HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

In the second half of practice, Kevin was assigned to participate in a simple scrimmage, with his reserve team playing against the regular players.

Kevin plays the chaser, whose task is to break through the defense and throw the Quaffle into the ring.

Although he has good individual skills, he is clearly not familiar with teamwork, and he clashed with his teammates several times during runs or made passing errors.

On one occasion, he attempted a solo breakthrough but was blocked by two opposing players chasing the ball, and his Quaffle was easily intercepted.

The captain yelled from the sidelines, "Walker! Stop trying to do everything yourself! Watch your teammates' positions!"

Kevin blushed and quickly nodded.

Training ended, and all the team members were drenched in sweat. Flint gave a brief summary, specifically criticizing several teamwork errors, including Kevin, but his tone wasn't harsh; it was more like a reminder.

"New guy, listen more, observe more, practice more. Don't be late next Tuesday," Theodore said to Kevin at the end.

"Yes, Captain!" Kevin answered loudly, though he was exhausted, he was full of energy.

On the way back to the castle, Kevin was still excitedly reviewing the details of the training session, how to handle each pass, and which defensive move could have been done better.

The setting sun cast a long shadow over him, and the broom on his shoulder looked like a victory flag.

Ian listened to his rambling, occasionally interjecting a word, and felt happy for his friend.

He glanced at Severus beside him, who remained silent, but showed no impatience. He simply walked quietly, listening to Kevin's energetic voice, his gaze fixed on the distant castle lights that were beginning to appear.

Aris was already discussing with Kevin how to optimize the training plan and improve the success rate of teamwork.

……

Monday was their second Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the school year.

During the first class, Professor Calvin Travers gave a brief self-introduction, outlined the syllabus, and emphasized that "Defense Against the Dark Arts is not just about casting spells, but also about understanding what you are defending against," which sounded more reliable than Professor Wilson from the previous year.

In this lesson, they learned how to apply counter-spells to break and banish curses.

Professor Travers, dressed in a dark robe, delivered a clear and penetrating demonstration that was of impeccable standard.

"For you, mastering the textbook methods is enough. I just want to point out that when facing darkness, there is another perspective besides avoidance and expulsion. A more efficient, and sometimes more... practical, perspective."

He closed the classroom windows, demonstrated another way to expel the red hats, and explained in detail the principles of the spell from the perspectives of "power" and "utility".

Ian frowned; this method resembled black magic.

He glanced at Severus again.

Severus listened intently, his quill moving rapidly across the parchment as he jotted down every key point the professor made, including descriptions of the properties of magical flow that weren't in the textbook.

His profile appeared unusually focused in the candlelight, even with a kind of...burning intensity.

In the latter half of the course, Professor Travers had everyone practice "armor protection" in pairs, which was the focus of this year's defense class.

He patrolled the classroom, occasionally speaking up to correct gestures or pronunciation of spells.

As they approached Severus and Ian, Severus had just successfully deflected a practice "Grinning Woolah" from Ian; the spell struck the invisible barrier, sending sparks flying.

"Your gestures are excellent, Mr. Snape." Professor Carol stopped and looked at Severus, scrutinizing him. "Your mana output is stable, and your barrier forms quickly. You seem to have a good grasp of the principles of defensive spells."

Severus lowered his wand, pursed his lips, and whispered, "Thank you, Professor."

“It’s good that you’re interested.” Professor Travers’ voice was low, only loud enough for the three of them to hear. “True power often lies hidden in the understanding of its opposite. I have some supplementary reading material in my office this weekend evening about ancient protective magic and curse countermeasures… you might find it interesting.”

After he finished speaking, he nodded slightly and walked towards the next group of students.

Severus tightened his grip on his wand, and something flashed quickly in his dark eyes.

Ian's heart sank slightly.

He maintained his composure, and only after Professor Travers had walked a short distance away did he pretend to continue practicing the "armor protection" gestures, while casually saying in a voice only the two of them could hear, "This Professor Travers certainly knows a lot. But..."

He paused, looking into Severus's eyes. "Some things, understanding is one thing, like poisonous potion ingredients. Knowing where the danger lies is to be more careful when handling it, not to eat it like candy, right?"

Severus looked up at him, didn't answer immediately, but remained silent for a few seconds, then nodded almost imperceptibly, raised his wand again, and said, "Continue practicing."

Ian didn't say anything more and cooperated by casting a soft spell.

He knew Severus's character; he had an almost obsessive thirst for knowledge and power, especially the kind of tangible power that could change his circumstances and prove himself.

In the following days, Severus became more silent than usual, often lost in his own thoughts.

He remained accurate and excellent in Potions class, but occasionally he would stare blankly at the rising steam.

In the evenings at the Room of Requirement, he would also open the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, but his gaze would often fall on the edges of the pages, his fingers unconsciously stroking the rough surface of the parchment.

At dinner on Friday, Kevin mumbled as he wolfed down his mashed potatoes, "Do you guys think Professor Travers really cooks special meals for people on weekends? Sounds pretty cool, ancient protective magic, you know."

Aris took a sip of pumpkin juice: "Extracurricular reading itself is fine, but Professor Travers' teaching method tends to vaguely express dangerous knowledge, which makes younger students prone to underestimating the risks."

"Aris, speak like a human being," Kevin muttered.

"Just to warn you to be careful, don't learn everything," Ian said, cutting the sausage on his plate, his gaze seemingly glancing at Severus beside him.

Severus, who was slowly poking at a few peas with his fork, paused when he heard this, but did not look up.

The weekend evening arrived quickly.

Severus went to the library as usual, but returned a little later than usual.

When he returned to his dormitory, he carried a mixed smell of old parchment and some kind of special ink. His face appeared somewhat pale in the dim light, but his eyes were bright, a brightness that came from being immersed in some intense thinking.

He didn't mention where he went, and Ian didn't ask.

Just before he climbed onto the four-poster bed and lowered the curtains, Ian seemed to suddenly remember something, peeked out from his bed, and said to the dark green curtains:

"By the way, Severus, my mother sent some new white succinate essence. It's very pure. Would you like to take some and try it? It might help stabilize your conditioner process."

There was a moment of silence within the curtained chamber, then Severus's low voice came through: "...Okay, thank you."

Ian lay back down, listening to the faint sound of pages turning on the other side of the curtain, and slowly closed his eyes. He knew that Severus understood.