Candy Coatings and Gunsmoke

The atmosphere of the Halloween feast was so lively it could have blown the roof off Hogwarts. Thousands of bats fluttered around the Great Hall, flying between the walls and ceiling, while low-hanging storm clouds swirled among the dining tables, bringing flashes of lightning from jack-o'-lanterns. The long tables were piled high with a dazzling array of food, and the air was filled with the sweet, cloying aroma of roasted pumpkin, treacle tart, and candy.

Laughter and cheers filled the Ravenclaw table, where Lin Yanqing sat. Though his golden plate was piled high with food, he ate little. The emotions from the other end of his contract, like a perpetually taut string, were out of place amidst the surrounding merriment. Snape sat alone at the far end of the Slytherin table, his back ramrod straight, with only a glass of water before him. He seemed to have an invisible barrier around him, shutting out all the noise and revelry. Occasionally, a Slytherin student would try to strike up a conversation, only to be driven back by a single icy glare from him.

Lin Yanqing could sense that this wasn't just his usual gloom, but a focused vigilance, like a predator lurking in the jungle shadows, waiting for an attack that might come at any moment.

As expected, halfway through the feast, when Headmaster Dumbledore stood up and cheerfully announced that everyone could start enjoying the specially prepared, "screaming" skull-shaped pudding, things took a turn.

A deliberately lowered, yet clear enough for nearby tables to hear, scoff came from the Gryffindor table. It was Sirius Black, leaning back lazily in his chair, twirling a golden goblet in his hand, his gaze pointedly flicking towards the end of the Slytherin table.

"I hear some people," his voice wasn't loud amidst the din, but it carried a distinct malice, "only spend Halloween with cauldrons and some... shady things. Quite fitting, isn't it?"

James Potter immediately let out an exaggerated laugh and chimed in, "Exactly! After all, bats and creatures from the gutter love this kind of dark holiday the most."

They didn't name names, but the eyes of all who knew involuntarily turned towards Snape.

Lin Yanqing felt the emotions from the other end of the contract freeze instantly, a sharp anger nearly piercing through the icy facade. He saw Snape's fingers tighten around his water glass, his knuckles turning white, but he didn't look back, not even changing the curve of his shoulders. He only straightened his back further, like a nobleman refusing to yield even as he walked to the guillotine.

This dismissive attitude clearly enraged the Marauders. A flicker of insulted annoyance crossed James's eyes, and his hand, hidden beneath the table, seemed to move ever so slightly.

The next second, the glass of water in front of Snape began to boil, without any warning. Scalding steam hissed, and water splashed out, nearly burning his hand.

A trivial, hard-to-prove, yet highly insulting little hex.

The entire Slytherin table fell silent for a moment, then erupted in a few suppressed, amused snickers. No one stepped forward to speak for Snape.

Snape slowly, very slowly, put down the glass. He still didn't look at the Gryffindor table, but the chill radiating from him caused the few first-year Slytherins closest to him to instinctively shrink back.

At this tense moment, Lin Yanqing stood up, holding his pumpkin juice. He casually walked towards the other end of the Ravenclaw table, as if going to talk to friends. However, as he passed near the staff table, his steps paused almost imperceptibly. His arm seemed to be accidentally bumped by a Hufflepuff student squeezing past, and his full cup of pumpkin juice "accidentally" spilled out, landing directly on the corner of the Invisibility Cloak that James Potter had left peeking out from the edge of the bench.

The deep orange liquid quickly spread across the seemingly empty bench, outlining the shape of a transparent object and dripping onto the floor.

"Oh! Merlin's beard! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!" Lin Yanqing immediately exclaimed in a tone mixed with panic and apology, his voice loud enough to attract the attention of nearby professors and students.

Professor McGonagall frowned and looked over. James and Sirius's faces instantly turned extremely ugly. They clearly hadn't expected their carefully prepared Invisibility Cloak, intended for further pranks, to be exposed in such a way, and covered in sticky pumpkin juice.

