With the villa they would rent now settled, the next task was to write everyone and tell them the address, then ask whether they could come after the second week ended.
Hermione wrote the letters to Harry and Ron; since she wasn't sure Ron had actually collected Harry on the second day of the holiday, she sent one letter to each of them.
Amanda took charge of writing to Cho Chang, Marietta, and Penelope; because neither she nor Hermione had an Owl, they simply rented five Owls from the Owl Post and dispatched the letters the morning after the villa was confirmed.
Just after the letters were sent, Mr. and Mrs. Granger—who had received word they were free for the day—collected the two girls and went to the agency to sign the lease with the owner.
At the agency the Grangers and Amanda met the villa's owner.
Amanda stared at the man with hollow eyes; he was strongly built, a broad, uncomplicated smile on his face.
He looked warm, open, and easy to get along with.
Of course Amanda felt none of that, but she still ran a quick profile on him based on his expression, clothes, and posture.
Male, thirty-five to forty, heavily muscled—not gym-built—most likely a farmer or stock breeder; facial muscles natural, no deception; trustworthy.
After the automatic analysis she greeted him expressionlessly but politely, then, accompanied by the agent, skimmed the contract with a professionalism that startled everyone in the room.
Once she was certain nothing was wrong, she signed and swiped her card.
When she paid, her "odd" bank card stunned everyone present except Hermione.
The agent and the owner gaped: they had assumed the parents were footing the bill for a children's gathering—only to discover the big-spender was the kid herself.
Still, as long as the money was good, who cared who signed? Contract signed and payment made, the owner handed over both the gate and villa keys to Amanda.
'Just bring your personal things; I run a farm, so I'll stock the cold room with food before you arrive,' he said cheerfully.
'Thank you,' Amanda answered evenly, her flat tone and unchanging face leaving the agent and owner dumbfounded again.
Lease done, she left with the Grangers. In the car home Hermione finally couldn't contain her curiosity and turned to Amanda.
'You studied the laws of the Y Country Muggle World as well?'
Amanda turned stiffly and nodded as though it were obvious. 'Every rule, no matter where, should be memorised and followed; that's what good students do. I know the laws of every country on Earth.'
Hermione blinked, then gaped. Amanda had just said she had memorised the legal codes of every country on Earth.
After a term of studying with her Hermione knew that "memorised" to Amanda did not mean "roughly remembered."
It meant she could reproduce every statute verbatim, right down to the punctuation.
With so many nations' statutes—complex enough that most people barely master their own—Amanda had mastered them all. Hermime marvelled and, remembering her computer-like reading speed in the Hogwarts Library, thought: Well… I suppose it makes sense.
When they arrived home, replies to all five letters were already waiting.
Cho Chang and Marietta had learnt of the plan on the hogwarts express ride home, had told their parents in advance, and received their blessing.
Their note thanked Amanda again and said they could reach the villa on the Sunday of the second week.
Penelope only discovered the invitation when Amanda's letter arrived, but fortunately she had no plans for the rest of the summer.
Her parents took a "free-range" approach: as long as she stayed safe and legal, she could do as she pleased.
Permission easily granted, she wrote to say she would arrive on the Sunday of the second week.
Harry and Ron sent a single joint reply.
Ron answered Hermione's question: the Weasleys had indeed collected Harry the day after he arrived at the Dursleys'.
The Dursleys, Ron fumed, hadn't wanted Harry to enjoy his holiday.
But with almost the entire Weasley family present—and being Wizards whom the Dursleys feared—they had extracted Harry and taken him home.
At the end Ron added that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had approved the plan and they would arrive on time.
Reading all the replies, Hermione beamed. 'Great—everyone can make it.'
'Mm.' Amanda nodded calmly, but inside a tightly stretched cord suddenly loosened.
She even felt her breathing come easier. If everyone was coming… she could protect them.
She blinked mechanically and watched Hermione fold the letters away.
Hermione tucked them into a pile, turned, and poked Amanda's arm. 'Promise me: once we're at the villa, no studying. When Harry and Ron ask for help with homework, you ignore them; I'll handle it.'
She narrowed her eyes in mock threat. 'Not until the new Hogwarts book list arrives and we've bought the books can you start studying—previewing next year's courses. Deal?'
Amanda's face stayed blank while her mind raced.
No studying meant standing still, being overtaken, slipping in rank—possibly being destroyed.
But seeing Hermione's earnest expression, Amanda obeyed the voice deep in her head.
'All right. I promise.'
Hermione exhaled, feeling both happy and helpless as she looked at Amanda.
The girl—after being ordered to rest—had still finished all her holiday homework in a week, and even that hadn't satisfied her.
When Hermione suggested she take the rest of the holiday off, Amanda actually paused before answering; Hermione had no doubt that, had she not been there, Amanda would have'speed-run' the vacation homework and spent the entire break studying on her own.
