HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

"He also asked about you," Lily said to Severus, "and asked me to pass on his regards, saying that if the Hogwarts cellars are too cold, you can ask him for a modified version of the Moisture-Proof Charm—he learned it from a Bowtruckle tribe."

Severus gave a soft "hmm".

The conversation somehow shifted to Kevin and Aris from France.

Ian mentioned Kevin's recent letter, complaining that Aris was too strict with him, even nagging him about having an extra cake after training, but there were always Aris's handwriting in the corner of the letter.

“They…are very good,” Ian said with a smile. “In Beauxbatons Gardens, Kevin jumped off his broom, pulled out a ring and gave it to Aris, which startled Aris so much that he almost gave him a dozen calming spells, but in the end he accepted the ring.”

Lily was amused, James grinned, and even Severus's lips seemed to curve slightly.

The atmosphere completely relaxed.

Harry fell asleep in his mother's arms, his little face peaceful.

Lily patted him gently, her gaze sweeping across the warm room, past Ian and Severus sitting side by side, and finally landing on James, her eyes softening.

"That's good," she said softly. "Everyone is still here, and everyone... has a new beginning."

After sitting for a while, Lily looked at the sky and prepared to leave.

James carefully and skillfully helped her re-wrap Harry.

As she saw him to the door, Lily hugged Ian again, then looked at Severus, hesitated for a moment, and reached out to gently squeeze his arm before quickly letting go.

"Take care, Severus. Teach those children well, but don't be too harsh." She winked, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

Severus pursed his lips, said nothing, but nodded.

James stood behind Lily and nodded to Ian and Severus. "Thank you for the hospitality, and... I wish you all the best at Hogwarts."

The door closed, shutting out the family of three from the cold, snowy light outside.

The footsteps faded into the distance, leaving behind several parallel footprints in the snow, their edges quickly blurred by the fine snow blown by the wind.

Ian leaned against the door, sighed, and looked at Severus.

"How is it?"

Severus walked back to the fireplace and looked at the flames. "...Not bad."

"He apologized quite sincerely."

"Um."

"Harry is cute, like Lily."

"...He looks like Potter," Severus commented objectively.

Ian laughed, walked over and hugged him from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.

"Professor Snape, we're going to the cellars tomorrow. Are you nervous?"

Severus leaned into his arms in relief.

"A little, but you're here."

"Of course." Ian kissed his neck. "I'll find a shop in Hogsmeade, or bother Professor Kettleburn. I'll find something to do. Besides, I can go to the cellars every day to check if you've eaten properly and if you've been annoyed by those little trolls."

"They'd better not," Severus snorted, but his fingers covered Ian's hand around his waist.

……

The next morning, in the cellars of Hogwarts Castle, in the Potions classroom.

The air was filled with the familiar scents of medicinal herbs, aged stones, and the faint smell of flowing water.

The classroom was a bit colder than Severus remembered, but rows of bronze crucibles were polished to a shine, and basic materials were neatly arranged in the lockers. Everything was in perfect order.

He stood behind the podium, his black professor's robe hanging neatly down, making his face appear even paler.

The opening banquet ended last night, and today is the first day of formal classes.

The first class consists of first-year students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

Ten minutes before class started, the classroom was empty.

He could hear his own steady breathing and the faint sounds of students walking down the corridor in the distance.

His fingers unconsciously brushed against the cold edge of the podium, where his prepared lesson plans and the list of new students were placed.

The classroom door was gently pushed open a crack, and Ian slipped in.

He was wearing a thick grey sweater today and looked much like the young shopkeeper of Hogsmeade.

He closed the door behind him, walked to the podium, and naturally placed a steaming cup next to Severus.

"Honey lemon tea, my house-elf heard you had class and specially gave it to me."

Ian lowered his voice, a smile playing on his lips, "Nervous, Professor Snape?"

Severus glanced at him, didn't touch the cup, but his tense shoulders relaxed a little.

"Unnecessary," he said, but his tone was not sharp.

“Just say that.” Ian leaned back on the edge of the podium, turning to look at him. “Remember, they’re just a bunch of eleven-year-old kids, most of them can’t even tell the difference between moonstone and regular quartz. You don’t need to like them, just teach them not to blow themselves up, and incidentally, don’t let them develop a permanent phobia of potions.”

"I'm not as 'amiable' as Slughorn," Severus said dryly.

“Nobody expects you to be all affable,” Ian laughed. “Just be yourself, strict, precise, and to the point. That’s your style, except maybe… reduce the amount of sarcasm a little?” He winked.

A series of hurried, crisp footsteps and excited voices approached rapidly from outside the corridor.

The first-year students have arrived.

Ian quickly straightened up and, before Severus could react, leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the corner of his lips.

"Good luck, Professor. Let me know how things are going at dinner."

He quickly slipped to an inconspicuous side door at the back of the classroom, the passageway leading to his temporary workshop, which Dumbledore had granted him permission to use before Ian was officially settled in Hogsmeade.

The side door closed gently, and the front door of the classroom was pushed open.

Chattering little wizards poured in, filled with curiosity, trepidation, and excitement at entering the magical world for the first time.

They were wearing brand-new robes. The Ravenclaws keenly surveyed the classroom environment, while the Hufflepuffs seemed somewhat reserved, huddled together.

When they saw the professor behind the podium, dressed in a black robe, expressionless, and with a cold aura, all sounds seemed to be instantly cut off.

The children searched for their seats on their own, albeit with a slight urgency, leaving only the sounds of robes rubbing and chairs being dragged in the classroom.

Severus raised his eyes, his gaze slowly sweeping over the young, upturned faces below.

He picked up the roster, scanned it, and then his voice rang out in the quiet cellar classroom. It was steady and clear, without any deliberate attempt to raise his voice, yet it had a penetrating quality that made every child prick up their ears.

"I am Severus Snape, your Potions professor."

There was no welcome, no small talk, just getting straight to the point.

"Potion making is a precise and rigorous discipline. It doesn't require you to have dazzling magical talent, but it does require absolute patience, meticulous observation, meticulous operation, and full respect for the properties of the materials."

He put down the roster, placed his hands on the edge of the podium, and leaned forward slightly.

This posture creates an invisible sense of oppression.

"Here, carelessness means failure, stupidity means danger, and arrogance..."

He paused, his dark eyes sweeping over a few students who seemed unconvinced. "It means you'll be leaving my classroom with stains that are hard to remove, or worse."

"Now, open your 'Potions and Elixirs' book to the first page. Today, we will not touch the cauldron. We will learn to identify and handle three of the most basic and easily confused materials."

He turned around, picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote clear cursive characters on the blackboard.

He explained the characteristics, appearance, smell, magical fluctuations, possible contaminants, and identification methods of each material in a stern tone, but every point hit the nail on the head.

A student tried to raise their hand to ask a question, but the question was somewhat naive.

Severus didn't mock him; he simply reiterated the key points in more concise language and then asked, "Do you understand?" The student blushed, nodded, and sat down.