The days leading up to All Hallows' Eve were a whirlwind of activity at Hogwarts. The castle, usually somber and ancient, began to shed its austere demeanor in favor of a playful, if slightly macabre, festive spirit. Bats—real and enchanted—fluttered through the corridors, carved pumpkins grinned from every niche, and the scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke mingled with the usual Hogwarts aromas. Ghostly apparitions of witches and wizards danced in the Great Hall, their spectral laughter echoing through the stone walls.
Lily Evans, her green eyes sparkling with infectious enthusiasm, practically bounced through the bustling corridors on a crisp autumn afternoon. She spotted Echo and Severus, as usual, seated at the back of the Great Hall, a silent, almost unsettling island of calm amidst the pre-Halloween fervor. Severus was meticulously arranging his dinner. Echo, now fully recovered from his Elmo-induced facial trauma, ate with his customary quiet efficiency, his usually black hair marked only by the familiar emerald streak of detached observation.
"Echo! Sev!" Lily exclaimed, sliding onto the bench beside them, her voice bubbling with excitement. "Aren't you two just absolutely buzzing for Halloween? The castle looks incredible! And Professor Flitwick said he's trying to charm the suits of armor to do a synchronized monster mash in the Entrance Hall!"
Severus, caught mid-chew, offered a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. "Indeed, Lily. Your… enthusiasm is quite infectious. I daresay the prospect of an entire evening free from academic pursuits holds a certain… appeal." He cast a side-long glance at Echo, a silent plea for him to follow suit.
Echo, however, merely blinked, his expression remaining utterly blank. The emerald streak in his hair, for once, didn't even waver. "Halloween?" he stated, his voice flat. "What, precisely, is Halloween?"
Lily froze, her mouth agape. Her bright smile slowly dissolved into a look of profound, almost comical, shock. "You… you don't know what Halloween is, Echo?" she whispered, as if he'd just confessed to not knowing what a wand was.
Echo tilted his head slightly. "No. Should I?"
Lily stared at him for a long moment, then slowly, dramatically, put a hand to her forehead. "Oh, Echo," she breathed, her voice filled with a mixture of pity and renewed determination. "This simply will not do. This is a travesty! It's… It's the best holiday of the year! Well, after Christmas, maybe. But still!"
She leaned closer, her eyes blazing with the fervor of a missionary. Severus, sensing the inevitable lecture, subtly leaned back, a faint, resigned sigh escaping him.
"Alright," Lily began, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "so, Halloween is on October thirty-first, right? And it's this amazing, ancient holiday. It used to be called Samhain, and it's when the veil between the living and the dead is thinnest, and spirits can cross over, but also, it's just… fun!"
Echo's emerald streak pulsed, a faint flicker of intellectual curiosity. "Spirits?"
"Yes! Ghosts, and ghouls, and all sorts! But the best part, the really best part, is the celebrations! All the classes are cut short that day, practically canceled! And everyone—everyone—gets to dress up in costumes! You can be anything you want! A wizard, a vampire, a goblin, a… a giant pumpkin!" Lily's eyes shone with the sheer joy of it.
"Costumes," Echo repeated, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor running through the emerald strand in his hair. "Wait, witches and wizards, aren't we already doing that all the time?"
"Exactly! And then, the entire school opens up for trick-or-treating! You can go from classroom to classroom, dormitory to dormitory, and even the professors give out sweets! Dumbledore always has the best lemon drops, of course. But you can also go out, Echo! To Hogsmeade! Or the nearby hamlets! It's like the whole magical community celebrates together!" Lily practically clapped her hands with excitement. "And then, there's the feast! The Halloween feast in the Great Hall is legendary! Mountains of sweets, roasted meats, pumpkin juice, literally everything you can imagine! And then, usually, there's a massive party, or a haunted maze, or a talent show!"
She paused, taking a breath, her gaze fixed on Echo's impassive face, searching for any sign of a reaction.
