Hogwarts lay wrapped in biting November winds, and a thin layer of ice had begun to form along the edges of the Black Lake. Though the castle was warm, the particular exhaustion of the semester's end had begun to spread among the students. For Snape, that exhaustion ran deeper, mixed with the lingering low pressure of rumors and the increasingly undisguised contemptuous looks from certain people within Slytherin.
The connection between him and Lin Yanqing, one founded on "utility," entered an even stranger state after the Mistletoe Berries incident. Their regular exchange of supplies did not resume, nor did they communicate in any form. Yet in certain situations requiring intense concentration or involving potential interference—such as Charms class tests or complicated Potions class procedures—Lin Yanqing could occasionally sense an extremely subtle, almost "standby" state coming from Snape. He no longer seemed to completely seal off the contract's emotional channel as he had before, instead tacitly allowing it to exist at critical moments as a... "warning" or "stabilizer."
It was a limited, conditional openness. Only when he deemed it "necessary."
At the same time, Lin Yanqing noticed something. As the weather grew colder, many students changed into thicker winter robes or wrapped themselves in wool scarves sent from home. Yet Snape still wore that somewhat thin old black robe, its cuffs even showing signs of wear. Through the contract, whenever a bone-chilling gust blew at the castle entrance, Lin Yanqing could clearly catch the fleeting physical shiver of cold from him, though Snape immediately forced it down with sheer willpower.
Spinner's End had clearly not prepared any warm clothing for him.
The system issued no task, but Lin Yanqing felt that he should do something. Not because of a mission, but because of the most instinctive reaction to seeing a companion—though this particular companion was exceptionally awkward—freezing in the cold. He knew that directly giving him clothes was absolutely impossible. It would offend Snape's pride even more seriously than sharing food.
He needed a more indirect, less conspicuous way.
The opportunity came on a weekend near the Christmas break. A Hogsmeade weekend had arrived, and students from third year and above could visit the village. Although first- and second-years could not go, the castle was much emptier as a result. Lin Yanqing asked a friendly Ravenclaw seventh-year who was preparing to visit Hogsmeade to use the system coins he had saved up to buy a sturdy black winter robe at Elegant Wizarding Apparel in the village, plain in style and without any decoration. He also told the older student not to mention it to anyone.
The next problem was delivery.
Giving it to him directly would not work. Lin Yanqing thought about it for a long time before finally coming up with a place—the Room of Requirement. For several nights, he paced back and forth in front of the tapestry depicting trolls beating Silly Barnaby on the Seventh Floor, silently repeating, I need a place to store an item that must be found by a specific person, but not discovered by anyone else.
When the door appeared, he stepped inside. It was a small, empty, dust-covered storage room with only a wooden shelf that looked ready to fall apart. Lin Yanqing placed the plain parcel containing the new robe on the top shelf, then used his wand to leave an exceedingly tiny mark on the rough stone wall beside it, nearly blending into the grain of the stone—a simple ancient rune made of two intersecting triangles, representing "protection" and "contract." He had learned it from that dragonhide notebook, and Snape would certainly recognize it.
Then he left the Room of Requirement.
Early the next morning, before dawn and while most students were still asleep, Lin Yanqing slipped a note folded to the size of a fingernail into a pile of letters about to be sent by owl, then placed it beside the seat Snape usually occupied in the library. The note bore only that rune and a single line of tiny writing: "Seventh Floor, opposite the tapestry."
He did not sign it, and he had disguised his handwriting.
It was a gamble. He was betting that Snape's curiosity and understanding of the rune's meaning would drive him to investigate.
For the entire day, Lin Yanqing could sense an emotion from the other end of the soul bond that differed from Snape's usual gloom: intense vigilance and scrutiny. Snape had clearly received the note and was weighing whether it was a trap or something else.
Not until evening did Lin Yanqing sense Snape's emotional fluctuations appearing near the Seventh Floor. He seemed to linger before the tapestry for a long time before, at last, the door to the Room of Requirement opened for him.
Over the next dozen minutes, Lin Yanqing felt the emotions on the other end shift from extreme vigilance to astonishment upon finding the item, then to a long, nearly frozen silence. There was no anger, no outraged irritation—only a profound, slowly flowing emotion that was difficult to decipher. He was examining the robe, and he was examining the intentions of the person who had left it.
At last, an emotion of resolution came through. Snape took the robe.
The next day, in Potions class, Snape appeared wearing that brand-new, well-fitting black winter robe. He still sat in his old seat and did not glance at Lin Yanqing, as though this new robe that had suddenly appeared to shield him from the cold was no different from the old one.
But when Professor Slughorn assigned them the task of brewing an advanced restorative that required a constant body temperature to succeed, Lin Yanqing noticed that Snape's movements were steadier and more composed than usual. Without the faint tremors caused by the cold, his actions were as precise as a machine's, and the quality of his finished potion even surpassed Slughorn's demonstration.
Through the contract, Lin Yanqing could sense that beneath that icy silence, something seemed to have... loosened ever so slightly. It was not gratitude, but more like the smooth relief of "the problem has been solved." Snape accepted this "gift" in the same way he accepted their "supply exchanges"—as a cold "tool" that addressed a practical need. Only this time, the tool was a robe.
After class, Snape was still the first to leave. But this time, after he had gone, Lin Yanqing found a thin handwritten notebook in the drawer of his worktable. The paper was rough, and the ink was in Snape's familiar cursive hand. It detailed quick counter-curses and protective techniques against several common prank spells, such as the Leg-Locker Curse and the Cheering Charm, even including subtle descriptions of how to sense the magical fluctuations of those spells.
There was no preface and no closing note. Yet the significance of this notebook far outweighed any material he had received before.
This was no longer simply a "return gift" or a transaction. It was... information sharing. It was the sharing of practical countermeasures against the external threat they currently faced together—the Marauders' pranks.
Snape was responding to that winter robe in his own way. He did not say thank you, and he would not even admit that it had anything to do with the robe. But he had given something that, within his understanding, was of the greatest value—knowledge and the means to defend oneself.
Lin Yanqing gently ran his fingers over the notebook's rough cover, feeling as though it still retained a trace of the dungeon's chill and the scent of parchment.
He knew that this winter might still be cold, but something beneath this frozen soil was quietly changing in an exceedingly slow, exceedingly awkward way.
Snow began to fall over Hogwarts, and the Christmas break was drawing near. This time, Lin Yanqing felt that the soul connected to the other end of their bond, after resisting the physical cold, seemed to have also... resisted a little of the storm within its heart.
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