Merlin only knew how high her magical and academic level had climbed; Hermione reckoned that after spending the previous year practically living in the Hogwarts Library and reading nearly half of it, Amanda was already a match for a fifth- or even sixth-year student.
The thought brought a deeper wave of helplessness over Hermione. Back in first year she'd still wanted to compete with Amanda over marks; now... she'd rather not. Health mattered more than grades, she felt.
Thanks to Amanda's constant, body-destroying study habits, Hermione had learned her lesson.
As for her earlier idea—if any fifth- or sixth-year Young Wizards at Hogwarts ever heard it, they'd wave their hands in frantic denial.
Don't joke—Amanda's magical skill didn't just outstrip the fifth- and sixth-years; most adult Wizards couldn't keep up either.
During the following week the two girls went nowhere for fun; instead they conscientiously listed every daily necessity the five of them would need and how much of it, after which Mrs. Granger would shop on her way home from work to fill any gaps.
Mrs. Granger soon discovered she only had to do the buying; Amanda and Hermione's lists were so thorough nothing was ever missing, right down to the exact quantities.
Yet Hermione quickly noticed that Amanda's section of the list contained every item needed for bare survival—and not one thing more.
Quantities were calculated with frightening precision, but snacks, drinks, anything that made life enjoyable had been ignored entirely.
Remembering that Amanda hadn't even known what cola was at the Amusement Park, Hermione ground her teeth in frustration.
What kind of parents raise a child who doesn't know how to relax, who has zero concept of fun, who only understands the bare minimum needed to stay alive?
So Hermione added every snack she could think of, in every flavour, plus every drink, until Mrs. Granger's eyebrows twitched.
Still, remembering this was supposed to be the kids' time to play together, Mrs. Granger set concerns about diet and dental health aside.
After all, none of them would live on snacks alone—certainly not with Amanda around.
And there was only one time each year to be a little wild, so she let them be.
Every snack and drink Hermione listed Mrs. Granger bought—in generous amounts.
Writing at top speed, Amanda reached toiletries that day. Based on her own past usage she allotted the right number of pads and tampons for Senior Cho Chang, Senior Marietta, and Senior Penelopa; she and Hermione hadn't started their periods yet, so they didn't need any.
Her hand hesitated a moment while she rapidly estimated the three seniors' height and weight, then added a slightly higher-than-standard dose of painkillers to the list.
Period pain could interfere with studying, so painkillers were the logical solution.
And if drowsiness tempted anyone to slack off, cold water would wake her up—Amanda considered it obvious.
It was the cheapest, most efficient method; her mother had demanded it of her. Any extra pain caused by a bucket of cold water? Simple—take a bit more painkiller.
Amanda calculated the dose herself, always a fraction above normal. If the pain still broke through, she studied while hurting; she would never reach the point of needing a hospital—that wasted study time.
Therefore she now prepared similarly'slightly excessive' painkillers for the three seniors, so they could kill the pain and, if necessary, wake themselves with cold water.
Of course, the list reached Hermione before it ever got to Mrs. Granger.
Taking the sheet out of habit, Hermione checked the sanitary items and agreed that Cho Chang, Marietta, and Penelope would need them.
Seeing the painkillers, she assumed Amanda was merely guarding against menstrual cramps.
Glancing sideways at Amanda, still writing, Hermian thought, She hasn't learned about feelings, yet considerateness seems instinctive.
With a wry smile Hermion added several packs of biscuits; the Grangers were shopping day by day—the sheer volume was too much to carry at once.
Lacking any medical background, Hermione never realised that the painkiller dose listed for three people was already above the safe line.
But when Mrs. Granger came home and saw the list, she spotted the incorrect dosage at once.
She was about to call Hermione back, but the girl had already run off to talk with Amanda.
Not wanting to disturb them, Mrs. Granger turned to her husband instead.
'That child Amanda is so thoughtful—look, she even remembered painkillers. Still, she's only a child; the dosage is off.'
Mr. Granger gave a half-laugh. 'It'd be frightening if she got it right. Honestly, these daily-necessity lists of hers amaze me.'
'She's only eleven, yet she lists everything in such detail and calculates the exact quantities. I can't help wondering if her family relied on her for everything.'
He shook his head in self-mockery. 'I'm being oversensitive; she's still a child. Cooking and cleaning, maybe, but surely they didn't depend on her for every aspect of life.'
Mrs. Granger nodded agreement, yet a sense of dissonance stirred inside her.
Amanda could calculate the precise number of tissues; would she really miscalculate a painkiller dose?
Pressing her lips together, she shook the stray thought away.
Amanda was a child; without medical knowledge a mistake was normal—yes, normal. She was overthinking it.
Almost instinctively, she refused to ponder any other possibility.
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