The last golden rays of summer bled across the Scottish Highlands, painting the sky in hues of orange and violet. The air, usually warm and languid, carried a crisp, autumnal bite, a harbinger of the new school year. Echo, his black hair a pensive, deep blue, stood on a secluded hill overlooking Hogsmeade Station. Below, the crimson Hogwarts Express hissed and chuffed, a serpent of steam and iron, disgorging its cargo of students. He watched from a distance as a tide of young witches and wizards spilled onto the platform. Excited first-years, barely taller than his knee, clutched their trunks and chattered with wide-eyed wonder. Older students, already reunited, laughed and embraced, their summer escapades recounted in animated whispers. Echo felt a familiar, bitter grimace tighten his lips. Third year, his third year. Another year of being an outcast.
The memory of the previous year still stung, a festering wound. The public humiliation, the accusations, the cold shoulders from those he once considered friends. And this year, it would be worse. Pip, Sniffles, and Shimmer were his companions, his true family, but they couldn't stand with him in the Great Hall, couldn't deflect the stares and whispers. He was truly alone, politically speaking, within the student body. The thought made his stomach clench, a familiar pang of loneliness.
But then, the words of Salazar Slytherin, spoken in a time long past, echoed in his mind, clear and strong: "To be 'normal' is to be unremarkable. To be remarkable is to embrace what makes you different, what makes you powerful." And, "Those who walk the path of power often walk alone, for their light, or their shadow, is too intense for lesser beings to bear. They fear what they do not understand, and they condemn what they cannot control. Let them. Their opinions are dust. Your potential is eternal."
Echo's blue hair sparked with a fierce, defiant green. He wasn't normal, and he wouldn't try to be. He would embrace his storm. He would forge his own legacy. Their fear was theirs, not his to internalize. His gaze swept over the milling crowd below, hardening slightly. He saw familiar faces, ones that had once held warmth for him. He spotted Lily, her vibrant red hair a beacon in the throng, her head turning slowly as she scanned the platform, clearly searching. For him, he knew. He saw Frank and Amos, too, standing together, their faces a mixture of concern and awkwardness. And then, a glimpse of Severus Snape, already looking surly, his eyes darting around with a familiar intensity.
A fresh wave of anger, sharp and potent, washed over Echo. He wouldn't go to them. Not after what they had done, or rather, what they hadn't done. Not after their abandonment. If they wanted to find him, they could look. He wouldn't offer an olive branch that they didn't deserve. He wouldn't chase after friendships that had proven so fragile.
He still wanted answers, a confrontation, to tear open the wounds and force them to see the truth of their actions. The thought made his chest ache, a raw, exposed nerve. But he wouldn't seek it out, not yet. He would move from his current secluded spot, yes. He would head towards the castle, somewhere they might actually stumble upon him. He would make himself visible, but not available. The ball was in their court now. He had his own path to tread, and if they wished to be a part of it, they would have to step forward, not him. His green hair pulsed with cold, resolute determination. He would wait. And when they found him, if they found him, he would be ready.
Lily, Frank, Amos, and Severus, caught in the throng of students, made their way up the path to Hogwarts, their conversations subdued. The joy of reunion was tempered by the lingering unease of their last encounter with Echo. They had searched the platform, hoping to catch a glimpse of his vibrant hair, but he was nowhere to be seen. A sense of apprehension settled over them as they entered the castle gates.
As they passed through the bustling Entrance Hall and into one of the quieter courtyards, Lily's keen eyes spotted him. Tucked away beside a large, ornate fountain, mostly obscured by a weeping willow, sat Echo. His blue hair was a calm, almost serene turquoise as he gently brushed Shimmer, who preened under his touch, her iridescent scales shimmering in the fading light. Sniffles, the Niffler, was enthusiastically diving in and out of the fountain's clear water, occasionally emerging with a glinting coin clutched in his tiny paws before burying it in a small, growing pile beside Echo. He looked up, his gaze sweeping over them, and the turquoise in his hair flared with a sudden, sharp green. A sardonic smile, devoid of humor, touched his lips.
"Well, well, well," Echo said, his voice cutting through the courtyard's gentle sounds, sharp and edged. "If it isn't the traitors. I'm honestly surprised that you four actually went out of your way to find me. I fully expected you to ignore me the rest of the year."
He paused, his green hair pulsing, his eyes locking onto each of them in turn. "How was your summer break? Mine was... eventful. But that shouldn't be a surprise. What about how much of me I am? And you know what, for once, I'm not sorry for it. If anything, everyone else should be sorry for judging me for simply being me and not the unreachable status quo."
Lily stepped forward, her hand reaching out instinctively. "Echo, we—"
"Don't," Echo cut her off, his voice flat, emotionless, yet radiating a deep, underlying hurt. His green hair flickered with a painful crimson. "Just… don't. I've had this hole in my heart all summer. I thought about my words long and hard, and after crying far too many tears over it, I finally know what to say."
He stood up slowly, Shimmer flying to his shoulder, Sniffles retreating to hide behind his leg, sensing the shift in mood. Echo's eyes, burning with a raw, unleashed emotion, swept over them.
"Do you know what it feels like?" he began, his voice rising, betraying the careful control he had tried to maintain. "To have the people you trusted, the people you thought were your friends, turn their backs on you? To watch them finally believe the lies, the whispers, the accusations, within the span of one night? To be condemned, exiled, for something you can't control, for simply being who you are? For an achievement in magi so great should it constitute celebration and agulation?" His hair exploded into a chaotic maelstrom of angry reds, despairing blacks, and frustrated oranges. "You saw me struggle! You saw me fighting, trying to understand why everyone turned on me so fast. Whether it was because nothing I did was normal, or just because the power I has everyone else fear! And when I needed you most, when I was alone, vulnerable, struggling against the full force of the school's ire, you abandoned me!"
He gestured wildly, his hand sweeping towards the castle. "You stood by, silent! You let the entire school brand me as a dark wizard, a monster, a werido! You let them break me in a single night! And why? Because it was easier? Because you were scared? Because you couldn't be bothered to look past the whispers and see the person beneath them?" His voice cracked, thick with the weight of his betrayal. "I never asked for this magic! I never asked to be born the way I was! But it's a part of me, just as much as my heart, my soul! And if you can't accept that, if you can't look at me and see past the fear to the person who would have stood by you, no matter what, then you were never truly my friends to begin with!" He finished, chest heaving, his hair slowly settling into a tormented, deep purple.
Lily, tears welling in her eyes, finally managed to speak. "Echo, we know we hurt you, and we're so, so sorry. But we… we had a reason."
Echo's head snapped up, his purple hair flaring with a sudden, dangerous crimson. He repeated the last word, his voice low and venomous. "A reason? It had better be a damn good reason."
Lily swallowed, her gaze pleading. "Echo, please, try to understand. We weren't trying to abandon you. We were… we were doing damage control."
Echo froze, his crimson hair flickering to a bewildered blue. Slowly, he repeated the words, "Damage control? What?"
Frank stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Lily's shoulder. His voice was strained, thick with the memory of that night. "When we heard Professor Flitwick rightfully grant you those house points for your creation of Beast Magic and win the House Cup for Slytherin… we immediately knew what would happen."
Amos nodded, his face grim. "Everyone would draw even more suspicion and hatred toward you. You already had a damaged reputation thanks to Lucius and the rumors he spread, and what with you attracting chaos so easily, it didn't help. We saw what happened when you, the school's failure, got perfect marks. This was ten times worse."
Lily finally regained her composure, though her eyes were still brimming. "We were trying to make sure no one would do anything to you, Echo. To make sure you didn't become a target for something far worse than whispers. And it… It sorta worked. No one acted overtly against you for the rest of the year, did they?"
