HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

"Although that person doesn't recruit current students, their inclinations usually represent the family's attitude." Aris closed the book. "That person's actions are getting increasingly aggressive; it probably won't be long before..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone understood. The increasingly tense atmosphere at the Ministry of Magic and the frequent disappearances of wizards reported in the Daily Prophet all proved that the world of magic in Britain was about to change.

Ian leaned back on the sofa and looked towards the fireplace. Severus was still looking down at his potions book, but hadn't turned a single page.

"Let's go," Ian suddenly said. "Let's go back and pack our things. We have Charms class early tomorrow morning."

As they got up to leave, they could feel the gazes on their backs.

Flint didn’t look at them, but a seventh grader next to him followed them with his eyes until they walked out of the portrait cave.

……

The atmosphere at the Slytherin table was more relaxed at breakfast the next day than the night before.

Regulus, carrying his pumpkin juice, naturally walked over and sat down at an empty spot in their section, diagonally opposite Severus.

His expression was more subdued than usual today, with subtle bluish shadows under his eyes.

"Good morning," he said first, his voice not loud, but clear enough.

"Good morning, Blake," Ian mumbled, biting into his toast.

Severus raised his eyes and nodded.

Regulus didn't immediately get to the point. He slowly spread butter on the bread, mentioning as if casually, "The academy has received a new batch of dried Spanish salamanders, the quality of which is better than last year. Professor Slughorn should give them priority to the advanced research groups."

Severus paused stirring the oatmeal for half a second. "Hmm, I've heard about it."

A brief silence.

From the other end of the long table came the suppressed laughter of several sixth-grade girls.

Regulus put down his knife and pulled a thin hardcover book from his bag on the chair next to him.

The book cover is dark brown, without any words, and the corners are badly worn, but it has been carefully preserved.

He pushed the book to the center of the table, lightly tapped the cover with his fingertip, but his gaze was fixed on Severus.

"Luciusto, I brought this to you," he said, lowering his voice. "He said...you might be interested in this area."

Severus didn't go to get it right away; he looked at the book and then at Regulus.

"Senior Malfoy?" he repeated, his tone flat.

"Hmm." Regulus forced a smile, but it was short-lived. "He said it was an academic exchange, nothing more."

Ian's fork stopped in mid-air, his gaze sweeping over the old book before settling on Regulus's face.

There was something else in the eyes of this Black heir; it wasn't just about sharing, but more like an unease of being ordered around.

Severus reached out, took the book, and opened the cover.

"A soul remedy," he said softly, not in doubt.

Regulus nodded.

"Lucius said that you mentioned similar hypotheses in your previous papers and that he might be interested. This book is in a private collection and cannot be found on the market."

Severus turned to the first page.

The yellowed paper was covered with dense notes in two different handwriting styles: one old and meticulous, the other more modern and sharp, clearly annotations from a later writer.

His gaze was immediately drawn to it.

Ian watched his profile as he quickly became engrossed in the story, then lowered his head and took a sip of milk.

Lucius Malfoy was indeed brilliant; the academic exchange gift he gave precisely hit Severus's most irresistible spot.

"Thank Malfoy for me," Severus said without looking up, his fingers already unconsciously tracing a line of notes.

"I will," Regulus replied, his tone lighter, as if he had breathed a sigh of relief after completing his task. He stood up. "Well then, I won't bother you any longer."

He left with a lighter step than when he arrived.

Several upperclassmen who had been watching this area exchanged glances but said nothing.

Kevin leaned closer, glanced at the pages, and immediately pulled away: "Merlin, what kind of scribbling is this?"

Aris also came over to take a look. "Soul potion, a very niche field, but it's valuable. The Malfoy family certainly has a deep foundation."

"He also knows how to cater to people's preferences." Ian put down his cup.

Severus then looked up from the book, glanced at Ian, closed the book, and carefully put it into his bag.

"It's just theory," he said, as if speaking to Ian, but also as if speaking to himself.

"Hmm." Ian didn't say anything more.

In the following days, the winds of change quietly shifted within Slytherin.

As part of the Potions Club's group assignments, Severus naturally received the best materials and his own workbench.

Even during Quidditch practice, Kevin noticed that the batter who always picked on him had started passing the ball to him.

"Damn it," Kevin muttered in the common room, "the way they're looking at us now, like we've suddenly become...one of their own?"

"They're not one of us," Aris calmly corrected. "They're valuable potential allies. That lord needs all sorts of talent, and Severus's research direction is clearly seen as having practical applications."

Severus spent most of his free time reading that book.

He often sat for hours in the most secluded spot of the library or the room where requests were made, with the book and a thick stack of draft paper spread out in front of him, the rustling sound of his quill pen almost never stopping.

Sometimes he would suddenly stop, stare at a certain passage of text, his brow furrowed, or quickly jot down a few lines of reasoning, his eyes shining with an astonishing intensity.

Ian didn't bother him, but just sat not far away, doing his own thing, occasionally glancing up at him.

He knew Severus was captivated; those ancient and profound theories, that possibility of pushing the limits, held a fatal attraction for him.

But Ian also noticed that Severus would occasionally stop, stare at the annotations, his fingers unconsciously curling up, and then force himself to continue reading.

……

One night, they stayed at the dormitory a little late, close to curfew. In order to get back to their dormitory as quickly as possible, they took a shortcut with fewer people.

Just as we passed an archway leading to an abandoned terrace, a suppressed argument came from the direction of the terrace.

"...Are you really content to be their puppet? A docile dog?"

It was Sirius Black's voice, suppressed with anger, lower and hoarse than usual.

There was no immediate answer.

Then, Regulus's voice rang out, very softly, "This is my choice, Sirius, and also the family's expectation."

"The family's expectations!" Sirius practically spat out the words through clenched teeth. "So you're supposed to lick that madman's robes? To learn those... those disgusting dark magic spells? Look at you now, Regulus! You're only thirteen, but you talk like an old man! Like a corpse!"

"Watch your words." Regulus's voice remained calm, but something beneath it cracked. "You have no right to judge my path. When you chose to betray the family and tarnish the name of Black, you lost that right."