Penelope's lips curved in approval—Senior Platt had read her mind.
Typical Ravenclaw brilliance.
Every Little Eagle thought the same: of course a contract was necessary—exactly what they would have done.
Truly, they were all Ravenclaws!
One by one they signed; the parchment remained on the common-room table.
When other Eagles returned from classes, those present explained and had them add their names.
By lunchtime, every Ravenclaw knew.
Students of the other three Houses then witnessed an astonishing sight:
the entire Ravenclaw Table eagerly heaping food onto Lynn's plate; if a dish wasn't within reach, it was swiftly swapped in.
She tasted nearly every dish on the table.
Harry and Ron, sitting at the Gryffindor Table, stared slack-jawed at the scene.
They knew Lynn was popular inside Ravenclaw—everyone adored her.
But wasn't this a bit… over the top?
It looked as though they were one step away from spoon-feeding her.
"What's gotten into them?" Ron asked, glancing across at Hermione. "And didn't you sit with The Ravenclaws yesterday?"
"You skipped class this morning too—what happened?"
Harry's face was equally hungry for answers; even boys get curious about these things.
Hermione glanced left and right, then beckoned Harry and Ron to lean closer.
They obediently stretched their torsos over the table.
Hermione wet her lips and, in a whisper only the three of them could hear, recounted Lynn's background and everything she'd been through.
"By Merlin," Ron breathed, eyes bulging in horror, "bad grades mean death?!"
"That's terrifying—I wouldn't last two years in that world."
"Me neither," Harry said, wincing. "Sounds suffocating."
Hermione nodded gravely. "Extremely. Honestly, I dread to think what the suicide rate must be."
Harry and Ron fell silent; no imagination was needed—the rate had to be sky-high.
"No wonder Lynn studies like her life depends on it," Harry sighed. "Her own parents messed her up that badly."
Ron nodded in agreement; he used to think his mum was strict—sometimes even neglectful.
But now he realized how dearly she loved him.
And it was a love that asked for nothing; what more could he want?
Hermione looked back at Lynn, surrounded by attentive Ravenclaws. If her former family hadn't loved her, so be it—she didn't need them.
Right now, Lynn clearly had more than enough people who did.
At the Staff Table, Professor Flitwick—her Dean—had also heard the story from Professor McGonagall.
The former dueling champion felt his blood surge; his face flushed crimson.
"How dare her parents! She's their child—Merlin's beard!"
Professor Flitwick rapped the table with his knife for emphasis.
Beside him, Professor Sprout gazed at Lynn with sorrow; the girl had suffered so much.
Thank goodness Hogwarts was here now—it would be a home for every young Witch or wizard who walked through its doors.
When her gaze drifted to Hufflepuff, she felt a surge of gratitude that her Little Badgers were gentle and kind.
They stood with Lynn too, and as their Head she trusted they would give the girl the same warmth The Ravenclaws offered.
To keep the discussion private, the Professors had tactfully sent Lockhart away beforehand.
So only reliable staff remained at the table—including Professor Snape.
Those bottomless black eyes rested on the Ravenclaw Table, as though Snape were watching his own childhood through Lynn.
No… perhaps his own early years had been easier by comparison.
Look at the world she came from and the parents she had—a pair of Trolls if ever there were.
Yet… Snape remembered docking points from her and the petty reasons he'd done so.
Was he turning into the very sort of adult he had once despised?
After all, he was a Professor. He bit slowly into a sausage.
Dark eyes swept across the four House tables; perhaps he should try treating Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff with equal, quiet fairness.
As for Gryffindor… sorry, he'd need more time to prepare himself.
He lowered his head again. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had not missed the small drama.
Dumbledore set down his cutlery and looked at Snape with quiet pride.
If Severus could take this step, it would be a very good thing indeed.
All these years Severus had taught at Hogwarts.
As his once-Professor, Albus could sense the change in him:
from the boy who had cared only for power, with no reverence for life, to the man he was now.
It was hard not to attribute that to the generations of students he had taught.
Watching new life grow strong before his eyes must have softened something inside him.
McGonagall's eyes shone with delight; if Severus could truly open his heart and stop locking himself away, she would be overjoyed.
After lunch, none of the five young witches—including Lynn and Hermione—skipped that afternoon's classes as McGonagall had offered.
Even though she had excused them, they still attended.
After all, if Lynn herself went without hesitation, the rest could hardly do less.
They were all diligent students; none wanted to fall behind, even if they had already studied the material.
Lynn's afternoon class was History of Magic, widely regarded as Hogwarts' most soporific subject.
Seated in the classroom, she scribbled notes at lightning speed while Professor Binns' droning voice worked like a sleeping potion.
The Little Eagles beside her, who usually napped through this period, now forced themselves to stay alert and listen.
Knowing her past, they refused to leave her to face the lecture alone; they would keep her company.
That way, if exhaustion suddenly hit her, she could doze off without worry—
because they were taking proper notes and could lend them to her later.
The Little Badgers sharing the lesson blinked in sleepy bewilderment at the wide-awake eagles.
What's going on? they thought, yawning. Why aren't The Ravenclaws sleeping today?
Oh well… more swots in class meant easier note-borrowing later.
As for themselves? Badger can't take it; badger's out. Badger's going to sleep.
Abandoning all resistance, they drooped forward and slumped into blissful slumber.
Meanwhile, high above the castle, world consciousness absorbed every pang of anger and tenderness Hogwarts felt for Lynn.
That love and protectiveness became the cornerstone, with Hogwarts—and Hermione—as anchors, of a vast design now slowly taking shape.
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