Echo stared at them, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions raging within him. He wanted to call their bluff, to dismiss it as another excuse, another betrayal. But then, a cold, undeniable presence stirred within him. The dark beast, usually so quick to mirror his rage, was silent, a strange sense of resignation emanating from it. It was telling him there was no lie in any of them. No deception.
"Why?" Echo asked, his voice barely a whisper, the fight draining out of him. His blue hair settled into a confused, aching grey. "Why didn't you just tell me? Not just… get up and leave during the feast?"
Lily took a shaky breath. "We wanted to, Echo, truly. But we knew how fast things would spiral. We had to act fast before things got really bad, before someone tried something before the end of the year. We thought… we thought if we distanced ourselves, they'd leave you alone. We're sorry for not telling you."
Echo stared at them, the truth of their words settling in his gut, a bitter, yet undeniably real, realization. His grey hair flickered with a desperate need for confirmation. "You… you really did that? For me?" he whispered, the raw vulnerability in his voice a stark contrast to his earlier defiance. "You did all that just… to protect me?"
Lily nodded, tears now openly streaming down her face. "Always, Echo. Always. You're our friend. You always have been. You always will be."
A fresh wave of emotion, hot and overwhelming, surged through Echo. He felt his carefully constructed anger, his righteous indignation, crumble into dust. His grey hair began to swirl with a chaotic mix of blues and greens, reflecting the turmoil within. He opened his mouth, a choked sob catching in his throat. "I… I thought…" he started, but the words wouldn't come. His chin trembled, his vision blurred, and then, he began to bawl, uncontrollably, the sound raw and broken, years of bottled-up pain and betrayal finally unleashed.
Lily didn't hesitate. With a sob of her own, she threw herself into Echo, wrapping her arms tightly around him, burying her face in his shoulder. Frank and Amos, their eyes shining with tears, moved in, their arms encircling both of them in a silent, comforting embrace. Severus, standing a few feet back, his face a mask of complex emotions, merely watched, his gaze fixed on the tableau of raw, honest grief.
"I'm so s-sorry," Echo choked out between gasps, his voice muffled against Lily's hair, his body shaking with the force of his sobs. "I'm so, so sorry, all of you."
Lily pulled back slightly, enough to look him in the eye, her own face streaked with tears. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Echo," she whispered fiercely, gripping his arms. "Nothing."
"But I do!" Echo cried, his voice breaking again. "I spent the whole summer cursing your names! Hating you! For something you didn't even do! I thought… I thought you abandoned me!"
Amos tightened his arm around Echo's shoulders. "It's not your fault, mate. It's ours. We should've sent an owl. Explained everything."
Echo shook his head violently, fresh tears streaming down his face. "No! No, I'm glad you didn't! I… I would've burned it! Before I even read it!"
Frank let out a watery chuckle, tears in his own eyes. "Yeah, that's fair, actually."
Severus, meanwhile, remained stiff, a statue of discomfort a few feet away. His dark eyes darted nervously between the sobbing group and the surrounding courtyard, clearly wishing the flagstones would swallow him whole.
"Severus!" Lily suddenly exclaimed, pulling back from Echo long enough to glare at him through her tears. "Get in here, already!"
With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand potions' ingredients, Severus reluctantly shuffled forward. He awkwardly wrapped his long, thin arms around the huddle, stiffly patting Lily's back with one hand. As he did so, his gaze flickered to Echo, whose eyes, still red-rimmed and streaked with tears, held a brief, sharp flash of pure vitriol. Severus visibly shuddered, his already pale face paling further, but he held his ground.
Eventually, their raw emotions spent, the sobs subsided into sniffles and shaky breaths. Echo, pulling back from the embrace, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his blue-and-green hair slowly calming into a gentler, more settled blue.
"I… I'm glad you didn't actually abandon me," Echo said, his voice still hoarse. He looked at each of them, a fresh wave of vulnerability washing over his face. "I honestly don't know what I would have done. I think… I think I might've spiraled to somewhere really scary."
A shared silence fell, heavy with the unspoken understanding of how close they had come to a deeper, more irreparable rift. After a moment, a collective breath seemed to be taken.
Echo pushed himself fully to his feet, adjusting his robes. "I've… I've gotta go," he said, his voice still a little wobbly but firming with purpose. "There's… someone else I have to go apologize to."
He gave them a quick, tight nod, then turned and walked away, Shimmer perched on his shoulder and Sniffles, a small, black shadow at his heels. He moved with a new sense of urgency, heading directly for the castle, leaving his friends to process the raw, emotional reunion. Echo, with Shimmer still on his shoulder and Sniffles tucked securely in his pocket, made his way through the familiar corridors, his steps echoing slightly in the quiet evening. He stopped outside the Charms classroom, his blue hair flickering with nervous yellow. He took a deep, steadying breath, then pushed open the door.
Professor Flitwick, a tiny, effervescent wizard, was perched on a stack of books behind his desk, diligently grading essays with a flourish of his wand. He looked up, his bright eyes widening in surprise.
"Mr. Echo!" Professor Flitwick squeaked, his voice surprisingly robust. "To what do I owe the pleasure? The term has barely begun, and you're already seeking extra credit?" He gave a small, encouraging smile.
Echo shuffled his feet, his gaze darting around the room, avoiding eye contact. "Professor Flitwick, sir," he stammered, his voice a little shaky. Could… Can I speak with you for a moment? It's important. And a bit… personal."
Professor Flitwick, sensing the gravity in Echo's voice, carefully set his quill down. He hopped off the stack of books, his small frame radiating concern. "Of course, Mr. Echo. Come, sit down." He gestured to a small, comfortable armchair near a bubbling cauldron that always seemed to be simmering gently in his classroom. "What troubles you, my boy?"
Echo sank into the armchair, his nervous yellow hair dimming to a remorseful grey. He wrung his hands, unable to meet the Professor's gaze. "Professor… sir… I… I came to apologize." His voice was barely a whisper.
Flitwick's bright eyes softened. "Apologize? Whatever for, Mr. Echo?"
"For… for what I said to you," Echo choked out, the memory of his angry outburst at the end of the last school year flooding back, raw and painful. His grey hair began to swirl with a chaotic mix of red and black. "At the end of the year, after the feast. I… I yelled at you. I blamed you for… for everything that happened. For everyone who turns their back on me. And I… I told you I hated you." His voice cracked, and a fresh wave of tears welled in his eyes. "It wasn't true, Professor. None of it. I was just so angry, and so scared, and so… so alone. I didn't mean any of it."
He buried his face in his hands, his body shaking with renewed sobs. "I'm so sorry, Professor. I truly am. I know you were just trying to be fair. You were just trying to give me credit for my magic, for… for Beast Magic. And I… I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You didn't deserve that."
Professor Flitwick, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears, quickly moved to Echo's side. He placed a tiny, comforting hand on Echo's shoulder and patted it gently. "Oh, my dear boy," he squeaked, his voice thick with genuine sorrow. "There is no need for you to apologize, Mr. Echo. None at all. In fact, it is I who should be apologizing to you."
Echo looked up, his tear-streaked face bewildered, his red-and-black hair swirling into a confused, aching blue. "You, Professor? Why?"
Flitwick sighed, a sound filled with regret. "Because I did not think, Mr. Echo. I was so focused on ensuring you received the recognition you so rightfully deserved, after all your hard work and innovation, that I failed to consider the… the repercussions. I should have been more careful. I should have anticipated the reactions of others, particularly those who are, regrettably, less open-minded and more prone to… to fear what they do not understand."
