HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

"Yeah, it was all set up last night." Ian took a sip of milk tea and gently nudged Severus's knee under the table.

"That's good." John paused, his voice slowing down. "After you go back to school, focus on your studies. NEWTs year is different from usual. Slughorn wrote to me a few days ago, saying he's very optimistic about your potions project."

He picked up the knife and slowly spread butter on the bread, his movements unhurried and deliberate.

"The adults will take care of what's going on outside," John said, his voice steady but carrying a heavy weight. "You just need to take care of yourselves at school, eat on time, don't stay up too late, and be careful. The rest is up to us."

When he said "we," his gaze lingered on Severus's face for a fleeting moment, but clearly enough.

That wasn't just polite advice; it was a promise.

Severus stopped cutting the egg.

He lowered his head, his black hair falling down to cover his profile, only his fingers gripping the knife tightly. After a few seconds, he gave a soft "hmm," his voice a little hoarse.

Leah pushed a plate of freshly baked muffins to the center of the table and said gently, "Severus, I've mended your thick winter cloak. It's on top of your suitcase; the cellar's cold, remember to wear it."

"And Ian, stop relying on the warmth spell to avoid wearing sweaters. The spell will wear off, but the sweater won't."

Ian smiled and agreed, then found Severus's hand under the table and shook it.

My palms were cold, but they slowly warmed up.

After breakfast, they did a final check on their luggage.

Severus's box was much heavier. Lydia had stuffed in various homemade jams, pastries, sweaters, and scarves, as well as a few personal notebooks that John had secretly put in, about some obscure but practical protective runes.

"Your father's handwriting is really messy." Severus flipped through one of the pages, his brows furrowed slightly, but his eyes were very focused.

"As long as he can understand it, it's fine. It's for you to see anyway." Ian leaned against the door frame, watching Severus carefully put the notes into a hidden compartment inside the box, his movements solemn.

At night, Ian lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with his eyes open. The next room was quiet; Severus probably wasn't asleep either.

He lay there for a while, then gently got up, walked barefoot down the corridor, and pushed open Severus's door.

Moonlight streamed in through the window. Severus lay on his side, facing the window, the blanket covering his chin, but Ian could see the stiff lines of his shoulders and back.

Ian closed the door, walked to the bedside, and sat down.

The mattress sagged slightly.

"...Ian." Severus didn't turn around; his voice was muffled by the pillow.

"Mmm." Ian lay down, hugged him from behind, wrapped his arms around his waist, and pulled him into his embrace.

Severus stiffened at first, then slowly relaxed and leaned back into his chest.

Neither of them spoke; the chirping of insects in the summer night drifted in through the cracks in the window.

Ian rested his chin on Severus's head and could smell the faint herbal scent on his hair, mixed with the refreshing smell of soap.

"Are you scared?" Ian asked in a low voice, his lips close to Ian's earlobe.

Severus remained silent for a long time, so long that Ian thought he wouldn't answer.

"I'm not afraid of them," he finally said, his voice soft but clear, "I'm afraid... of being implicated."

I'm afraid of dragging you down, dragging down this family, and dragging down this hard-won, stolen peace and stability.

Ian tightened his arms, holding him even closer. "There's no harm done. We're all in this together, Siever. From the day I confessed my feelings to you, we've been together. My dad, my mom, they are too. We're family."

Severus's breathing paused for a moment, then became lighter and slower.

He turned to face Ian in the dim moonlight. His eyes were bright, like obsidian submerged in water.

"Ian."

"Um."

"If..." Severus's voice choked, "If one day, I have to choose..."

"I choose you." Ian interrupted him, running his fingers through the black hair behind his head, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, breath mingling. "No matter when, no matter what we face, I will choose you, so don't think about those 'what ifs'."

Severus looked at him, then very slowly, very slowly closed his eyes, his eyelashes wet.

He leaned forward and kissed Ian's lips.

The kiss tasted salty and bitter, a little clumsy, but incredibly forceful, like a drowning person grabbing onto driftwood, like a person about to fall grasping at the last rope.

Ian responded to him gently but firmly, stroking his trembling back with his palm to soothe the silent fear and unease.

When the long kiss ended, Severus buried his face in Ian's shoulder, breathing rapidly.

Ian hugged him and patted his back gently, like soothing a frightened animal.

"Go to sleep," Ian whispered in his ear. "I'm here."

Severus gave a mumbled "hmm," and slowly loosened his grip on the front of his pajamas.

The moonlight moved slowly, and the shadows of the trees outside the window swayed gently.

The person in my arms gradually began to breathe deeply and evenly, their tense body completely relaxing as they drifted off to sleep.

Ian stared at the flickering light and shadow on the ceiling, his arms still firmly wrapped around Severus.

I choose you.

anyway.

He repeated it to himself, like a spell, a vow.

Then, he closed his eyes.

……

The Slughorn Club gatherings resumed during the first week of the semester. The old professor looked radiant and greeted each student warmly, showing particular interest in Ian and Severus's "summer research progress."

"The blood-replenishing potion has been improved! It's very promising!" Slughorn patted Ian on the shoulder, his voice booming. "My friends in the Ministry of Magic's Medical Logistics Department have been asking me about it several times. Kids, seize the opportunity!"

Carlo and Nott had already graduated, and those people, who seemed to be led by Regulus, were all gathered around him talking.

"He doesn't look well," Severus said in a low voice, almost drowned out by the surrounding laughter.

"That group made him their new center of attention," Ian said, taking a sip of his drink, which was a little too sweet. "Carol and Nott graduated, and of the rest, he has the most 'orthodox' family background."

As the party progressed, Slughorn was loudly announcing that he had acquired a batch of extremely rare materials, which he planned to distribute as club perks.

The crowd surged forward, filled with curiosity and flattery.

Regulus managed to escape and almost immediately headed toward the terrace, his steps seemingly steady, but Ian noticed the slump in his shoulders as if he had just breathed a sigh of relief.

Ian and Severus exchanged a glance, but didn't follow them out.

After a while, they made an excuse to get some fresh air and left the noisy room one after the other.

The terrace was cold, and the night wind carried the dampness of the lake.

Regulus stood with his back to the door, his hands resting on the stone railing, gazing at the dark lake in the distance.

Hearing footsteps, he turned around, his face expressionless, only a lingering weariness remaining in his eyes.

"It's too stuffy in there," Ian said, walking over and leaning against the railing.