Shawn had only made that one remark, but the young Slytherins were already breathing noticeably harder, and quite a few pairs of eyes had reddened slightly.
Slytherin and Gryffindor had been sworn enemies for a thousand years, both at school and beyond.
The young Slytherins had already known that Professor McGonagall had given Shawn the go-ahead to straighten out Gryffindor's conduct.
Naturally, they had been delighted at Gryffindor's misfortune.
They had assumed Shawn would go alone and claim all the glory himself. They had never imagined they might get to go along.
Nobody wanted to miss a legitimate chance to personally "toy with" their rivals.
Even members of the "anti-Shawn army" like Marcus looked at Shawn expectantly, straightening their backs in the hope of being chosen.
Montague stepped forward and asked tentatively.
"Chief, what standards would qualify someone as one of the finest Slytherins?"
Shawn was secretly amused by their reactions.
In truth, he was an ordinary fellow himself. In his previous life, he had merely been a shut-in who farmed gold online at home. What the hell did he really know about elegance?
But in the age of big data, what couldn't you learn?
Shawn even knew how to appreciate a bottle of 1982 Lafite, though he would have needed a chance to actually taste it first.
Then Shawn explained his understanding of Slytherin.
"Nobility and elegance ingrained in your very bones, an immense hunger for power and glory in your heart-that is what makes a true Slytherin."
"Why is our symbol a snake? Not because it is cold-blooded or terrifying, but because even in a mire, it is the most tenacious creature, the one least sullied by the mud! It is noble by nature!"
"No matter how rotten and filthy this world becomes, a snake can still live brilliantly!"
At this point, Shawn gave the pure-blood students a scornful look.
"As for those who merely claim to be noble by birth, yet keep their beds like messy doghouses and have no self-discipline whatsoever... ha! What right do they have to speak to me of nobility?"
Quite a few young Slytherins immediately flushed red.
Shawn wasted no more words and swept his hand through the air.
"All right, nobility and elegance can be cultivated. For now, strength is what matters. Anyone proficient in the Shield Charm and at least three offensive spells, step forward."
Twenty-odd students hesitantly stepped out from among the hundred or so young Slytherins. Most were ordinary sixth- and seventh-years.
Draco opened his mouth, hoping to ask for special treatment, but Shawn's cold stare forced him to swallow his words.
Shawn couldn't resist another jab.
"As expected, some people are only champions when it comes to talking. Look around. Excellence isn't determined by bloodline!"
Draco nearly died of shame. The other pure-blood elites were hit just as hard!
Shawn assessed several of the twenty-odd students who had stepped forward.
"You, rejected. Your collar is crooked. Taking you out would only embarrass me."
"You, your hair is a mess. That isn't individuality; it's sloppiness."
"You, your looks are too- ahem, your looks have too much depth. Maybe next time."
"You, I'll recommend a dental clinic to you later. Get your teeth straightened."
"..."
Shawn rejected more than a dozen students in succession, leaving ten presentable young Slytherins.
Since they were heading out to "battle" another house, appearances still mattered.
Montague, who had been excluded outright, couldn't accept it.
"Chief, my clothes are neat, my manners are proper, and I'm not bad-looking either. Why won't you let me go? Are you targeting me?"
Shawn looked up at Montague, who stood a head taller than him, and spoke with confidence in his abilities.
"Montague, Alice will be coming to Gryffindor with me shortly. You'll supervise evening study. Don't disappoint me."
Montague looked astonished. Although he had never fully sided with the pure-blood elites, he hadn't explicitly supported Shawn either.
If not for this chance to tear into the young Gryffindors, he would still have been pretending he didn't exist.
He hadn't expected Shawn to entrust him with this authority. Was this what magnanimity looked like?
Montague swallowed against his dry throat and nodded solemnly.
"All right. I'll supervise them strictly."
Shawn gave him a warm smile. He had provided the opportunity; how Montague performed was up to him. The capable rose, and the mediocre fell. It was that simple.
Then he turned and headed toward the Common Room entrance.
The ten chosen students happened to be five boys and five girls. They automatically formed two lines and followed him.
Draco watched them leave with envy.
Beside him, the pale, thin Theodore Nott clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles creaked, and a trickle of blood seeped out.
"Next time. Next time, I'll definitely march out with the Chief!"
Seeing this, Draco could sympathize.
