Three weeks into the term, apart from eating a little more slowly, Amanda's schedule was almost identical to last semester.
Every spare minute was spent on extra reading in the Library, with only one new duty added: teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts to her classmates.
Under Amanda's guidance, the Little Eagles, Little Badgers, and Little Lions she instructed had thoroughly mastered Expelliarmus, Stupefy, and the Impediment Jinx.
On average they met once a week, mastering one spell per session.
Yet for Amanda, 'mastered' meant not only casting the spell, but using it flexibly in real combat.
To achieve that, she staged mock duels with them every class.
Each duel ended with her wand invariably sent flying.
Frankly, her acting skills were poor—and she wasn't even trying. Every Young Wizard in the self-study group could tell she was letting herself be disarmed.
Still, everyone understood it was Amanda's kindness, so no one mentioned it.
After all… after one lesson it felt great to see you'd actually learned something useful!
During those three weeks Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Sprout all happened to pass the classroom where Amanda held her sessions.
Their own Young Wizards were studying Defense Against the Dark Arts under her; of course they cared.
Hence the three Heads found excuses to stroll by now and then.
After one such detour, however, they stopped going, reassured.
Amanda taught excellently—this was the unanimous verdict after each Head had observed a session.
The three were already discussing what terms Hogwarts would have to offer to keep her on staff after graduation.
A Young Wizard so talented, clearly destined for even greater things and already a gifted teacher—how could they not want to keep her?
So they negotiated in advance, aiming to make their offer more attractive than the Ministry of Magic or any other destination she might choose.
Amanda knew nothing of the three Heads' plans; to her, school life allowed only one focus: study.
Provided… nothing extraordinary happened.
Eating dinner while reading a book beside her plate, Amanda was so absorbed she paid no attention to what Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe were saying.
'Merlin's eyes, what's wrong with Slytherin now? They're staring at Gryffindor like sworn enemies—what grudge have they cooked up this time?'
Cho Chang clicked her tongue at the Slytherin table and nudged Marietta with an elbow.
Cho's sources were usually reliable; she expected Marietta would know.
Marietta glanced up, shrugged, and looked unimpressed.
'Oh, they've cooked up another grudge all right.'
'What happened?' Cho laid down her knife and fork, eyes sparkling at Marietta; her curiosity was hooked.
'It's Saturday, so both the Gryffindor House Team and the Slytherin House Team went to the Quidditch Pitch for practice.'
'Then they started quarrelling?' Cho lifted a knowing brow.
'Mm-hmm.' Marietta nodded.
'Malfoy made the Slytherin House Team this year, and his father bought the whole team Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones; their Captain and Malfoy used that to mock the Gryffindor House Team.'
Cho nodded along; she knew Gryffindors would never swallow that insult.
Sure enough, 'Hermione shot back with a sarcastic jab at Malfoy. He's been a powder keg since our little campaign got under his skin—one spark and he exploded, saying things he shouldn't have.'
Marietta frowned deeply; she loathed the word as much as anyone.
'Again—mudblood?' Cho mouthed the last word.
Marietta gave a firm nod; Cho rolled her eyes in disgust.
'Stupid Pure-blood families.'
Marietta glanced at Amanda, a slight smile tugging at her lips. 'It didn't end there—and we have Amanda to thank.'
Hearing her full name, Amanda quickly swallowed her steak and looked at Marietta.
Thank her? What for this time?
Instinctively she tried to puzzle it out, but with too little information she drew a blank.
Marietta patted Amanda's head in mock fondness and explained gently,
'Almost everyone on the Gryffindor House Team attends our self-study group. When they heard Malfoy's slur they simply drew their wands.'
'The Slytherin House Team got thrashed—badly.'
Cho clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle laughter. 'Then we really do owe Amanda.'
Thanks to her, the Lions' spell-work and combat reflexes in Defense Against the Dark Arts had improved so much that they flattened the Snakes with ease.
One wondered whether, had the Slytherins joined Amanda's group, they'd be regretting it now.
Cho shook her head. No—perhaps some Slytherins might think that way,
but fanatics of pure-blood supremacy like Marcus Flint and Draco Malfoy would probably just blame Amanda.
Something occurred to Cho and she glanced toward the Staff Table. 'Didn't Professor Snape say anything?'
He usually favoured Slytherin outrageously; this time, after their team was beaten by Gryffindor, his silence was… suspicious.
'Professor Snape was actually fair,' Marietta said, nose wrinkling in surprise. 'He gave Harry and Ron detention—they hit hardest.'
'Flint and Malfoy, the ones who insulted Hermione, lost points and got detention too.'
'In fact, Slytherin's punishment was harsher than Gryffindor's.'
Cho's eyes widened; to her—to everyone—that seemed unbelievable.
A Gryffindor-Slytherin clash, and Slytherin came off worse?
'Poor Hermione cried when Malfoy called her that. Hagrid comforted her and she calmed down.'
Marietta sighed; every Ravenclaw Eagle who heard had vowed to step up their private campaigns against Malfoy.