Snape remained with his back to it all, but Lin Yanqing clearly felt the icy anger from the other end of the contract, like a small stone dropped into a lake, ripple slightly. The sharp edges seemed to be momentarily smoothed. He made no acknowledgment, not even looking back at the chaotic scene, but the feeling of being utterly alone, almost to the point of being consumed, lessened.

The latter half of the feast passed in a delicate balance. The Marauders, due to the accidental exposure of the Invisibility Cloak and the watchful eyes of the professors, temporarily restrained themselves. Snape maintained his icy demeanor until the end of the feast.

The crowd began to disperse, streaming towards the Great Hall doors. Lin Yanqing blended in with the Ravenclaw students, moving with the flow. As they passed the troll statue in the entrance hall, he felt his sleeve being pulled, quickly and forcefully.

The grip was strong, with an undeniable force, then it released.

Lin Yanqing's steps didn't falter, and he didn't even turn to look for the owner of the hand. Using the crowd as cover, he slightly adjusted his direction, not heading directly back to the Ravenclaw tower, but veering towards another corridor leading to the library.

At a secluded, deserted corridor corner, in the shadows, Snape waited like a frozen statue.

No eye contact, no words.

As Lin Yanqing approached, Snape turned directly and walked forward. Lin Yanqing followed with practiced ease, half a step behind him.

They walked one after the other, silently traversing the quiet castle, and once again arrived before the tapestry on the eighth floor. The Room of Requirement appeared as expected.

Tonight's laboratory was even more cluttered than last time, and more "lived-in." In addition to the dangerous instruments and materials, a small table had been added in the corner, with several ancient books, their pages worn at the edges, lying open. There were also two clean cups.

Snape walked directly to the workbench and began to inspect the potion sealed the previous night. Lin Yanqing, meanwhile, naturally went to the small table and found that one of the cups still contained a small amount of warm, dark brown liquid—black tea. He picked up the cup, feeling the residual warmth against his fingertips, and paused for a moment.

Snape, with his back to him, spoke in a gruff voice, as if explaining or perhaps talking to himself, "To stay alert. Tonight, we need to complete the 'Moonlight Extraction.'"

Lin Yanqing hummed in response, asking no further questions. He put down the cup and went to his auxiliary station, beginning to prepare the materials needed for the night.

Work began again. Silence prevailed, broken only by the sounds of the instruments operating and materials being processed. But the atmosphere was entirely different from last night. Gone was the tentative probing and tension of their first collaboration, replaced by a... near-silent understanding. It was as if the silent confrontation in the Great Hall and the lingering warmth of the tea, whether intentionally left or not, had completed a conversation without words.

They were the only allies on a battlefield filled with smoke. This realization, in the cold laboratory, felt more real than any Halloween candy.

Work was temporarily paused late into the night. As they left the Room of Requirement, Snape walked ahead as usual. At a fork in the corridor, he stopped. This time, he didn't leave immediately. Instead, he turned his head halfway, his profile sharply defined in the dim light of the corridor torches.

"Lupin," he suddenly uttered a name, his voice low and certain, "he's been looking very unwell lately."

Lin Yanqing's heart skipped a beat. Remus Lupin, one of the Marauders, and the one who needed the Wolfsbane Potion. Snape had clearly expanded his observational targets from mere enemies to "cases" directly related to his research. This wasn't just about revenge, but the instinctual drive of a researcher.

"The full moon is approaching," Lin Yanqing responded softly, a simple statement of fact.

The corner of Snape's mouth curled into a smile devoid of warmth, almost cruel.

"Good," he murmured, as if speaking to Lin Yanqing, or perhaps to himself. "The time to test the results is almost here."

With that, he melted back into the shadows of the dungeons.

Lin Yanqing stood in place, savoring Snape's last words. They contained not only academic anticipation but also a cold excitement at the prospect of seizing an opponent's fatal weakness.

The sugary coating of Halloween had long since peeled away. Within the cold stone walls of the castle, the real scent of gunpowder was growing stronger.