"No problem, Professor McGonagall." Amanda nodded without expression.
"First of all, I come from another world."
Amanda began her explanation mechanically, step by step. Professor McGonagall froze at the words, and Hermione—who had been holding her—turned to stare in shock.
Cho Chang's mouth fell open; Marietta Eckmore was dumbstruck; Penelope's brow twitched violently; Madam Pomfrey's face brimmed with bewilderment.
"Another world—what does that mean?"
Hermione voiced the question everyone in the room was thinking.
"Exactly what it sounds like: a different world, not the one you know." Amanda answered with textbook precision.
"Then why did you come to this world?"
Hermione's arms around her tightened; her voice trembled. She had a premonition the answer would hurt.
"Because I died in that world—was terminated."
Amanda's tone was flat, as though she spoke of someone else's life and death, not her own.
"But… but you're alive now, perfectly alive, aren't you?"
Penelope stared, unable to believe it. This vibrant girl—how could she have died?
"Because this world's world consciousness helped me."
Amanda spoke without hesitation. The Young Wizards didn't understand the term; they looked to Professor McGonagall.
Pale-faced, the Professor offered, "She must mean the awareness born of our own world."
That her student had once died—she was holding together remarkably well.
The Little Lions nodded, willing to set the mystery aside; right now nothing mattered more than Amanda herself.
Seeing no further questions, Amanda continued.
"In our world, apart from elite families, every household's quality of life and social standing hinge on their children's academic performance."
"A child's grades decide how many resources the family receives."
Grades determine resource allocation? Hermione's brows knitted tight.
"You mean… your marks decided your parents' living standards, the money they got?"
She turned to Amanda, almost certain of the answer.
It was the only conclusion that fit.
"Yes." Amanda nodded without hesitation.
"Damn it!" Hermione swore.
She'd assumed Amanda's parents supported her; in truth Amanda had been supporting them!
"Twisted world!" Professor McGonagall's chest heaved like a lioness on the rampage.
"How dare they demand their children provide for them when they should be care-free students!"
Amanda fell silent; she couldn't grasp their outrage.
To her, that was simply how things worked.
The other three Little Lions and Madam Pomfrey looked equally grim.
"Go on, Amanda."
Hermione breathed deeply until her voice steadied.
"Each year's final exam ranks every student; those rankings decide next year's resource share."
"And every year the bottom third are terminated."
"Terminated means killed?" Cho Chang's voice was icy, her eyes venomous.
"Yes." Amanda admitted again.
Both glasses on the night-stands beside Cho and Marietta Eckmore shattered.
Madam Pomfrey, furious herself, still soothed the four Young Wizards.
"Calm down, girls; no magical outbursts."
"We'll try, Madam Pomfrey," Marietta Eckmore answered, though she looked anything but calm.
"But why were you terminated? With your diligence, memory, and logic, you couldn't be in the bottom third."
Penelope steepled her fingers, gaze fixed on Amanda.
"No." Amanda shook her head briskly. "I'm a stupid child, a fool, a blockhead…"
"Stop! You're not!" Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth.
Her eyes were blood-shot, filled with violence; the gentle Little Lion wanted blood for the first time.
She remembered the hospital scan: Amanda's emotional and sleep centers looked newly grown—and self-suppressed.
She loosened her hand, voice hoarse. "They tampered with your brain, didn't they? They did!"
The last words were a roar.
Amanda blinked, unable to fathom the sudden shout.
"Yes. I underwent surgery; my emotional and sleep centers were removed to cut rest time and boost rational thought."
"I'll kill them—I swear I will!"
Hermione's hair whipped in a wind of rage; the others agreed wholeheartedly.
Amanda's parents deserved death—nothing less.
"They call themselves parents?" Professor McGonagall panted, barely restraining herself before her students.
She knew Muggle surgery; how could anyone carve up their own child's brain?
"They're not even animals—beasts treat their young better!"
She could hold back no longer.
Madam Pomfrey closed her eyes, aura formidable.
She opened them again. "But Miss Amanda's brain is intact now? I'd have noticed otherwise."
Missing two vital areas? She would never have missed it.
"Yes," Hermione bit out. "Her emotional and memory centers regrew—infant-new and still suppressed."
Everyone eased slightly; at least the brain was whole again.
They could work with that.
"So after that—Merlin-forsaken—surgery, your parents set one hour of sleep, minutes for meals, the rest for study?"
Hermione finally connected every odd habit.
No wonder Amanda never felt tired or dreamed—without a sleep center, how could she?
"Exactly," Amanda nodded in agreement. "Without a sleep center, I won't be drowsy anymore, so I only need one hour of sleep a day to keep my body running."
"Merlin's beard..." Professor McGonagall buried her face in her hands, struggling to ask a question.
"Miss Amanda, when we Professors first gave you extra reading last year, did you finish it all by sleeping only one hour a night?"
Watching Professor McGonagall hide her face, Amanda opened her mouth, thought for a moment, then spoke.
