Even for Ravenclaws—natural high-achievers with no small share of pride—genuine admiration was hard won.
But judging by the current situation, everyone genuinely admires Lynn.
Before doing something, you should first let the other party confirm that you're capable of doing it.
Then let them choose whether they want you to do it.
At this thought, Lynn unhesitatingly drew her wand and pointed it at a seventh-year boy in front of her.
"Senior, sorry, I might offend you, but I need to prove my ability to everyone."
Hearing Lynn's emotionless tone, the senior facing her nodded trustingly and drew his own wand, standing in place.
The Little Eagles around silently stepped back; no one worried—after all, this was Lynn.
Their Ravenclaw darling would never hurt them.
"Expelliarmus."
Before the seventh-year senior could react, his wand flew helplessly from his hand and was caught by Lynn.
Immediately, Lynn turned her wand toward an empty patch of floor; the next spell wasn't suitable for aiming at a person.
Lynn's mind raced: no one present could withstand it—anyone hit would definitely end up in the Hospital Wing.
"Stupefy."
Bang! A loud crash; tiles on the ground shattered, even the Castle's floor cracked.
"Impedimenta."
She turned her wand at a chair beside the empty space; struck by her Impediment Jinx, the chair lurched backward as if shoved by an invisible barrier.
"Reducto." The poor chair was instantly pulverized.
Spell after spell flowed from Lynn's wand, progressing from easy to difficult.
Second-, third-, fourth-year, all the way up to seventh-year Defense Against the Dark Arts spells—none stumped her.
And the power of each spell she cast was far from ordinary.
As Lynn kept casting, the Little Eagles' eyes grew wider. They knew she was good, but this good? Had Merlin himself given her private tutoring?
When the final spell appeared, everyone's jaws dropped.
"Protego."
An invisible shield sprang up in front of Lynn—and beside the others. Calling it "invisible" might be wrong.
The moment it appeared, it plowed a deep gouge into the walls, floor, and ceiling on either side.
Clearly the Shield Charm had embedded itself into the wall—its range was enormous.
"By Merlin… she's the real Ravenclaw."
A dazed Little Eagle voiced what every other Little Eagle was thinking.
Clearing every year's spells in second year, and at strengths far beyond normal—
That's true "cleverness," true "love of learning," isn't it?
Compared with Lynn… they all felt like fake Ravenclaws.
With a flick of her wand she dismissed the Shield Charm and cast "Reparo" repeatedly, mending everything she had broken.
Demonstrating her ability on school property was justified, but damaging it was still wrong—wrong is wrong.
Just like back home: apart from meals and sleep, every moment was study time.
Doing chores was naturally expected.
Yet if she wasn't mentally reviewing lessons while working, it counted as lost study time—a violation of her own rule.
One thing at a time; her standards for herself had to be the highest and strictest.
One chair, the floor, the ceiling, both walls—five pieces of school property damaged in total.
She committed the count to memory, pocketed her wand, turned to the Ravenclaw students, and spoke methodically.
"I have now cast every Defense Against the Dark Arts spell from first through seventh year. May I ask: do you recognize my ability?"
Though phrased as a question, her tone was almost certain; every Ravenclaw felt a pang of guilt.
"We recognize it."
"We do."
"Of course we do."
"If we didn't, Lady Ravenclaw herself would call us fools."
Voices chimed in from every side, all expressing absolute trust and recognition of Lynn's skill.
Seeing everyone affirm her, Penelope, Maranhao, and Marietta broke into happy smiles.
Penelope smoothed her hair and looked at the assembled Little Eagles.
"Since Lynn will be our study group's main tutor, we can't offer nothing in return."
A gleam flashed in her eyes. "I propose we take charge of her snacks. I'll start—this week I'll buy them for her."
And feed her, she silently added, remembering how jealous she'd felt watching Hermione feed Lynn snacks back at the villa.
Watching Lynn chew with that blank expression was endlessly entertaining—she'd eat whatever you offered, so obedient it was adorable.
Maranhao and Marietta, who'd also stayed at the villa, instantly caught on and spun toward Penelope.
Well done, Senior—quick thinking.
"I'll take week two!" Maranhao said hastily.
Marietta changed what she'd been about to say: "Week three is mine!"
By now the rest of the Little Eagles had caught up: feed snacks to Lynn—to their Ravenclaw darling!
A chorus of claims rang out. Lynn stared blankly at her excited classmates.
Her brain told her clearly: they were thrilled at the chance to buy her snacks—and to feed them to her.
Yet her brain couldn't tell her why.
She couldn't grasp why they'd eagerly, even competitively, spend their own resources on something that offered them no study benefit.
Understanding or not, the snack-feeding plan was set: Lynn's snacks for the entire school year had been "outsourced."
Clearly, the previously snack-deprived Lynn could now enjoy treats in healthy moderation.
As for any later volunteers from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or maybe even Slytherin—
They could queue up; for the whole year, the right to feed Lynn belonged solely to Ravenclaw—plus Gryffindor's Miss Granger.
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