If the past had been petty skirmishes, the swots were now deadly serious.
He'd used the slur once, then again—once is chance, twice is pattern; would a third follow?
Even if not for Hermione, for Amanda's sake the Ravenclaw Eagles were ready to explode.
Hermione was crying; the realization struck Amanda's mind like a thunderclap.
It left her brain throbbing with dull pain, her vision blurring for an instant.
Hermione had been hurt again—because she hadn't eliminated the threat completely.
Her heart clenching, Amanda rose unsteadily, staggered two steps while gripping a chair, then hurried toward the Gryffindor Table.
'Amanda, watch out!' Cho Chang stood up in alarm as Amanda stumbled, steadying the chair Amanda nearly knocked over and saving her from another fall.
But by the time Cho reached out again, Amanda was already far ahead.
Marietta Edgecombe, seated on Amanda's other side, also missed her chance to help.
'Amanda must be going to find Hermione,' Marietta guessed, watching her head straight for the Gryffindor Table.
'Most likely,' Cho agreed with a nod.
Under their gaze, Amanda walked up behind Hermione and gently tapped her shoulder.
'Hermione…' Amanda's voice was hoarse, so low it was almost unrecognizable.
Hermione, who had been eating, spun around at once; the moment she recognized Amanda, worried words spilled out.
'Amanda, what happened to your voice? Are you sick? Have you been to the Hospital Wing? Here, drink some water.'
She pushed her own cup across the table, too frantic to remember she'd already used it.
Amanda, equally oblivious, took the cup mechanically and gulped.
'Feeling better?' Hermione stood, rubbing Amanda's back.
'Mm.' Amanda nodded, face blank.
'You came because… you heard about this morning?'
Hermione pulled her down onto the Gryffindor bench; the nearby Little Lions showed no annoyance at a Little Eagle joining them.
They even shifted aside to give her more room.
'Yes.' Amanda nodded again.
'I'm fine,' Hermione said, smoothing Amanda's hair. 'Their insults don't touch me; my worth isn't tarnished by their words.'
'It just… hurts a bit—hurt by people's prejudice and discrimination.'
She shook her head and sipped her pumpkin juice. 'We're all human; why treat one another like this? Equality and coexistence should be the norm.'
'Humans are the most complicated creatures,' Amanda replied flatly, quoting a book she'd once read.
'True, the most complicated,' Hermione echoed—so complex that sometimes even one's own self is a mystery.
Catching Draco Malfoy heading for the Great Hall doors, Amanda jumped up, mind racing, and told Hermione,
'I'll head back.'
'Hm? All right.' Hermione nodded, watching her hurry out.
Head lowered again, Hermione smiled at the thought of Amanda coming to check on her.
She followed Draco outside, eyes flicking between him and his two shadows, Crabbe and Goyle.
Threat's followers equal smaller threats; the equation formed automatically in her mind.
For Hermione's safety, threats had to be removed—minor ones included.
Amanda made no effort to hide, trailing the trio openly.
Her steps were light, and the three second-years had no notion of counter-surveillance, especially in safe, familiar Hogwarts.
They never noticed the girl behind them or her emotionless stare.
When they entered an empty corridor, Amanda stopped; time to eliminate the threat.
Failing to remove it earlier had let Hermione be hurt; a little unauthorized magic and injury to classmates—she'd punish herself with a few Crucios afterward.
If that wasn't enough, she could confess to a Professor, but the threat had to go.
She glanced at the wall torches, then wordlessly and wandlessly cast the Levitation Charm.
Just as she had against Quirrell and Voldemort last year, the flames were yanked into two blazing walls that penned Draco's group front and back.
'What the—?!'
'What's happening? Is this some school event?'
'Damn it, Goyle! Are you stupid? Someone's trapped us!'
Draco felt ready to throttle Goyle for suggesting it might be a school activity.
The firewalls rose in an instant; none of the three saw Amanda, so they had no idea who was responsible.
BOOM!
A fiery explosion followed as a Fire-Making spell intensified the heat, forcing Draco back.
They shielded their faces, struggling against the scorching air.
Soaked in sweat, they knew they'd be roasted alive if this continued.
'Aguamenti!' Draco yelled, whipping out his wand. 'Crabbe, Goyle, quick—Aguamenti!'
'Aguamenti!' ×2
Three jets of water shot toward the flames and vanished in steam on contact.
Amanda's eyes narrowed; the two walls of fire began sliding inward.
'Hell! Whoever you are, I'm of the House of Malfoy! Release me if you don't want the family's wrath!'
The threat named Malfoy triggered a cold realization: Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, was also a danger to Hermione—she should erase every threat before punishing herself.
Pressed toward the floor by the heat, the three boys were nearing shock from dehydration.
The fire was about to close; once it sealed, they would burn until only ash remained.
Just before the flames met, a soft, warm hand covered her eyes.
A gentle voice whispered, 'Relax, Amanda. Stop.'
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