The entire analysis took less than five seconds; Senior Lin Yue had already reached her final conclusion.
"First, the future is not fixed; it changes as people make different choices. Therefore, so-called prophecies in the Wizarding World are more like fragments of a possible future than decisive factors."
"The only decisive factor for how the future unfolds is people themselves."
Senior Lin Yue's gaze drifted slowly to Harry. "So the biggest factor deciding whether you die in the future is you, Harry."
"Second," she continued after a two-second pause, still expressionless, "based on the past two years, we can basically conclude that Voldemort isn't truly dead."
Hearing the name, Harry felt a surge of nameless anger; Ron shuddered involuntarily; Hermione nodded at Senior Lin Yue.
"He's simply too weak to appear, and the person he most wants to kill is Harry."
At this point, Senior Lin Yue tilted her head. Though her face remained blank, her tone carried an unusual note of obviousness.
"As long as he isn't dead, Harry's in mortal danger every day—so why worry about some prophecy?"
Harry scratched his messy hair, realizing that as long as Voldemort lived, his own life would be in constant peril.
"Makes sense… I don't need to worry at all."
Obvious relief spread across his face; he'd been over-worried ever since spotting that big black dog on the roadside.
With that knot untied, the two boys, Harry and Ron, resumed chatting and laughing on their way to the Great Hall.
Hermione linked arms with Senior Lin Yue, following behind them and shaking her head at their carefree chatter.
Really… no worry sticks to boys for long.
Watching Harry's back, Senior Lin Yue quickly connected two points in her mind.
Harry said he'd seen a big black dog when leaving the Dursley family; later, while staying in Diagon Alley, she'd noticed the same dog tailing him.
And that dog could be identified as an Animagus.
She grouped the two sightings as one and the same animal—too coincidental otherwise.
So the dog was a Wizard in Animagus form, obviously targeting Harry.
Who the Wizard was and what the purpose might be remained unknown; the only certainty was a lack of hostile intent.
Otherwise, Harry wouldn't have strolled Diagon Alley with her and Hermione—he'd have met trouble the night he left the Dursleys.
Insufficient data, her brain replied; the deduction stalled. All she could confirm was that the illegal Animagus's target was Harry.
And nothing more—no further information existed.
The afternoon Transfiguration Class, shared by Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, once again showcased Senior Lin Yue's point-winning talent.
Given her own Animagus ability, Transfiguration posed no difficulty for her.
Professor McGonagall watched her student with pride; admittedly, Senior Lin Yue's talent and effort accounted for most of her success.
But she had taught the girl something, and that was enough reason to feel proud.
That pride translated into a generous twenty-five points awarded for the superb Transfiguration displayed in class.
Older students heading to dinner were long used to Ravenclaw's gem count sky-rocketing.
Only first-years gaped at how quickly Ravenclaw House accumulated points.
One tiny Little Eagle tugged a senior's sleeve, asking if the hour-glass might be malfunctioning—how else could Ravenclaw jump so far in a single day?
Among the other three house hour-glasses holding only a few gems, Ravenclaw's stood out dramatically.
The senior set down knife and fork, glanced at the hour-glass, and answered calmly, "It's not broken. No one's ever seen it break; the Founders made it to last."
"Then our points…"
"Rising fast, right?"
"Mm-hmm!" the first-year nodded vigorously.
The senior looked toward Senior Lin Yue, who was quietly eating, and smiled with fond pride.
"Because we have Senior Lin Yue. With her, this sort of scoring is normal—you'll get used to it."
The first-year's eyes widened, mouth agape; suddenly the third-year seemed impossibly tall…
Unaware of the attention, Senior Lin Yue finished her meal, straightened, and wiped her mouth.
"Full?" asked Senior Cho Chang, sipping pumpkin juice.
"Full," she replied evenly.
"Library?" added Marietta Eckmore Edgecombe, swallowing a bite of steak.
"Need to borrow some books."
"Let's go then." Both friends sped through the rest of their food and followed her out.
At the Gryffindor Table, Hermione Granger grabbed a roll and hurried after them.
"Merlin—she can't even wait to finish eating?"
Ron, a chicken leg in each hand, stared after her; nothing outweighed dinner in his view.
"That's Hermione in love—one-sided, apparently," Harry said, cutting his lamb. Whether it was truly one-sided, no one could say.
Though Senior Lin Yue hadn't given an answer, her actions hardly ruled romance out.
"Ugh—taste of love," Ron mumbled, mouth full of chicken.
Inside the Library, Senior Lin Yue swiftly collected the books she needed and began speed-reading and memorizing.
Cho Chang, Marietta Eckmore Edgecombe, and the trailing Hermione each borrowed a necessary volume and sat beside her to read.
Book after book she turned, memorizing each; prompted by Hermione, she still took a break every hour.
