HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

The next morning, when Severus woke up, Ian was no longer in bed.

The sizzling sound of frying eggs and a faint humming came from the kitchen; the tune was off-key and it was some Muggle pop song.

Severus sat up and rubbed his temples. He had actually fallen asleep on the carpet last night and slept so soundly.

He got out of bed, washed up, changed his clothes, and walked into the dining room just as Ian brought out two plates of breakfast.

"Good morning, Professor." Ian pushed the plate in front of him; besides fried eggs and bacon, there were also a few slices of roasted tomato—Leah had repeatedly reminded him to take vitamins. "No classes this morning, right?"

"Hmm, no classes this morning." Severus picked up his fork and poked at a roasted tomato. The tomato was roasted perfectly, with slightly charred edges and full of juice. "There are two potions classes for third-year students this afternoon. They should be learning about pacifiers."

"You'll have to be on your guard then." Ian sat down opposite him, smiling as he took a sip of pumpkin juice. "Starting in the third year, the destructive power of the exploding crucibles increases significantly. By the way, I'm going to the greenhouse this morning. Professor Sprout said that the new batch of poisonous tentacle seeds needs extra treatment. Would you like to come along? Consider it a walk."

Severus hesitated for a moment.

Dealing with the poisonous tentacles requires delicate magical manipulation, but... being in the greenhouse with Ian, away from the cold of the cellar and the endless papers to be reviewed, doesn't sound so bad.

"Okay," he said briefly, and continued eating his breakfast.

The morning sun was lovely, casting bright dappled light through the high windows of the Hogwarts corridors onto the floor.

They walked through the castle, occasionally a student would rush by, stopping abruptly when he saw Severus, stammering a greeting: "Good morning, Professor Snape! Mr. Burke!"

Severus simply nodded slightly, while Ian responded with a smile.

The greenhouse was warm and humid, filled with the scent of earth and plants.

Professor Sprout was feeding a giant Venus flytrap when he saw them come in, and a smile spread across his round face.

"Ah, Severus, Ian! Great! These poisonous tentacle seeds are somehow a bit too vigorous. I was just about to use a calming spell, but I was afraid it would affect the germination rate."

She pointed to several sealed ceramic basins in the corner, from which came a faint rustling sound, like fingernails scratching clay.

Ian crouched down and carefully opened a crack, releasing a pungent aroma.

He squinted at it, then used the tip of his wand to draw out a sliver of light, and the rustling sound immediately became more rapid.

"It's a magical overload; it might have been stimulated during transport," Ian judged, looking up at Severus. "With diluted moonstone powder?"

Severus had already rolled up his sleeves, revealing his well-defined forearms.

He took out several crystal bottles and silver tools from his small bag.

"Can."

Professor Sprout breathed a sigh of relief: "I'll leave it to you. I need to go check on those mandrakes; they're almost ready for repotting, and they cry terribly when they do."

She hurried to the other end of the greenhouse.

Ian and Severus began their work.

The two worked together seamlessly, requiring almost no words.

Sunlight streamed through the glass roof, casting shadows of his eyelashes on Severus's focused profile.

Ian would occasionally glance at him, his gaze soft.

By the time all the poisonous tentacle seeds were dealt with, it was nearly noon.

Severus had a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, and Ian naturally wiped it away with his sleeve.

"Tired?"

"It's alright." Severus put away his tools and looked at the pottery bowls that had quieted down. "Before class this afternoon, Pomona can move them to Sector Seven, where the magic is more stable."

"Hmm, I'll tell her." Ian stretched. "Lunch in the Great Hall? Or back in the cellar, and I'll have my house-elf deliver it?"

"The auditorium," Severus said.

He needed to be in the public eye and maintain the presence that "Professor Snape" should have, especially in this seemingly calm but actually turbulent time.

At lunchtime, the auditorium was as noisy as ever. Long tables were piled high with food, and the students' chatter almost lifted the ceiling.

Ian and Severus sat down in the faculty section, next to Professor McGonagall, who was whispering something to Professor Flitwick.

Quirrell sat alone at the other end of the long table, with only a small salad in front of him. His purple headscarf stood out conspicuously in the bright auditorium.

His hand holding the fork trembled slightly, and he barely ate a few bites, his gaze occasionally drifting towards the Gryffindor table—or more precisely, towards Harry Potter.

Harry was having a lively discussion with Ron, Seamus, and Dean, waving a chicken leg in his hand and laughing without a trace of malice.

Neville sat beside him, somewhat shy but smiling along, occasionally adding a whispered comment.

Severus cut the roasted potatoes on his plate expressionlessly, his gaze sweeping briefly over Quirrell before returning to his own plate.

Ian poured him a glass of pumpkin juice and gently tapped his knee under the table.

"He's looking at it too often," Ian said in a barely audible whisper, picking up his glass.

"Anxiety," Severus replied curtly, forking a potato and putting it in his mouth, chewing slowly. "The possession state weakens the host's mind, and Quirrell was already..."

He didn't finish speaking, but Ian understood: Quirrell was never a man of strong will.

After lunch, they parted ways.

Severus returned to the cellar to prepare for his afternoon class, while Ian went to the Owl's Hut to mail replies to Leah and John, and also sent a note to Mr. Boggin, simply inquiring whether Knockturn Alley was "calm and peaceful."

He knew that if anything seemed amiss, Mr. Bogin would have a way to send a message.

For the next week or two, life at Hogwarts flowed on beneath a surface of routine.

First-year flying lessons were scheduled for Friday afternoons, together with Gryffindor and Slytherin.

The news spread, and the young wizards were thrilled; the talk of the town, both inside and outside the castle, revolved around brooms.

Harry also mentioned it in his letter to Lily, his words brimming with barely suppressed anticipation.

The weather was nice on the day of the flight lesson; it was windy but sunny.

At the edge of the field, Ms. Huo Qi's voice was clear and strong, and a row of neat old brooms lay on the grass.

Severus stood at the window of his office, where he could catch a glimpse of tiny, ant-like figures on the distant field.

He was supposed to be grading a pile of third-grade papers on the uses of pus from the tuber of the baboon, but his quill pen hovered over the parchment for a long time without falling.

Ian pushed open the door and came in, carrying two rolls of silver thread ferns he had brought back from the greenhouse.

He saw Severus's silhouette standing by the window, smiled, placed the fern on the shelf in the corner, walked over and hugged him from behind.

"Worried?" Ian rested his chin on his shoulder and followed his gaze to the flight training grounds that were faintly visible in the distance.

"Potter inherited his father's arrogance, especially when it comes to brooms." Severus's voice was harsh, but he leaned back and snuggled into Ian's arms.

"He inherited the talent too. Lily said he almost hit the ceiling the first time he touched a children's broom, but he was able to control it immediately." Ian kissed behind his ear. "Don't be so tense, Ms. Hodge is here."

Even so, the two watched quietly. They were too far away to hear anything, only able to see the little dots rising one after another, some crooked, others relatively stable.

After a while, a small dot seemed to dart up exceptionally high, moving with remarkable agility, and tracing a smooth arc in the low sky.

Immediately afterwards, there seemed to be a slight disturbance, with several people gathering and then dispersing, but order was quickly restored.