The next day.
With no classes that morning, Shawn went wandering around Ravenclaw Tower after supervising morning study.
He did not happen to run into the Grey Lady.
He stopped a few young Ravenclaws to ask about her, only to learn that even Ravenclaw students could go years without seeing their house ghost, let alone students from other houses. Some of them did not even know the Grey Lady existed.
Shawn had no choice but to give up and ask Hermione to keep an eye out for him.
Then he returned to his dormitory to practice meditation.
Although he now had the wand Kunikuzushi to help him cast spells, he still wanted to work on all three fronts. Who would complain about having too many ways to grow stronger?
Shawn's Occlumency was maxed out. Not only could he shut away his emotions to stay calm, but he could also manipulate them at will and construct false memories.
He was nothing like that amateur Snape, who had to spend all day looking like a man who could never get a wife just to maintain his Occlumency.
Thanks to his maxed-out Occlumency, Shawn's meditation went smoothly, allowing him to skip straight past the stage of simply zoning out.
He sat cross-legged on his bed, regulated his breathing, rested his palms on his knees, closed his eyes, and turned his senses inward.
Suddenly, he felt as though he were slowly observing the inside of his own body from a hazy, godlike perspective.
Though the view was unclear, he could faintly sense his blood flowing.
Time flew as he meditated. Before he knew it, noon had arrived, and he only stopped when Draco came to call him for lunch.
"Shawn, what were you doing just now? Why didn't you come out and have some fun?"
"Meditating. You wouldn't understand even if I explained. Where were you off having fun? On a date with your little girlfriend Pansy?"
Draco's animated expression froze, and he sighed.
"Pansy doesn't understand me. We stopped hanging out ages ago."
Shawn said nothing more. Those two had not ended up together in the original story, either.
Pansy's family had fallen somewhat into decline and hoped to use pure-blood supremacy to restore its fortunes and maintain appearances. As a result, Pansy was among the first-years who did not support Shawn.
After they ate in the Great Hall, Shawn led the first-year Slytherins toward the Castle Dungeons.
They had a double Potions class that afternoon.
Before they reached the Potions Classroom, Harry caught up with them, panting from his run.
Seeing the young Slytherins marching in two neat, uniform lines, he almost felt too awkward to approach Shawn.
Draco was the one who pulled him over to his side.
"Hey, Harry, don't be shy."
Harry adjusted his glasses and politely greeted Shawn, then awkwardly searched for something to talk about.
"Draco, did you prepare for Potions class? I only just managed to finish reading the textbook."
Draco tilted his chin up and replied proudly.
"Of course I did. We have study sessions both morning and evening."
"I really envy your house, having a leader like Shawn."
Draco shuddered instinctively, then slung an arm around Harry's shoulders and started telling him how much new material he had learned.
That was Draco for you. He was worked like a beast of burden, yet insisted on boasting as though he were living the good life.
And so, between Harry and Draco, one dared to brag, and the other dared to believe him.
Not far from the Slytherin procession, the other Gryffindors trailed behind in a disorderly bunch.
Ron whispered to Seamus.
"Harry really isn't a proper Gryffindor. Slytherin are our sworn enemies!"
Seamus was unimpressed and answered bluntly.
"But being friends with Shawn is pretty lucky, too."
Ron's eyes widened, and he growled under his breath.
"Harry's the Chosen One! He's as good as anyone!"
Seamus curled his lip.
"Right. So why doesn't the Chosen One want to hang out with us?"
Ron: ...
The Potions Classroom resembled its owner's office: cold and dark, with bottles and jars lining the walls. The animal specimens floating inside them frightened quite a few of the young students into trembling.
Shawn led Draco and the others to seats in the middle of the classroom. Harry had intended to sit with them, but Shawn sent him away with a single remark.
"Harry, getting along with your own housemates is also a way to develop your social skills."
Shawn made it sound noble, but he simply did not want to get caught in the crossfire.
Kindhearted, innocent Harry took him at his word, however. After returning to sit beside Ron, he struck up a quiet conversation with him, leaving Ron beside himself with delight.
A moment later, the classroom door burst open with a bang, and Snape strode in, his black robes billowing.
Without wasting words, he picked up the register and began calling names.
"Millicent Bulstrode."
"Here."
"Harry Potter."
"Here."
When he reached Harry's name, Snape paused and looked down at him with cold, empty eyes.
"Oh, yes. Harry Potter. Our new arrival, the famous Chosen One."
After that sneering remark, Snape could not be bothered to finish taking attendance. He swept his wide sleeves aside and said coldly,
"Potion-making is a precise science and a rigorous craft. I do not expect you to truly appreciate its beauty.
If you simply do as I say, I can teach you how to enhance your reputation, forge glory, and even prevent death.
But you must remember one thing: you must not be the sort of troll-brained students I so often encounter."
With his opening speech finished, Snape instantly commanded the room, establishing his authority without the slightest effort.
In his seat, Shawn could not help pressing a hand to his forehead. Here it comes. Here comes the famous scene.
"Harry Potter."
"What would I get if I added asphodel root powder to an infusion of wormwood?"
Hearing the question, Harry could not help sighing in relief. He stood and answered confidently.
"The Draught of Living Death."
Snape narrowed his eyes and, unwilling to give up, continued questioning him.
"Potter, then tell me the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane."
"There is no difference."
"If I asked you to find me a bezoar, where would you look?"
"In a cow's stomach."
Snape felt a surge of frustration lodge in his chest, then abruptly turned toward Shawn.
"Shawn Black, stand up."
The entertained look in Shawn's eyes instantly froze. He stood and looked at Snape in confusion.
Snape's gaze was hostile as he spoke through slightly gritted teeth.
"What potion can be made with bezoar, valerian, mistletoe berries, and unicorn horn?"
Shawn answered with an odd expression.
"Professor, the Forgetfulness Potion. It's a potion that causes memory loss, used to treat people left with psychological trauma after being tormented by spells. It requires considerable caution when used."
Snape drew out his words in a peculiar tone.
"Oh? Correct, but did I ask you to explain? One point from Slytherin. Even an idiot like Harry Potter knows to answer only what he is asked. Perhaps you really did sneak a bottle of Forgetfulness Potion."
After berating Shawn, Snape felt considerably better and addressed the rest of the class.
"Why aren't you writing these questions and answers down?"
The young Slytherins and Gryffindors trembled. This professor attacked everyone indiscriminately! They hurriedly lowered their heads, their quills scratching across their notes.
The Slytherins were especially puzzled. Hadn't the older students said their head of house blatantly favored his own house?
After sitting down, Shawn kept grumbling inwardly that Snape had gone too far.
Unable to make things difficult for his sworn enemy's son, he had turned on an innocent spectator instead.
Wasn't this just because Shawn had yet to deliver the "embarrassing photos of Harry" he had promised him?
Did he really have to bring up the Forgetfulness Potion as a reminder?
Still, Shawn had to pay what he owed. Otherwise, Snape would keep targeting him, which would seriously damage his image among the Slytherins.
He would also have no excuse to keep milking Snape for benefits.
He couldn't actually use the Dark Mark to frighten him, could he?
Better someone else take the fall than him.
He silently said to himself, Harry, I'm afraid I'll have to do you wrong.