The following weeks at Hogwarts were a masterclass in social isolation. Echo moved through the corridors like a ghost haunting his own life. The student body at large had settled into a comfortable rhythm of active avoidance; they didn't whisper as he passed anymore, they ceased to exist in his periphery, and he in theirs. It was a silence he might have found peaceful if it weren't so violently punctuated by the Marauders.
James, Sirius, and Peter had turned their legendary penchant for mischief into a campaign of systematic harassment. It started small—Trip Jinxes in the Entrance Hall, books magically turning into slithering eels in his bag, and "Kick Me" signs that pulsed with a neon light no cleaning charm could touch. But as September bled into October, the pranks grew sharper, edged with a cold, retaliatory bite. Echo never raised his wand. He never even looked up. He let the spells hit, his hair remaining a dull, motionless charcoal gray that refused to spark with even a hint of defensive maroon.
Remus Lupin was the only one who didn't participate. He stood at the back of the group, his face drawn and pale, watching Echo endure the humiliation with a hollow, crushing sadness. He would catch Echo's eye for a fleeting second before James would pull him away, his silence a heavy, unspoken apology that did nothing to stop the next hex.
His small circle of friends became a frantic shield. Frank and Alice made a habit of walking on either side of him in the hallways, physically blocking the stinging hexes Sirius threw from the shadows. Amos would spend his lunch hours scouring the library for counter-curses to the increasingly obscure jinxes Peter managed to land. Severus watched with a dark, simmering loathing, his hand often twitching toward his wand, but he obeyed the silent command in Echo's eyes to stay out of it. Pandora would occasionally drift by, whispering about Glimmers and tucking small, protective charms into Echo's pockets, her presence a brief, airy reprieve from the weight of the world.
Only Lily refused to be silent. Every time a bucket of ice-water fell from a doorway or Echo's robes were magically tethered to a moving staircase, she would whirl on the Marauders like a storm. "Is this what makes you feel big, James?" she would scream, her emerald eyes flashing with a terrifying, righteous fury. "Attacking someone who won't even look at you? You're not pranksters, you're just bullies!" James would merely shrug, his smile never reaching his cold, arrogant eyes, while Lily spent the next hour meticulously drying Echo's clothes.
It all came to a head on October 30th. The Great Hall was decorated for the impending Halloween feast, but the atmosphere near the marble staircase was anything but festive. Just as Echo reached the landing before dinner, a complex, layered curse hit him. It wasn't a splash of water or a tripping jinx. His robes were suddenly transfigured into a heavy, suffocating suit of leaden chains that pulled him to his knees, while a powerful Langlock glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth. To top it off, a localized Sonorus amplified the sound of his ragged, struggling breathing for the entire hallway to hear.
James and Sirius stood above him, laughing as Echo slumped against the stone, the weight of the chains bruising his shoulders. Lily burst through the crowd, her face a mask of absolute horror. She slashed her wand through the air, barking the counter-charms until the leaden weight dissolved into tattered silk and the silence returned. She knelt beside Echo, who was shaking, his eyes squeezed shut as he clutched his satchel—the only thing he had managed to keep from the dirt.
"That's it. I'm going to Dumbledore," Lily hissed, her voice trembling as she helped him sit up. She looked at Echo, her heart breaking at the sight of his total submission. "Echo, why? Why do you let them do this? You could flatten them in a second! You've fought dragons and hags! Why won't you just fight back?"
Echo opened his eyes, the charcoal gray of his hair finally shifting to a weak, watery violet. He looked at her, his voice a low, broken rasp. "Because I deserve it, Lily."
"No one deserves this!" she cried.
"I do," Echo insisted, a single tear tracking through the soot on his cheek. "I acted recklessly. I let my grief turn me into something monstrous. I destroyed whatever bridge we had, and I almost killed James. I walked out of that maze ready to end a life because I didn't care about anything but my own pain." He looked toward the corner where the Marauders had vanished. "If I take it—if I just let them burn through their anger on me—maybe one day James will find it in him to forgive me. Or maybe he'll just get bored and forget I exist entirely. Either way... the debt has to be paid."
