At the Slytherin table.
Alice ate very little. Finishing early, she began reporting to Shawn on the shifts in the Slytherin students' attitudes.
"Most of the half-bloods and some of the less influential pure-bloods are intimidated by your iron-fisted methods, but they're really just watching from the sidelines, waiting for the elite pure-bloods to strike back. Things are a little better among the younger students."
Shawn took a sip of soy milk before replying.
"It doesn't matter. Years of conditioning from their fathers won't be undone so easily. As long as they don't openly provoke me, my gentle, nurturing methods will win them over sooner or later."
The corner of Alice's mouth twitched.
Shawn's methods were supposed to be "gentle and nurturing"?
Beside them, Draco failed to hold it in and accidentally choked, spraying food from his mouth.
"Cough, cough."
Shawn gave the two of them a sidelong glance.
"Am I wrong?"
Alice hurried to speak.
"I firmly support every decision the Chief makes!"
With food still in his mouth, Draco reacted a beat too late and could only mumble, "Yes, absolutely. Everything you say is right."
Shawn had finished eating too. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and said meaningfully,
"There's an old saying in the East: spare the rod and spoil the child; drill enough questions and produce a top scholar! Sooner or later, you'll understand how much I'm doing for you."
Just then, another flock of owls flew into the hall overhead.
Shawn received far fewer Howlers today. Using the same method as before, he calmly enclosed the dozen or so Howlers in a Water Prison and destroyed them.
Yet shrill screams still rang out along the Slytherin table.
More than a dozen pure-blood wizards, Draco included, were enduring the onslaught of Howlers in front of them.
"Draco, how dare you! You actually dared to question the noble Malfoy bloodline! Have you forgotten everything I've taught you since you were little? ... Just wait until you get home. I'll deal with you then!"
"Theodore Nott, remember that your surname is Nott! You actually dared to admire that boy from the Black family! You're disgracing yourself! ... If you keep refusing to listen to your sister, I'll cut off your allowance!"
"Marcus, you useless boy! You couldn't even beat a first-year! You're no son of mine! ... What did I teach you? If you can't win fair and square, use dirty tricks!"
"..."
Everyone who had received a Howler had written home the night before, either complaining and tattling or openly declaring their support for Shawn. Naturally, none of them had met with a good outcome.
Once the last Howler burned itself up, the entire hall fell silent.
The students from the other three houses hadn't realized Shawn was facing so much pressure, while Ron and those like him positively reveled in it.
Shawn dug at his ears, still numb from the noise, and watched the shifting expressions on the Slytherin students' faces.
He rose to his full height from the Chief's seat, his elegant, handsome face turning stern.
"No matter what your families tell you, as long as you haven't withdrawn from school and you're still in Slytherin, you will obey me!"
With that single declaration, Shawn quelled the strange, restless atmosphere. Then he fixed Marcus with a decidedly unfriendly stare.
"As for anyone planning dirty tricks behind my back, I welcome them. The consequences? Heh."
Terrified, Marcus dropped onto the floor and cried out incoherently.
"Ah! I wasn't planning any tricks! I won't listen to my family!"
Everyone else turned to look, marveling at the terrifying authority Shawn had established in just three days.
A single sentence had reduced the normally vicious, overbearing Marcus to this.
Shawn smiled at Marcus's reaction, inwardly lamenting that this sacrificial chicken probably wouldn't serve to scare the monkeys anymore.
He waved a casual hand.
"All right, everyone. Form your lines and head to class."
Coming back to their senses, the young snakes hurried to answer in unison.
"Yes, Chief!"
Only after the Slytherin House students had filed out in orderly lines did the students from the other three houses recover, their thoughts tangled and complicated.
Even Ron, who had been silently cursing Shawn, couldn't help shrinking back.
On the way to the Defense Against Dark Magic classroom, Shawn checked the progress of his [Conquer Hogwarts (Stage Two)] quest. It had already reached 20%.
Hmm, not bad.
But where could I find another sacrificial chicken?