He squeezed Echo's shoulder gently. "I just wanted you to be given the credit, the honor that you had earned, Mr. Echo. To acknowledge your unique and powerful contribution to our magical world. I never meant for it to cause you such pain. I never meant for you to feel abandoned."
Echo, still crying, shook his head vehemently. "But I know that, Professor!" he sobbed, his voice muffled. "I know you were just trying to be nice! You were just trying to be fair! And I know you didn't… didn't know things would get so bad! You couldn't have known!" He looked at Flitwick, his eyes pleading for understanding through his tears. "It's not your fault, Professor. It's mine for getting so angry. I should have known better."
Professor Flitwick shook his head, his small face earnest. "No, Mr. Echo. The blame lies with those who choose ignorance over understanding, fear over empathy. You were a child, hurt and confused. Your anger was a natural, albeit misdirected, response to profound pain. I, as your Professor, should have shielded you more effectively. I am truly sorry for my oversight, and for any part I played in your suffering."
Echo wiped his nose with his sleeve, a fresh wave of tears still clinging to his lashes. "But… but you didn't abandon me, Professor," he whispered, the raw honesty in his voice touching a chord deep within the older wizard. "You were the only one who didn't. You… you stood by me. And I repaid you by yelling at you."
Professor Flitwick smiled sadly, his grip on Echo's shoulder tightening. "And I understood why, my boy. I understood. And I forgive you, wholeheartedly."
Echo stared at him, fresh tears welling in his eyes. He didn't know what to say. He had come here, steeling himself for another apology, for begging for forgiveness, for facing the uncomfortable truth of his own outburst. Instead, he was being offered understanding, empathy, and forgiveness without even asking. It was almost too much to bear.
"Thank you, Professor," Echo finally managed, his voice thick with emotion. His blue hair, which had been a chaotic mix of remorse and confusion, slowly settled into a serene, hopeful turquoise. "Thank you so much."
Professor Flitwick nodded, a gentle smile on his small face. "Now, Mr. Echo," he chirped, his usual cheerfulness returning, though still tinged with warmth, "perhaps we can put this unpleasantness behind us and look forward? The new term has just begun, and I confess, I am quite eager to see what new marvels you might conjure with your unique talents. Perhaps a new variant of that magnificent Beast Magic?"
Echo, a genuine, unburdened smile finally gracing his lips, felt a lightness he hadn't experienced in months. "Perhaps, Professor. Perhaps." He stood up, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "I should… I should go, sir. I don't want to keep you from setting up for the new year."
"Nonsense, Mr. Echo," Flitwick waved a dismissive hand. "These lesson plans can wait. Knowing that one of my most promising students has found peace is far more important than a few misplaced commas. But do take care, my boy. And remember, my door is always open. For anything."
Echo nodded, his heart full. "I will, Professor. Thank you." He turned and walked out of the classroom, a profound sense of healing settling over him. The bitterness had faded, replaced by gratitude and a renewed sense of connection. He still had challenges ahead, but he wouldn't face them alone. He had friends who understood, and a professor who saw his potential, not just his problems. He still had one more person to talk to, or rather, confront for their sins.
Later that evening, in the low-lit, emerald-and-silver depths of the Slytherin common room, Severus Snape meticulously unpacked his clothing into his shared dorm with Echo. He carefully folded a set of pristine black robes and placed them in his designated drawer when a voice, strangely ethereal and chillingly resonant, seemed to whisper from the shadows.
"Severus…"
Severus froze, his hands stilling mid-fold. He spun around, his dark eyes darting nervously into the dimly lit corners of the room. "Who's there?" he hissed, a faint tremor in his voice. "Show yourself!"
"I know what you did…" the voice echoed again, closer this time, seeming to emanate from just behind him, then from across the room, then from the very walls themselves. "I know what you did… I know what you did… I know what you did…"
Severus's heart hammered against his ribs. He turned again, his gaze frantically searching, but saw nothing. The air grew cold, and a prickle of dread ran down his spine. He was about to demand an answer again when, in the blink of an eye, a figure flickered into existence in front of him, then vanished, only to reappear by the bedside table, shimmering like a startled Demiguise or a malevolent ghost. It was Echo, his blue hair furious and pulsing crimson, his eyes blazing with an unsettling intensity.
Severus gasped, stumbling back, nearly tripping over his own trunk. "Echo! What in Merlin's name—"
Before he could finish, Echo materialized directly behind him, a low, feral growl rumbling in his chest. Severus nearly screamed, a choked sound caught in his throat, as Echo launched himself forward, tackling him to the ground with unexpected force. Severus hit the flagstones with a painful thud, the air knocked from his lungs. Before he could recover, Echo was on him, straddling his chest, raining down furious, relentless blows. Severus cried out, trying to shield his face, but Echo's fists connected with sickening thuds.
"I know what you did!" Echo roared, each punch punctuated by his fury. "I know everything!"
Severus struggled, trying to push Echo off, his pale face contorted in pain and confusion. "What?! What are you talking about?! What did I do?!"
Echo paused, his arm pulled back for another strike, his crimson hair a chaotic inferno. His eyes narrowed, burning into Severus's. The sheer audacity of the question, the feigned ignorance, ignited a fresh surge of rage. With a guttural snarl, Echo grabbed Severus by his rather prominent nose, yanking his head upwards until their faces were inches apart.
"Oh, you know what I mean, Severus," Echo snarled, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "Just because I smile and laugh and joke and act like a chaotic goofball doesn't mean I'm an airhead. Lucius Malfoy… he found the Pensieve. The one full of memories to expose him. He found it… and he broke it. Months and months of hard work, all down the drain. My failure so broke me up, so devastated, that I never decided to wonder how he found out."
Severus's face, already pale, took on a distinctly nervous, almost green tinge. His eyes darted away from Echo's furious gaze, a clear sign of guilt.
"Oh yes," Echo continued, his voice dripping with venom, twisting Severus's nose painfully. "You do know what I mean. So few people knew about the Pensieve's existence, and even fewer knew exactly where it was and how to find it. Those people, Severus, were you… and me."
Echo's grip tightened, his voice rising to a furious shout that echoed in the quiet dorm. "You were the one who told Lucius about the Pensieve, weren't you?! Admit it, Severus! ADMIT IT!"
Severus's lips trembled, his eyes wide with fear, but he remained silent, utterly terrified. Echo's fist, still raised, began to tremble with unspent fury. Just as it looked like he would strike again, Severus finally choked out a shaky confession.
"Yes!" he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. "Yes, I did! But there was a reason, Echo! There was a reason!"
Echo, still straddling Severus, let out a low, guttural growl, his crimson hair flaring with renewed intensity. He leaned in, his grip still painfully tight on Severus's nose, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Oh, it had better be a damn good reason, Severus. A bloody good reason, or I swear to Merlin, I'll beat you so badly Lily won't recognize you! Now, speak!"
Severus, tears streaming from his eyes, choked out, "Lucius… Lucius was getting suspicious of me, Echo! He thought I was only close to you to get inside information, to spy for him and the Dark Lord. But… but lately, he said it was starting to look like my loyalties lay elsewhere! If he told the Dark Lord about that, the jig would be up! I'd be found out! I… I had to tell him not to raise any alarms!"
Echo stared at him, his eyes wide with a horrifying mix of disbelief and fury. "So you decided to… to sell me out?" he roared, shoving Severus's head back against the flagstones.
"I didn't have any other way!" Severus gasped, desperately trying to protect himself from the imminent blow.
