Shawn looked at the Old Beekeeper, whom he had thoroughly hoodwinked, and secretly congratulated himself.
Leaving Dumbledore to his thoughts, he put away the tea set, then rose and walked over to Phineas's portrait.
Phineas glared at him, his beard bristling, and kept pointing at his mouth, signaling for Shawn to lift the silencing spell.
Shawn smiled but did nothing. At the end of the day, the man was only a painting.
And his foul tongue was notorious.
If Shawn lifted the spell, the ensuing tirade would probably give him a headache. He really didn't want to put on a farce of filial disrespect in front of Dumbledore.
"Hello, Great-grandfather. Goodbye, Great-grandfather."
Phineas: "..."
Having greeted him, Shawn figured Dumbledore would need a long time to consider how to deal with him. He couldn't be bothered to keep him company and headed straight out.
Just as he stepped through the door, Dumbledore's voice followed him.
"Any leads on the other Horcruxes?"
Shawn kept walking without looking back and replied casually.
"Soon. I think I can prepare a Christmas surprise you'll be pleased with, Headmaster."
After leaving the Headmaster's Office, Shawn strolled leisurely down the corridor. The Christmas surprise he had just promised Dumbledore wasn't Ravenclaw's Diadem.
He hadn't finished studying the Diadem yet, so naturally he wouldn't give it up.
The surprise would be a genuine surprise: he would tell Dumbledore outright that Harry was a Horcrux!
Judging by the films and original books from his previous life,
before Harry's third year, Dumbledore had merely believed that Harry's connection to Voldemort existed because Voldemort had transferred some of his powers to Harry before dying that night.
Only when Harry and Voldemort began sharing dreams had Dumbledore confirmed that Harry was a Horcrux.
But now...
Old Dumbledore, there's a surprise waiting for you at Christmas.
Shawn didn't return to the abandoned classroom. Having someone else do the work was wonderful. Instead, he took out a notebook and began reading on a balcony by a window on the Seventh Floor.
With a gentle breeze blowing, it was the perfect time to read.
The notebook contained Voldemort's insights into using Fiendfyre.
It was an excellent read, explaining Fiendfyre in accessible terms while getting straight to the curse at the heart of the spell.
Voldemort had also outlined a spell of his own creation called "Dread Serpent," a highly advanced composite spell.
Just from reading those explanations and annotations, without practicing even once, Shawn's Fiendfyre had already reached level 2 in the system.
Clearly, Voldemort had considerable potential as a professor.
What left Shawn speechless, however, was that when it came to bypassing the counterspell Finite Incantatem, using an upgraded version of Fiendfyre, and even explaining Dread Serpent in detail,
Voldemort had hit writer's block. There was nothing more!
At first, Shawn had naturally been furious, but he had sworn he would rather die than beg that update-withholding bastard Voldemort.
Hmph, I can always ask the "extremely accommodating" Grindelwald. (Type 1 if you get it.)
The blue gas burner was just as tempting, wasn't it? Spectacular effects, tremendous power, and it could even distinguish the loyal from the treacherous.
Throughout the morning, Shawn read the notebook over and over, absorbing everything he could.
He carefully noted down anything he didn't understand so he could ask his fan to explain it later, then gradually coax that god-tier gas-burner skill out of him.
As the sun climbed overhead, Shawn suddenly caught a silvery, translucent female figure flashing past out of the corner of his eye.
It looked like the Grey Lady.
He quickly put away the notebook and hurried after her.
But when he reached the corner, he only saw the Grey Lady disappear through a wall.
"Ugh, this lady ghost's ability to walk through walls is practically a cheat."
Having failed to find her, Shawn could only return to the Slytherin Common Room in frustration.
In the communal lounge, he found quite a few young Slytherins already back. Some were studying on their own, while others practiced the Disarming Charm in the newly established spell-training room next door.
Even the pure-bloods who refused to accept him weren't slacking off, though he knew they still hadn't given up behind his back and seemed to be plotting something.
Still, Shawn was fairly pleased with the overall atmosphere.
He strode through the Common Room with his hands behind his back, and the young Slytherins rose of their own accord to greet him respectfully.
He nodded to each of them and took note of the names of a few whose eyes shone with admiration.
Back in the Dormitory, he was just about to summon Kreacher to bring him something to eat when he noticed Draco sitting blankly on his bed, looking distracted.
He had just seen Goyle and Crabbe in the spell-training room.
Shawn brought over a chair and sat down in front of the dazed Draco.
"Tell me. What's troubling you? You look awful."
Draco came back to his senses. With Shawn so close, he felt rather uneasy.
Not daring to meet Shawn's penetrating gaze, he turned his head aside and mumbled.
"Nothing. I probably just didn't sleep well last night."
Shawn gave a cold snort.
"Look at me, Draco. You tell everyone, to my face and behind my back, that you're my best friend and follower. So why do I see uncertainty in your eyes?"
Draco lowered his head in shame, his platinum hair drooping down. His innate air of haughty pride had vanished completely.
"I'm sorry, Shawn. I... I..."
Shawn couldn't help shaking his head in disappointment. This damn kid was far too conflicted, so he cut straight in.
"Has that smooth-talking father of yours been putting pressure on you?"
Draco nodded and answered hoarsely.
"Yes. Father said you'd led me astray, that I'd forgotten the Malfoy family's honor and ideals. He also said he'd send me to Durmstrang next year to keep me away from you, a pure-blood... a pure-blood traitor."
A flicker of doubt crossed Shawn's eyes. This didn't seem like Lucius's style. Shouldn't he be hedging his bets?
A possibility occurred to him.
"Have the other young wizards from elite pure-blood families received similar letters from home?"
Draco nodded again.
"Yes, pretty much all of them."
Shawn understood. Lucius was merely going along with the crowd.
Shawn drew his wand and used its tip to lift Draco's pointed chin, looking him in the eyes as he demanded an answer.
"Heh. Then what are you hesitating over? Are you upset that you can't defy your father's arrangements? Or do you have no confidence in me?"
Draco trembled. Shawn seemed terrifying at that moment, his icy gaze almost predatory.
Frightened, he hurriedly blurted out everything on his mind.
"I... I'm not hesitating. I don't want to transfer schools, either. I'm just blaming... blaming myself for not being as resolute as Theodore."
At this, Draco's expression twisted with frustration. He slapped the wand away from his chin and shouted, his voice thick with tears.
"When Theodore read Old Nott's letter, he burned it outright! He even sneered that if his family stopped paying for his schooling, he'd beg on the streets if he had to, but he'd still follow you! And me? I hesitated for ages before deciding not to listen to Father. I... I just blame myself for not having any courage. I despise myself!"
Shawn put away his wand, his cold expression softening a little.
He spoke gently to the teary-eyed Draco.
"Draco, everyone has a different personality. Your Malfoy family has never produced anyone unwavering. You don't need to compare yourself to Theodore, either. You serve different purposes. Well, just don't overthink it."
Shawn had wanted to mention some of the Malfoy family's virtues, but he genuinely couldn't think of any, so he said nothing more.
He had lost his appetite, too. Patting Draco on the shoulder, he rose and headed out again. It looked as though he would have to accelerate his plans.
He would start with the Forbidden Forest and continue building his strength.
Before leaving, Shawn paused to think. A dispirited Draco wasn't any fun at all.
So he turned back to offer Draco some reassurance.
"Don't agonize over it. Just be yourself. After Christmas, everything will get better."