Lily stared at him, her hand resting on his arm, unable to find the words to argue with a boy who was using his own body as a sacrifice for a friendship he had already lost.
Lily didn't pull away; instead, she tightened her grip on his arm, her thumb tracing small, soothing circles against the tattered silk of his sleeve. "Echo, paying a debt shouldn't mean losing yourself," she whispered, her voice softening. "You aren't that monster in the maze anymore. You're the boy who fought through the pain and conquered your demons. The one who stayed behind to help me with my Transfiguration essays, the one who makes people smile in their hardest moments before a final exam. That's who you are."
Echo leaned his head back against the cool stone, taking a long, shuddering breath. He looked down at his hands, then back at Lily. For the first time in weeks, the watery violet in his hair didn't fade back into gray. Instead, a tiny, stubborn thread of lime green began to weave through the strands, glowing with a soft, persistent light. "Pandora was right," he murmured, a faint, genuine smile ghosting across his lips. "The Nargles really do try to hide the glimmers, don't they?"
He stood up slowly, brushing the dust from his knees with a newfound purpose. The oppressive weight of his guilt seemed to shift, becoming not a crushing anchor but a foundation he could build upon. "I can't change what I did, Lily. And I can't force James to move on. But I can stop waiting for the world to end. This year...It's not going to be another second hell. I'm going to make sure of it."
Lily beamed, her emerald eyes bright with a mixture of pride and relief. She hooked her arm through his, leaning her head briefly against his shoulder. "That's the spirit. Now, enough of this gloomy hallway. I'm starving, and I'm fairly certain the House Elves made that pumpkin pasty you like for the pre-Halloween feast."
Echo chuckled, the sound clear and resonant. "Pumpkin pasties? Well, if we're talking about glimmers, those definitely count."
With Shimmer settling comfortably into his usual spot on Echo's shoulder and the lime green in his hair growing brighter with every step, the two of them turned away from the staircase. They headed toward the warm, golden light spilling from the Great Hall, ready to face the evening and the year ahead together. Echo and Lily walked down the winding stone staircase toward the ground floor, their steps synchronized, the earlier tension having finally broken. The air around them felt lighter, infused with the absurd hope Echo had just voiced. He gently took her hand, their palms brushing together in a familiar, comforting gesture of friendship.
The massive oak doors of the Great Hall were already open, allowing the sounds of hundreds of students enjoying their first meal back to spill out. As they walked in, people were already at their House tables, starting to eat and talk, the din a warm, comforting blanket of noise. All the professors and the Headmaster were seated at the front, having long since finished any initial announcements.
Echo paused just inside the entrance, turning to face Lily with a sincere expression. "Thank you," he said softly, looking directly into her emerald eyes. "Truly. For everything. You really are my best friend, Lily, and I'd do anything for you."
Lily smiled, the gesture warm and genuine. "So long as it's not killing someone, I'll take that compliment fully to its word."
Echo gave a wry, almost involuntary half-shrug. "I've already done that."
Lily's smile wavered, her brow furrowing slightly. "What?"
Echo gave a sharp, dry cough, shoving his hands into his robes. "Nothing. ... never mind."
Echo paused, a contemplative look crossing his features, the charcoal in his hair settling into a thoughtful, quiet blue.
Lily, catching the shift in his mood, squeezed his hand. "What else are you thinking of?" she asked.
Echo sighed. "I'm thinking about the Ministry and whatever punishment they'll have in store for me. I did ruin the tournament at every step of the way, not even mentioning the dragon and Dementors. The only reason I haven't faced consequences is that they're too scared of me right now. But that won't last forever."
Lily sucked air between her teeth. "Merlin, I forgot about that." She changed her tone, her eyes meeting his with fierce determination. "Well, whatever happens, we'll deal with it together."
A genuine smile touched Echo's lips. He let the moment pass, taking a deep breath of the hall's familiar air—a blend of roasted chicken, pumpkin juice, and old stone. A genuine, solid feeling settled in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, this year will finally be different.
