Throughout the entire lesson, Amanda kept her eyes fixed on Professor Flitwick, recording every word he said in her mind.
During class, Professor Flitwick openly praised Amanda, had the class watch her wand movements, and listen carefully to her incantations.
He even excitedly told everyone that Amanda had already mastered the year's Charms and could move on to advanced study on her own.
The eager Ravenclaw Little Eagles silently doubled their efforts, itching to surpass her.
They were children, after all; hearing the Professor praise Amanda non-stop naturally bred rivalry—wanting to compete was only normal.
By contrast, the Hufflepuff Little Badgers were thoroughly zen.
They merely offered comments like, "Wow, she's amazing," or "I wish I had her brain; if only I were that smart," and left it at that.
Then they continued their studies at their own unhurried pace.
The Badgers weren't in a rush; advancing ahead was a Ravenclaw thing. They preferred to enjoy good food—as long as they passed their exams, that was enough.
Of course, amid the praise, some did notice Amanda's machine-precise gestures and her flat, emotionless chanting.
But they assumed it was simply her habit and thought nothing more of it.
When Charms Class ended, Amanda packed her bag in a flash, bolted out first, and reached the Great Hall at top speed, resuming her habit of shoveling food as if force-feeding herself.
By the time Professor Flitwick arrived for lunch, she had finished and left for the Library.
The moment Professor Flitwick sat at the Staff Table, Professor McGonagall turned to him.
"Filius, did you award points to Ravenclaw this morning?"
"Yes," Professor Flitwick answered cheerfully, looking delighted.
Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows in surprise; she knew her colleague well—mild-tempered yet, as a former dueling champion, usually calm. What could make Filius this happy?
"If a student could perform every Transfiguration spell you plan to teach this year before your first lesson, you'd be just as thrilled," he said, beaming.
"She?" Professor McGonagall glanced toward the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, trying to identify the girl.
"Miss Amanda of my house," Professor Flitwick said with pride, looking toward his house table. "She's right—"
"Why isn't she at the table?"
Hearing the name, Professor McGonagall paused; the memory of last night's dinner scene was simply too vivid.
"Has Miss Amanda skipped lunch?" Professor Flitwick asked, frowning with concern.
Professor McGonagall studied the Ravenclaw Table and formed a guess.
"I imagine you remember how Miss Amanda ate at last night's feast, Filius?"
At the reminder, it suddenly came back to him.
It wasn't that he ignored his students; Amanda's brilliance had eclipsed that particular quirk.
"I suppose she's already finished and left," Professor McGonagall concluded.
"Very well," Professor Flitwick nodded.
"This afternoon is Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff's first Transfiguration Class. I'm eager to see how Miss Amanda performs."
"Let's hope she excels in Transfiguration as she did in Charms," Professor McGonagall smiled.
"You might ask her to demonstrate," Professor Flitwick suggested.
"I shall," Professor McGonagall replied.
At the center of the Staff Table, Headmaster Dumbledore sipped his twice-sugared pumpkin juice, listening quietly.
Exceptional talent, praise from Professors—he couldn't help being reminded of someone.
But it was too soon for such thoughts; Miss Amanda hadn't reached that former pupil's level—yet.
What Headmaster Dumbledore didn't know was that, very soon, Amanda's feats would outshine that same person's at the same age.
Meanwhile, the student being discussed—and "remembered" by the Headmaster—was in the Library.
She was hunting for the four books Professor Flitwick had recommended.
Her gaze swept the shelves; in moments she located all four.
Expressionless, she checked them out with Madam Pince, stuffing three into her already bulging bag.
The satchel ballooned, visibly heavy.
Slipping it onto her back as if weightless, she strode briskly toward the Transfiguration classroom, reading the remaining book as she walked.
Pushing open the door, she found the room empty; Hogwarts allowed a long lunch break.
For Amanda, breaks didn't exist. She chose a front-row seat and continued reading.
Noon passed quickly; Professor McGonagall arrived before the lesson.
Seeing Amanda already seated and studying, she nodded approvingly—teachers adore diligent students.
"Good afternoon, Miss Amanda."
Startled from her focus, Amanda stood ramrod-straight and greeted her politely.
"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall."
Professor McGonagall smiled gently; courteous, hardworking pupils always earned her kindness.
"Professor Flitwick told me of your Charms performance. Would you mind showing me your Transfiguration level?"
"Of course, Professor McGonagall," Amanda answered in a flat tone, drawing her wand.
From basic first-year spells to the most advanced, the more she demonstrated, the brighter Professor McGonagall's eyes became.