"'Any other way'?" Echo repeated, his voice laced with venom, as if the words were foreign, disgusting things in his mouth. His crimson hair pulsed, almost vibrating with suppressed rage. "We could've done something else, Severus! We could've set something up that wouldn't have drawn suspicion to you and kept the Pensieve safe! You just… You just panicked and threw me to the wolves!" He raised his fist again, but this time, he didn't strike. His hand hovered in the air, trembling. "I could have cleared my name, Severus!" Echo cried, his voice cracking with the sheer emotional toll. His crimson hair flickered, fading to a desperate, pain-filled blue. "We could have put one of the Dark Lord's minions behind bars! I could have stopped being so hated by everyone! Do you really think I can take being despised by everyone until I graduate in four years? Four years! That is a long time, Severus! And soon, all of my friends will have long since graduated by then!"
A punch punctuated each word, but the force behind them diminished with every syllable. The furious blows softened to frustrated shoves, then to weak, almost pathetic taps. Echo's eyes, still burning, now brimmed with unshed tears, blurring his vision. His voice, hoarse from shouting, dissolved into choked sobs, his body shaking uncontrollably. He was still hitting Severus, but it was nothing more than a desperate, rhythmic tapping, mirroring the frantic beat of his own breaking heart. Severus, bruised and battered, lay beneath him, wincing with each weak strike. He watched Echo's breakdown, a profound, unreadable sadness settling in his dark eyes. He could feel the boy's raw pain, the depths of his betrayal. When Echo's taps became almost imperceptible, his sobs wracking his entire frame, Severus finally spoke, his voice low and strained.
"Echo… there are bigger forces at play than Lucius, you fool," Severus whispered, his gaze distant, haunted. "Getting rid of him… it would only help you and your little vendetta. But it would do nothing else in the long run. There are… There are powers you cannot even comprehend, such as the Echo. Powers that make Lucius Malfoy look like a petty schoolyard bully."
Echo, barely tapping him now, his face buried in his hands, looked up, his eyes swollen and red. His blue hair was a swirling, tormented mix of grey and black. "Were we weriends, Severus?" he choked out between gasps, the question ragged and torn from the deepest part of his soul. After all this… were we ever really friends at all?"
Severus could only close his eyes, a single, unbidden tear escaping to trace a path through the grime and faint bruises on his cheek. "I'm sorry, Echo," he whispered, his voice thick with a profound, aching regret. "Truly sorry. If there were another way, I would've done it."
Echo finally broke. The rhythmic taps on Severus's chest became frantic, then ceased entirely as a heart-wrenching wail tore from his throat. He collapsed onto Severus, his body wracked with shuddering sobs, his hands clenching at Severus's robes.
Severus, still bruised and shaken, slowly, hesitantly, reached up. His fingers, trembling slightly, ran through Echo's chaotic, despairing black-and-grey hair, a gesture of unexpected comfort. He stroked it gently, murmuring soft, indistinct words, letting Echo cry until the storm within him began to subside.
Eventually, the sobs dwindled to quiet whimpers, and Echo slowly pushed himself up, wiping his tear-streaked face with the back of his hand. His hair, a defeated, empty grey, had settled into a pained, but calmer, deep blue. He slid off Severus, moving stiffly to sit on the edge of his own bed, his shoulders still heaving with residual emotion. Severus, with a weary groan, sat up, rubbing his chest, then moved to his own bed, keeping a respectful distance.
A soft thump broke the silence. Shimmer, his ethereal form glowing with concern, landed lightly on Severus's bed. He held a small, corked vial filled with a shimmering, amber liquid and extended it towards him with a delicate, translucent hand.
"Drink this, Severus," Echo said, his voice raw and hoarse, gesturing from his bed. "It's a healing potion. I brewed it myself."
Severus took the vial, his gaze flickering from Shimmer to Echo, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He uncorked it, the sweet, earthy scent wafting through the air, and downed half of the potion in one gulp. He visibly winced, then let out a soft sigh, a faint flush of color returning to his pale cheeks.
"Better?" Echo asked, his brow furrowing with concern as he peered at Severus's still-bruised face.
"Much," Severus rasped, his voice a little stronger. "My head feels clearer, and the ache in my ribs is easing."
Echo slid off his bed, walking over to Severus. "But… It's not working on your face," he said, his blue hair flickering with confusion. "All the bruising is still there. Is that potion old? I just brewed it a few days ago; it should be top quality."
Severus averted his gaze, a subtle tension in his posture. "No, no, it's fine, Echo. Just… taking a moment to work, I suppose. These things aren't instantaneous."
"I brewed that potion myself, Severus," Echo said, his voice sharpening slightly, his blue hair darkening to an insistent indigo. "I know exactly how fast it should act on superficial injuries like those. What aren't you telling me?" He reached out, his hand gently touching Severus's back, intending to check for other bruises.
A sharp, involuntary gasp of pain escaped Severus's lips. He flinched away, a profound shock passing through his body, and stumbled backwards, hitting the wall. He instantly clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide with alarm.
Echo pulled his hand back as if burned, his indigo hair flaring with alarm and a cold, dawning dread. "What was that?" he demanded, his voice suddenly sharp.
Severus shook his head, his eyes darting frantically towards the door. "Nothing! It was nothing, I just… startled." He tried to sidle past Echo, his movements stiff and unnatural.
"Nothing doesn't sound like that," Echo insisted, stepping in front of him. "What are you hiding?"
"Nothing, Echo! Just leave it be!" Severus snapped, trying to push past him again, his face a mask of desperation.
"Severus Tobias Snape!" Echo's voice cracked like a whip, laced with a chilling authority. Shimmer, sensing the shift, solidified slightly and grabbed a corner of Severus's robe, holding him in place. "You are not going anywhere!"
Severus struggled harder, pulling against Shimmer's surprisingly strong grip, his eyes wide with a desperate, almost primal fear. He tried to rip his robe free, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Aresto Momentum!" Echo roared, pointing his gnarled wand at Severus. The spell, raw and unrefined, slammed into Severus, freezing him mid-struggle. He stiffened, unable to move, his eyes still wide with terror.
With a grunt, Echo shoved the now-motionless Severus onto his bed. With a surge of controlled frustration, he yanked Severus's robes and shirt down, exposing his back. Echo gasped, a horrifying sound catching in his throat. His indigo hair flared into a chaotic, horrified white. A marked landscape of injuries covered every inch of Severus's back – angry red welts, dark purple bruises blooming across his pale skin, thin, jagged cuts, and even some older, faded scars that spoke of past torments. It was a canvas of pain, a testament to systematic, brutal abuse.
Even Shimmer, his ethereal form flickering with visible shock, released Severus's robe and hopped onto one of the adjacent beds; a stunned, almost horrified dimness replaced his normally serene glow. Echo stumbled back, his eyes fixed on the horrific sight, a cold knot of dread tightening in his stomach.
Severus, still frozen by the spell, blinked, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and something akin to shame. The moment Echo released the Aresto Momentum with a sharp flick of his wand and a guttural, "Finite Incantatem!", Severus convulsed, immediately trying to pull his robes back up, desperate to cover the horrific canvas of his back.
Echo, his white hair slowly simmering into a furious, horrified red, took a step forward, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "Severus! Who did this to you? What in Merlin's name did that to you?"
Severus, fumbling with his robes, his pale face flushed with indignation and panic, mumbled, "It's nothing, Echo. It was just… an accident. I fell."
"Nothing?" Echo roared, the sound echoing in the dorm. His red hair pulsed violently. "Severus, I can't tell where your back starts and the injuries end! This isn't 'nothing'! This isn't 'falling'!"
Severus finally managed to pull his shirt up, hunching his shoulders and turning his face away. "You saw nothing," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "You saw nothing, Echo. Understand?"