"Yes, but Professor McGonagall, you don't need to worry. Studying is my duty as a student, and even without the extra reading the Professors assigned, my study time wouldn't change."
"Yes," Professor McGonagall gave a strained smile. "Madam Pince told us about the frequency and quantity of books you borrow—it's astonishing."
"So after this surgery, your grades improved?"
Cho Chang brought the topic back on track and continued asking about Amanda's experience.
"Yes. After that, I became the top student in the whole school."
"Then how were you scrapped? I mean, the bottom third gets scrapped, and you were first."
Marietta Eckmore sniffed, looking at Amanda in Hermione's arms.
"Because in the final year-end exam I dropped from first place to the bottom third."
"Why?" Penelope stared at Amanda in confusion; she wouldn't believe it was because Amanda had slacked off.
Putting everything else aside, after that kind of surgery, Amanda no longer had the capacity to slack or be careless.
Amanda nodded, her expression calm. "It wasn't that I slacked or was careless. I had diarrhea before and during the exam and couldn't finish the paper."
"Diarrhea?" Madam Pomfrey frowned, then recalled the gastrointestinal condition she'd found when examining Amanda.
With that condition, diarrhea did seem normal.
"Based on my observations, my parents have a new child, and judging by their attitude, there's about an eighty percent chance that child is a born prodigy."
"So?" Cho Chang was puzzled; having grown up in a happy family, she couldn't see the undercurrents behind that analysis.
"So, by cost-benefit calculation, discarding me to prevent my abnormalities from being discovered and raising the new prodigy instead is the better choice."
As Hermione listened, an extremely bad guess flashed through her mind.
She prayed the truth wasn't what she feared; if it were, everything would be too cruel and unfair to Amanda.
"By passing the year-end exam, they could achieve the goal of abandoning me. On the morning of the exam, after I finished preparing breakfast, they added three times the normal dose of laxatives."
Amanda, who often needed painkillers and was familiar with all kinds of knowledge—
how could she fail to taste the abnormality in her breakfast? She'd figured out the truth with the first bite.
But... it was her parents' choice, and she should obey her parents; they always had her best interests at heart.
So without hesitation she finished the breakfast and went to take an exam she was destined to fail.
"Those two—beasts!"
"I've never heard of such shamelessness—no, they're not even human!"
Curses erupted around the room; Hermione swore viciously, tightening her arms around Amanda to make sure she was still safely there.
Taking off her glasses and Witch's hat, Professor McGonagall looked at Amanda with reddened eyes.
"After that... you were... scrapped?"
"Yes." Amanda nodded, her face blank and unchanged.
"I really don't understand—why must children be driven to this?"
Professor McGonagall stared at Amanda; in her view every child should be cherished while growing up.
As long as they grew into people of good character, that was enough.
Grades and future achievements were far less important than the children themselves.
"Because we are the future, and we must take responsibility for it."
Amanda recited without hesitation; clearly she'd memorized these words.
"Many problems exist in the world—severe resource shortages, global warming, increasing disputes over resources."
"If we can't solve these problems, or can't protect our place from being wiped out in resource conflicts, we'll be the sinners of the future, the rejects of the future."
"Abandoned by the era. If we can't advance ourselves, every disaster and evil consequence of the future will be our fault."
"Because if we strive to improve ourselves, maybe we can find ways to avert those consequences—we..."
Before she could finish, Professor McGonagall gently pulled Amanda and Hermione into her arms.
"That's all rubbish," the Witch's aged yet powerful voice declared. "It's all buck-passing."
Professor McGonagall let go, knelt to Amanda's level, cupped the girl's cheeks, her gaze gentle.
"Listen, child, you're still young, not yet adults. Whatever storms the world holds, we adults will face them."
"As children, your job is to grow up healthy and happy—then to learn."
"Understand? Health and happiness come first. Make sure you grow up well; only then do you learn. Otherwise, if you're not okay, if you can't even live to grow up, what use is knowledge?"
"Healthy, happy growth before learning—those two can't be discarded. But if anyone tries to reverse that order—"
"—using possible future disasters or disputes as excuses to make you study recklessly—that's just shifting responsibility."
"Because problems that exist now should be solved by us adults now, not passed on to the next generation."
Professor McGonagall stood up, her straight back as though holding up the sky.
"The same will apply when you grow up: problems that arise then will be yours to solve."
"But we are the sun at eight or nine o'clock,"
Amanda answered instinctively; they should rush into the sky and burn themselves to light the world.
"I like that image—the sun at eight or nine, full of vigor," Professor McGonagall said warmly, glancing at the five Young Wizards present. "Just like all of you in your youth."
"But the sun at eight or nine should climb the sky bit by bit. Should we abandon the blazing noon sun and demand the newly risen dawn to light the world?"
"That would be our adults' incompetence." Professor McGonagall pointed to herself, then to Madam Pomfrey. "Whatever you've heard or learned before, from now on, Miss Amanda, I hope you take your time—grow healthy and happy first, then learn."
"And give us adults a chance to prove we're not cowards who shirk our duties."
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