to do with it. Nobody suspected a lone barman in the Scottish highlands. Nobody ever does. >--- >"There's no point in going to classes," Harry said, "I already know more than the teachers. I could teach the classes. Besides, I need to practice." >"Good idea," said Thomas. "So, what are you planning to practice?" >"Practical magic," replied Harry. "I can already make some really cool stuff happen with my mind, but I want to be able to do it without speaking spells, and I also want to be able to do actual spells instead of just vague wishes. I figure if I practice a lot, I can get good enough to take out that school." >"Wait, you want to go back there?" asked Carla. >"No," said Harry, "but I know the location of another one just like it. It's small, only has about sixty or seventy students, but it's the best option if we're going to start practicing mass genocide." >"Seems a bit morbid," said Thomas. >"Oh, come on," said Carla. "You know you want to." >"Alright, I know I want to. But still, mass genocide?" >"It's the most humane way of dealing with them," said Harry. "If we're going to become predators, we need to act like them. Predators don't waste time chasing down their prey. They find a nest, or a herd, or whatever, and they wipe it out as quickly as possible. The less time we spend with these things, the better."