By the end, Professor McGonagall couldn't help but smile; just as Filius had said, this child was truly a genius.
A glance at the book Amanda had set on the desk told Professor McGonagall at once that Filius had given it to her for private study.
Determined that her own subject should not fall behind, Professor McGonagall spoke to Amanda with a smile.
"Miss Amanda, would you like to begin studying Transfiguration early as well?"
Amanda didn't hesitate for a second; she nodded immediately. "I would, Professor McGonagall."
Delighted, Professor McGonagall wrote three book titles on a sheet of parchment and handed it to her.
"You may read these in advance, but Transfiguration can be dangerous. If you intend to try the spells, it's best that I'm present. You're welcome to come to my office at any time."
"My office is right beside the Gryffindor Common Room."
"Yes, thank you, Professor McGonagall." Amanda gave a mechanical nod, then returned to her seat in the front row.
Professor McGonagall nodded in satisfaction and, not to be outdone, awarded Ravenclaw forty points; if Filius had given the girl forty, she could hardly give less.
And so, on the very first day of term, Ravenclaw had joyfully collected eighty points, all from the same student.
Likewise, during Transfiguration Class, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs heard Professor McGonagall praise Amanda.
The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students responded with unanimous envy... and after class they spread word of Amanda's feat: eighty points for Ravenclaw in a single day.
Young Wizards from the other houses, already wondering how Ravenclaw had shot ahead, were stunned; they had received points from Professors before, but never in such generous handfuls.
The Professors replied that if anyone could match Amanda's level of advance mastery, they would be just as lavish with their own points.
Of course, such expectations were unlikely to be met. Leaving aside the Young Wizards from Muggle families,
even Pure-blood children received their first wand only at eleven.
Before that they scarcely studied magic at all; their age and undeveloped power made early study tantamount to forcing a seedling to sprout.
Even at eleven a Young Wizard's magic is still immature, too weak to allow mastery of an entire year's spells in a short time.
Only the truly gifted could, like the freakishly-powered Amanda, learn the whole first-year curriculum—and more—simply by reading.
As for those eighty points, Ravenclaw's Little Eagles could hardly have been happier.
They tried at dinner, and again after, to talk to her and offer congratulations.
Alas, they discovered—to their dismay—that they could find no chance to speak with her.
At dinner she finished her meal in three and a half minutes; the Little Eagles didn't dare interrupt. When she stood and headed straight back to the Dormitory to read, she vanished.
Hermione, of course, heard about the eighty points awarded in a single day.
After hearing it she stared at her plate and muttered to herself.
"Oh goodness... eighty points. I'll have to study even harder."
Neville, sitting beside her, quietly slid a little farther away.
When Cho Chang and Marietta returned to the Dormitory they found Amanda at her desk, reading.
They exchanged glances and tiptoed in, careful not to disturb her.
Marietta stole a cautious look at Amanda, then sat on her friend Cho's bed.
"The way Amanda studies... it's terrifying."
She hadn't come back to rest at noon, and now, after evening classes, she was buried in books again.
Cho lowered her voice and shook her head at Marietta.
"That's not all. I got up at three-thirty last night—she was still studying. Three-thirty in the morning!"
"Three-thirty?!" Marietta clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the cry.
Cho nodded emphatically.
"Merlin, doesn't she ever sleep?"
"I asked," Cho paused. "She said she sleeps at four and gets up at five to study."
Marietta hissed in a breath, turning to look at Amanda with awe—and a hint of fear.
Terrifying, that level of drive.
After a few more whispered exchanges of shock, both girls returned to their own desks to read.
The Little Eagles' top marks were no accident; they spent most of their free time studying.
Of course, they couldn't match Amanda. Studying until eleven, they took turns bathing, dried their hair, and went to bed.
Amanda still sat under the lamp, book open, posture unchanged.
She had finished two of the four books Professor Flitwick had given her.
Progress had slowed because these texts were noticeably harder than first-year material.
Amanda needed time to master them thoroughly, yet the time required still dissatisfied her.
Or rather... she felt she ought to be dissatisfied; the person who had drilled that notion into her was to blame. She pinched her forearm twice, leaving bruises, then emotionlessly opened the third book.
At four o'clock she closed it; she had finished the third volume just before her allotted bedtime.
Still... too slow. She pinched her arm again, pulled off her shoes and socks, and lay down.
She fell asleep in seconds; drained and empty of feeling, she did not even dream.
Exactly one hour later her eyes opened.
After washing and bathing she switched the lamp back on and opened the fourth book Professor Flitwick had recommended.
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