But before they could take another step toward their separate tables to join their friends, the feeling of hope was violently extinguished. A sudden, powerful, stiff wind slammed into the hall, blowing violently from the main entrance, making the thick candles on the tables flicker wildly and blowing the students' hair forward. A small, confused panic erupted, students turning in their seats, looking toward the suddenly cold entrance. When the wind died down, a thick, coiling plume of black smoke filled the area by the main entrance and exit. The smoke pulsed, then exploded outward, covering the area for a few terrifying seconds. When the smoke cleared, it revealed over a dozen figures, all clad in black robes and silver masks.
Death Eaters.
They were everywhere: standing by the main door, spread out around the floor, perched menacingly in the rafters, and lining the secondary balcony level, wrapping around the Great Hall. A wave of sheer, deafening panic erupted. Students screamed, scattering from their tables. The professors, all of them, rose instantly from the High Table, their faces grim, wands snapping into their hands as they stood before the students, ready to defend them.
Before any defensive spells could be cast, one of the Death Eaters raised a hand, and a wave of pure magical force slammed into the students. Their bodies were pushed backward, slamming into the front wall of the hall where the professors usually sat. Then, with a flash of sickly green light, an invisible force field slammed down, erecting a barrier that trapped all the students and professors inside. Everyone in the Great Hall was trapped. Everyone, that is, except for Echo, who now found himself standing alone in the center of the massive room, outside the humming, shimmering force field. Before Echo could fully understand the bizarre, terrifying solitude of his position, one of the masked figures, standing nearest the main door, addressed him.
"Are you Echo?" the Death Eater asked, their voice echoing slightly in the sudden silence.
Echo slowly turned to face the masked person, his face settling into a cool, dangerous blankness. "Maybe," he replied, his voice flat. "Who's asking?"
"The Dark Lord is asking," the Death Eater stated, his voice ringing with cold authority. "And he wants an audience with you."
Echo narrowed his eyes, the chaotic violet flaring in confusion and irritation. "Why? What does the Dark Lord even want with me? All this time, I can't tell whether he's been testing me, torturing me, or trying to kill me, and now he wants to talk?!"
The Death Eater ignored the question, cutting straight to the demand. "Do you agree to come willingly?"
"What does he even want?" Echo repeated, his patience dissolving.
"To join his ranks."
An absolute, suffocating silence gripped the Great Hall. From within the shimmering confines of the force field, hundreds of petrified students and faculty looked on as every malicious rumor and dark suspicion regarding Echo seemed to manifest in real time. Echo remained motionless for what felt like an eternity, his gaze fixed on the Death Eater, his expression a locked vault. Then, a dry, ragged cough broke from his throat. The sound quickly spiraled into a fit of full-blown, hysterical laughter that tore through the heavy atmosphere, continuing until he finally forced himself back into a state of chilling composure.
Brushing a tear from his cheek, Echo spoke with a voice low and sharp with disdain. "Do you take me for a fool?" Before the masked figure could respond, Echo's tone turned venomous. "How about this: release everyone from this barrier immediately, then crawl back to your master and tell him he can take his offers and shove them where the sun never shines!" Echo responded with a rude gesture, taking his fist and shoving it through his open hand.
From the balcony above, another Death Eater bellowed down, "You dare insult the Dark Lord with such sacrilege?"
Echo bared his teeth in a savage snarl. "Bite me."
The primary Death Eater remained disturbingly composed. "If you refuse to come willingly, we have alternative methods of persuasion."
Echo let out a sharp, mocking bark of laughter. "Oh? And what might those be?"
The Death Eater merely smiled, though the action was hidden beneath his mask. He reached out and, with a brutal, indifferent yank, held out none other than Lily by her brilliant red hair, pulling her out of the tight cluster of trapped students. Lily was limp, unconscious, her head lolling against the dark fabric of the robes.
All of Echo's composure and bravery instantly vanished. He screamed her name, a raw, panicked sound that cracked with agony. "Lily!"
"Lily! No!" James's voice tore through the shimmering barrier, sounding thin and tinny against the magical seal. He was throwing his entire weight against the force field, his face pressed so hard against the translucent surface that it distorted his features into a mask of desperate terror.
