HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

On the very day Severus went to Nott's house, Fox landed on their windowsill.

Ian is sorting through a package of roots of a magical plant that is said to be from Northern Europe.

Fox folded his fiery wings, his golden eyes watching him quietly, his feet unbound.

Ian put down what he was holding and, without hesitation, reached out and touched Fox's tail feathers.

The next second, the space spun, and he appeared in the principal's office.

Dumbledore stood by the Pensieve, his back looking unusually tired, as if he had aged considerably overnight.

"Mr. Burke," he turned around, his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles filled with heavy sorrow, "I'm sorry to have asked you to come in this way. We... have made progress, and we've paid a price."

"Is it a locket?" Ian asked.

"Yes, in a cave, as you said, protected by the Inferi and despair," Dumbledore's voice was soft. "A brave friend... gave his life to bring it back."

He didn't say his name, but Ian understood the weight of that "friend" from that deep sorrow.

"The locket is currently in an absolutely safe place, undergoing inspection and suppression, but the more important clue is that we have obtained another possible location for a Horcrux from that friend's belongings and fragments of his last memories."

Dumbledore stared at Ian. "The Hufflepuff Cup is very likely in the deepest part of Gringotts, in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault."

Ian gasped.

Gringotts, guarded by goblins, is the most heavily guarded treasure trove of the pure-blood families, making it even more troublesome than the cave.

"We cannot reach them for the time being. Forcing our way in would only alert them and cause the other Horcruxes to be moved or reinforced with protection."

Dumbledore walked to the table, his fingers unconsciously tracing the surface of a silver instrument. "But now that we have two clear goals, the direction is much clearer. Voldemort pursued eternity and power; the vessel through which his soul was split must be closely linked to his own history, ambitions, and cherished possessions. Salazar Slytherin's locket, Helga Hufflepuff's golden cup..."

He looked at Ian, his gaze sharpening: "I need you and Severus to use your eyes and ears to listen for any words that might be related to 'Founder's Relics,' 'Precious Collection,' or 'Memorial Items.'"

"Especially within the Death Eaters, in those ancient families, in their casual boasting or reminiscing, don't ask questions, just listen and remember. Any fragment could point to the next Horcrux."

"We'll keep an eye on it." Ian nodded solemnly, then a deeper unease welled up inside him. "Will he... know about the missing Horcrux?"

Dumbledore paused for a moment. "Perhaps not, his soul has been separated for too long, but you must be more careful. Severus's position will become increasingly dangerous, and any abnormality he may exhibit will be scrutinized under a magnifying glass."

"I see."

"Go back, Ian. Remember, your primary task right now is still survival and self-preservation; gathering information is secondary. If Severus is forced to participate in... certain operations, tell him to prioritize self-preservation and completing the mission. Don't risk transmitting information; safety first."

Fox drove Ian back to the stone house again. The sky outside the window hadn't changed much, as if the heavy conversation had been just an illusion.

Severus returned from Nott's house in the evening, his face paler than usual, and he was surrounded by a smell that was a mixture of old parchment and the remnants of dark magic.

He didn't say anything, but just hugged Ian tightly, very hard.

"Not going well?" Ian asked, running his fingers through his slightly cool black hair.

"The Nott family's library... lives up to its name." Severus's voice was hoarse and weary. "I've seen some things I shouldn't have. Lucius is testing my tolerance for certain extreme theories of curses."

"I gave him the standard answer of 'It's academically interesting, but its application requires extreme caution,' and he seemed... not too satisfied, but he didn't say anything more."

He paused, then buried his face in Ian's neck. "Ian, that place...it's suffocating."

“We’ve got a Horcrux,” Ian whispered in his ear, in a barely audible voice, “a locket. Another one might be the Golden Cup, in Bellatrix’s vault at Gringotts. Dumbledore wants us to keep an eye out for other clues, anything related to the founders’ relics, or anything that has special significance for them.”

Severus froze for a moment, then hugged him even tighter, as if to confirm each other's presence.

"I understand," he replied with just those three words.

The following months presented an eerie calm on the surface.

Severus's "work" within the Death Eaters proceeded smoothly; his potions and improvement plans continued to be "appreciated," but that was all.

Voldemort did not summon him in person again, and Lucius maintained a polite, slightly distant "respect".

After the Soul-Soothing Agent was administered, they did not pressure Severus to produce any further breakthroughs, as if they were waiting or observing.

At Borgin-Bock, Ian gradually gained access to some more "internal" transaction records. These weren't top secrets, but they were enough to reveal which types of dark magic items were in demand that were quietly increasing, and which ancient, obscure materials were being repeatedly ordered by specific clients.

He silently noted it down and compared it with the fragments of information that Severus occasionally brought back about the "spoils of war" that required special handling after certain "operations".

Kevin and Aris sent a letter from France, and their words began to reveal their concerns.

French media coverage of Britain has become increasingly sensational, with inquiries about whether help is needed and reiterating the invitation to seek asylum.

Ian's reply was as brief and calm as ever, simply saying that everything was fine and not to worry.

Occasionally, snippets of news would arrive from Lily; she seemed busy with Auror duties and her whereabouts were uncertain.

Leah and John would come every few weeks, bringing supplies and silent care.

They didn't ask any more questions, just made sure the two children didn't seem to be hungry, sick, or mentally... still holding up.

Once, when John was leaving, he patted Severus hard on the back without saying anything, but Severus felt the heavy support.

Winter has passed, spring has arrived, and we are slowly moving towards early summer.

Voldemort's power is steadily expanding, and terrifying incidents occur from time to time, but daily life in the wizarding world continues in a kind of numb inertia.

Diagon Alley is still open, and Hogsmeade still has students on weekends, but people smile less, walk faster, and have more wariness in their eyes.

This tranquility, like a bowstring stretched ever tighter, rests on everyone's nerves, awaiting the arrow that may be released at any moment.