HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

The next day, Severus woke up later than usual.

When I opened my eyes, the curtains on the opposite bed were already drawn back, the blankets were neatly folded, and the person was not there.

There was a cup of hot water on the table, still warm.

He sat up, his forehead still a little dizzy. The intermittent conversations and the light from the fireplace last night were mixed together in his memory, both blurry and clear.

After washing up and going downstairs, Ian was already eating breakfast. When he saw him, he pushed a plate of toast over to him.

"How did you sleep?"

"...Not bad." Severus sat down, picked up a slice of bread, and spread a thin layer of butter on it.

Kevin was frantically adding sugar to his oatmeal, and Aris was staring at him with disapproving eyes, but didn't stop him.

"Going to the library this morning?" Aris asked, flipping through the Daily Prophet in his hand, his brows furrowed slightly. There was a text message in the corner about an "unexplained magical disturbance" in Wiltshire. There were no reports of injuries, but it mentioned that the Department of Accidents and Disasters of the Ministry of Magic had intervened.

"Hmm," Severus replied briefly, glancing at the news article before looking away.

……

In December, the chill seeped into the stone walls of Hogwarts.

Holly and mistletoe began to appear in the auditorium, the armor was polished to a gleaming shine, and Filch was busy running around, eyeing any "suspicious festive revelry" with a watchful eye.

Slughorn's Slug Club announced the Christmas ball early on, to be held in a small hall next to the Great Hall that had been magically expanded.

The invitation was on gold-edged parchment and carried a sweet, perfumed scent.

"You have to bring a partner," Kevin read the invitation, his face scrunched up. "Where am I supposed to find a dance partner? Invite Aris?"

Without looking up, Aris, who was writing his history of magic paper, said, "Considering social etiquette and the height difference, I don't think this is a good idea. You could invite Marlene Witt; she borrowed your history of magic notes last week, and she doesn't seem to mind you talking about Quidditch."

Kevin's ears turned slightly red: "Really?"

Aris glanced at him, his eyes a little cold. "The probability is over seventy percent."

Ian's invitation was handed to him personally by Slughorn, with a winking remark: "Prefect, you'd better set a good example and liven things up."

As for Severus, the invitation appeared quietly beside his breakfast plate, just like everyone else's.

"Are you going?" Ian asked. They were in the Room of Requirement, checking a set of magical text translations.

Severus dipped his brush in ink: "I'm not going."

Why?

"There's no need."

"There's pumpkin pie, with raspberry jam filling, a new recipe from the house-elves." Ian poked the parchment with the end of his quill. "And Honeydukes' special candy tower, which is said to be three feet tall."

Severus continued writing: "You can bring some back."

"That's so boring." Ian put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and looked at him. "Come on, Severus. It'll only be a little while. We can slip away after the opening dance. Slughorn said every prefect has to dance the opening dance, and I have to go with Shafik... If you're not there, who am I supposed to go with?"

Severus finally looked up at him. Ian's expression was normal, with his usual lazy smile in his gray eyes, but the corners of his mouth were pursed, the kind of smile he had when he was determined to cheat.

"...The opening dance?"

"Slughorn decided that all four houses would do it this way, with the long jump being the first event for both the boys' and girls' classes. For Gryffindor, it's Potter and Lily, but Lupin is 'unwell,' so he gave it to Potter."

Ian shrugged. "You can leave after the dance. You can just watch from the side. After I'm done, we'll go to the kitchen and get something hot to drink. It's better than listening to people nagging at the dance."

Severus stared at him silently for a few seconds, then lowered his head, dabbed the tip of his pen on the parchment, leaving a small ink dot.

"……casual."

Ian's lips curled into a smile: "Then let's go."

On the night of the Christmas ball, the small hall was magically transformed into a winter garden.

Slughorn, wearing a crimson velvet dress embroidered with gold snails, moved through the crowd with a loud laugh.

Severus stood in the shadows beside an icicle, dressed in a neatly pressed black formal robe.

He arrived late, and the hall was already full of people, but he spotted Ian immediately.

Ian and Cassandra Shafik were standing in the center of the dance floor.

Shafiq wore a silver-green long dress, her chin slightly raised, her manners impeccable.

Ian stood opposite her, dressed in a dark gray gown that accentuated his straight shoulders.

He wore a polite smile and listened attentively to what Shafik was saying, nodding occasionally.

Severus looked away.

On the Gryffindor side, Potter was wearing an obviously expensive suit, and his hair seemed to have been tried to be flattened, but a few strands still stubbornly stuck out.

He was talking to Lily, his expression unusually tense and focused.

Lily wore a simple deep red dress, her hair was tied up, revealing her smooth forehead, and she smiled, looking bright and warm.

Slughorn clapped his hands, and music started playing.

It's a soothing waltz.

Ian extended his hand to Shafik with impeccable grace, and Shafik took his hand in return. The two then stepped into the center of the dance floor.

Potter and Lily also started spinning.

Severus watched.

Ian's dance steps were fluid and steady, leading, spinning, and twirling, maintaining just the right distance from Shafik.

He still wore that social smile, occasionally whispering a word to Shafik.

Shafik responded, his chin still maintaining a reserved curve.

Nothing special, just the prefect's duties, a performance.

Severus felt a tightness in his chest. The lights on the dance floor were too bright, the music too soft, and the figures of the two people spinning were too…in perfect harmony.

Shafik was a pureblood, a prefect, elegant, and well-mannered. Standing next to Ian, he looked like a painting that should appear on the social media page of the Daily Prophet.

He remembered Ian saying, "If you're not here, who am I going to run away with?" and the smug smile in Ian's eyes.

Now Ian is in the center of the dance floor, under everyone's gaze, fulfilling his duties as a prefect, dancing with another equally excellent person, also from Slytherin.

He stood in the shadows, watching.

The music was lingering, and Ian's hand rested lightly on Shafiq's waist, while his other hand held hers.

Severus noticed the exquisite embroidery on Shafik's skirt, the sparkling diamond pendant by her ear, and the glances cast at her by the people around them.

As the music ended, applause erupted. Slughorn shouted something, and the crowd began to surge onto the dance floor, with more couples joining in.

Ian bowed slightly to Shafik and said something, to which Shafik returned the bow.

Then Ian turned around, his gaze sweeping across the crowd, and quickly locked onto Severus's direction.

He walked this way, weaving through the small groups of people. The social smile on his face faded, and he reverted to the expression Severus was familiar with, carrying a hint of ease at completing a task and a subtle, almost imperceptible urgency.