Theodore and Draco naturally knew each other, and their backgrounds were very similar.
Both were pure-bloods, both were wealthy, both had Death Eater fathers, and both had been indoctrinated with pure-blood supremacy from childhood.
The difference was that Draco had a happy family, with both parents alive, and had been spoiled since he was little.
Theodore's mother had died young, and his father was a Death Eater through and through-mad and arrogant.
Theodore's childhood had been far from pleasant. His father had locked him in the attic to study and had even tortured his first secretly kept pet hamster to death.
Thus, although Theodore was clever, he was withdrawn. Even after coming to Hogwarts, he had remained a loner, like a lone wolf.
Yet he deeply admired the powerful Shawn.
Perhaps he had reached a breaking point, or perhaps his rebellious phase had arrived.
Although Theodore also despised Muggles, he didn't want to listen to his father's doctrine.
He always felt that following Shawn could overturn the world that disgusted him so much.
He stepped in front of Draco and bowed.
"Draco, please teach me spells. I need to become stronger so I can earn the right to follow the Chief!"
Draco froze, and then his expression shifted several times.
On the way to Gryffindor, Shawn suddenly noticed that his level-three faith value had increased by one point.
"Huh? Theodore Nott (zealot)?"
Shawn rubbed his chin. The name rang a bell.
"Wasn't he that rebellious lone-wolf kid who wouldn't listen to his father? I'll call him over and ask him later."
When they reached the Gryffindor entrance, Percy had already been waiting for some time.
"Shawn, you're here. Why have you brought so many people?"
Shawn had no intention of hiding anything.
"If I don't establish authority on the first visit, given your house's usual behavior, you'll have a hard time doing your job later."
Percy adjusted his glasses. Thinking of how his housemates behaved, he couldn't agree more.
"Then I'll leave it to you."
Percy then gave the password to the Fat Lady's portrait guarding the Gryffindor entrance: "Dragon Dregs."
As the Fat Lady opened the door, she asked in bewilderment, "Now I've seen everything. Since when do Slytherin students come brazenly strolling into Gryffindor?"
Shawn led his group into the Gryffindor Common Room after Percy.
The place was as chaotic as a marketplace. Quite a few young Gryffindors stood on the large tables, waving and shouting. They were all troublemakers eager to stir things up.
The Twins had even started taking bets on whether Shawn would make it back in one piece tonight.
Among the crowd, only a few girls who appreciated handsome faces and Harry were particularly eager for Shawn's arrival.
Oh, right-Harry had recently acquired a little follower: Neville. Neville felt he was rather slow and didn't mind doing some extra studying.
Ever since Harry had saved him, Neville had been deeply grateful to him, while Harry listened to Draco boast every day.
Draco spoke of the thoughtful intentions behind Shawn having him tutor two idiots. Harry followed his example and simply kept Neville by his side to teach him.
When Harry saw the striking Shawn enter, leading ten Slytherin students with their heads held high, chests out, and an air of distinction, he took it all in.
He looked left at his own house's unruly students, then right at the orderly Slytherins.
Once again, he felt indescribable envy and regret. He truly wanted to be one of those at Shawn's side. He should have stood his ground during the Sorting and gone to Slytherin.
Shawn's arrival instantly silenced the Common Room, but the next moment, everyone burst into laughter.
"Merlin's underpants, Shawn actually dared to come here!"
"Hahaha, just watch how I trip him up later."
"Have the Dungbombs George gave you ready. Wait for my signal when I smash a cup."
Quite a few students openly began discussing how to deal with Shawn.
Percy wanted nothing more than to cover his face. This was utterly embarrassing.
Harry came over with Neville.
"Shawn, they don't mean it. They just don't understand that you mean well. Talk things through properly. You can work it out."
Neville also gathered his courage and said, "Sh-Shawn, I support you."
Shawn looked at Neville, the future master swordsman standing behind Harry, then reached out to pat Harry's shoulder and spoke gently to the kindhearted boy.
"People are born lost. Few know what they ought to do, so they need a mentor to push and guide them. Yes, I'm glad you're helping Neville. All right, stand to the side. I'll handle this."
Harry opened his mouth, but in the end, he merely sighed and moved aside with Neville.
Shawn continued watching the mischievous young Gryffindors. What a lively bunch they were.
A little resistance would make straightening them out all the more interesting.