January's cold wind was still biting as the Hogwarts Express roared back with students returning from the holiday, and the castle was once again filled with clamor. The quiet, almost isolated understanding of the break had to face the disturbances of reality once more with the return of the crowds.
Snape almost immediately put his heavy suit of defensive armor back on. In the Great Hall, in the corridors, he became gloomy and solitary again, responding to every gaze cast his way with cold disregard. He especially acted as though Lin Yanqing did not exist. It was as if the person who had shared research results in the library during the Christmas break, even stiffly reminding the other to "use it sparingly" when it came to potions, had only been an unreal phantom.
But through the contract, Lin Yanqing could sense that something beneath that armor had changed. Beneath that cold, stagnant water was an almost imperceptible hint of certainty. Snape was no longer as purely and constantly agitated by the bond's very existence as he had been before. He seemed... to have accepted its continued operation, as though he accepted breathing, even if he still hated it.
In the first Potions class of the new term, Professor Slughorn, rosy-cheeked with excitement, asked the students to display the results of their holiday studies. Most of them presented common potions in different colors and varying degrees of purity. When it was Snape's turn, he silently stepped forward and placed the little crystal vial before Slughorn.
"Merlin!" Slughorn pulled out the stopper and merely took a light sniff before his plump face showed extreme shock and delight. "That sheen! That purity! A flawless Moonlight Calming Potion! Severus, my boy! This is simply... simply the work of a master! Fifty points to Slytherin! No, a hundred!"
The classroom erupted. The Moonlight Calming Potion was a complex potion that few could brew perfectly even at NEWTs level! The smug smile on James Potter's face froze, and Sirius Black lost his careless expression as his eyes turned grave. Lily Evans, meanwhile, showed nothing but surprise and admiration.
Faced with everyone's attention, Snape showed no expression at all. He merely gave a slight nod, as though such a world-shaking achievement had nothing to do with him. Yet Lin Yanqing could catch a faint ripple of accomplishment spreading deep within him, though Snape quickly suppressed it.
However, the successful display also brought new trouble. Slughorn's favor toward Snape became impossible to conceal. After class, he even publicly expressed his hope that Snape would consider joining the Slug Club in the future. This drew even more jealous and probing looks, especially from students within Slytherin who came from pure-blood families.
One evening, as Lin Yanqing returned to Ravenclaw Tower from the library, he heard hushed voices in a deserted corridor.
"...He's only a half-blood. He just got lucky," said a rough voice. It was Crabbe.
"Professor Slughorn thinks far too highly of him," Goyle agreed. "And that Ravenclaw... there must be something shameful between them..."
"Shut up!" A cold voice, laden with suppressed anger, cut the two of them off. It was Snape.
Lin Yanqing stopped and hid in the shadow of a pillar. He saw Snape standing before Crabbe and Goyle, his face even paler than usual, cold flames burning in his black eyes. Though he had not drawn his wand, the force radiating from him made the two boys, both much larger than him, instinctively take half a step back.
"My affairs are not for you to discuss." Snape's voice was not loud, but it cracked through the air like a whip. "If I hear anything else... I would not mind letting you find out whether the potions I have developed only have a 'calming' effect."
A flicker of fear crossed Crabbe and Goyle's faces. They muttered a few indistinct words and slunk away.
Snape remained standing there alone, his chest rising and falling slightly. Through the contract, Lin Yanqing could feel the surge within him, a mixture of anger at being offended and a trace of... twisted satisfaction from having defended a certain boundary.
He did not leave at once. Instead, he stood there in silence for several seconds, as though calming himself. Then he suddenly turned his head, his gaze landing precisely on the pillar where Lin Yanqing was hidden.
He said nothing and merely looked in that direction. The corridor was dimly lit, and Lin Yanqing was not sure whether Snape had truly seen him.
But the next moment, Snape raised a hand and, seemingly unconsciously, brushed his fingers ever so lightly over the collar of his black winter robe. Then he turned and strode away.
Lin Yanqing stepped out of the shadows and watched the direction in which Snape had disappeared, understanding dawning in his heart. That touch to his collar had been so slight it was almost impossible to notice, yet it was a clear signal. He was telling him: I know you are here. What I defended just now also included the boundary between "us," one no outsider was allowed to comment on—even if that boundary had been drawn by a contract he despised.
It was a declaration of a cold alliance.
A few days later, in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, the new professor—a wizard who always spoke with a slight tremor and looked somewhat nervous—was explaining how to identify and defend against a common deceptive magical trap. The lesson was rather dull, and many students began to lose focus.
Lin Yanqing noticed that although Snape seemed to be listening attentively, his fingers were unconsciously rubbing his wand beneath the desk. Through the contract came a feeling of... boredom, like this material is too basic, along with a subtle urge to create. He seemed to be devising or improving some spell in his mind.
Just then, the professor asked them to pair up and practice a simple anti-confusion spell. The classroom instantly descended into chaos as everyone began forming groups. James Potter naturally paired with Sirius, while Lily paired with another Gryffindor girl.
Snape still sat alone in the corner, as though the bustle around him had nothing to do with him.
Lin Yanqing did not take the initiative to find a partner either. He stood where he was, his gaze calmly directed toward Snape.
This time, Snape did not immediately look away or give off an air of dismissal. He lifted his eyes, and his black gaze met Lin Yanqing's for a full three seconds. There was no friendliness in those eyes, only an almost scrutinizing calculation.
Then, as the professor began urging the unpaired students to find partners quickly, Snape tilted his head almost imperceptibly toward the empty seat beside him.
It was such a tiny movement that it was nearly nonexistent.
Without any hesitation, Lin Yanqing walked over and sat in the empty seat beside Snape.
Not a single word was exchanged throughout the process. A Slytherin and a Ravenclaw, two students who appeared to have nothing to do with each other, had formed a pair under everyone's watchful eyes.
James Potter immediately shot them an astonished and displeased look. Lily also seemed surprised, though there was more curiosity than anything else in her eyes.
Snape ignored every gaze and merely said coldly to Lin Yanqing, "The core of the spell lies in focusing your will, not the strength of your magic. Begin."
His tone was as if he were stating an objective fact, without the slightest emotion.
"Alright," Lin Yanqing replied just as calmly.
The two raised their wands and began to practice. The spell's light flickered steadily between them. Their coordination could not be called seamless, yet there was no hesitation or mistake. They were like gears in a precision instrument, turning in a cold, efficient rhythm.
Through the contract, Lin Yanqing could feel that what came from Snape was no longer rejection or endurance, but a pure state of concentration when solving a problem. Snape regarded Lin Yanqing as a qualified "practice partner" who would not hold him back, nothing more.
But that was enough.
For Severus Snape, allowing someone to come so close to his field of study and forming a temporary alliance in public was itself a tremendous, silent change.
The ice had not melted, but a clear path had quietly formed across its surface, leading toward a future no one could foresee.
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