Echo remained silent for a long moment, his eyes, usually blank, seeming to process the information with an almost visible intensity. The emerald streak in his hair began to shimmer, subtly, then more vibrantly, as the thought of dressing up and free sweets, especially chocolate, filled his mind. A faint, almost imperceptible thread of bright, iridescent gold began to weave its way through the green, then spread, like tendrils of dawn, throughout the black. It pulsed, a soft, internal glow, mirroring the warmth that spread through him at the prospect of such delightful indulgences.
"So," Echo stated, his voice still flat, but with a new, almost imperceptible undercurrent, "if I understand correctly: sanctioned disguise, opportunities for acquiring confections—especially chocolate, which I have truly come to appreciate—abbreviated academic responsibilities, communal celebration, and the possibility of observing otherworldly entities? It sounds... promising." The golden strands in his hair flared brighter, becoming a vibrant, unmistakable yellow.
Lily's eyes widened, a delighted gasp escaping her. She pointed triumphantly. "Yes! Echo! Exactly! Oh, your hair! It's…it's yellow! That must be… happiness! Or excitement! You're excited, aren't you?"
Echo merely nodded, his lips curling into that familiar, bloodless smirk. The yellow strands in his hair, however, continued to pulse with a vivid, undeniable glow, a silent testament to the unfamiliar, yet potent, surge of something akin to genuine happiness and anticipation.
Severus, who had been observing the exchange with detached amusement, finally spoke, a faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Indeed, Lily. It appears even a perpetually blank slate such as Echo can appreciate the finer points of a properly executed holiday." He then eyed Echo's now-glowing hair. "Though I daresay, the 'sanctioned disguise' aspect will be particularly appealing to him. Perhaps he'll finally forgo the ridiculous onesie."
Echo merely gave Severus a pointed look, his yellow-streaked hair flickering with a faint, amused challenge. Lily, oblivious, was already planning her costume.
The crisp autumn air of All Hallows' Eve hummed with an almost palpable excitement. Students, already dressed in a wild array of costumes, bustled through the corridors, their laughter echoing through the festooned castle. The Great Hall, decorated with hundreds of flickering jack-o'-lanterns and spectral banners, was a riot of color and anticipation.
Lily Evans, resplendent in a shimmering, ethereal silver gown that made her look like a benevolent fairy, weaved through the throng, her eyes scanning the tables for a familiar figure. She spotted Severus Snape, looking predictably grim in a perfectly tailored, if somewhat understated, vampire cloak, sipping pumpkin juice.
"Sev!" Lily exclaimed, reaching for him. Have you seen Echo? The feast is about to begin! I thought he'd be here by now; he seemed so excited about the chocolate!"
Severus merely raised an eyebrow. "He was, indeed, last seen putting the 'finishing touches' on his costume," he drawled, a hint of something unreadable in his tone. "He seemed quite… particular about it."
Lily's brow furrowed in curiosity. "Finishing touches? What could he possibly be dressed as? He was so blank about it when I asked."
"Your guess is as good as mine, Lily," Severus replied, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips. "Though I daresay, knowing Echo, it will be something entirely illogical and unnecessarily dramatic."
As if on cue, a sudden hush fell over the Great Hall. All eyes, which had been darting around the room, now converged on the massive oak doors. They swung open with a theatrical creak, revealing a figure that commanded instant, stunned silence.
Echo stood framed in the doorway, a living, breathing embodiment of a nightmare. He was dressed as a Chimera, but not just any Chimera. His costume was disturbingly realistic, with a lion's body crafted from dark, shaggy fur, a goat's head meticulously sculpted on his left shoulder, and a serpent's tail, tipped with a venomous-looking barb, coiling behind him. His own head, however, was still unmistakably Echo's, framed by the dark, sleek fur of the lion's mane, his black hair still marked by the persistent emerald streak of detached observation. But what truly stole the breath from every student and professor was the fine, white powder dusted liberally across the tip of his nose, glinting eerily in the candlelight.
A collective gasp swept through the hall. Whispers, both horrified and awestruck, rippled through the crowd. Lily, recognizing the infamous "chimera on cocaine" part of the rumor, clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and dawning amusement.