"I will not ignore that!" Echo snapped, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and raw protectiveness. "I will not!"
Severus tried to push past him again, a desperate glint in his eye. "Leave it, Echo! This doesn't concern you!"
But Echo was faster. He lunged, grabbing Severus by the arm, his grip surprisingly strong. "Who did this, Severus?!" he demanded, his eyes blazing. "Tell me! I swear to Merlin, I will kill them for you!"
Severus froze, his struggle ceasing abruptly. He stared at Echo, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What?" he whispered, the single word laced with profound shock.
"You heard me!" Echo repeated, his voice colder, more determined than Severus had ever heard it. His red hair began to swirl with dangerous blacks. "I'll go to the Forbidden Forest, I'll get Wick, I'll find whoever hurt you, and I will burn them alive! I'll make them regret the day they laid a single hand on you!"
"No!" Severus gasped, shaking his head frantically. "You will not do that, Echo! Don't you dare!"
"I will literally kill for you, Severus!" Echo snarled, his grip tightening, his voice utterly devoid of humor or exaggeration.
Severus looked at him, a complex mix of fear, confusion, and a strange, almost painful understanding warring in his eyes. "Why, Echo?" he asked, his voice strained. "Why are you trying to do this, when I… when I essentially betrayed you?"
Echo's expression hardened, his red and black hair flaring. "Yeah, I'm still mad and hurt that you did that, Severus! Believe me, I am! But I still understand your reasoning!" He shoved Severus back a step, releasing his arm to punctuate his words with a furious gesture. "I don't have to like it, but I get the damn reason behind it! Now, tell me the fucker's name so I can burn him to ash!"
As Echo spoke, his gaze swept over Severus's exposed shoulder, lingering on a small, almost imperceptible glint. His eyes narrowed. "Wait… is that… is that glass?" he whispered, his voice suddenly losing its fury, replaced by a dawning, horrified realization.
Severus's face went utterly blank, his eyes darting to his shoulder, a fresh wave of panic washing over him.
"Oh my God," Echo breathed, his red and black hair fading to a sickening, shocked white.
Before Echo could say another word, Severus lunged forward, grabbing him by the front of his robes, his eyes wide and desperate. "You will not breathe a word of this to anyone, Echo! Do you hear me? Not a single word!"
Echo stared at him, his face utterly devoid of emotion, his white hair a stark, chilling contrast to Severus's frantic plea. He didn't react, didn't speak, didn't even blink. With a casual, almost detached movement, he reached under his bed, retrieved Sniffles from his nest, and tucked the Niffler into his pocket. Then, he gently placed Shimmer on his shoulder, his ethereal companion glowing faintly with bewildered concern. Echo then turned and, without another glance at the terrified Severus, calmly walked out of the dorm.
Severus watched him go, frozen for several agonizing seconds, his heart hammering against his ribs. The utter lack of reaction, the chilling calm… it was worse than any outburst. A dawning horror crept over him. Echo wasn't going to ignore it. He was going to tell Lily. With a choked gasp, Severus bolted out of the room, running after Echo, his bare back stinging, his mind a frantic whirlwind of dread. He pounded through the corridors, his strides long and desperate, heading directly for Gryffindor Tower.
He found Echo in a secluded alcove just outside the Gryffindor common room, leaning against the wall. Lily stood before him, her back to Severus, her vibrant red hair a stark contrast to Echo's quiet, purposeful blue. Echo was whispering something, his voice low and urgent. As Severus watched, Lily's expression shifted, rapidly moving from confusion to shock, and finally, to a profound, incandescent anger. Severus instinctively tried to sneak away, to melt back into the shadows, but it was too late. Lily, her head snapping up, caught sight of him.
"SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE!" she roared, her voice echoing with righteous fury, making him freeze in his tracks.
She marched towards him, her eyes blazing. "Take off your clothes, Severus!"
A couple of startled Gryffindors, passing by, paused, looking at them with varying expressions of bewilderment and alarm.
"Hey!" Echo called out, a hint of his usual mischief flickering in his now calmer blue hair. "Don't take that out of context, you perverts!"
Lily, ignoring him, grabbed Severus by the arm and, with surprising strength, dragged him towards a more secluded corner of the castle, Echo following silently behind them. Once hidden away, Lily, her hands trembling with rage, ripped Severus's shirt upwards, exposing his back. She gasped, a choked, horrified sound, her hand flying to her mouth.
Echo winced, his blue hair darkening with renewed pain. "I told you it was bad, Lily."
Lily turned, her eyes, usually so kind, now blazing with a fierce, protective rage. She looked at Severus, her voice trembling. "Severus… did he do this to you? That… that man?"
Echo, his blue hair darkening to an angry indigo, stared at Severus, his jaw clenched. "That man? Who is 'that man,' Lily?"
Lily's gaze hardened, her eyes burning with an inferno of protective fury. "His father, Echo. Tobias Snape."
Echo's indigo hair exploded into a chaotic, horrified white. "His DAD?!"
Lily, tears of rage now streaming down her face, turned to Echo, her voice a low, dangerous growl. "Echo, I need to borrow Wick. I want to burn Tobias Snape's workplace and him to the ground."
Echo stared at her, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face, pushing through the horror and anger. His white hair softened to a fond, shimmering blue. "Oh, Lily," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I've missed you so much."
Severus, still hunched and bruised, finally found his voice, a desperate plea. "No! Both of you! You are not getting into trouble for me!"
Echo shook his head, his blue hair pulsing with resolute defiance. "Trouble? Oh, Severus, we're not getting into trouble."
Lily, a terrifying, incandescent smile gracing her tear-streaked face, finished his thought, her eyes glinting with a dark satisfaction. "Yeah, we're committing a murder."
Severus gasped, his eyes wide with horror, his voice a frantic whisper. "No! Please! Don't do that!"
Echo looked at Severus, a dangerous glint in his eye, his blue hair flickering with a cunning, almost predatory green. "If you don't want us to burn your father alive, Severus, I have a… less messy, but equally effective way."
Severus looked at him with profound concern, but Lily, her eyes still blazing with a vengeful fire, simply raised an intrigued eyebrow.
Echo's green hair pulsed, his voice dropping to a chilling, matter-of-fact tone. "I can send a Dementor to him to suck him dry. Clean, easy, and utterly untraceable."
Lily's eyes widened, a flicker of awe and apprehension in their depths. "You can't… You can't tame a Dementor, Echo."
Echo scoffed, a dark, self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I did. Though 'tame' isn't quite the right word. More like… my slave. I'll explain the whole story later, I promise. It's a long one."
Lily nodded, her face grimly determined. "I will definitely want that story. But for now, go ahead with it."
Severus, his face ashen, pushed himself off the bed, stumbling towards them. "No! Echo, Lily, stop trying to kill people for me! I'm not worth it!"
"Yes, you are, Severus!" Lily roared, her voice cracking with fierce conviction.
"Damn right, you are!" Echo added, his voice equally strong, his green hair flaring with unwavering loyalty.
Severus stared at them, tears welling in his eyes, a profound sense of shock and something akin to overwhelming gratitude warring within him. He had always believed himself unworthy, deserving of the pain, deserving of their scorn. Yet here they were, his best friend and the boy he had betrayed, ready to commit murder for him. The sheer, terrifying devotion was almost too much to bear.
"Don't… don't you understand?" Severus choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "This is… this is my cross to bear. My punishment. You can't… You can't interfere."
Echo stepped forward, his green hair pulsing with a fierce, unyielding light. "No, Severus. This isn't a cross. This is an injustice. And we don't let injustices stand. Not for our friends."
