Yet the instant her foot crossed the threshold, the entire Slytherin table erupted in a violent explosion.
The table became splinters, the splinters became sawdust, the sawdust became drifting ash.
By the time Lynn had fully stepped out of the Great Hall, the Slytherin table—and everything on it—had been reduced to dust.
There had been no warning, and the speed was inconceivable; even the Professors at the Staff Table hadn't reacted.
After a full two-second daze, Professor Snape strode forward with a cold face, flicking his wand to disperse the dust.
Fortunately, the Slytherin students had been shielded in advance by Lynn with two large, wandless, silent Shield Charms—none were harmed.
The only casualty of the blast was Draco himself; a good portion of his long hair had been blown away, and he sat slack-jawed, staring at the empty space before him.
There should have been the Slytherin table; now there was nothing.
Walking swiftly toward the History of Magic classroom, Lynn's face remained impassive.
She didn't believe she'd done anything wrong—at most, she'd damaged school property.
A quiet instinct told her to protect the Little Eagles of Ravenclaw, so she had easily chosen to shield that older student.
Even if the chance of the girl being discovered had been almost zero, she would reduce that chance to zero.
As for shielding the Little Snakes just now—she only wanted to destroy evidence, not kill classmates, so of course she'd protect them; that was normal.
Except for Draco Malfoy; he and his father had threatened Hermione and the others.
Therefore, in Lynn's eyes they were potential threats, and Hermione's life ranked above her own.
If necessary, Lynn wouldn't hesitate to trade her life for the Malfoy father and son to eliminate the danger to Hermione.
It was worth it, Lynn decided firmly in her mind as she sat down in the History of Magic classroom.
At that moment five bruises marked her left thigh—punishment she had given herself yesterday in the Ravenclaw Common Room for damaging school property while proving her abilities.
And she had just destroyed the Slytherin table; tonight back in her Dormitory she would add another cut to her thigh as penance.
Inside the Great Hall the Slytherins' faces were dark; Professor Snape shot an angry look toward Headmaster Dumbledore on the Staff Table, wordlessly demanding an investigation.
Headmaster Dumbledore rose, drew his wand, and gave a gentle wave toward Slytherin; a faint halo settled over them.
While the Headmaster investigated, Penelope turned her gaze to the older girl who had "acted" today, eyes asking: Did you do this?
The girl in question looked bewildered and innocent, shaking her head emphatically.
It hadn't been her; she had no idea. Blowing up a table was nothing, but detonating one in front of so many unsuspecting Professors—she wasn't that good.
Exchanging glances with Maranhao and Marietta beside her, Penelope felt a suspicion take shape.
The corner of her mouth curved upward. Lynn… still sided with them after all.
Unlike Penelope and the others, Hermione thought of Lynn the moment she saw the Slytherin table explode.
No Professor would do such a thing; of those left who could pull it off under the Professors' noses, Lynn was her first thought.
So when Headmaster Dumbledore himself began casting detection spells, Hermione's heart leapt into her throat.
This was Headmaster Dumbledore—what if he found Lynn?
Fortunately, even with the Headmaster's personal inspection, nothing could be gleaned from the dust that had scattered Merlin-knew-where.
As for magical traces—Lynn had spoken no incantation and used no wand; he could only identify it as a Blasting Curse.
Nothing more could be determined.
Seeing Headmaster Dumbledore shake his head, Professor Snape drew a deep breath. "Very well, Slytherin, off to class."
With that he strode to Draco, thrust a vial of Potion into his hand, and swept out of the Great Hall.
Unwilling to let it go, the Slytherins shot resentful glares at Gryffindor; years of rivalry made them instinctively blame the Lions.
Only Draco, gulping down Snape's Potion, swept a dark gaze between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.
He knew he had antagonized members of both houses—they were all suspects.
Facing the Slytherins' scowls, the accustomed Gryffindors chatted and laughed their way to lessons.
They could ride that scene for a whole year.
Even if they had to take the blame, they'd gladly wear it.
As for Ravenclaw, the Little Eagles scarcely noticed Draco's brooding stare.
Apart from the absolute exception of Lockhart, every Ravenclaw had spellwork that outpaced their year.
Afraid of Malfoy's revenge? Don't mention the House of Malfoy.
For a thousand years Ravenclaw had produced academic talents—Alchemy, Charms, Potions—no field went untouched.
If it came to a clash, the House of Malfoy might not come out on top.
Antagonizing one gifted scholar is foolish; antagonizing a flock of them is utter idiocy.
Though the young Mr. Malfoy clearly hadn't learned this—nor had pure-blood die-hards like Marcus Flint.
Their parents understood, or if not now, they would eventually.
For a millennium these academic minds had never truly united, but now they clearly had a center.
Like a storm, once it found its eye, it began to whirl and strengthen.
Turning pages without the faintest change of expression, Lynn recited the History of Magic textbook.
Soon the second-year Little Eagles filed into the classroom, automatically clustering around her; they already had fixed seats for every lesson.
Gathered around Lynn, they formed an unmistakable protective ring.
---------------------------------
If you'd like to read the next 70 chapters in advance, you can support me on Patreon.
I regularly post chapter previews there, so you'll always be up-to-date and won't have to wait too long.
patreon.com/SolyuraMT
And if you enjoy the story, don't forget to give me a Power Stone. Your support really motivates me to continue translating!