Evening was when the students naturally gathered. When they realized the Quidditch strategy logs were missing from the common room bulletin board, confusion and suspicion quickly flared.
Word spread like wildfire. One person told ten, ten told a hundred. Within minutes, every Ravenclaw in the house knew the data was gone.
They crowded into the common room, shoulder to shoulder, furiously whispering and speculating.
Richie walked in, saw the commotion, and quietly slipped into the middle of the crowd to watch his plan unfold.
Moments later, the four prefects stepped out from the stairwells.
"The Prefects are here!"
"Joel!"
"Penelope!"
The crowd naturally parted as the four of them approached the empty bulletin board. They exchanged a quick glance, seamlessly falling into the roles they had rehearsed.
"Despite our best efforts to prevent this, the worst has happened," Joel announced, his voice carrying over the crowd.
The room instantly fell dead silent.
"Threats..."
Joel flicked his wand. A stack of hate mail they had collected over the last few days flew out of a corner and scattered across the floor.
The Eagles stared at the letters, shocked.
"Bribery. Extortion..."
"Even our own prefects have been attacked."
A heavy iron box clattered onto the floor in front of them, the loud clang making several students jump.
"And tonight... the culmination of all our collective hard work, the strategy logs, have been stolen..." Joel's voice tightened with manufactured grief. "If this is what they do today, what are they going to do tomorrow? Or the day after?"
Angry, hushed whispers rippled through the crowd.
Penelope stepped forward, picking up the thread. "What is their actual goal here? Do you really believe they're doing all of this just to win a standard Quidditch match?"
She left the question hanging, letting the students' imaginations run wild.
Tristan stepped up next. "We Ravenclaws have never cared for pointless conflict. We debate purely for truth and logic. We seek knowledge, unravel mysteries, and use the starlight of wisdom to pierce the dark."
"We believe that a sharp mind is the greatest treasure, and that is what drives us forward."
The Eagles nodded along, a deep, collective sense of house pride swelling in their chests.
"But now, someone has explicitly trampled on our intellectual property!" Prefect Renee Barnes yelled, her face flushed with righteous anger. "This isn't just about winning or losing a Quidditch match anymore. This is a direct attack on Ravenclaw's dignity!"
Suddenly, Quidditch Captain Razim Gideon shouted from the back of the crowd.
"Even if they steal our data, they can't steal our drive! They can't steal our training!" Razim raised a fist. "Do you all remember our team motto?"
"When we treat the Golden Snitch and the Bludgers as variables, and the pitch as our parchment..." Razim began.
The entire Quidditch team immediately chanted the rest in unison:
"Then our broomsticks become our quills, and the sky becomes our ink!" "Quidditch is no longer just a sport; it is the ultimate test of intellect!"
Razim glared at the crowd. "We proved we could win once, and we can prove it a hundred times over!"
The team stood tall, vibrating with energy.
But seeing the team's fierce resolve only made the rest of the house feel worse. They were the ones who had spent weeks analyzing games and tracking stats. Their hard work had been stolen, and the atmosphere in the room was reaching a boiling point.
That was when Joel delivered the final blow.
"We are not going to keep our heads down and pretend this didn't happen!" Joel yelled. "If they are that desperate to win, then we are going to show them the true power of Ravenclaw's intellect!"
Joel swept his gaze across the furious crowd. "I am calling on every single Ravenclaw in this room!"
"Whether you are a Chaser, a Beater, a Keeper, or a sidelines analyst. Whether you are a first-year, a second-year, or a seventh-year!"
"Grab your quills! Dig into your memories! Remember every single detail, every flight path, every tactical formation, every opposing player's habit... I want every piece of data, observation, and analysis you can remember written down right now!"
"They can steal our paper, but they cannot steal our minds!"
"We are going to use the most precise data, the most rigorous analysis, and absolute unity to rebuild what they took! We are going to show those cowards hiding in the shadows exactly what happens when you provoke a flock of eagles!"
In the middle of the crowd, Terry violently punched the air. "RAVENCLAW!"
For a split second, the common room was completely silent.
And then, an unprecedented, deafening roar ripped through the tower.
"RAVENCLAW!!"
Up in the rafters, the Grey Lady peeked out from behind a bookshelf, looking entirely bewildered by the screaming crowd. Am I in the Gryffindor tower by mistake? she wondered.
Fired up by the prefects, the Eagles scrambled to their dorms, grabbed their notebooks and quills, and immediately rushed back to the common room. The room became a hive of frantic, unified activity as students huddled together, cross-referencing memories, debating theories, and aggressively rebuilding the Quidditch strategy database from scratch.
The Slytherin saboteurs probably never imagined that their attempt to break Ravenclaw would forge them into a unified, highly motivated war machine.
It was a battle of wits and manipulation, and the scales had officially tipped.
---
Richie quietly slipped out of the common room and followed the four prefects into an empty corridor.
"Well. That worked better than expected," Richie said, raising an eyebrow at Joel.
Joel rubbed his face, letting out a long exhale. "Honestly, that was incredibly stressful. Now we just have to make sure they don't get too out of control. Once the match is over, we'll casually 'find' the original logs and bring them back."
Penelope leaned against the stone wall, smirking. "You were incredible out there, Joel. You had them eating out of the palm of your hand. Looked like you were actually enjoying yourself."
Joel waved her off, embarrassed. "I got caught up in the energy! It just felt so... unified."
Tristan nodded in agreement. "In all my years here, I've never seen Ravenclaw this united. Usually, everyone just studies in their own corners. Half the house doesn't even know each other's names. But tonight? They were literally screaming together."
Renee crossed her arms, looking serious. "That isolated culture is exactly why the other houses thought we were easy targets. We need to capitalize on this and keep this momentum going. Studying is a lot easier when you actually have people backing you up."
The others murmured their agreement.
Joel turned to Richie with a warm smile. "Honestly, I can't believe how much Ravenclaw has changed in less than a year. And it's basically all because of you, Richie."
"You were the one who figured out how to get everyone hyped about Quidditch. You got people talking, strategizing, and actually working together. You proved that Ravenclaws can love knowledge and want to win glory at the same time."
Hearing that, Richie awkwardly scratched the back of his head. All of this was just a chain reaction of bizarre accidents. He honestly just wanted to study magic in peace.
"If Richie were older, I'd formally nominate him for Prefect right now," Joel continued. "With him leading the charge, this house is only going to get better."
The other three nodded vigorously.
"We could write the recommendation letters now and hand them off to the next rotation of prefects," Tristan suggested.
"Once he hits fifth year, they'll automatically pick him!" Renee added.
"Oh, that's brilliant!" Penelope agreed.
Richie: (...・ω・...)