Quiet Bonds and Unspoken Gratitude
That evening, Lucien and the group entered the Great Hall together, the usual buzz of Hogwarts swelling around them. One by one, everyone drifted toward their respective tables.
Lucien settled naturally at the Hufflepuff table, with Akeno, Tonks, and Susan beside him. Dinner passed comfortably—light conversation, shared laughter, and Cedric joining them to talk about classes and Quidditch. It felt… normal. Grounding.
Afterward, Lucien returned to his dormitory.
With a soft pulse of magic, he summoned Angelina.
She appeared moments later, startled only for an instant before relief crossed her face. Lucien pulled her into his arms, and without many words, they lay down together. Wrapped in warmth and quiet affection, both drifted into peaceful sleep.
Morning Whispers
Lucien woke first.
He brushed a gentle kiss across Angelina's forehead, and she stirred, blinking sleepily.
"Good morning, my love," Lucien whispered.
Angelina smiled, kissed him back, and for a moment, the world outside didn't exist.
Soon after, Lucien carefully sent her back to the Gryffindor dormitory, unseen, unnoticed.
He freshened up and headed to breakfast, the day resuming its familiar rhythm. Classes followed one after another—charms, transfiguration, theory—until finally, Potions.
A Different Kind of Conversation
When the class ended, Lucien stayed behind.
Snape noticed immediately.
"Yes?" Snape asked.
There was no sarcasm. No venom. Only a calm, measured tone—almost gentle to anyone who might have overheard.
Lucien met his gaze.
"Professor… do you know anyone with exceptional knowledge in potions? Graduates of Hogwarts. Or experts outside."
Snape narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Why?"
Lucien answered honestly.
"I'm planning to expand the Lionhardt Stores. I want to hire skilled potion brewers—people who truly understand the craft."
Snape was silent for a moment.
"Give me time," he said at last. "I'll prepare a list."
Lucien nodded.
"Thank you, Professor."
Then—unexpectedly—Lucien stepped forward and hugged him.
Snape froze.
Before he could react, a quiet voice echoed in his mind:
Thank you… for protecting me from the shadows all this time.
Snape's breath caught.
Warmth—unfamiliar, long-forgotten—spread through his chest.
"…It is my duty," Snape replied quietly. "To protect you."
Lucien nodded once more and left the classroom.
A Professor's Reflection
Alone in the potions room, Snape stood still for a long time.
He replayed the moment.
The words.
The gratitude.
The child he had protected without acknowledgment—without thanks—had known. Had understood.
For the first time in many years, Severus Snape smiled.
Perhaps staying at Hogwarts had been worth it after all.
His mind turned toward names.
Former students.
Talented brewers.
People who deserved another chance.
And somewhere deep inside, a wound that had never healed felt just a little lighter.