During her last break, a first-year Little Eagle nervously walked up and handed Senior Lin Yue her notebook.
"Senior Lin Yue… I—I have a question for you."
While reviewing the day's lessons she'd hit a concept she couldn't grasp; the older students had said that if she was stuck she should ask Amanda.
They'd promised Amanda would explain things patiently—and right now she was in the Library, not reading, just resting—so the Little Eagle mustered her courage and went straight up to ask.
Amanda took the notebook, skimmed the problem, and—without a pause—spat out the approach, the method, and the final answer as her mind raced ahead.
The Little Eagle nodded along, eyes growing brighter; Amanda's explanation was simple yet sweeping, weaving in every useful related point she judged worth knowing.
Adoration filled the first-year's face—darling, the seniors were right: Senior Lin Yue was Ravenclaw's darling!
More and more first-year Little Eagles drifted over, circling Amanda to listen; the moment she finished they thrust forward their own questions, begging for help.
The Little Eagles queued neatly, the air buzzing yet orderly.
Cho Chang and Marietta Eckmore exchanged smiles, then each raised a camera as agreed.
From two angles they snapped shot after shot of Amanda and her flock of Little Eagles.
From now on every photo had to be taken and kept—they would matter later.
Watching Cho and Marietta Eckmore click away, Hermione blinked in puzzlement.
Why were Senior Cho Chang and Senior Marietta Edgecombe suddenly photographing Amanda?
They must have their reasons, Hermione decided, shaking the thought off and pricking up her ears to catch Amanda's explanations.
Though only first-years were asking, Amanda's breadth was so vast that the extensions she offered were useful even to Hermione, a top third-year.
When the last Little Eagle's question was answered, curfew was near; Amanda packed up, borrowed the books from Madam Pince, and left the Library.
Hermione linked arms affectionately while Cho and Marietta Eckmore behind them happily reviewed their shots.
That single evening, nearly every Ravenclaw first-year accepted her title as Ravenclaw's darling.
A senior so kind, so knowledgeable, so guaranteed to earn points—of course she was a darling, an absolute darling!
In just one day they understood what the older students had hinted at during the Start-of-Term Feast.
"Tomorrow's our first Defense Against the Dark Arts class—wonder how it'll go this year."
Hermione said, toweling her hair after her shower; across the dorm Cho and Marietta Eckmore looked up.
"Should be fine. Professor Lupin cast a Patronus Charm, so at least he's no Gilderoy Lockhart-style fraud."
"Exactly," Marietta Eckmore agreed. "He seems normal—no Lockhart flash, no Quirrell stammer."
Hermione lifted a hand to her face, half-laughing, half-helpless. "Hearing it like that, Professor Lupin does sound perfect."
Yes, by now the standard for a defense against the dark arts professor wasn't whether they taught well.
It was whether they were a functional human being with a scrap of skill.
"Isn't Amanda taking that class tomorrow too?" Cho asked, glancing at Amanda at the desk.
Hearing her full name, Amanda closed her book and turned. "Yes—this year Gryffindor third-years and Ravenclaw third-years share the lesson."
"Perfect," Marietta Eckmore clapped her hands together. "Keep an eye on Professor Lupin for us; if he's no good… we'll restart our study group like last term."
Amanda nodded mechanically. "All right, no problem."
Hermione pressed her lips; she knew wishing for this was wrong—very wrong.
Yet… why did she, just a tiny bit, hope Professor Lupin might not be that good—only a sliver of a wish.
After six hours of sleep and breakfast, Amanda and Hermione stepped into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Inside stood a huge, ancient-looking wardrobe; Professor Lupin waved cheerfully.
"Good morning, Miss Amanda, Miss Granger."
Amanda blinked. "Good morning, Professor Lupin."
Her mind stuttered—she'd never arrived before a Professor before.
Hermione greeted him politely as well.
"Still not used to being called Professor," Lupin laughed, patting the wardrobe behind him.
"This is today's lesson prop—well, strictly speaking, a creature locked inside."
Amanda's gaze flicked to the wardrobe; instinct almost made her name the inhabitant aloud.
"Don't say it yet," Lupin chuckled, waving them off. "I'll ask during class."
"I'd heard Gryffindor's Miss Granger and Ravenclaw's Miss Amanda were formidable—now I see it's true."
"You're too kind, Professor," Hermione flushed.
"I only do what a student should," Amanda said flatly, voice devoid of inflection.
Lupin paused, said nothing more; the famous Amanda of Hogwarts truly was… "special."
He recalled Headmaster Dumbledore's private briefing about her when he'd taken the post, and sighed inwardly.
Another child scarred by life; having been infected by a Werewolf as a boy, he knew how bleak a painful childhood could be.
Had he not found Hogwarts and friends like James and Peter, he dreaded to think what would have become of him.
But that traitor Sirius… Lupin's fingers tightened around his wand.
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