Lily, her hand now resting firmly on Severus's shoulder, looked him in the eye, her gaze unwavering. "And you are our friend, Severus. Always."
Severus finally broke, a choked sob escaping him. He buried his face in his hands, his body shaking. "I… I don't know what to do," he whispered, raw and vulnerable.
Echo, with a gentle touch, pulled Severus's hands away from his face. "You don't have to do anything, Severus. We'll handle it. But you choose: the Dementor, or we burn his workplace to the ground, with him in it?"
Severus shook his head frantically, his pale face streaked with tears. "No! Please! I… I don't want either of those! Can't we just… not do anything?"
Echo's green hair pulsed, a dangerous glint in his eye. "No."
Lily, her expression resolute, echoed him. "No."
Severus's eyes widened further, his breath catching in his throat. "But—"
Lily cut him off, her voice firm but gentler. "Severus, we'll discuss this later. For now, we need to take care of you." She looked at Echo, a question in her eyes. "The Room of Requirement? Somewhere safe?"
Echo nodded, his green hair softening to a determined blue. "The Room of Requirement it is."
They made their way quickly through the deserted corridors. As they approached the familiar stretch of wall on the seventh floor, Echo focused, picturing a sanctuary, a place of comfort and healing. A hidden door shimmered into existence, revealing a vast, warmly lit chamber.
The room that appeared was a cozy, sprawling haven. Plush armchairs and beanbags were scattered around a large, crackling fireplace. One corner held numerous vivariums, some open, some with glass, housing various magical creatures that stirred curiously at their arrival. Another section boasted shelves overflowing with books, scrolls, and ancient texts. In a well-lit area, a long, sturdy wooden table was set up with potion-making equipment, surrounded by various herbs and ingredients. Further on, a clear space was dedicated to spell practice, with enchanted dummies and target rings. The air hummed with a soft, comforting magic.
"Wow," Lily breathed, taking it all in. "I never get tired of seeing this place."
Echo gently guided Severus towards the potion-making table, which, as if by magic, transformed into a comfortable cot, covered in soft, silken pillows. "Lie down, chest down," he instructed softly. "We need to get to your back."
Severus, still numb with shock and a lingering fear, obeyed. Lily, her face grimly set, began to examine his back carefully. Echo, meanwhile, moved swiftly to a smaller table in the potion corner.
"Shimmer," Echo called, his blue hair flickering with concentration. "Start brewing the healing salve, direct application. Pip, if you would, gather some Pain-Relief Potion ingredients for me."
Shimmer, already beginning to solidify, nodded and began sifting through vials and jars with surprising speed, her translucent hands carefully measuring ingredients. A moment later, Pip materialized, neatly arranging several small bottles and herbs on Echo's table.
Lily, meanwhile, had produced a pair of fine silver tweezers. "There's glass, Severus," she murmured, her voice tight with suppressed fury. "Tiny shards. We need to get them out."
Severus let out a soft groan, his face buried in the pillows.
As they worked, the Room of Requirement's inhabitants began to stir. A fluffy Kneazle, its fur the color of cream, padded over to Severus, rubbing its head against his cheek with a soft purr. Severus, wincing as Lily pulled out another shard, merely grunted. A curious Puffskein, round and pink, bounced over and tried to lick Severus's nose, presumably to comfort him by trying to lick his boogers out. Still, Severus, despite his pain, managed to turn his head away, pushing the enthusiastic tongue away. A small, twig-like Bowtruckle, previously perched on a nearby shelf, scurried over and, with surprising dexterity, climbed onto Lily's shoulder. Its tiny, sharp fingers reached out, pointing at a particularly stubborn shard. Lily, startled, gave a small yelp as the Bowtruckle deftly yanked it out. Severus let out a sharp cry of pain.
"Hey!" Lily admonished the Bowtruckle gently, though a faint smile touched her lips. "Careful there, little one."
Sniffles, ever drawn to shiny objects, emerged from Echo's pocket and began trying to snatch the tiny glass shards Lily was placing on a piece of parchment. Lily, with an exasperated sigh, gently pushed him away. "Not now, Sniffles. Those aren't for your hoard."
Several colorful, magical birds, perched on various vivariums, sat quietly on shelves, watching the scene with keen interest. Around Echo's head, Shrink, the Occamy, was coiled, its iridescent scales forming a living, shimmering circlet, keeping his blue hair neatly out of his face as he stirred a bubbling cauldron.
"So, Echo," Lily began, her voice low as she worked, pulling out another sliver of glass. "This… well-dressed gentleman who seems to be anticipating our every need. You haven't introduced us properly." She gestured with her tweezers towards Pip, who was now hovering nearby, holding a clean cloth.
Echo chuckled, a faint, weary sound. "Ah, yes. Lily, Severus, this is Pip. Pip, these are Lily Evans and Severus Snape."
Pip bowed deeply, his tiny emerald suit shimmering. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Evans, Mr. Snape. Pip is at your service."
"He's a house-elf," Echo explained, taking the cloth from Pip to wipe a stray tear from Severus's eye. "A very, very long story. Let's just say Dumbledore initially made me sign a rather… legally binding contract, which basically enslaved him to me. But with some help, I managed to rewrite it from 'servitude' to 'service'. He's been my right-hand man, so to speak, ever since." Echo, however, carefully omitted the darker details of Dumbledore's journal and his perception of Echo as an experiment.
Lily frowned, a troubled look on her face. "Dumbledore… made you sign a contract? That's not like him, Echo. He wouldn't do something so… manipulative, even if it was to, I don't know, 'sorta help' you."
Severus, even through his pain, managed a derisive snort. "You clearly don't know the Headmaster as well as we do, Lily. He's a master of subtle manipulation, all for his 'greater good,' of course."
Pip, meanwhile, continued his silent work, handing Lily a fresh sterile cloth, then fetching a specific herb for Shimmer, then passing a small, empty vial to Echo.
"Speaking of long stories," Lily continued, her voice grim, "you mentioned something about a Dementor. Your slave?"
Echo's blue hair darkened to a thoughtful indigo as he stirred his potion. "Last year, after… everything, my emotions were completely drained. Sucked dry by a Dementor. But I could still cast the Unforgivables, without any emotion behind them. That got me thinking. What would happen if you used an Unforgivable, without emotion, on a non-being?"
Lily shivered, a prickle of unease running down her spine. The implications were chilling. "I… I don't even want to consider it, Echo. How's that numbing solution coming?"
Echo strikes his wand into the mixture, then looks over and watches it. "Almost ready. This should help with the pain, Severus. I just need something to make it stronger."
Severus, his voice still strained, finally spoke. "Knarl quills," he rasped. "A few Knarl quills will strengthen it. They amplify pain-dampening properties."
"Right!" Echo exclaimed, his blue hair brightening with renewed focus. "Pip, could you grab one of the Knarls from the vivarium?"
Pip, ever efficient, bowed and scurried towards one of the open vivariums. A moment later, he returned, carefully cradling a small, hedgehog-like creature with surprisingly sharp quills. The Knarl, its beady eyes blinking, looked around with mild curiosity.
"Hey there, little guy," Echo cooed, extending a hand. "Could you spare a quill for a friend? Just a little one."
After a moment's consideration, the Knarl wriggled slightly, and a single, loose quill detached itself, falling neatly into Echo's outstretched palm. Echo gently stroked the Knarl's head with his other hand. "Thank you; you're a good boy," he murmured before carefully adding the quill to the bubbling potion. The liquid shimmered, taking on a faint, almost imperceptible silver hue.
Echo then looked at Shimmer. "How's that healing salve coming along, Shimmer?"
