In October, the beech leaves at Hogwarts turned golden, and fine ripples spread across the Black Lake in the autumn wind. Third-year classes took on a new depth, especially the newly introduced elective—Care of Magical Creatures.
The class was still taught by Professor Kettleburn, an optimistic man who often made a complete mess of things. For the first lesson in October, he brought out a majestic hippogriff, and the students gathered around it in a circle, excited yet afraid.
"Remember, children!" Professor Kettleburn boomed, his empty sleeve swaying with his movements. "When dealing with a hippogriff, respect is the most important thing! You must look it in the eye and bow. Only if it bows back may you approach! Never insult it!"
Most of the students hesitated. James Potter wore an eager, adventurous expression, but Sirius cautiously held him back. Lily Evans stood near the front, her eyes tense but full of curiosity.
Snape stood at the edge of the crowd with his usual indifferent expression, as though the magical creature before him was no different from an illustration in a textbook. Yet through the contract, Lin Yanqing could catch an extraordinarily subtle state of analysis from him—he was rapidly recalling and verifying the points Professor Kettleburn had explained, assessing the risks and how controllable they were.
"Who would like to try first?" Professor Kettleburn invited enthusiastically.
Silence fell. Then Lin Yanqing sensed an extremely brief, almost instinctive intention to act from Snape—not because he wanted to step forward himself, but because he had anticipated that someone present, most likely Potter, might do something rash, followed by a cold vigilance.
Almost at the same moment that thought came from Snape, James Potter indeed could not hold himself back and stepped forward, his face wearing that signature smile of his, a mixture of confidence and recklessness.
"I will, Professor!"
Before Professor Kettleburn could give him detailed instructions, James had already strode casually toward the hippogriff named Buckbeak. He did not stop properly to bow, merely giving a careless nod, his eyes meeting Buckbeak's directly with even a hint of challenge.
"Potter, wait! Bow!" Professor Kettleburn shouted hurriedly.
But it was already too late.
Buckbeak let out a sharp, warning cry. Its massive wings snapped open, the steel-like feathers whipping up a gust of wind, and its sharp foreclaws rose! James's disrespect had enraged it!
"Watch out!" Lily and several other students cried out.
The smile froze on James's face. He seemed not to have expected the situation to worsen so abruptly. He instinctively backed away, only to nearly trip.
At that critical instant—
Petrificus Totalus!
A calm voice rang out. It did not come from the professor, nor was it aimed at Buckbeak—that would only have enraged it completely. A flash of spell light shot from the side rear of the crowd and struck a raised stone beneath James Potter's feet with perfect precision!
The stone instantly became hard and slick as ice! James, retreating in panic, stepped on it and slipped. His entire body tumbled backward in an utterly undignified, wholly unexpected pose, narrowly avoiding Buckbeak's enraged descending claw!
The claw tore through the air above James's upturned body, ripping only the front of his robe.
Everyone was stunned.
The one who had cast the spell was Severus Snape. He still stood at the edge of the crowd, a faint glow lingering at the tip of his wand. His face remained calm and unruffled, as though that impeccably timed and angled spell had nothing to do with him.
Professor Kettleburn came to his senses and hurried forward to calm the startled Buckbeak, while sternly reprimanding James's recklessness. "Potter! Twenty points from you! You nearly got yourself hurt! Thanks to Snape..." He paused, apparently finding Snape's method rather strange as well, but still added, "...for reacting quickly."
James got to his feet with Sirius and Peter supporting him, his face alternating between red and pale with lingering fear and humiliation. He glared at Snape as though he wanted to devour him alive. He absolutely did not think Snape had saved him. This was clearly meant to make a fool of him in front of everyone! And in this way... a way that looked like it had saved him while actually making him even more humiliated!
Sirius helped James up, his gray eyes turning sharply toward Snape before flicking to Lin Yanqing, who stood not far away. His gaze was deep, impossible to read.
Lily let out a breath of relief. The way she looked at Snape carried complicated gratitude and a trace of confusion.
As for Snape, he responded to every gaze with utter indifference. He put away his wand as though he had merely cleared away an eyesore of a pebble. Yet through the contract, Lin Yanqing clearly caught an exceedingly subtle, almost cruel satisfaction beneath that cold exterior. He had calculated the angle and consequences precisely, avoiding serious injury to Potter—which would have brought considerable trouble—while maximizing his humiliation and displaying his composure and... in a sense, his control before Lily.
It was a perfect counterattack and declaration, one that belonged solely to Severus Snape.
The end-of-class bell rescued the awkward atmosphere. The students dispersed amid lively discussion.
On the way back to the castle, Lin Yanqing and Snape walked one ahead of the other, separated by a distance neither too close nor too far. They did not speak.
But as they passed an empty corner, Snape's steps paused almost imperceptibly. A piece of parchment rolled into a thin tube slipped from his sleeve and fell into the shadows by the wall.
Lin Yanqing naturally bent down as though tying his shoelace and picked up the parchment.
After returning to the Ravenclaw Tower, he unrolled it. It did not mention what had happened in class. There were only several lines of cold handwriting listing rare materials used to stabilize violent magical fluctuations, with precise quantities and processing methods noted beside them. At the end, a small line had been added:
Wolfsbane Potion, basic improvement. Testing required.
Lin Yanqing's pupils contracted slightly as he stared at the words.
Wolfsbane Potion. It was used to ease the pain of a werewolf's transformation. Snape was researching it? For... Remus Lupin, who always inexplicably took leave for a few days every month and returned pale-faced?
He immediately recalled the secret research Snape had been conducting, which he had sensed before—research concerning protective and... targeted magic. Could it be that Snape had long suspected Lupin's identity and was secretly studying methods to deal with—or perhaps ease the suffering of—werewolves?
This was far too dangerous. Not merely because of the risks of the research itself, but because it meant Snape might already have touched upon the Marauders' most central and most dangerous secret.
He carefully put away the parchment. Snape was not asking for help; he was informing him of the next direction for their collaborative research. He had fully drawn Lin Yanqing into this dangerous plan, trusting that he would understand and provide the support required.
Autumn sunlight streamed through the window, casting mottled patches of light across the tabletop. Lin Yanqing could feel that the soul connected to the other end of the contract was immersed in a cold excitement filled with a hunger for challenge and... a warped sense of justice.
He was not merely forging armor. He seemed to be trying to grasp a poisoned double-edged sword that could pierce an enemy's most vital point.
And Lin Yanqing had already become his indispensable, silent accomplice.
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