"Lily!" Severus bellowed from a few feet away, his wand arm vibrating as he poured every ounce of his magic into a piercing hex that splashed harmlessly against the barrier like rain on glass. His dark eyes were blown wide, fixed on the Death Eater's hand tangled in her hair, his usual composure completely incinerated by a white-hot, helpless panic.
Echo immediately turned angry, his hands shaking as he pointed his wand at the masked man. "Let her go! Now!"
The Death Eater held Lily higher, the single word cutting through the terror. "We'll let the Mudblood go, so long as you come with us willingly."
Echo's wand hand lowered inch by agonizing inch until the tip of the twisted black wood pointed harmlessly at the floor. He looked down, his shoulders slumped, his posture a portrait of absolute, crushed defeat. A heavy, suffocating silence reclaimed the Great Hall, broken only by the crackle of the floating candles. Then, a small, rhythmic tremor started in Echo's chest. It began as a dry, wheezing rattle, but quickly escalated into a full, hysterical, and utterly inhuman laugh. Echo threw his head back, his fingers clawing at his face, digging into his skin in a painful, desperate grip. The sound that tore from his throat was not a laugh; it was a discordant, high-pitched shriek of pure, unadulterated madness that didn't sound quite right, or even human.
The Death Eaters, seasoned veterans of terror, shifted on their feet, their silver masks glinting as they exchanged uneasy glances. Even the trapped students and professors behind the shimmering barrier recoiled, the sheer wrongness of the sound making their skin crawl. The laughter stopped as abruptly as it had begun. Echo lowered his hands, revealing red marks across his cheeks where his nails had bitten deep. He straightened his back, the lime green hope in his hair incinerated by a sudden, blinding flash of dark maroon that bled into a sickly, malevolent evil green.
"Do you have any idea who I am?" Echo asked, his voice now a low, resonant baritone that carried to every corner of the Hall. He took a slow, predatory step toward the primary Death Eater. "Do you know what I've been through? What have I lost? What have I done?" He gestured vaguely at the air, his eyes crackling with a dangerous, violet-tinged darkness. "You come here with your masks and your threats, thinking you know what power is. You think you can hold a candle to me? You're nothing but children playing with matches in the presence of an inferno."
Echo stopped, his gaze locking onto the masked figure holding Lily. A slow, terrifyingly serene smile spread across his face. "The Dark Lord didn't send you here to fetch me," he whispered, the sound cutting through the silence like a razor. "He's smarter than that. He knows exactly what I am capable of. He sent you here to die. You aren't messengers; you're lambs sent to the slaughter to see if I've still got my edge." He raised his wand, the wood vibrating with a violent, hungry hum. "And I promise you, by the time the sun rises, I will have painted every inch of this room crimson with your filthy, wretched blood."
Echo's hand moved with a fluid, predatory grace as he drew his wand, the twisted wood humming in resonance with his dark maroon hair. "I hope your Dark Lord told you about my Beast Magic," he said, his voice dropping to a chilling, resonant level, "because I'm going to show you why I am the master of it."
As the Death Eaters snapped their wands into position, the very air in the Great Hall seemed to tear open. Echo didn't just cast a spell; he tore a hole into the wild. A swarm of Doxies erupted from the shadows, a buzzing, venomous cloud that descended upon a single Death Eater, their tiny teeth sinking into every inch of exposed skin. To his left, another masked wizard was suddenly encircled by a ring of Fwoopers. Their high-pitched, discordant song began to swirl in a hypnotic, maddening loop, and the man's wand slipped from his trembling fingers as he collapsed, clawing at his ears in a fit of sudden insanity.
The carnage escalated in a heartbeat. A silver-white blur streaked across the floor as a Unicorn charged, its horn glistening before it drove straight through the chest of a Death Eater who had been reaching for his mask. From the rafters, a hulking Bugbear dropped like a lead weight, snatching another wizard into the air with massive, hairy arms and burying its fangs into his neck, draining his life-force in great, rhythmic gulps. Near the Ravenclaw table, three Kneazles became a whirlwind of fur and claws, shredding the robes of a screaming initiate, while a Hippogriff stooped from the enchanted ceiling, its razor-sharp talons carving deep, red furrows into another's back.
