HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

When explaining the differences between Aconitum carmichaelii and Aconitum davidii, he mentioned a rare variant that can only be found in areas infested by high-risk werewolves, and warned of the consequences of misidentification.

Halfway through the course, he had the students take turns coming forward to observe the samples placed in three small crystal dishes on the podium.

He stood aside, watching the little heads cautiously approaching, occasionally correcting those who were too bold in trying to sniff: "Smoke, don't get too close, your noses aren't the victims."

A Ravenclaw boy accurately identified the three materials and pointed out the slight unevenness in color in the narcissus root powder, suspecting that it was mixed with a small amount of dried swamp grass powder.

Severus glanced at him and nodded: "Observational skills are acceptable, Ravenclaw gets two points."

The boy's face lit up, and his Hufflepuff classmate next to him smiled with pride.

When the bell rang, most students had their parchment pages filled with notes.

They seemed relieved, yet also somewhat unsatisfied. The class wasn't as terrifying as they had imagined, but it was definitely not relaxing, and they had indeed learned something.

"Homework: Write a 12-inch paper on the key points of identifying the three materials and the consequences of confusion. It is due before class on Thursday. Now, tidy up your desk and leave quietly."

The students packed their things and filed out, talking in hushed tones.

The classroom fell silent again.

Severus stood there, looking at the empty chairs, and after a moment, he began to tidy up the samples and lesson plans on the podium.

His fingertips touched the teacup, which had gone lukewarm. He paused, picked it up, and took a sip. The warm, sweet liquid slid down his throat.

The side door opened silently, and Ian poked half his body in, a smile on his face.

"How is it?"

Severus put down his cup and gathered his lesson plans. "...Acceptable."

"Just passable?" Ian walked in, took the things from his hands, and helped him organize them. "I peeked for a few minutes. The handwriting on the blackboard was beautiful, and the explanation was clear. I even got extra points. Merlin, Slughorn never gave me extra points so readily when I was in school."

"That Ravenclaw certainly paid attention to detail," Severus said calmly, but Ian detected a faint hint of satisfaction in his voice.

"See, I told you you could do it." Ian nudged him with his shoulder. "Come on, Professor Snape, it's time for lunch. There's Gryffindor and Slytherin this afternoon? That's the real test."

Severus snorted, but let Ian push him out.

……

The cottage on the edge of Hogsmeade was much smaller than the stone house in the Cotswolds, but the fireplace burned brightly, and the air was filled with the warm aroma of stew.

Ian "negotiated" it from the Hogwarts kitchen—in exchange for several housework improvement spells.

When Severus pushed open the door, his black robes still carried the damp chill of the cellar, as well as a trace of the youthful, restless magic left behind by a first-year student.

Ian, who was adjusting the cushions by the fireplace with his back to him, turned around at the sound and smiled.

"It's earlier than I expected. Looks like the little monsters didn't keep you after school."

"They dare not." Severus took off his outer robe and hung it up, his movements somewhat slow.

After a long day of tension, I belatedly relaxed as I stepped into this warm space, and a wave of fatigue washed over me.

Ian walked over, took the tie he had taken off, and touched the side of his neck with his fingers.

My neck is stiff.

"You've been standing for too long." Severus closed his eyes, letting Ian's warm fingertips press on the tense muscles of his neck, kneading them with just the right amount of force.

He almost let out a comfortable sigh, but he suppressed it.

"How were the Gryffindor and Slytherin sessions?" Ian asked, his hands still moving, pressing down along both sides of the spine through the shirt fabric to massage the stiff back muscles.

"...Noisy, the eager look in those little lions' eyes is irritating." Severus's voice was muffled, tired, but not displeased. "Slytherin...too quiet, overly cautious. A few of them are secretly observing my attitude."

"That's normal. After all, you were the first person to enter Hogwarts 'after the war'... well, a controversial one."

Ian turned him to face him, cupping his face in his hands and stroking the faint blue shadows under his eyes with his thumbs. "But Dumbledore letting you stand on the podium is the strongest endorsement. Take your time."

Severus grunted in response, opened his eyes, and his dark pupils reflected Ian's face in the glow of the firelight.

He looked at it very intently, as if he were confirming something.

"What are you looking at?" Ian laughed, leaning closer and pressing his forehead against Ian's.

"Look at you," Severus said, his voice lowering, "here."

It's like confirming that this tranquility isn't just another tense lull, but rather a tangible, grounded present.

Ian's heart softened, and he kissed the tip of his nose, then moved down to kiss his slightly cool lips.

At first, it was just a gentle touch, a delicate caress, like soothing, or like savoring.

Severus didn't move, only his eyelashes trembled, then he slowly closed his eyes, letting Ian's tongue tentatively lick his lips before probing deeper.

The kiss deepened, carrying the subtle sweetness of honey lemon tea and the warmth of the fireplace.

Ian's hand slid down to his back, pulling him closer to himself, while his other hand ran through the black hair at the back of his head, gently massaging it with his fingertips.

Severus finally responded. He raised his arm and wrapped it around Ian's neck, his fingertips unconsciously curling as he grabbed the hair at the back of Ian's head. The grip was light, but it carried the dependence of a drowning person clinging to a piece of driftwood.

The aroma of stew in the air seemed even stronger, and the bubbling sound came from the kitchen.

The fire in the fireplace crackled and popped, sending up a few sparks.

Ian led him, slowly backing away until Severus's knees touched the edge of the sofa.

He sat down and pulled Severus onto his lap, straddling him, but the kiss didn't end; instead, it became longer and deeper because of the position.

After a long while, their lips parted, leaving a trail of fine saliva. Their foreheads touched, and their breathing became somewhat erratic.

Severus's face was flushed an unnatural red, whether from lack of oxygen or something else, his dark eyes were misty with tears, reflecting the flickering firelight. His usual coldness and guardedness had melted away completely, leaving only complete trust and a hint of barely perceptible shyness.

"Are you hungry?" Ian asked in a hoarse voice, his thumb rubbing his burning cheek.

Severus shook his head, then nodded, his gaze drifting towards the kitchen before quickly returning to Ian's face.

"...What did you do?"

"Vegetable stew with meat, with guidance from Hogwarts' house-elf, ensuring strict adherence to a nutritious recipe."

Ian smiled and pecked his slightly swollen lower lip again. "But you can eat it later."

His hand slipped under the hem of his shirt, his warm palm touching the smooth skin on his waist.

Severus shuddered, his body tensing instantly. He forced himself to relax, burying his face deeper into Ian's shoulder, his breath hot and itchy against Ian's neck.

"Ian..."

...(The censorship army passes by)...

"Go to sleep." Ian kissed the top of his sweaty head, his fingers gently combing through his damp hair.

"...Hungry," Severus suddenly mumbled, without even opening his eyes.

Ian chuckled softly, the vibrations of his chest sending shivers down Severus's spine. "The stew's probably going to be charred."

"As long as it's edible." Severus snuggled closer to him, his voice growing softer.

Ian held him, motionless, letting the firelight cast their shadows on the wall, swaying gently.

It seemed to be snowing lightly outside again, with a soft rustling sound tapping against the window.