"Bubble, bubble."
"Hiss... ah."
In the office, the bubbling of broth mingled now and then with Grindelwald's sharp breaths as he struggled with the spice.
Only after Grindelwald had polished off half the ingredients did Dumbledore come back to his senses and address McGonagall.
"Minerva, we can't let Shawn graduate early. He needs a complete school experience.
"No matter who someone is or how much they go on to achieve, a fairy-tale school life is a precious memory they'll never forget."
Grindelwald paused with his chopsticks poised over the food. Something flickered in his eyes, then he resumed cooking, deliberately picking out Albus's favorites.
The crow's-feet at the corners of McGonagall's eyes deepened as she said helplessly,
"I understand that too. He's bound to do great things, and the more beautiful memories he carries in his heart, the less cold his decisions will be.
"But... but we can't deprive Shawn of the right to ask questions in class, can we?"
Dumbledore nodded and announced the decision he had carefully considered.
"How about this? Since Shawn is already deputy headmaster, we might as well give him a professorship too.
"As for regular lessons, he can attend whichever classes he chooses, regardless of year, and leave when he wishes. His final exams will remain unchanged."
McGonagall clasped her hands tightly together.
"What subject would Shawn teach? Surely you don't mean Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
Dumbledore sighed and glanced at the two broths in the divided hot pot through the curling steam.
Then at Gellert, who was eating with gusto.
He reflected that Shawn was now rather like this divided pot, possessing some of his own traits and some of Gellert's.
Every seemingly meaningless move Shawn made carried a deeper purpose. This open scheme that wasn't quite an open scheme left him