Undercurrents Beneath the Ice

Hogwarts in December was draped in a blanket of white, the Black Lake completely frozen over, and the snow in the courtyard deep enough to cover one's ankles. With the Christmas holidays approaching, the castle was once again filled with a festive atmosphere and the bustle of departures. Most students were enthusiastically discussing their holiday plans, looking forward to reuniting with their families.

Snape showed no reaction to this. He still wore his well-fitting new black robes, always alone, as if the surrounding joy and his existence belonged to two entirely different worlds. Through their contract, Lin Yanqing could clearly sense that as the holidays drew nearer, the emotional undertone emanating from Spinner's End grew increasingly somber and cold, even carrying a hint of subtle tension beyond the usual. It was a preparatory state of mingled disgust and endurance, facing a known source of pain.

Lin Yanqing himself had also chosen to stay at school. The "distant relatives" arranged by the System held no genuine familial affection, and remaining at Hogwarts made it easier for him to research magic and deal with any potential "necessary" connections.

In the last Potions class before the break, Professor Slughorn assigned an interesting holiday homework—free study. He encouraged students to try brewing a potion they had learned about that semester and were interested in, documenting the process and their thoughts as a presentation for the start of the next term.

"Unleash your creativity, children!" Slughorn boomed, his belly jiggling, a genial smile on his face. "Perhaps the inspiration for the next Potions Master will be born this Christmas holiday!"

The students murmured amongst themselves, most opting for relatively simple potions with easily obtainable ingredients. Lin Yanqing noticed a fleeting, intensely bright glint in Snape's dark eyes when he heard the assignment. It was the pure excitement of a researcher encountering a challenge, which, though momentary, Lin Yanqing clearly captured through their contract.

He could almost immediately guess that Snape would never settle for brewing ordinary Boil-Cure Potions or Tonics. He would undoubtedly choose a complex, obscure, or even somewhat dangerous potion.

Indeed, over the following days, Lin Yanqing could continuously sense Snape's state of prolonged, intense concentration, along with occasional subtle frustration when his deductions hit a bottleneck. Snape seemed to be consulting a vast amount of information, often found lurking around the edges of the Restricted Section in the library, with increasingly thick and abstruce tomes piled before him.

One evening, while Lin Yanqing was researching ancient protective magic in a secluded corner of the library, he happened to catch a glimpse of Snape staring at a thick, heavy volume with a bizarre dark red cover, his brow furrowed. Snape's fingers tapped unconsciously on the table, and an aura of profound confusion emanated from him.

Almost simultaneously, a clear fragment of thought regarding the difficulty of preserving the spores of a rare fungus that bloomed under moonlight was transmitted through their contract. Snape had encountered a technical bottleneck; the potion he was researching seemed to require an extremely delicate and difficult-to-handle magical fungal spore.

Lin Yanqing's heart stirred. He recalled seeing relevant records when he had previously flipped through a notebook on the distribution of rare magical plants. It mentioned that pre-treatment with a solution mixed with unicorn hair ash and morning dew could significantly stabilize the activity of such spores.

This was an opportunity to offer information. However, after the incident with the note in the History of Magic class, he knew that directly providing the answer would only provoke a stronger backlash. Snape needed "inspiration," not "charity."

He pondered for a moment, not writing down the specific recipe. Instead, he walked to the section containing books on magical creatures and found the slightly worn copy of the Compendium of Rare Magical Fungi and Preliminary Studies of Their Properties. He flipped to the page detailing the moonlight-dwelling fungus. Without making any marks, he simply left the book open on an empty bookshelf near Snape's usual seat, conspicuous but not overly deliberate.

Then, he left with his own book.

The next day, when Lin Yanqing returned to the library, he found that the Compendium of Rare Magical Fungi was gone. Through their contract, he could feel that Snape's confusion had dissipated, replaced by a state of focused and engrossed research after a sudden realization. He could even faintly sense a trace of a very weak, almost satisfied emotional fluctuation.

He had found the answer. And he didn't feel offended by "being helped" because, this time, he had "discovered" the solution himself.

The Christmas holidays officially began, and the castle instantly emptied, leaving only a few dozen students. Silence replaced the usual clamor, and even the portraits in the corridors seemed to be dozing.

In this tranquil atmosphere, the silent "collaboration" between Lin Yanqing and Snape seemed to become even smoother. Snape was clearly engrossed in his complex potion-making, and Lin Yanqing could often sense the fatigue from prolonged magical manipulation emanating from his end, along with brief, genuine moments of excitement after successfully overcoming a small step.

However, beneath the calm, currents were stirring.

Late at night, two days before Christmas, Lin Yanqing was awakened by the System Cub's urgent alarm in his mind.

"Warning! Detected drastic instability in bound target's magic power output! Accompanied by slight mental resistance! (;?Д?i|!)"

Lin Yanqing woke instantly, his heart tightening. He immediately focused his mind to sense the other end of their contract. As expected, Snape's magic power was like boiling water, fluctuating violently, mixed with a trace of painful resistance, as if he were forcibly suppressing something, or perhaps resisting some backlash from the potion itself?

What potion was he brewing?

There was no time for hesitation. Lin Yanqing immediately sat up in bed, attempting to channel the "absolute calm" and "emotional detachment" he achieved during deep meditation through the contract's link, stably and continuously. This was not an attempt to soothe, but to provide a pure "mental anchor" to help the other party combat internal chaos.

He could feel an intense rejection from Snape's side at first, an attempt to refuse this external intervention. But the runaway magic seemed to exceed his individual control. After a stalemate of over ten seconds, the rejection gradually weakened. Snape seemed to have compromised, passively, perhaps even unconsciously, drawing in the cold "sense of order" that Lin Yanqing was transmitting.

The chaotic magic, restrained by an invisible dam, began to slowly and arduously return to control.

The entire process lasted nearly half an hour. When Snape's magic finally stabilized completely, Lin Yanqing also felt a sense of mental exhaustion, as if he had just participated in a fierce tug-of-war.

From the other end of the contract came a profound weariness and a silence akin to surviving a near-death experience. There was no thanks, no communication.

But the next day, Lin Yanqing found a small crystal vial at his dormitory door. Inside was a few ounces of potion that shimmered with a soft silver glow, like liquid moonlight. Pressed to the bottom was a tiny, thin slip of paper with only two words, their ink slightly smudged as if from forceful writing:

"Calming. Topical."

Lin Yanqing picked up the crystal vial, feeling the powerful yet gentle calming magic contained within. This was clearly the finished product of Snape's risky brewing the previous night, perhaps a highly effective mental tranquilizer or a potion to treat magical burns.

He didn't say "Thank you for your help," nor did he explain the potion's specific purpose.

He simply shared a portion of his hard work—perhaps the most valuable "item" he could offer. In this way, he completed another cold "settlement," and... perhaps, it was also a silent promise? Indicating that he hadn't brewed this potion entirely for himself.

Lin Yanqing carefully put away the small crystal vial.

He knew that the significance of this vial of potion far surpassed the Mistletoe Berries or the counter-curse notes from before. It was, after a collaboration on the brink of life and death, the closest thing to "acknowledgment" he could receive from Severus Snape.

The Christmas bells were about to ring, and Hogwarts slept in the snow. And in some corner of the castle, two youths bound by fate were, in their unique ways, quietly weaving a stronger connection beneath the ice.