Shimmer let out a soft, melodious chime, gesturing with a translucent hand towards his own cauldron, which was now emitting a soft, fragrant steam.
"And if you want that healing salve to be truly potent," Severus added, his voice still weak but regaining a hint of his usual precise tone, "a teaspoon of ground unicorn horn would provide unparalleled regenerative properties."
Echo let out a loud, clear whistle that resonated through the chamber. From one of the larger glass vivariums, a magnificent unicorn, her coat dazzling white and her horn glowing with inner light, gracefully stepped out. She inclined her head towards Echo, her large, intelligent eyes blinking.
"Hey, Skip," Echo said gently, running a hand along her silky mane. "Looks like your horn has grown quite long. Mind if I borrow a little bit?"
Skip nudged her horn forward, allowing Echo to sever a small section carefully. He then took a small cheese grater from a shelf and meticulously ground the horn into a fine powder, measuring out precisely one teaspoon. Shimmer, with a delicate swoop, took the measured powder and carefully added it to her cauldron. Skip, after a final nuzzle against Echo, gracefully retreated into her vivarium.
Lily, still intently examining Severus's back, interjected, "Make sure both those potions are strong, you two. Some of these shards are deep, and I'm going to have to dig them out."
Once both potions were complete, Echo carefully poured the now-thickened numbing potion into a spray bottle. Pip, anticipating the need, promptly handed the spray bottle to Lily.
"Here you go, Lil," Echo instructed. "Give Sev a few good sprays all over his back, and let it sit for a minute. It should soak in nicely."
Lily sprayed Severus's back with the numbing potion, watching intently as the shimmering liquid absorbed into his skin. She waited a full minute, her gaze sharp, then nodded to the Bowtruckle on her shoulder. "Alright, little one," she murmured, her voice grim. "Let's get to work."
The Bowtruckle, its tiny fingers twitching with anticipation, began to probe Severus's skin meticulously. Its keen eyesight was far superior to its own for spotting the embedded shards. Severus stiffened as Lily began to dig with the tweezers, but the numbing potion seemed to be working; his only reaction was a soft wince rather than a cry of pain.
"Severus," Lily asked, her voice low as she expertly plucked a particularly deep shard, "how long have these... been in your back?"
Severus let out a ragged breath, his face still buried in the pillows. "A week, I reckon."
Lily pulled back, her eyes widening in disbelief. "A week? Severus, why didn't you do anything sooner? You could have gotten a serious infection!"
Severus shifted uncomfortably. "What was I supposed to do, Lily? I couldn't use magic at home, not with him lurking. And I certainly didn't have anyone to help me. Besides," his voice was muffled, tinged with a bitter resentment, "my father kept... kept at it. Every time I thought I'd gotten some out, he'd just add more. It was impossible to get them all."
Echo, who had been meticulously cleaning out his cauldron, his movements fluid and precise, froze. His blue hair, which had been a calm, focused hue, flared into a dangerous, pulsating crimson. His hands, gripping the cauldron's rim, clenched, and a faint, metallic creak sounded as the sturdy metal began to bend under the force of his suppressed fury. He kept his back to them, his shoulders rigid, fighting an internal battle.
A few of the colorful, magical birds, taking advantage of the lull, began to flutter down from their perches, eyeing Severus's discarded robes and shirt with intense interest. They chirped excitedly, already beginning to tug at the fabric, clearly intent on turning them into makeshift nests.
"Echo," Severus grunted, a hint of his usual exasperation in his voice. "Make them stop. They're going to ruin my robes."
Echo took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing his crimson hair back to a controlled, though still angry, indigo. He let out a series of short, sharp whistles, weaving in specific bird calls that resonated with surprising authority. The birds, startled, immediately abandoned their nesting efforts and soared back to their high perches, chattering indignantly.
Lily, still focused on Severus's back, but with a new, dangerous glint in her eyes, spoke. "Speaking of creatures, Echo," she said, her voice deceptively calm. "Do you have enough evidence in that Pensieve of yours to expose Lucius now?"
Severus tensed beneath her touch, a visible shiver running through him.
Echo, his indigo hair pulsing with a sudden, shrewd green, turned slowly. His gaze met Lily's, then flickered to Severus, a silent question in his eyes. "Ask Severus, Lily."
Severus let out a long, weary sigh, his earlier relief replaced by a familiar sense of dread. "It's… It's gone, Lily," he mumbled into the pillows. "The Pensieve. The memories. All of it."
Lily paused, her tweezers hovering. "Gone? What do you mean, 'gone'?"
"He told Lucius where it was," Echo explained, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. His green hair flickered, a cold, hard blue. "The location, everything. Lucius found it. And he… he broke it. Shattered it. The memories were lost."
Lily's expression remained eerily calm, almost serene. A slow, unsettling smile spread across her face, devoid of any genuine warmth. It was a smile that promised retribution. With a sudden, savage yank, she pulled out a particularly large, deeply embedded shard of glass. Severus let out a sharp, involuntary yelp, a sound akin to a wounded dog, his body arching off the cot.
"Severus Tobias Snape!" Lily's voice, though still low, was now laced with a dangerous, icy edge that made even Echo flinch. Her eyes, usually pools of emerald warmth, were now twin points of emerald fire. "You had better have a damn good explanation for this, and it had better be better than 'I fell,' or I swear to Merlin, I will personally ensure you never sit comfortably again!"
Severus, still writhing from the pain of the shard, managed to turn his head slightly, his face pale and clammy. "Lily, please… it wasn't… it wasn't like that. I had no choice. Lucius… he was getting suspicious. He thought I was playing both sides, that my loyalty to the Dark Lord was wavering. If he had reported that, if the Dark Lord had even suspected…" He trailed off, a visible shudder running through him. "My life, Lily. My life was on the line. I couldn't risk it. I couldn't blow my cover. There was no other way."
Lily stared at him, her lips a thin, hard line. "No other way? Severus, this was Echo's only hope! His only chance at regaining some respect, some semblance of a normal life around here!" She gestured wildly towards Echo, her voice rising. "He's been tormented, outcast, broken by this school, and those memories were his one chance to fight back!"
Echo, his blue hair still a simmering, determined hue, stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Lily's shoulder. "Actually, Lil… I was just thinking about it, and… as much as it hurt at the time, and believe me, it hurt like hell… it really was the best decision." He looked at Severus, a complicated mix of lingering hurt and dawning understanding in his eyes. "If he'd tried to cover for me, he would have been exposed. The whole network, whatever he's doing for Dumbledore, would have fallen apart. It wouldn't have helped anyone in the long run. He couldn't risk his cover."
Lily blinked, her fiery gaze softening slightly as she looked from Echo to Severus. "So… so you're saying… You understand? Even after all that?"
Echo nodded slowly. "I don't like it. I still wish it hadn't happened. But I understand. It was a choice between my reputation and his life, and the greater fight he's involved in. A terrible choice, but… the logical one, for him." His blue hair settled into a calm, thoughtful state, tinged with a resolute green. "But that doesn't mean we can't make this work for us. Perhaps even… turn it to our advantage."
Severus looked at Echo, his eyes wide with surprise and a fragile hope. "What are you talking about?"
Echo's green hair pulsed, a cunning, almost predatory glint entering his eyes. "You said Lucius thought your loyalties were wavering, didn't you? That you were too close to me? Well, let's give him what he wants. I'll give you information, Severus. Information about me. Things you can pass on to Lucius, or even directly to the Dark Lord, that will make it seem like you're gaining my trust, exploiting my weaknesses, bringing me over to their side."
