In the final week of October, Hogwarts was shrouded in a restless atmosphere. Halloween Eve decorations had begun to appear, and the sweet scent of pumpkin pie drifted through the castle, but beneath that surface, several undercurrents were clashing ever more fiercely.
The Marauders' retaliation came faster than expected, and it was far more insidious. They no longer resorted to public humiliation or pranks that could easily leave evidence behind. Instead, they turned to an even more irritating form of persistent harassment—deliberately knocking books from Snape's hands when he passed by alone, then immediately apologizing; discussing certain people's strange habits at just the right volume while he was studying in the library; even sending faint magical interference from nowhere whenever he brewed potions, trying to disrupt his work while always stopping at the precise point where no accusation could be made.
Like the buzzing of mosquitoes and flies, these actions caused no real harm, yet endlessly tested Snape's nerves. Through their contract, Lin Yanqing could clearly sense the increasingly violent aura Snape was forcibly suppressing, like a volcano that could erupt at any moment. Yet Snape's response grew colder and more efficient as well. He seemed to ignore the harassment completely, pouring all his energy into two things: first, completing every course with nearly flawless performance, especially Potions class, using impeccable grades as the loudest possible slap in the face; second, devoting himself fully to the dangerous and complex research of improving the Wolfsbane Potion.
That research required a great deal of private time and an environment entirely free from interruption. Clearly, the common room and ordinary empty classrooms could not meet those requirements.
Three days before Halloween, after Potions class ended, the students gradually left. Lin Yanqing deliberately slowed his packing and remained behind. Snape had long since finished tidying up, yet instead of leaving at once as usual, he stood at his workbench, repeatedly wiping an already gleaming silver knife with a soft cloth.
When only the two of them remained in the classroom, Snape stopped his meaningless movements. He did not look at Lin Yanqing. His gaze rested on a cabinet in the corner filled with discarded equipment, and his voice was so low it was nearly inaudible.
"Seventh Floor, opposite the tapestry of Silly Barnaby being beaten by trolls. We need a... completely soundproof laboratory."
Lin Yanqing's heart stirred. The Room of Requirement. Snape really did know of that place, and now he had decided to use it as the base for their secret research. He was no longer merely conducting his own private studies—he was formally inviting Lin Yanqing into the core of his research.
"Understood," Lin Yanqing replied in an equally low voice, asking no unnecessary questions.
Snape gave an almost imperceptible nod and left the classroom first.
That night, when all was quiet, Lin Yanqing arrived before the tapestry on the Seventh Floor and silently wished for a potions laboratory. When a smooth door appeared, he pushed it open and entered.
The space beyond was somewhat different from what he had imagined. It was not a spacious, brightly lit laboratory, but more like a cramped medieval alchemist's workshop that had been modified for use. The walls were built from rough stone blocks. Several shelves stood against them, filled with strange glass vessels and metal instruments. At the center of the room was a massive stone workbench covered in scratches and unknown stains. Several magical lamps hung from the ceiling, emitting a dim green glow that made the entire room resemble some underground cavern. The air was heavy with the mingled scent of sulfur, dried herbs, and a metallic tang.
Snape was already there. Standing before the workbench, he was adjusting a complicated miniature distillation apparatus composed of crystal tubes and silver coils. The dim green light outlined his focused, cold profile.
He offered no welcome at Lin Yanqing's arrival and did not even raise his head. Instead, in a voice nearly like he was speaking to himself, he rapidly and clearly listed a series of ingredients and handling requirements, as though Lin Yanqing were simply an extension of himself—an assistant whose presence was only natural.
"Moonstone powder, ground under moonlight until reflective. Drowsy Bean juice, extracted at a temperature no higher than forty degrees. And..." He paused, lowering his voice further. "...werewolf hair. Three strands. They must come from one that shed them willingly on the night of a full moon, cut with a silver dagger."
Lin Yanqing memorized everything in silence, without asking where Snape had acquired such rare and dangerous materials. He began searching the shelves for the required vessels and stored ingredients. For a time, the workshop contained only the faint hum of operating instruments, the soft sounds of ingredients being processed, and the cold stream of thoughts passed through their contract—verifying steps and warning of risks.
They worked like two researchers who had cooperated for years, silent and efficient beneath the dim light. Snape handled the central structure and magical guidance, while Lin Yanqing was responsible for precise supporting work and preprocessing the materials. The process was fraught with danger. Once, while adding an extremely active catalyst, the magic within the cauldron nearly went out of control. Lin Yanqing sensed the extreme pressure coming through Snape's end of the contract half a second in advance and promptly handed over the stabilizer he had prepared, preventing a small magical explosion.
After the crisis passed, Snape said nothing. He merely glanced at Lin Yanqing, as though looking at a precision tool that had not failed at a crucial moment. Then he returned to work.
Only when the sky beyond the windows began to pale did the preliminary material processing and preparation of the base solution finally come to an end. Snape carefully sealed several bottles of half-finished potion that shimmered with an ominous glow and hid them in a concealed compartment beneath the workbench.
"Enough." His voice was hoarse with exhaustion. "Before the next full moon, we'll complete the initial fusion."
Lin Yanqing also felt mentally drained. This kind of high-intensity collaboration, fraught with risk, consumed an enormous amount of energy.
The two of them left the Room of Requirement in silence, one after the other. The corridor was empty, and the chill of dawn rushed toward them.
At the fork leading toward different houses, Snape stopped. With his back to Lin Yanqing, he was silent for several seconds. Then something flew backward from his hand in a slight arc.
Lin Yanqing caught it instinctively. It was a small talisman made of black dragonhide, ancient in style and carved with intricate protective runes. At its center was a piece of obsidian that gave off a faint chill. It was cold to the touch and contained considerable protective magic.
"Wear it." Snape's voice remained utterly emotionless. "When we process wolfblood moss next time, its spores will cause mental erosion."
After saying that, he disappeared down the stairs leading to the dungeons without waiting for a response.
Lin Yanqing stood in the empty corridor, holding the talisman that still carried a trace of warmth from Snape's fingertips.
This was not thanks. Nor was it a gift in return.
It was necessary equipment for a co-conspirator. It was protection against known risks in their future work. In this cold manner, Snape confirmed Lin Yanqing's indispensable place in this dangerous plan and accepted the responsibility of providing the appropriate safety measures as the project's leader.
The morning light of Halloween Eve streamed through the stained-glass windows high in the corridor, casting mottled shadows. Lin Yanqing put on the talisman, its cold surface pressed close against his skin.
He knew the territory they were entering was becoming more and more dangerous. Yet the bond connecting them was also growing ever stronger and... more complicated through their shared risks and cold concern.
Halloween at Hogwarts was about to arrive, but for them, the true night of terror might only just have begun.
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