The doors and windows of the Defense Against Dark Magic classroom were tightly shut, and the smell of garlic filled the room. At the front, Professor Quirrell, wearing an enormous turban, stammered his way through the textbook.
The students below were bored out of their minds.
Today, Shawn went straight to the back row, partly because he didn't want to attract Voldemort's attention yet, and partly for the sake of his nose.
The young snakes made much the same choice, leaving the front seats to the well-behaved Hufflepuff students sharing their class.
Knowing he was unlikely to learn anything in this lesson, Shawn quietly signaled for the young snakes to study their textbooks on their own.
He also took out a Transfiguration textbook titled A Hundred Analyses of Animal Anatomy and began reading it carefully.
He had asked Hermione to borrow it from the library yesterday. The Black Family Library was actually rather short on introductory books covering these basics of Transfiguration.
A Hundred Analyses of Animal Anatomy examined the various structures of animals' bodies.
Transfiguration wasn't simply a matter of shaping something into the desired appearance. Its internal structure was equally important.
Advanced Transfiguration could turn a stone into a lifelike magical creature.
Legendary transfiguration could even briefly restore one's body to its youth and bring one's fighting strength back to its peak. Professor McGonagall's notebook mentioned that Dumbledore might already be capable of this.
Mythical transfiguration, still only theoretical, could even create "people" capable of using wands, comparable to Sprinkling Beans to Create Soldiers in Chinese legends.
Shawn was reading an analysis of pythons when Quirrell inexplicably called on him.
"Sh-Shawn, y-you, please answer. H-how should one d-drive away a Red Cap?"
A cold glint flashed through Shawn's eyes. He had been singled out after all.
He stood and looked steadily at the cowering Quirrell.
"Professor, Red Caps are bloodthirsty creatures resembling goblins. They often lurk in the dungeons of old castles or the ruins of battlefields, waiting to ambush people who lose their way. As for dealing with them, I believe killing them is better than driving them off. I recommend the Reductor Curse."
Quirrell was a little dumbfounded and didn't know how to assess that answer. Everything Shawn had said at first was correct, but he had finished by recommending a violent execution.
A sudden pain in his head snapped him back to his senses, and he stammered,
"Ahem, th-that method is very s-suitable for a talented young wizard like you. The other students need only use Lumos to drive them away. F-five points to Slytherin."
After sitting down, Shawn rubbed his chin in thought, then put the matter out of his mind. Here at Hogwarts, Voldemort still wouldn't dare cause trouble openly before stealing what he wanted.
But after class, Quirrell stopped Shawn again. Only after signaling for everyone else to leave did he speak.
"Shawn, d-do you have some time in a moment?"
Shawn sighed inwardly.
"Professor, is there something you need?"
"W-well, your t-talent isn't suited to the normal pace of instruction. I intend to t-take you back to my office for some extra lessons."
That line sounded a little familiar.
Without dwelling on such stray thoughts, Shawn hurried to decline politely.
"Professor, I have to supervise Slytherin's evening study session later."
But the atmosphere suddenly turned cold, and Shawn thought he saw a vicious gleam flash through Quirrell's eyes. Deciding it wasn't wise to confront Voldemort yet, he added,
"Of course, I'm deeply honored by your special attention, Professor. Once the evening study sessions are running smoothly, I'll come and learn from you."
Quirrell exchanged a few words with Voldemort in his mind, then began spouting nonsense.
"Your father was a senior of mine at school, and he took very good care of me. I really can't bear to let your magical talent go to waste. Remember to come to my office before next Friday."
Quirrell delivered that sentence quite fluently, then left without another word.
Shawn stood silently where he was, ripples of anger stirring in his deep, calm gaze.
"Old Voldy, you actually dared to threaten me. Hmph. Don't blame me for milking you for everything you're worth!"
"Looks like I'll have to visit the Room of Requirement tonight."
And on the first day of school, the note he had given Dumbledore had read: I've also found the whereabouts of a Horcrux. The clue is at Hogwarts.