HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

Leah covered her mouth, tears finally rolling down her cheeks. John hugged his wife tightly, then walked up to Severus and pressed down hard on his tense shoulders.

"Child, thank you... thank you for finding a way to get those materials."

He didn't know what Severus had sacrificed, but he could see the unfathomable pain and resolve in the boy's eyes.

Severus shook his head, his gaze never leaving Ian.

A few days later, Ian was transferred from the critical period to a special care ward. He was still in a coma, but his vital signs were stable.

Leah and John took turns keeping watch, forcing Severus to go back and rest.

He didn't go back to the Cotswolds, but instead booked the cheapest room at the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley.

Lucius's invitation, or rather, summons, came quickly.

The location is not Malfoy Manor, but deeper in Knockturn Alley, in an old house with an unremarkable exterior but a powerful spatial expansion spell cast inside.

There weren't many people in the hall; a few figures stood in the shadows, silent and respectful.

Severus recognized Nott and Carlo, and they looked at him with scrutiny and mockery.

Lucius stood slightly to the side in front, nodding slightly.

Then, he felt an invisible pressure sweep over him.

The high-backed chair in front of the fireplace slowly turned around.

Voldemort.

He scrutinized Severus, his mental energy relentlessly probing into his brain.

Severus mustered all his willpower to maintain the barrier of the Occlumency technique, lowering his eyes to show just the right amount of awe and tension.

"Severus Snape," Voldemort's voice was high and cold, with a strange tone, "Lucius speaks highly of you, your... sincerity, I see it, you are very talented, and very... courageous, the realm of the soul, deep and beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes...yes, sir." Severus let his voice tremble slightly.

"Very good." Voldemort seemed satisfied, or rather, temporarily satisfied. "You understand the price of following me, and you have demonstrated your worth, your little Burke friend... He will recover, as long as you continue to prove your usefulness."

"I need intelligent and loyal servants, especially in potions and certain ancient arcane arts. You will receive guidance, resources, and... power, and of course, protection, if you are worthy."

He waved his hand dismissively, as if it were a trivial matter.

"Lucius will tell you what to do. I look forward to your next steps, Severus. Don't let me down."

……

Ian was in a coma for a full month.

During this period, under Lucius's "arrangement," Severus began to get involved in some "research projects," which were all marginal but sensitive related to black magic potions or material processing.

He did it precisely and efficiently, without asking a single question.

Lucius occasionally brings Voldemort's "rewards" or new instructions.

He would go to St. Mungo regularly, sit by Ian's bedside, hold his hand which was gradually warming but still weak, and speak softly about the herbs in the backyard of the Cotswold stone house, about the letters Kevin sent from France, about all sorts of trivial and ordinary things, but he never mentioned Malfoy, the old house deep in Knockout Lane, or those scarlet eyes.

On the afternoon of the thirty-second day, sunlight streamed through the ward window, casting bright spots of light on the floor.

Severus was carefully moistening Ian's dry lips with a damp cotton swab when he suddenly saw Ian's eyelids twitch slightly.

He froze, holding his breath.

Ian's long eyelashes trembled, and then, very slowly, he opened his eyes.

At first, there was a blank, unfocused look, but gradually, the gray pupils focused, reflecting Severus's thin, pale face.

"...Severus?" His voice was weak and hoarse, almost a whisper.

Severus gripped his hand tightly, and with his other hand he touched his cheek, his fingertips trembling violently.

He wanted to say something, but his throat was choked up, and only his eyes burned instantly, blurring his vision.

Ian blinked, as if trying to see him clearly.

"You... you look terrible." He said softly, his gaze slowly shifting to the familiar hospital room environment, his brow furrowing slightly. "What... happened to me?"

"Knockout Alley, attack, curse," Severus forced himself to speak, his voice hoarse, "It's... resolved. You need to rest."

Ian looked at him; his gray eyes, though tired, slowly regained their former sharpness.

He saw the deep shadow in Severus's eyes, and something he was trying hard to suppress—it wasn't just simple worry or fear.

"And the price?" Ian asked softly.

Severus avoided his gaze; he couldn't speak now, not when Ian had just woken up and was so weak, about those dark deals, about how he had mortgaged a part of his soul.

"We'll talk about it later," he finally said in a low voice, his fingers unconsciously stroking the back of Ian's hand. "It's good that you're awake."

Leah and John arrived quickly, overjoyed.

The therapist conducted a thorough examination and confirmed that although Ian was extremely weak and his magical energy would require a long time to recover, the most dangerous phase had indeed passed, and waking up was the best sign.

Another week passed before Ian was able to sit up and eat some liquid food.

Severus stayed almost constantly by my side, but Ian could clearly feel the silence and oppression he exuded.

Finally, on a quiet afternoon when it was just the two of them, Ian leaned against the headboard and watched Severus peel an apple for him.

"Severus," Ian called out.

Severus paused.

"Look at me."

Severus raised his eyes, his dark pupils churning with a pain and struggle Ian had never seen before.

"Tell me, what did you promise Malfoy?" Ian's voice was calm. "Those life-saving materials didn't come out of thin air; what did you give in return?"

Severus remained silent for a long time, so long that even the shadows of the clouds outside the window shifted an inch.

He put down the knife and the apple, his fingers tightening on his knees.

"I gave him the notes on the unfinished Soul Reliever." His voice was hoarse. "Also, I accepted his invitation."

Ian's pupils suddenly contracted, and his breath hitched.

"I saw... Voldemort," Severus continued. "Now I... work for him, related to potions, for those materials, and also so that... I won't have to use you and your family to threaten me anymore."

Ian looked at him, at the unfathomable pain and struggle in those dark eyes, at the shame and compromise he had to swallow for his sake, like a dull knife grinding repeatedly into the softest part of his heart.

"I'm sorry..." Ian's voice was terribly hoarse, each word filled with pain, "Severus, I'm sorry..."