Shawn had been at Hogwarts for a week, but he had yet to properly explore it.
This time, Shawn played the "street loafer" and stuck to secluded corridors. Hogwarts certainly lived up to its reputation as a thousand-year-old castle-it really was falling apart.
He searched and searched, through quiet, deserted halls.
Earlier, he had lingered outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts Office. The door was shut tight, and passing students said Quirrell had gone out early.
Shawn figured the fellow had already begun looking for ways to get past the Three-Headed Dog.
He had originally planned to let the main storyline unfold naturally, then swoop in and steal the prize.
But now? Sorry, why should he, Shawn, follow the plot? How ridiculous.
His plan was to deal with Quirrell and the back of his head in public before Christmas.
Then the young witches and wizards could take the news that Voldemort was still alive home over the holidays.
His prestige would spread beyond the school!
One moment he was disappointed that he could not find Quirrell; the next, Quirrell intercepted him near the Owlery.
For some reason, Quirrell no longer bothered pretending to stutter around Shawn and spoke directly.
"Shawn, when are you coming over for tea? I have your father's favorite Yunshan Red Tea."
Shawn looked at Quirrell, who stood with his hands behind his back. When he dropped the act, he actually had quite a scholarly air.
Shawn stopped pretending too. Secretly holding a phoenix feather at the ready, he said teasingly,
"Professor, I've now been given the additional task of sorting out Gryffindor's discipline. I'm terribly busy. I'm very sorry, but I won't be able to listen to your teachings."
Quirrell's gaze turned dangerous.
Not one of the tasks the Dark Lord had recently given him had gone smoothly, and now Shawn was causing trouble too.
"Shawn, I am a professor. I believe I have the right to give you detention. You will come back to my office right now. I'll give you a proper lesson on your father's behalf."
Quirrell had lost his patience.
Shawn inwardly curled his lip and drew his wand. He was growing increasingly attuned to "Kunikuzushi."
So he chose a particularly stylish grip, holding his wand between two fingers like a conductor's baton, his wrist rising and falling gracefully.
With his wand pointed at Quirrell, Shawn's tone grew even more contemptuous.
"Professor, no offense, but judging by your usual performance, you really aren't qualified to teach me. Want to try taking me down?"
Quirrell had never seen such an arrogant student.
Driven mad with rage, Quirrell drew his own wand, ready to hit Shawn with the Cruciatus Curse.
"You fool, stop! Haven't you embarrassed yourself enough? Do you want to attract Dumbledore and Snape's attention?"
A stab of pain in his mind, followed by that voice, instantly brought Quirrell back to his senses.
"Master, I was wrong. But Shawn doesn't know what's good for him."
Voldemort replied, "You truly are a fool. Shawn clearly thinks nothing of your strength. Hmm, he really is like me in that respect. Before the strong, humbly drain them of their knowledge; before the weak, despise them or crush them underfoot. A born Death Eater."
Quirrell: *"...!"*
Voldemort continued musing to himself.
"He must yearn for supreme power, just as I do. Give him a copy of my notes on the dark magic of Fiendfyre later, and see if that brings him to your door of his own accord. Even if we cannot win Shawn over for now, we can wait until I have the Philosopher's Stone. With overwhelming strength, I will teach that little fellow what submission means."
Quirrell found it deeply ironic.
Apparently, what one could not have was always the most desirable, while all his own tireless efforts had earned him was the title of fool.
He was furious, but he dared not say so.
"Yes, Master."
Then Quirrell put away his wand and snarled at Shawn, who looked as though he were enjoying a show.
"You're quite something! Just you wait!"
With that, he strode away without looking back.
Shawn shook his head. He knew what the other man had been doing during that long silence.
He had not expected Voldemort to be quite so good at lying low.
Actually, Shawn had rather wanted a warm-up match with Quirrell to get a feel for his abilities.
Oh well. With Quirrell and Voldemort temporarily off his back, he could focus on improving the school's discipline.
The Owlery stood beside Ravenclaw Tower. As Shawn passed the door knocker, he gave it a curious glance and was about to leave.