Echo's massive Runespoor materialized, its three heads hissing in terrifying harmony as it coiled its muscular body around a Death Eater, crushing the breath from his lungs. In the midst of the chaos, Echo moved like a dancer. He wasn't firing killing curses; instead, he sent out a flurry of weak, shimmering, stunning spells. Each hit didn't just knock a target back—it left a pulsing, dark violet mark upon them. His dark affinity magic acted as an anchor, a Brand that linked the targets together. Every time a creature or another spell hit a marked wizard, the damage resonated through the entire network of the branded.
When a group of three Death Eaters managed to blast back a pair of his summoned beasts and began to overwhelm him, Echo didn't flinch. Linked to Shimmer's future sight, he saw their spells before they were cast. He flicked his wand in a wide arc, catching all three with a single, overpowering Imperius Curse. Their eyes went blank behind their masks, and they turned their wands on their own comrades, spreading Echo's dark mark even faster as he summoned more creatures to flood the hall.
One veteran Death Eater managed to break through the front line, engaging Echo in a frantic 1v1 duel. Echo didn't play defensively. With Shimmer whispering the future in his ear, he dodged a killing curse by an inch and unleashed a brutal combination. "Depulso!" he roared, throwing the man back, followed immediately by "Accio!" to yank him back into range. "Levioso! Flipendo!" The wizard was juggled in the air, spinning helplessly. Echo finished the sequence with a cold snarl: "Glacius!" The man froze solid mid-air, a statue of absolute terror, before Echo brought his wand down in a final, crushing motion. "Descendo!" The frozen wizard slammed into the stone floor and shattered into a thousand jagged, icy fragments.
A thunderous boom abruptly halted the slaughter. The primary Death Eater, still clutching Lily by her hair, thrust his free hand upward. A massive shockwave of pure, white magical force exploded from him, radiating outward and knocking back the beasts. Echo gasped as the sudden mental strain broke his concentration, and his summoned host vanished back into the void from whence they came.
"Enough!" the Death Eater bellowed, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and genuine fear. He hauled Lily up, the tip of his wand pressed hard against her throat. "If you won't come willingly, then I'll just kill the Mudblood right here. I'll take you back to the Dark Lord after I've broken you!"
From within the shimmering, humming barrier, panic erupted. Severus shouted, "Lily! Get away from her, you filth!" his voice was a raw, desperate sound that ripped his throat, while James screamed, "Let her go, you bastard! You won't touch her!" slamming his fists against the invisible wall. Around them, the professors—Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick—were a whirlwind of focused, frantic power, pouring spell after spell into the barrier, desperately trying to breach the magical seal and intervene.
"Don't do it!" Dumbledore's voice resonated, strained with authority. "Release her, now, or you will be made to regret this!"
The Death Eater merely pressed his wand harder against Lily's pale throat. "Too late for bargaining, Headmaster."
This was the moment Echo knew he was supposed to break. He was supposed to fall to his knees, beg for her life, and surrender to save his best friend. But the past year of humiliation, of being bullied, and of allowing his guilt to crush him had burned away the last vestiges of that weak, yielding boy. He was done making himself small. He would never break again. Now, he would be the one doing the breaking.
Echo looked up, fury—cold, perfect, protective fury—settling his features into a mask of pure menace. He lowered his wand a fraction and snarled, the sound low enough to be a promise of absolute carnage. "If you harm her, I'll fucking kill all of you in one spell."
The remaining Death Eaters, momentarily regrouping near the wall, laughed. "We are the masters of Dark Magic, boy!" one scoffed, his voice ringing with cruel amusement. "What could you possibly do?"
