The remaining hours of the morning passed in a strange blur for Echo. He ate breakfast, a silent, unblinking presence at the Slytherin table, barely registering the food. Severus, looking considerably less smug and with a pronounced swelling on his nose, sat at the head table, occasionally glaring in Echo's direction. As the afternoon wore on, the tension in the castle mounted. Whispers of the morning's brawl, embellished with every telling, spread like wildfire. The rainbow hair on Echo was a constant, glaring reminder. Students from all houses, especially Gryffindors, craned their necks to stare.
Just before lunch, as Echo was making his way through a deserted corridor, a voice spoke from the shadows. "Echo."
He stopped, turning. Remus Lupin emerged, looking weary, his arm still held at an awkward angle. He was alone.
"What do you want, Lupin?" Echo asked, his voice flat, devoid of the earlier rage.
Remus swallowed, his gaze fixed on Echo's hair. "I… I wanted to talk," he said, his voice hesitant. "About this morning. And… about the forest."
Echo raised an eyebrow, a flicker of cold curiosity. "Speak."
Remus took a deep breath. "Look, I'm not going to pretend we weren't wrong. The shampoo prank was out of line. James, Sirius… they go too far sometimes. But you… You really scared us. And the griffin…" He trailed off, a shiver running through him. "That was… something else."
"Indeed," Echo murmured, a cold satisfaction in his tone. "Perhaps it will teach you a lesson."
"Maybe," Remus conceded, rubbing his injured arm. "But about the Forbidden Forest. It's truly dangerous, Echo. There are things in there… things even Hagrid doesn't fully understand. We're not… we're not as prepared as you seem to be." His eyes darted around, as if fearing being overheard. "And honestly, Peter is terrified. He'll be useless. And James and Sirius… they'll probably just make it worse."
Echo waited, his expression unreadable.
"What I'm trying to say is," Remus continued, lowering his voice even further, "we could… we could use your help. We know you know the forest better than any of us. And after what you did this morning… we saw what you can do. We need to get through this without someone actually getting hurt. Or worse."
Echo stared at Remus, a cold, analytical appraisal in his eyes. He was an unexpected ally, a weak link in the chain. This could be useful.
"What do you propose?" Echo asked, his voice still flat.
Remus visibly relaxed slightly. "Cooperation. We stick together. You… you lead. We follow. And we won't try to prank you again. Ever. Just… just help us get through this." He hesitated, then reached into his robes, pulling out a folded piece of ancient-looking parchment. "And perhaps…perhaps this might help."
He held out the parchment. Echo took it, his cold fingers brushing against Remus's. The parchment felt old, impossibly old, and hummed with a faint, complex magic. It was blank.
"What is this?" Echo asked, his brow furrowed.
Remus gave a faint, tired smile. "It's a map. Not just any map. It shows everything. Everyone. Every secret passage, every hidden corner of Hogwarts. Even the Forbidden Forest. But it only works… when you need it to." He leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "You just tap it with your wand and say, 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.'"
Echo stared at the blank parchment, then back at Remus. A curious, chilling spark of interest ignited within him. This wasn't just a map; it was a tool for knowledge, for observation, for control. It was the kind of thing he needed.
"Why are you giving this to me?" Echo asked, his voice still devoid of warmth.
Remus shrugged, a flicker of weariness in his eyes. "Because you're the only one who can handle it. And honestly, Echo, after this morning, I'm just hoping to survive the week. A truce, then?"
Echo looked at the map, then at Remus's earnest, if still wary, face. A pragmatic decision formed in his cold mind. This was a concession, a sign of their fear, and a valuable asset.
"A truce," Echo stated, his voice flat. "For now." He folded the map carefully, tucking it into his robes. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have preparations to make."
Remus nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his face. "Right. See you at sundown, then. By Hagrid's hut." He turned and limped away, leaving Echo alone in the silent corridor, the blank map a new, intriguing mystery in his hand.
Echo remained still for a moment, his gaze fixed on the spot where Remus had disappeared. The map. A tool to see everything, to know everything. The prospect sent a cold thrill through him. He would master this, too. He would leave nothing to chance.
He spent the rest of the day in the Room of Requirement, but not on healing spells. Instead, he focused on the blank parchment, tapping it with his wand, muttering the strange incantation Remus had provided. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
With a soft, almost imperceptible shimmer, intricate lines of ink began to spread across the parchment, forming a detailed, sprawling map of Hogwarts. Tiny footprints, labeled with names, moved across the corridors. He saw Dumbledore in his office, Snape in their shared living space, and the Marauders, still a bit bruised, heading to dinner. He saw the contours of the Forbidden Forest, a vast, unexplored expanse. Echo's lips curved into a faint, bloodless smile. This was more than a map. This was knowledge, and knowledge was power. The anticipation for sundown, for the Forbidden Forest, intensified. He was ready.
As he emerged from the Room of Requirement, the blank parchment, now pulsating faintly with unseen magic, clutched in his hand, Echo walked with a renewed sense of purpose. He was still processing the map's implications, the sheer depth of the information it offered, when a voice, surprisingly meek, called out to him from down the corridor.
"Echo?"
He stopped, turning his head. Standing a few yards away, shuffling nervously, was Frank Longbottom. Frank looked as though he hadn't slept, his hair even more disheveled than usual, his face pale and drawn. He clutched a book to his chest, his eyes wide and anxious.
