After Professor Flitwick dismissed the class, Hermione turned to Shawn with a question.
"Shawn, why did I..."
Afraid that Hermione's Gatling-gun mouth would launch an endless barrage of questions, Shawn hurriedly waved a hand.
"I know what you're going to ask. It's actually quite simple. Reading isn't about rote memorization. To master a subject, you need to think it over and examine it again and again. But everyone has limited energy, so you have to choose which knowledge to focus on. Hermione, your reading is far too scattered. You know a lot and remember it well, but you're still just learning by rote."
Hermione froze. Shawn had made himself perfectly clear.
She was exactly that sort of student. She memorized anything she thought she might need, but never gave it any thought of her own.
Following this path, she might become powerful, but she would never reach the very top.
Shawn left Hermione to her thoughts and tried to head outside again, only to be stopped once more.
This time, Draco blocked his path. He had rubbed his handsome, slicked-back hair into a bird's nest. He was covered in sweat and looked utterly drained.
"Shawn, why do I have to teach two idiots?"
Behind him, Goyle and Crabbe lowered their heads in shame.
Shawn felt exhausted. This was the downside of being reborn so young: he was surrounded by immature children.
He always had to play the "spiritual mentor."
"Draco, which gap in ability is bigger-the one between you and me, or the one between you and Goyle and Crabbe?"
Draco found the question baffling, but answered honestly anyway.
"Probably the gap between you and me. I can't even cast the Levitation Charm properly."
Shawn continued patiently guiding him.
"In that case, if I refused to teach you in the future and looked down on you for being too weak to deserve to follow me, would you cry?"
Draco paused. He was clever, too, and immediately understood what Shawn meant.
"You mean weaklings don't deserve to follow you. By the same token, I can't have weaklings under me, either. As their leader, I have to take responsibility for making them stronger."
Shawn blinked. That was quite an interpretation. He patted Draco on the shoulder.
"Hmm, I suppose you've just about grasped the first layer of meaning. Come on. Time to eat."
Hermione came out of her reverie then, too. Quietly gathering several hefty volumes of "extraneous reading" into her arms, she decided to return them to the library later.
They headed to the Great Hall together, where Shawn and Draco returned to the Slytherin table.
Hermione knew they would head back to their common room for evening study after dinner, so she did not join them.
Not long after she returned to the Ravenclaw Table, Harry shook off Ron and came over.
"Ron and the others said the homework isn't due until next week, so there's no hurry. They wanted me to play Wizard's Chess with them, too."
"Then why didn't you go?"
"Shawn's organized evening study for all of Slytherin, and Draco can learn from him whenever he wants. If I don't work harder, I'll only fall further behind them."
"Harry, you've grown. One day, you'll become someone as great as your parents."
At half past seven that evening, in Slytherin.
The common room had been arranged into six sections, each with sofas and tables set in a circle.
Almost every seat was occupied. Everyone was diligently working on their homework, quills scratching across parchment.
Several senior Prefects and high-achieving students had been assigned a schedule for making rounds. Whenever they encountered someone who did not understand something, they had to tutor them properly.
As a result, the study atmosphere throughout the common room was fairly good.
Naturally, some were only pretending to work. The pure-blood troublemakers, for instance, kept whispering to one another about this and that, but they did little to affect the overall situation.
Three students were once again hanging from the wall lamps nearby. They had either arrived late or hidden in their dormitories and refused to come out.
Well, Marcus was still among them.
Shawn sat reading on a small sofa atop the raised platform. He needed only to lift his eyes to survey the entire room.
He had deliberately designed the arrangement to foster a cult of personality. Through its subtle influence, a tendency toward blind obedience could quietly take shape.
At the entrance to the common room, Snape stood concealed in the shadows. Watching the orderly scene in Slytherin, he felt rather conflicted.
His hollow gaze flicked toward the poised, composed Shawn on the platform, and a figure from his memories gradually overlapped with the boy.
Snape clenched his fists, swept his sleeves aside, and turned to glide away.
Before long, Snape stood outside the Headmaster's Office.
"Cockroach Clusters."
At the password, a spiral staircase appeared. Snape strode up it and pushed straight through the door.
"Oh, Severus."
Dumbledore was playing with Fawkes beside his perch. Without turning around, he already knew who had arrived.
Snape wasted no words and demanded an answer.
"All-powerful Headmaster, why are you shielding Shawn from outside pressure? You should simply expel him. Do you know what he's doing in Slytherin right now? It's as though I'm seeing another You-Know-Who."
Dumbledore turned, his penetrating gaze resting on Snape through his blue spectacles.
"Shawn? As Headmaster, isn't protecting students from the storms outside only natural? And what sort of person he becomes is likewise something we, as his teachers, must guide."
Snape slammed a fist onto the desk. The bang startled the former headmasters dozing in their portraits on the walls.
"Then look at what he's doing now! He's practically turning Slytherin into his own barracks. Before long, he'll have his own Death Eaters, just like that man did!"
From his portrait, Phineas Black could not help launching into a tirade.
"You wretch! How could my great-grandson possibly be a bad person? He's restoring Slytherin's glory! You don't deserve-"
Snape flicked his wand, instantly silencing Phineas. His eyes remained fixed on Dumbledore.
Dumbledore returned to his desk and sat down, speaking gently.
"Hasn't Slytherin House changed for the better? As its head, shouldn't you be pleased? Severus, you're being too sensitive. You must understand that Shawn has love."
Snape had had enough of Dumbledore's hypocrisy. His voice grew colder still.
"I don't care what filthy bargain you've struck with that arrogant boy. Even if a third Dark Lord does emerge, that isn't my concern. I have only one question: are you certain that man really isn't dead?"
At this, Dumbledore's expression grew more serious.
"Severus, I feel he has already returned. I can only hope my trap works. Please protect Harry. His eyes look so much like Lily's."
Snape took several deep breaths, barely suppressing the guilt and longing in his heart.
"...I understand."
With that, his cold demeanor returned. He swept his sleeves aside, turned, and swept out like a great bat, slamming the door behind him.
Dumbledore tapped lightly on his desk, lost in thoughts no one else could fathom.
On the desk lay a letter from the International Wizarding Alliance, reporting unusual activity among the remnants of Grindelwald's Army.
"Ah, Tom may have returned, and now there's trouble with Gellert as well. As for Shawn, I'll watch him a little longer. Hopefully, he really can find the Horcrux."
Looking weary, Dumbledore rose and addressed Fawkes.
"Sorry for the trouble, but please take me to Nurmengard."