Echo ground his teeth. A massive, oily black shadow, the Dark Beast, suddenly manifested from his feet, stretching upward until it eclipsed his silhouette. His hair, the sickly evil green, began to sway and whip around his head, as if caught in a sudden, violent gale. He threw his wand up, pointing it directly at the nearest Death Eater. "You want Dark Magic?" Echo bellowed, his voice laced with the Beast's own low resonance. "I'll show you Dark Magic!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
The green light exploded from his wand, blinding and terrifying. It struck the first Death Eater squarely in the chest, who fell instantly. But the spell didn't vanish. Instead, the green light curved sharply in a visible, unnatural arc, drawn by the pulsing dark mark Echo had imprinted earlier. The curse slammed into the next marked target, passing through him with a sickening sound, then curling again to find the next. The Death Eater holding Lily hostage realized, too late, what was happening. He hadn't waited around to fully understand the deadly chain reaction of Echo's dark marks; he knew the curse was moving, and he was next. He let out a choked cry, dropping the unconscious Lily to the stone floor, and spun on his heel to flee.
But the spell was too fast. It took out the remaining Death Eaters in rapid, terrifying succession. The Killing Curse, directed by Echo's dark affinity, screamed across the Great Hall, relentlessly pursuing the final, panicking figure. Just as the Death Eater looked back, trying to cast a desperate shield charm, he saw the face of Echo—overshadowed by the massive, snarling Dark Beast and framed by the blinding green light of the spell. The curse hit. He fell dead onto the ground like all the rest, his silver mask clattering against the stone.
Echo stood alone in the center of the hall, breathing heavily, the air thick with the residue of powerful, lethal magic. The terrifying evil green receded from his hair, washing away until it returned to its quiet, subdued charcoal state. With the last Death Eater dead, the massive magical wall that had sealed off the students and staff finally failed. It shimmered, crackled, and dissipated, releasing the hundreds of students and professors trapped within.
Echo expected noise. He expected a rush of movement, cries of relief, and the thunder of running footsteps. But the Great Hall remained utterly silent. The only sound was the scuff of leather shoes as Severus rushed past him. Severus didn't spare Echo a glance; his eyes were fixed entirely on Lily. He reached her, gathered her limp, unconscious body into his arms, and cradled her against his chest, frantically trying to shake her awake.
This unnerved Echo, not the sight of Severus—but the silence in a room that moments before had held hundreds. He turned slowly and looked back at where the students and staff were once trapped. They were all standing there now, released, but frozen in fear, staring not at the fallen Death Eaters, but directly at him.
Echo's chest felt hollow, the adrenaline draining away, replaced by a sickening cold. He took a hesitant step toward the crowd, his wand still loosely held at his side. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice suddenly small, confused. "You're safe now. The Death Eaters are dead."
As he spoke, he unconsciously raised his wand arm slightly, a natural gesture of movement. The effect was immediate and devastating. A collective gasp tore through the hundreds of people. Several younger students shrieked, pressing themselves harder against the wall, and the adults—the older students and even some of the professors—flinched violently, recoiling from the sight of the weapon that had just ended a dozen lives with lethal precision. Echo's stomach twisted with a sharp spike of pure anxiety. He looked from his wand to the terrified faces, his confusion mounting.
"What have you done, Echo?"
The question was firm, laced with shock and censure. It came from Professor McGonagall, who stood at the front of the faculty line, her face pale, her lips pressed into a thin, tight line.
Echo stared at her, genuinely baffled. "I just saved you, all of you," he said, indicating the terrified students with a flick of his eyes, then gesturing to the crumpled bodies of the Death Eaters. "That's what I did."
Before McGonagall could respond, a terrified, hysterical voice sliced through the tension. It was a fifth-year Hufflepuff boy, trembling violently. "He used Dark Magic!" the student screamed. "He's a Dark Wizard!"
Echo felt a dangerous, hot surge of anger mixed with a deep sense of injustice. "I used Dark Magic to save your lives!" he shot back, his voice rising, his eyes blazing. "If I hadn't, who's to say they wouldn't have closed that force field and crushed you all, or held it until all the air was gone? I just saved you, all of you, and Lily! Does that count for nothing in the face of uncertainty?"