"Longbottom," Echo said, his voice flat, devoid of warmth. "What do you want?"
Frank winced at his tone, taking a hesitant step closer. "I… I just wanted to say… I'm really sorry. About yesterday."
Echo blinked, a flicker of cold confusion. "Yesterday? What are you talking about?" He had no recollection of anything noteworthy involving Frank Longbottom from the previous day. His mind was a blank slate for trivial encounters.
Frank shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting to Echo's still-vibrant rainbow hair, then quickly away. "You know, in flying class? With Madam Hooch? My… my secret technique. It went a bit wrong. I didn't mean for your broom to… to go haywire. I heard you almost… It was an accident, I swear!"
Echo stared at him. The broom incident. It had been so minor, so easily dismissed amidst the cascade of other, more significant traumas and magical breakthroughs. He had barely given it a second thought. He remembered a vague annoyance, a cold frustration at the malfunctioning broom, but the cause had been irrelevant to him. It had simply been another obstacle.
"Oh," Echo said, the single word flat and expressionless. "That."
Frank took this as encouragement, rushing on. "Yeah, that! I've just… I've heard so much about you. You know, about the Dark Arts and how you're so… powerful. And quiet. I thought you were really cool. And I just wanted to impress you so that we could be… you know… friends." He trailed off, his face flushing a deep red.
Echo looked at him, his dark eyes unblinking. Frank Longbottom was attempting to impress him with clumsy, ill-conceived magic, nearly causing an accident, all in a misguided attempt at friendship. This desire for connection was a strange, almost alien concept.
"Whatever you did," Echo stated, his voice flat, "wasn't the cause. My broom… it just malfunctions sometimes. It's… complicated." He omitted the part about his own raw, uncontrolled magic overriding the broom's enchantments, which was irrelevant to Frank's clumsy attempt at connection.
He then paused, a cold, analytical thought forming. Frank Longbottom was a known entity, a well-meaning but awkward boy. An ally, however minor, might be useful. He looked at his still-rainbow-colored hair, remembering the morning's brawl and the impending detention.
"Do you…" Echo began, the words feeling foreign and clunky in his mouth. "Do you still want to be friends? Despite… this?" He gestured vaguely at his own head, then waved a hand around the deserted corridor, implying the lingering rumors of the morning's chaos. And the detention. In the Forbidden Forest."
Frank's eyes, though still wide, held a flicker of genuine hope. He nodded eagerly. "Yeah! Yeah, Echo, I do! Even with… everything. I really do."
Echo studied him, a faint, almost imperceptible shift in his blank expression. "Alright, then, Frank Longbottom," Echo said, his voice flat but with a new, almost clinical acceptance. "Consider it done. We are… friends." He turned and continued his walk, leaving Frank staring after him, a bewildered but undeniably happy smile slowly spreading across his face.
"Echo, wait!" Frank called out, his voice slightly breathless.
Echo stopped, turning once more, a flicker of cold impatience flickering in his voice. He was eager to return to the Room of Requirement, to the map, to his plans for the Forbidden Forest. "What is it now, Longbottom?" he asked, his voice flat.
Frank hurried closer, rummaging awkwardly in his robes. "I… I forgot to give you something back," he stammered, his face still flushed with a mixture of happiness and nervousness. "It got dislodged when your broom went… a bit wild. I managed to grab him before… well, before everything else happened."
Echo stared, his mind still blank. What could Frank possibly have? He owned so little, and what he did own was either on his person or carefully concealed. Then, with a flourish, Frank pulled a small, furry, black creature from the depths of his robes. It blinked its tiny, inquisitive eyes at Echo, letting out a soft, chittering sound of recognition.
"Sniffles!" Echo whispered, the name escaping him on a breath that was almost a gasp. In all the chaos, the Dementor, the healing, the brawl, the discovery of his new magic, the map… he had entirely forgotten his first and best friend. Sniffles, his loyal, thieving Niffler, his one true companion.
A wave of something akin to warmth, profound and undeniable, surged through Echo's hollow core, pushing back against the cold. It wasn't the fleeting satisfaction of power, or the logical pleasure of a plan executed. It was… joy. Pure, unadulterated, if still fragile, joy. Sniffles, unharmed, chittering happily, reaching out a tiny, clawed paw towards him. Echo reached out, his cold fingers gently scooping up the Niffler. Sniffles immediately burrowed into his robes, a comforting, familiar weight against his chest.
"He's… quite the little escape artist," Frank said, a nervous chuckle escaping him. "He kept trying to dig for coins in my pocket all day. I figured he must be yours when he wasn't interested in anything but shiny things."
Echo looked at Frank, his dark eyes, usually blank, now holding a faint, almost imperceptible sheen. "Thank you, Frank," he said, his voice low and, for the first time that day, imbued with genuine, heartfelt sincerity. "Thank you. For Sniffles."
Frank blinked, surprised by the unexpected depth of emotion in Echo's voice. "No problem, Echo," he mumbled, a wide, genuine smile spreading across his face. "Glad to help."
Echo merely nodded, clutching Sniffles tightly against him. The Niffler purred, a tiny, rumbling sound that resonated deep within Echo's chest. The map, the Forbidden Forest, the detentions… they were still there, still important. But for a fleeting moment, in the quiet corridor, reunited with his tiny, beloved companion, Echo felt a peace he hadn't known was possible.