"Oh, Shawn!"
As he headed downstairs, an excited cry came from behind him.
Shawn turned to look. Oh, it was Hermione, his little fangirl.
Clutching the spellbook he had lent her, his little fangirl came pattering over.
"What are you doing here? Are you looking for the Grey Lady? I'm sorry. I've been trying really hard to find her."
Shawn replied warmly,
"Don't worry. I'll leave it to chance and treat this as a stroll. Where are you off to?"
Hermione said earnestly,
"I heard you're going to help sort out Gryffindor's discipline. When will you come to Ravenclaw? I want to learn from you too."
Shawn rubbed his chin.
"That depends on what your whole house wants, and what Professor Flitwick thinks."
Hermione seemed to catch Shawn's meaning and thumped her chest in assurance.
"Don't worry, Shawn. I'll go persuade our Head of House and the other students."
Shawn paused. Was that what he had meant?
Still, it did not matter. Having someone pave the way was a good thing.
Hermione then pointed to the spellbook in her hands.
"I was just about to come find you. I've read this spellbook ten times and know it backward and forward. I've basically mastered all dozen or so General Charms in it. These are my thoughts on the things I'm still unsure about."
As she spoke, Hermione took out a stack of parchment densely covered with questions about spells.
Shawn's eyes practically turned into spirals, and a fine sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead.
This was terrifying. Was this the true horror of an academic genius?
Hermione had gone from one extreme to the other.
Shawn did not take the parchment. He could not possibly take it.
If he took it, he would have to answer. And what the hell could he answer? His knowledge of magic was nowhere near as broad as Hermione's.
He rubbed his chin and began thinking about how to show off-no, how to guide the young witch.
When her idol remained silent, looking inscrutable, Hermione immediately grew a little timid.
"Shawn, what's wrong? Have I done something wrong again?"
After a storm of thought and countless mental twists and turns, Shawn said warmly,
"You're the most outstanding young witch I've ever met. Coming to Ravenclaw was the right choice for you."
That single sentence restored Hermione's confidence.
Shawn continued,
"But as I said last time, everyone has limited energy. For ordinary spells, basic mastery is enough. We only need to truly specialize in one attack, one defense, one control spell, and one disruption spell to make our way in the world."
"But, but I think-"
Seeing Hermione about to argue, Shawn ruffled her fluffy hair.
"It's not about what you think. Don't you look up to me? I can now cast two spells without speaking or using a wand, and several more with Nonverbal Spellcasting. What about you? No matter how many spells you learn, can you block a single attack from me?"
As he spoke, Shawn casually waved his hand.
A dozen or so Cards formed from Golden Birds flew out together, spinning and thunking into the wall.
This was not the first time Hermione had seen Shawn cast spells without words or a wand, but every time, she thought her idol looked incredibly cool.
And it seemed she really could not withstand that attack. They were the same age, so why was the gap between them so large?
My idol is right. My knowledge is broad, but not deep.
Snape appeared from somewhere and swept past, his black robes billowing.
"Shawn, damaging school property. One point from Slytherin."
Shawn stared in surprise. There really were a lot of people at this school who appeared out of nowhere. Still, Snape was heading in the same direction Quirrell had gone.
It seemed the old bat had his eye on the Two-Faced Man too.
While Hermione stood beside him deep in thought, Shawn quickly made his escape.
Before he had gone far, Hermione called after him.
"Shawn, can I attend your spell tutoring session this weekend?"
Shawn waved behind him to signal his agreement.
Ding! Free, high-quality labor acquired +1...
By the time he returned to the dormitory, evening had fallen. Although it was not yet seven, everyone in Slytherin was already there, since he had notified them in advance.
Shawn stepped up to the high platform and announced,
"I'll be going to Gryffindor shortly to straighten out their discipline. I've gathered you all ahead of time to choose the ten most outstanding students who best represent Slytherin to accompany me and showcase our house's elegant scholarly bearing."
The little snakes' eyes immediately lit up!