While Shawn was reforming Gryffindor's academic discipline, its Head of House, Professor McGonagall, was in the Headmaster's Office speaking to Dumbledore.
McGonagall looked displeased as she watched Dumbledore fiddle with a pair of woolen socks, his expression utterly distracted.
Since coming in, she had asked several questions, but he seemed not to have heard a single one. She had no choice but to step forward and knock on his desk.
Knock, knock, knock!
Dumbledore looked up in confusion.
"Ah, Minerva. What can I do for you?"
McGonagall nearly lost her stern composure. Was he deliberately trying to wound her?
Forcing down her anger, she pressed her lips together before asking again.
"Albus, just what have you been busy with lately? I've come looking for you several times, and you were never in your office. You've left me to run the school all by myself. How can you be so comfortable with that?"
Dumbledore carefully set down the woolen socks. He had visited several shops before painstakingly selecting them.
He had just been wondering whether it was too early to send them to Gellert. After all, the weather was not that cold yet.
Looking at McGonagall, who was on the verge of exploding, Dumbledore smiled warmly.
"Minerva, you can make the decisions about school affairs."
McGonagall could not help pressing a hand to her forehead. Always the same!
"I came to discuss asking Shawn Black to help me straighten out Gryffindor House's academic discipline. You weren't here before, so I've already given Shawn the authority, but I still have some doubts. Hence my visit to our leisurely, wise, and great headmaster."
Dumbledore blinked his bright blue eyes. He had no intention of asking why McGonagall had suddenly come up with the idea. After a moment's thought, he said directly,
"The wizarding world will face some unrest over the next few years. Having Shawn improve the young students' ability to protect themselves would be a good approach."
McGonagall immediately picked out the key word and asked urgently,
"Unrest? Albus, what do you mean?"
Dumbledore naturally trusted McGonagall. With a sigh, he offered a brief explanation.
"Alas, Tom has returned. He may even be here at Hogwarts."
McGonagall grew frantic.
"How dare You-Know-Who! Albus, have you found him? Why haven't you driven him out?"
"I can't find him. I've merely deduced from the clues that Tom has probably come to Hogwarts."
As he spoke, Dumbledore unconsciously glanced at the woolen socks, then continued,
"And I may need to leave frequently in the near future, so I agree in principle with Shawn helping the young students grow stronger."
McGonagall felt her heart, liver, and head all aching. She desperately wanted to turn into a cat and stretch.
After discussing a few more school matters with Dumbledore, she hurried away. She felt she could give Shawn more authority.
After all, having a dark lord lurking in the school was simply unthinkable. They would also need to strengthen their precautions.
Once Professor McGonagall had left, Dumbledore pondered for a while. Naturally, he knew about the stir Shawn had caused.
But there were more and less urgent matters. Even Old Voldy lurking on school grounds could no longer take first priority, and he had no time to deal with Harry going astray either.
Dumbledore thought it over, then picked up a glass of Sherbet Lemon from his desk and took a sip.
"Delicious. Hmm, it seems it's time to invite Shawn over to sample my newly purchased sweets. Good people ought to like sweet things."
From his headmaster's portrait on the wall, Phineas Black puffed out his little mustache and said,
"Albus, you should have invited my most, most, most outstanding great-grandson over for a chat long ago. You're both so gifted at Transfiguration."
Dumbledore ignored him, continuing to consider how to soothe Gellert and keep him from stirring up trouble.
So Phineas kept prattling on.
"Ah, life is truly unpredictable. Who would have thought my Black family might produce a legend?"
"Heh, heh, heh. In the end, it's all thanks to my capable leadership of the family."
The Gryffindor Common Room.
"Ding! One evil soul detected." "Ding! The evil soul is slightly entangled with the host's soul. Absorb?"
Shawn froze for a moment and silently asked whether it would harm Harry. Upon receiving an affirmative answer, he sighed inwardly.
He took his hand off Harry's head and looked at the scrawny boy. Harry had already suffered enough, and he was Sirius's godson.
Although Shawn had little fondness for Sirius, that self-righteous brute, there was still a personal bond to consider.
Feeling the warm hand leave his head, Harry felt a little disappointed.
Suddenly remembering something, he hurriedly whispered,
"Shawn, Hermione and I found a Three-Headed Dog in the forbidden area on the fourth floor. We also spotted someone in black snooping around. We couldn't see who it was, but I think it was Snape."
Shawn frowned slightly. He did not want Harry to keep getting involved in the main plot now. That might disrupt his arrangements.
"I know about this, and I'll deal with it. Don't go investigating again."
"Why? I even know what the Three-Headed Dog is guarding underneath him. It's a treasure Hagrid brought out of Gringotts. I can help you keep watch-"
Shawn looked at Harry's eager face. Alas, kind words never quite achieved the desired result.
Then he would have to say something that cut deep. He waved a hand to interrupt him.
"Harry! There was an old man who lived next door to me. He lived to be 108. Do you know why?"
Harry was utterly baffled.
"Huh? Why?"
Shawn's face hardened as he said coldly,
"Because he never meddled in other people's business or attempted anything beyond his abilities. I just taught twenty-odd reckless fools a lesson. Are you one too?"
Harry's face turned deathly pale. He felt somewhat indignant, but could find no words to argue back.
He was still too weak, after all. Clenching his fists, he nodded.
"I-I understand. I'll work hard to get stronger."
"If you want to get stronger, learn self-discipline first. Go study etiquette."
After Harry left dejectedly with Neville, Alice came over to report.
"Chief, I've assigned them their tasks."
"Good. Well done."
Shawn looked around. The students had now divided into nine clusters, forming nine small circles. At the center of each stood a young Slytherin, giving the young Gryffindors basic instruction on how to walk, sit, and lie down.
Of course, many of the young Gryffindors were distracted.
Shawn had never expected to change their habits all at once.
The young Slytherins could manage it because they already had that foundation.
With nothing else to do, Shawn reached out, summoned a chair, and sat down.
He leaned against its back with his legs crossed at an angle, toying with his wand, Kunikuzushi. He looked slightly languid, yet still elegant.
Alice naturally took her place behind the chair, holding her wand in one hand behind her back while resting the other lightly before her abdomen. She looked respectful without sacrificing elegance.
"Chief, many students have been asking me lately how they can earn one of your sequence cards."
Shawn smiled and took a Queen of Hearts Card from the Ring, letting it hover before him. This sequence was intended for Gryffindor.
The four suits of playing cards had many meanings and interpretations, but here, Shawn would naturally define them himself.
Slytherin: spades, dark hearts, ruthless and shrewd.
Gryffindor: hearts, hot blood, valiant and decisive.
Ravenclaw: clubs, fragrant blossoms, learned and farsighted.
Hufflepuff: diamonds, upright squares, loyal and fearless.
"A deck has only fifty-two cards besides the jokers. Adult wizards outside the school will certainly be considered too, so any young student who earns one must be the elite of the elite."
"So, Alice, have you spotted anyone useful? I don't just mean combat ability, and I don't just mean Slytherins."