HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

Platform 9¾.

As soon as they got out of the car, they saw Leah and John waiting there.

Leah quickly stepped forward and hugged them one by one, her hugs strong.

"I've found a place in the Cotswolds. It's a bit out of the way, but the view is nice and it's quiet. The neighbors are Muggles, but they're a distance away, so they won't bother me."

John took the heavier box from Severus's hands. "The protective spells have all been checked."

They didn't go back to the Bock family home; instead, they went directly to their new residence via the Filo network.

It was an old stone house, half-enclosed by low stone walls and dense trees, with two floors, a spacious attic, and a desolate but well-maintained backyard.

The air smells of grass, soil, and sunshine, and in the distance are rolling hills.

"It needs a good cleaning." Ian pushed open the door and choked on the dust.

"Hmm." Severus put down the box, his gaze sweeping over the dusty fireplace and the empty room, finally settling on Ian's profile, which was outlined in pale gold by the sunlight.

There was no warmth or noise of Hogwarts here, no comfort or tranquility of the Burkes; it was empty and desolate, but also free from those suffocating stares and whispers.

There were only the two of them.

"Where to begin?" Ian turned to look at him, a smile in his gray eyes.

"The laboratory," Severus replied.

Tidying up is a slow process.

They ordered the most basic furniture and household items from Diagon Alley, and Ian spent an afternoon cleaning the backyard and planning out an area for planting herbs.

Severus, meanwhile, buried himself in setting up the underground laboratory, placing workbenches, bookshelves, and material cabinets one by one, and applying protective spells to prevent dust, maintain a constant temperature, and ensure basic safety.

A few days later, the first batch of herb seeds and potion ingredients sent from the "safe channel" arrived.

The package also included a short letter from John, mentioning that the atmosphere at the Ministry of Magic had been "delicate" lately.

At the end of the letter, Leah reminded them to eat on time and attached a newly prepared, improved recipe for homemade white umami flavoring.

The days flowed by quietly amidst weeding, turning the soil, processing materials, reading, and experimenting.

Severus began to systematically organize his research on stabilizing and purifying runes in ancient magic, while Ian attempted to cultivate several rare herbs that had demanding requirements for soil and magical environments.

Progress was slow and there were frequent failures, but no one was urging them on, and there were no reports to show for them.

In the evenings, they usually stayed in the living room, with Ian reading the latest herbal journal and Severus checking data or translating obscure passages.

Sometimes they would play two games of chess, with Severus winning more and more, while Ian would start cheating, trying to distract him with irrelevant topics.

One day in early July, an unfamiliar barn owl landed on the windowsill and dropped a roll of unsigned parchment.

The only line above was in simple cursive: "Slughorn declined the invitation to be an honorary advisor to the Ministry of Magic, citing illness, and went to the Azores for recuperation."

The two exchanged a glance, and the old fox, sensing the impending storm, retreated even further away.

In late July, Kevin sent a long letter from France, written using a simple substitution cipher they had agreed upon.

Bokilong's trial was "tough but fun." The coach was strict, but he "flew faster than a sniffer chasing coins."

Aris works as a document sorter at a small magical history institute and complains that the French filing system "lacks logical beauty," but the afternoon tea treats are quite nice.

At the end of the letter, Kevin added in his messy handwriting: "There are people here talking about what's going on over there, not many, but we can hear them. Take care."

Severus put the letter aside and went to the window.

In the backyard, Ian was bending over to examine a moonflower seedling, his fingers carefully brushing across the leaves, his face turned to the side in focused concentration.

He watched for a while, then returned to his workbench to continue studying the potion.

Ian pushed open the door and came in, carrying the scent of grass and earth.

"Severus, look, that brittle vine seems to have adapted; it's sprouted a new bud."

Severus put down his quill and walked over.

In the small flowerpot on the windowsill, a touch of tender green unfolds in the twilight.

"Mm," he replied.

Ian's hand naturally rested on his lower back, his chin on his shoulder, and his breath brushed against his ear.

"What would you like for dinner? I could try making something different with the leftover stew from yesterday, or..."

"Whatever," Severus said, leaning back into that familiar embrace.

"Then let's change up the stew," Ian said with a laugh, his lips brushing against Severus's earlobe. "I bet you actually wanted to eat that, but you were too lazy to say it."

Severus didn't refute, but his ears felt a little hot.

He turned around, quickly touched Ian's lips, and then went to the worktable to pack his things, leaving Ian standing there smiling, touching his lips.

After dinner, they stayed in the living room as usual.

Severus was checking the potion recipes, while Ian flipped through the latest issue of "The Herbalist" magazine, his head resting on Severus's lap.

"Look at this," Ian handed over a bit of the magazine, pointing to a short article, "There's a valley in northern Scotland that Muggles rarely go into. It's said that the soil has very special magical properties. Someone discovered a variant of silver fern there, which is incredibly effective against magical damage... but the harvesting conditions are harsh. It only blooms on the night of a full moon, and the flowering period is only two hours."

Severus's gaze swept over the few lines of text, then returned to his parchment.

"The records are vague and lack evidence, and the northern part of Scotland is not peaceful right now. There was an inconspicuous news item in the corner of last week's Daily Prophet that said there were unexplained magical fluctuations there, and the Ministry of Magic advised wizards to stay away."

"I was just saying," Ian said, putting the magazine away. "Once things are more stable... we can go take a look. Just treat it as an adventure."

Severus paused for a moment, then gave a very soft "hmm".

……

On a Tuesday in mid-August, Ian needed to go to Diagon Alley to replenish a batch of basic materials. Some commonly used dragon skin gloves were running low in stock, and two common stabilizer additives had also been used up.

Severus was originally going to go with them, but a batch of moongrass extracts was at a critical stage, and leaving might mean all their efforts were wasted.

"I can go by myself, it'll be quick." Ian fastened his travel cloak, turned around at the door, cupped Severus's face and kissed him. "I'll be back before lunch, and I'll bring you the new flavor of Florin's ice cream, if there's any left."

Severus frowned. "Be careful."

"I know." Ian smiled, his fingers brushing against his chin. "You too, don't get splashed."

The door closed, and the footsteps faded into the distance.

Severus returned to the basement, where the silvery-blue liquid in the crucible was slowly swirling. He concentrated, recording every subtle change.

It was past noon, and Ian hadn't returned.

Severus stared at the clock, then glanced out the window at the quiet lane. Perhaps he was delayed by the crowds in Diagon Alley, or maybe he was waiting in line for Florin's ice cream.

After completing the final extraction step, he carefully packaged the finished product, tidied up the worktable, and moved more slowly than usual, as if he were procrastinating.

At 3 p.m., there was still no movement.