The End of the School Year and a Silent Invitation

The end of the school year at Hogwarts arrived like the last rain before a Scottish summer, the air thick with tension and restlessness. The OWLs and NEWTs exam week began first, with older students sporting dark circles from late nights, their steps hurried. For the younger years, especially first-years like Lin Yanqing and Snape, there were no major exams, but professors had assigned heavy final essays and class quizzes, and the castle's atmosphere of study suddenly intensified.

The library became the most sought-after place. Lin Yanqing still chose his usual quiet spot near the entrance to the Restricted Section. Snape also appeared in his usual corner, but unlike before, he seemed to have erected a thicker, colder mental barrier around himself. Since the note incident in History of Magic class, he appeared to be doing his utmost to seal off his thoughts. Whenever Lin Yanqing inadvertently sensed him through their Contract, all he received was a deliberately maintained, almost hollow calm, like a lake forcibly frozen over.

He was on guard. Guarding against that pervasive bond from prying into his mind again.

However, the power of the Contract was not mere thought-stealing. Under the pressure of final exams, another, harder-to-control influence began to manifest.

It happened during a short quiz in Charms class. Professor Flitwick asked them to publicly demonstrate a spell they had learned that semester and felt they had mastered best. When it was Lin Yanqing's turn, he chose the Mending Charm. He concentrated, flicked his wand, and aimed at a cracked teacup before him.

Just as the spell was about to succeed, a sudden, intense wave of anxiety pierced his consciousness like an ice pick—not his own, but clearly coming through the Contract from Snape, who was in another part of the classroom, waiting for his turn!

Snape seemed to lack confidence in a particular detail of a Transfiguration spell (which was extremely rare for him). Although he maintained his composure outwardly, the subtle anxiety deep within him, imperceptible to others, was accurately captured and amplified by the Contract, transmitted to Lin Yanqing.

Lin Yanqing's wrist trembled almost imperceptibly, and the steady light at the tip of his wand flickered. The teacup before him made a soft "crackle" sound. The cracks had healed, but a faint, lightning-shaped white mark remained on the cup's surface.

"Oh... very close, Mr. Lin," Professor Flitwick said regretfully, adjusting his glasses. "Your magic output fluctuated slightly at the last moment, affecting a perfect repair. Ravenclaw loses one point for instability."

Lin Yanqing lowered his head in silence. He could feel the anxiety from Snape's side mixed with a trace of almost schadenfreude-like relief the moment he made his mistake, but it was quickly replaced by deeper irritation—Snape had likely realized that Lin Yanqing's error was related to his own emotions.

This was not Snape's intention, and he might not have even realized the momentary leakage and influence of his emotions. But this incident clearly showed that under pressure, the now-flexible bond between them was more like a two-way emotional conduit; the fluctuations of one would inevitably interfere with the other.

In the following days, similar situations occurred occasionally. Sometimes, while Lin Yanqing was writing his History of Magic essay, he would be interrupted by Snape's extreme frustration, transmitted from across the castle, caused by being stuck on a complex potion-making step. Other times, during Potions class, Snape would become inexplicably more sullen due to Lin Yanqing's brief sense of elation after completing a System task.

They were like two divers tied together; if one's breathing became erratic, it would disturb the other's oxygen supply.

This forced, unwelcome emotional sharing left both of them utterly exhausted. Snape's aura of low spirits was almost palpable, while Lin Yanqing learned to immediately practice the initial stages of Legilimency (he'd picked up a bit from that dragon-hide notebook) whenever he sensed strong negative emotions from the other party, attempting to establish a meager defense.

The week before the end of the school year, the House points were announced. Gryffindor lost many points due to a series of "exploits" by the Weasley brothers (Note: Based on the timeline, this should be an older generation of Weasleys), while Slytherin, with their Quidditch victory and the excellent performance of students like Snape in class, once again won the House Cup.

At the End-of-Year Feast, the Slytherin table erupted in cheers of silver and green. Snape sat amidst the crowd, still an outsider. He didn't celebrate excitedly like the others, merely lowering his head slightly, a barely perceptible, almost mocking curve at the corner of his lips. Lin Yanqing could sense that he didn't care much about the House Cup itself; that curve seemed directed at Gryffindor's (especially James Potter's) failure.

After the feast, students began packing their luggage, preparing to take the Hogwarts Express back to King's Cross Station the next day.

While cleaning out his trunk, Lin Yanqing found an extremely inconspicuous piece of parchment tucked away in a corner with some odds and ends, held down by a potion cork. A thought struck him, and he picked up the parchment and unfolded it.

There was no salutation, no signature, only a single line of text, the ink applied with more force than ever before, as if carrying some suppressed resolve:

"Maintain contact. When necessary."

Lin Yanqing held the note for a long time in silence.

This was by no means an expression of friendship, nor even an invitation to cooperate. It was more like a cold notification, a statement based on pure pragmatism regarding a summer "contingency plan." "Maintain contact" implied he might continue to serve as a provider of potion ingredients or an information channel; "when necessary" drew a clear boundary—this connection would only be activated when he (Snape) deemed it necessary.

Snape acknowledged the tool value of this bond and unilaterally defined its usage rules.

Lin Yanqing placed the note over a candle and lit it, watching it turn to ash.

He understood that for Severus Snape, this was the closest he could get to "maintaining a relationship." He detested this bond, but he detested losing control even more. In the upcoming, unpredictable summer vacation (especially returning to the unpleasant Spinner's End), keeping a potentially useful "tool" aligned with his survival logic.

The Hogwarts Express was once again traveling towards London. The carriage was filled with the students' noisy chatter about their holiday plans. Lin Yanqing sat alone in a compartment, watching the scenery flash by the window.

He could vaguely sense that the being connected at the other end of the soul bond, as the train headed south, was gradually sinking into a familiar abyss of gloom and wariness. That was the aura of Spinner's End.

The first academic year concluded in such a way, filled with contradictions, probing, danger, and a relationship maintained by an extremely faint, cold pragmatism.

"Main storyline of the first academic year concluded. Settling..."

"Contract Stability: 65%"

"Bond Value: 5/100"

"Title Acquired: [Resilient Bond Maintainer]"

"Rewards Issued: System Points x1000, [Beginner Legilimency] Skill Book x1."

The System's prompt sounded in his mind.

Lin Yanqing leaned against the window, closing his eyes. He knew that the summer vacation was not a break, but another battlefield. He needed to master Legilimency, prepare for potential contact from Snape based on "necessity," and also... prepare for the inevitably more complex situation in the second academic year.

The train rumbled on, carrying secrets, magic, and two souls forcibly connected, heading towards an unknown summer.