But no one shared his sentiment. No one spoke up to defend him. The fear in their eyes was absolute, overriding all reason or gratitude. The sight of his lone, lethal power outweighed the fact that they were alive because of it.
His self-control snapped. "You ungrateful rats should be thanking me!" Echo roared, pointing his wand at the fearful mass.
The shout sent them over the edge. More students screamed, stumbling over each other to back away from him, their fear translating into raw terror. Before anyone could say another word, the atmosphere changed again. A sudden, synchronized pounding echoed from the main oak doors and the secondary side entrances of the Great Hall. The doors burst inward, flooding the hall with dozens of Aurors. They were clad in their signature crimson robes, their wands pointed in unison at a single target: Echo.
"Stand down, boy! Drop your wand and surrender!" one of the lead Aurors shouted, his voice amplified by magic.
Echo felt a wave of nausea. He scanned the room—the hostile red robes, the terrified, judgmental faces of his peers, the professors standing rigid and cold. He felt sick, betrayed. His mind raced for an explanation, but only one cold, logical possibility fit the evidence.
He looked at the students and staff, his voice cracking with a mix of despair and furious realization. "This was a setup," he said, the words barely a whisper, yet everyone heard them. "You set me up, didn't you?" His voice gained volume, hardening into a razor edge. "All of this—the Death Eaters breaking into Hogwarts, the targeted attack on my friend, forcing me into using Dark Magic—it was all a setup to get rid of me."
He raised a trembling finger, pointing it accusatorily at the crowd. "You all hate me that much that you did this to get rid of me? Am I so despised by you people that you'd go this far?"
He scanned the faces, desperately searching for a single defender.
Severus was still kneeling by Lily, his head bent over her, oblivious to the drama, concerned only with the faint rise and fall of her chest. In the back of the crowd, Frank, Amos, and Alice were trapped, their faces white with horror, unable to fight their way through the paralyzing fear and the mass of students to reach him. Pandora was there too, her wide eyes locked on him, but she was too far to shout.
Echo searched for Remus Lupin. Surely, after all Echo had done for him—protecting his secret, covering for him during full moons, even killing that monster hunter from France for him—surely Remus would remember and defend him. But when their eyes met, Echo saw none of that history. He saw only profound fear, mixed with a chilling cowardice, and Remus quickly looked away. James and the other Marauders wouldn't defend him now; they had seen him use Dark Magic before, but never with this level of finite, lethal control. Echo dropped his head. It was not a gesture of defeat, but of quiet, focused rage. His hands squeezed his wand so tightly that the twisted black wood dug into his palms, making his skin tear. Warm, bright blood dripped onto the stone floor. From the spreading crimson stain, small, angry sparks of crimson flame sprouted.
"I said, drop your wand and surrender!" the Auror repeated, taking a step forward.
Echo slowly brought his head up. His face was tear-streaked, but his eyes were set with a cold, controlled fury. "No," he said.
He whipped his wand toward the ground. A plume of thick, noxious red smoke immediately erupted from the floor, billowing outward. Dozens of Aurors, trained to expect an attack, simultaneously thrust their wands forward, shouting, "Protego!" as shimmering shields appeared.
Through the thickening smoke, a titanic, four-horned silhouette emerged. Echo sat atop the back of Hellga the Graphorn. The massive beast reared up, its bellowing roar vibrating the very stone of the hall, and it charged—horns first—straight toward the main doors. The Aurors scrambled, many of them ducking out of the way as the creature smashed through the entrance, tearing through the air and charging out of the large front doors of Hogwarts. It roared one final time, a sound of wild, untamed freedom, and then charged off into the dark, protective shadows of the Forbidden Forest with Echo clinging to its back.
A moment later, the Aurors broke their defensive stance and sprinted after them, flooding out of the broken doors in pursuit. With the threat gone and the chase on, the spell of silence was finally broken. Panic exploded. Students began screaming and rushing for the exits. The professors and Headmaster Dumbledore moved quickly, shouting commands to calm and collect the students, directing them to take refuge in their common rooms. At the same time, Madam Pomfrey rushed forward, her face grim, to assess the still-unconscious Lily.