Prelude to Second Year and Silent Oatcakes

The Hogwarts Express, spewing steam once more, carried excited students towards the dreamlike castle in September. Lin Yanqing sat in his compartment, watching the increasingly desolate yet magnificent scenery outside the window. His state of mind was completely different from a year ago. He was no longer a lost and bewildered transmigrator; he had a clear goal—to survive and navigate the complex relationship with that Slytherin.

He could clearly feel that the being connected to the other end of the soul bond had an emotional undertone deeper and colder than at the end of the last school year, as if the shadows of Spinner's End had completely seeped into his bones. Yet, beneath this icy, stagnant water, there seemed to be a hint of something... not purely repulsive. Perhaps it was a reluctant acknowledgment of the "utility" the bond had displayed in desperate times.

Returning to the castle, everything was familiar yet new. The Great Hall's ceiling still shifted with the weather, and students chattered noisily around the four long tables. During the Sorting Ceremony, another batch of nervous first-years donned the worn Sorting Hat.

Lin Yanqing saw familiar classmates at the Ravenclaw table and exchanged friendly greetings. His gaze inadvertently swept across the Slytherin table. Snape sat at his usual inconspicuous end, head bowed, a glass of water before him, oblivious to the surrounding noise, like a black reef that had automatically isolated itself from all sound waves.

The new academic year's classes began. The curriculum for second-year Charms noticeably deepened, with Professor Flitwick teaching them more offensive and practical spells, such as the Leg-Locker Curse and the Fire-Making Spell. In Potions class, Professor Slughorn enthusiastically announced that they would begin learning to brew several common antidotes this semester.

"Of course, children," he said, his large belly shaking as he smiled, "to deal with more complex toxins, we need more precise cutting and more stable heat. For example, with Billywig worm stings, the fineness of the powder directly affects..."

Just then, Lin Yanqing felt an extremely brief gaze fall upon him. He looked up, catching Snape's eyes quickly shifting away. The other was bent over, grinding some kind of root with meticulous precision.

Lin Yanqing's heart stirred. He was almost certain that Snape's glance just now was related to the extremely high-quality شفافیت he had gifted him, which he had kept safely stored and hadn't used yet. Was Snape confirming if the "goods" were being kept properly? Or... was it a subtle concern about the completion of that "transaction" that even he himself might not have realized?

This concern wasn't benevolent; it was more like a confirmation of "possession" or "a completed task."

A few days later, on a cool morning. Before heading to the Great Hall for breakfast, Lin Yanqing habitually went to the library to return a book he had borrowed the previous night, "Intermediate Potion Theory." The library was quiet and empty in the early morning, with only the faint sounds of Madam Pince organizing bookshelves.

At his usual spot near the Restricted Section, he saw something that shouldn't have been there.

A small, palm-sized package, simply wrapped in clean parchment, lay quietly in the center of the table.

There was no name, no note.

Lin Yanqing's heart skipped a beat. He walked forward but didn't touch it immediately. Instead, he used Magical Perception to scan it—there were no dark curses or dangerous magical traces on the package, only a very faint, cold magical residue belonging to Snape, as if it had been accidentally picked up when he took it.

He carefully opened the parchment.

Inside were two plain-looking, even somewhat dry and hard, oatcakes. Unlike the soft honey cake he had tried to share before, these oatcakes looked... ordinary, durable, more like some kind of emergency rations.

Lin Yanqing was stunned.

This wasn't a return gift. The return gift had already been completed over the summer with the شفافیت.

It certainly wasn't a gesture of friendship.

So, what was this?

He picked up an oatcake and examined it carefully. Besides the grainy scent of oats, there was nothing special. He hesitated, then gently broke off a small piece and put it in his mouth.

The taste... was very ordinary, even a bit rough, with the pure, unprocessed grain flavor, and a faint, perhaps acquired during storage, cold scent reminiscent of basements and old parchment.

The scent of Spinner's End.

Instantly, Lin Yanqing understood.

This wasn't sharing. This was perhaps a... test. A more covert probe based on the "successful" material transfer during the summer.

Snape was using his own method to confirm the stability and "logistics" capability of this connecting channel under normal circumstances. He chose the most inconspicuous item, one least likely to arouse suspicion, and one that best suited his own situation (cheap, readily available, and long-lasting). He was confirming whether this "exchange" could still proceed silently in a non-crisis state.

He was expanding the application scenarios of this "utilitarian" bond.

Lin Yanqing silently rewrapped the remaining oatcakes and put them in his robes. He didn't eat them, nor did he throw them away. He regarded them as a "signal," a cold milestone marking a new phase in their twisted relationship.

Later that day, before Potions class began, Lin Yanqing arrived at the classroom early. He saw Snape already sitting in his usual spot. As Lin Yanqing walked past him, without any eye contact or pause, he very naturally let a small cloth bag he had prepared earlier, containing several basic potion ingredients commonly used by Snape (including Dried Billywig Worm Stinger Powder), slip from his sleeve, landing precisely in a hard-to-notice shadowed corner beneath Snape's workbench.

This was a response. It indicated that he had received the "signal" and was willing to continue this "transaction" within the rules set by the other party.

After doing this, he walked to his own workbench and began his preparations.

A few minutes later, he heard a very faint sound of fabric brushing against the floor behind him. Snape bent down and picked up the small cloth bag, his movements so quick they were like an illusion, attracting no attention.

Throughout the entire process, neither of them made eye contact or spoke.

But a new, even more peculiar "understanding" was established in the cold silence.

It had nothing to do with emotion, or even trust.

It was purely about utility, about two youths forcibly bound by fate finding a twisted yet practical way to coexist in a world full of thorns.

Lin Yanqing knew that the story of the second year would slowly unfold amidst this silent "material exchange" and deeper emotional tug-of-war. And the increasingly undisguised scrutinizing gazes from the Marauders also reminded him that this cold "calm" could be shattered at any moment.