"Echo!" she whispered, her voice barely audible amidst the stunned silence. "Are you serious? You actually dressed up as… the chimera on cocaine part of the rumor?"
Echo, his expression as blank as ever, merely inclined his head. The emerald streak in his hair pulsed with a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of satisfaction. "Indeed, Lily. It seemed… appropriate. And as for the 'Tickle Me Elmo doll that has depression and is always on fire' aspect, I decided against it. Parading around in that cursed suit again would undoubtedly lead to further self-inflicted facial trauma, and quite possibly, a premature demise via public humiliation. It is, frankly, off the table."
Lily shook her head, a helpless giggle escaping her lips, even as she noted the familiar, chilling "gremlin smile" that touched Echo's lips. "Of course it is," she murmured.
Severus, who had been studying the costume with a mixture of professional interest and reluctant admiration, finally spoke, his voice tight. "And the head, Echo? The lion's head, I presume? Can it… breathe fire?"
Echo turned his blank gaze to Severus, a faint, almost imperceptible scoff escaping him. The emerald in his hair flickered with a brief, almost playful spark of gold. "What kind of fool, Professor," he stated, his voice flat, yet carrying an undeniable edge of challenge, "dresses up as something that can breathe fire and doesn't include that functionality?"
A hush fell over the Great Hall once more, thicker than before. Even Dumbledore, at the Head Table, paused, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of apprehension and profound interest. Echo raised his chin, his blank eyes fixed on the ceiling. The lion's head of his costume, meticulously crafted, seemed to swell imperceptibly. A low, rumbling sound, surprisingly deep and resonant, emanated from within the beast's maw, growing in intensity. The air shimmered, and a faint, acrid scent of ozone began to fill the hall.
Then, with a sudden, breathtaking whoosh, a torrent of vivid, crackling orange and crimson flame erupted from the lion's mouth, soaring upwards towards the enchanted ceiling. It lingered for a moment, licking playfully at the shimmering stars, before gracefully dissipating into harmless sparks. The roar of the fire, though brief, was deafening, making students jump and professors flinch. The heat, even from a distance, was palpable. When the last ember faded, silence descended, heavier than before. Then, a collective cheer, mixed with stunned gasps, erupted. Students clapped, some stood on their benches, and even a few professors offered polite, if bewildered, applause.
Echo lowered his head, his impassive gaze sweeping over the impressed crowd. The emerald streak in his hair pulsed with a deep, almost triumphant green, tinged with a faint, almost imperceptible golden glow. He then turned his head, his eyes landing on the Gryffindor table. His lips, framed by the lion's mane, curled into that familiar, bloodless smirk.
There, squeezed together at a slightly too-small section of the table, sat James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter. James was attempting to look sagely as Professor Dumbledore, complete with a long, shimmering silver beard and half-moon spectacles precariously perched on his nose. Sirius, looking utterly ridiculous, wore a hastily fashioned green cloak and a rather lopsided, pointed hat, clearly aiming for Professor McGonagall. Remus, looking pale and thoroughly uncomfortable, was draped in oversized, dusty robes and a perpetually furrowed brow, a dismal attempt at Professor Flitwick. And Peter, almost invisible, was squeezed between them, wearing what appeared to be a slightly wilted flowerpot on his head, presumably as Professor Sprout.
Echo's golden-tinged emerald hair flickered with a brief, vivid sapphire blue—a clear sign of amusement, mixed with a healthy dose of derision. He leaned subtly towards Severus, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper, audible only to his immediate companions over the renewed buzz of the hall.
"Observe, Severus," Echo murmured, his flat tone laced with an almost imperceptible hint of contempt. "The intellectual giants of Gryffindor. Dressed as those they supposedly hold in esteem. One would think, given their limited brain capacity, they would at least attempt something… original. They look like a particularly uninspired Muggle theatrical troupe. Utterly tedious. And quite frankly, rather lame."
Severus merely grunted, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. "Indeed, Echo. Their lack of imagination is, as always, truly astounding. And to think they consider themselves pranksters."