Lily gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Echo, you're going to… you're going to try and trick the Dark Lord? You're going to trick him into thinking he's tricking us?"
Echo smirked, a dark, self-satisfied expression. "Exactly. Give them just enough truth, just enough vulnerability, that they think they're playing me. That they think they have me figured out. All while I'm a step ahead."
Just then, Pip, who had been listening intently from his perch on a nearby bookshelf, clapped his tiny hands together. "How tricky! Pip likes tricky!" he squeaked, his eyes shining with admiration.
Severus stared at Echo, his face a complex mixture of fear, disbelief, and a grudging admiration. "Echo," he said, his voice low and strained, "you are proposing a profoundly dangerous game. Playing with the Dark Lord is not a child's prank. He will dissect every word, every nuance. One false step, one flicker of genuine defiance, and we will both be utterly, irrevocably destroyed."
Echo met his gaze, his blue hair flaring with a fierce, unwavering determination. "Perhaps," he conceded, his voice quiet but firm. "But we are already in this game of chess, Severus. Both of us. You with your double life, me with my so-called 'dark' magic and my inconvenient truths. We've gone too deep to pull back now, haven't we? Too many threads are intertwined." He took a step closer, his eyes burning with a strategic fire. "We may as well stop being pawns, Severus. We may as well become knights. And we have time to plan, Severus," Echo continued, his voice a low thrum of strategic thought. "Lucius has been awfully quiet since our last encounter. Almost seems like he's backing off."
Severus let out a cynical snort. "He's not backing off, Echo. He's either biding his time or dealing with other things now that he's no longer a student. Taking up his aristocratic duties, no doubt. He'll return when it suits him."
"I sure hope he is, for your sakes," Lily interjected, her voice tight with concern, as the Bowtruckle on her shoulder meticulously probed a particularly stubborn area on Severus's neck. "Because this is dangerous, both of you. The last thing I want is to see either of you getting in too deep, or worse, getting hurt."
As if on cue, the Bowtruckle, with a sudden, surprisingly forceful tug, yanked a very deep and unusually large shard of glass from the nape of Severus's neck. Severus let out a guttural groan, his body tensing from the unexpected pain.
"Speaking of deep," Echo said, his voice laced with grim humor, his blue hair flickering with a sharp green. That one was really deep, Sev."
Lily and the Bowtruckle worked in silent, determined tandem, their movements precise and unwavering, until every last fragment of glass, no matter how minute, was meticulously removed from Severus's back. Once his pale skin was finally clear of the cruel shrapnel, Pip, ever attentive, materialized by Lily's side, holding the now-finished healing salve, its soft green glow emanating a soothing aroma.
"Alright, Lil," Echo instructed, his voice gentler now, his blue hair a calm, steady hue. "Go ahead and rub that into his back. And on his face, too, for that matter. The numbing potion should be wearing off on his face now."
Lily paused, her brow furrowing as she glanced at the faint bruises still marring Severus's cheeks. "His face? How did he get those facial injuries, Echo?"
Echo winced, a faint flush creeping up his neck. His blue hair flickered with a sheepish orange. "Ah… that was me, actually. I was a bit… pissed off, after figuring out it was him who told Lucius where the Pensieve was."
Severus let out a low, humorless chuckle, his voice still a little strained. "Given what I did, Echo, I'd say I somewhat deserved a beating. It was a fair trade, all things considered."
Lily sighed, a long, weary sound that spoke volumes. She uncorked the healing salve, its soft green glow illuminating her determined face, and began to rub the fragrant ointment onto Severus's face gently. The bruises, welts, and abrasions on his cheeks and jaw slowly began to fade, the skin beneath taking on a healthier, less inflamed hue. Then, with careful, tender movements, she applied it to his back, covering the raw, red skin and the angry welts that still crisscrossed his shoulders. As the salve absorbed, the general bruising and swelling diminished, but the deeper cuts and lacerations, where the glass had once been embedded, remained stubbornly open, thin lines of red against his pale skin.
Echo, his blue hair flickering with concern, leaned closer. "That salve is good for surface wounds and bruising, but those deep cuts… they'll need more than just topical application." He paused, his gaze fixed on the lingering injuries. "I could use my Beast Healing spells. The weaker ones, meant for open wounds, should work on a human body." His blue hair pulsed with a focused, determined green. Without waiting for an answer, he extended his gnarled wand, murmuring a series of soft, guttural words in Parseltongue. A faint, emerald glow emanated from the tip of his wand, washing over Severus's back. The deep cuts, as if stitched by an invisible hand, began to close, the skin knitting together with an almost miraculous speed. Once the larger wounds were sealed, Echo pulled back, his green hair settling into a calmer blue. "There," he said, his voice a little breathless. "That should close them up. Now the salve can do its work on the rest."
Severus slowly pushed himself up, wincing slightly but looking noticeably better. He carefully pulled his shirt back on, the fabric no longer sticking to fresh wounds. He turned to face them, his eyes, though still shadowed, holding a profound sense of gratitude. "Thank you, both of you," he said, his voice softer than usual. "Truly. I… I don't know what I would have done without you." He then fixed them with a stern gaze, a flicker of his usual imperiousness returning. "But about my father… You will not go after him. I want that man to pay just as much as you do, believe me. But there are rules and laws for a reason. And besides," he added, a subtle change of subject in his tone, "we should start getting ready for the Sorting Ceremony. It'll be starting soon."
Severus, his back still aching but feeling immeasurably better, gave a curt nod to Echo and Lily. "I appreciate your… misplaced enthusiasm, but my father is my concern," he stated, his voice regaining its familiar, clipped tone. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must ensure I am presentable for the feast." He turned, a swish of his robes, and walked towards the shimmering door, which opened silently to allow him passage.
Lily watched him go, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. She turned to Echo, her hands on her hips, her red hair a fiery halo in the warm light of the Room. "So, about that dragon fire, Echo? Are we still on, or are we letting him off the hook?"
Echo, his blue hair a thoughtful, almost mischievous green, slowly shook his head. "As much as I want to see that man get what he deserves, Lily, we have to respect Severus's wishes. He's been through enough. And besides," a cunning glint entered his eyes, "I have a much, much better idea."
Lily's eyes narrowed. "Better than dragon fire? Or a Dementor?"
Echo grinned, a dark, self-satisfied smirk. "Oh, definitely the Dementor, Lil. But I won't just kill him. In fact, I'm going to do something… beneficial."
Lily looked at him expectantly, her fiery red hair bouncing with anticipation. Her gaze then fell upon the gleaming emerald necklace around his neck, the serpent's head glinting in the light. Her eyes widened slightly.
"Echo," she began, her voice tinged with curiosity, "what is that necklace? I've never seen you wear anything like it. It's… quite striking. Where did you get it?"
Echo instinctively reached up, his fingers brushing the cool silver. His green hair flickered with a hesitant blue. A faint, almost mischievous smile touched his lips. "Oh, this?" he said, his voice light. "Even if I told you, Lil, you wouldn't believe me." With a quick, smooth movement, he tucked the necklace under his robes, concealing it from view.
Lily crossed her arms, an amused but determined glint in her eyes. "Try me, Echo. I've seen you do enough impossible things. I think I can handle a story about a necklace."
Echo paused, then sighed, a theatrical gesture. He glanced at the hidden necklace, then back at Lily, his blue hair settling into a thoughtful, storytelling hue. "Alright, fine. You asked for it. I got it from… Salazar Slytherin himself. In person. He gave it to me."
Lily stared at him, a beat of silence hanging in the air. Then, she let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Yeah," she said, shaking her head, a wide, incredulous smile on her face. "You're right, Echo. I don't believe you. Not a word."