A few hours later, in the pale pre-dawn light that filtered through the high castle windows, Lily and Severus were walking in a state of tense, exhausted silence down the third-floor corridor. Their frantic, separate searches had yielded nothing, and they were returning to the Slytherin dungeon, defeated. Lily's eyes were red-rimmed from tears and lack of sleep; Severus's posture was rigid, a mask of grim frustration. As they passed the imposing oak doors of the Library, a sudden, high-pitched shriek of triumph cut through the quiet.
"I got you now, you horrible poltergeist!"
This was followed instantly by a muffled, furious sound, like a swarm of angry bees trapped in a heavy jar.
"*Set me free! Set me free, you old hag! This is against all poltergeist law!*" Peeves's voice was unmistakable, though unnaturally subdued.
Lily and Severus exchanged a look of pure bewilderment. Poltergeists were untamable, uncontainable forces of nature. They pushed the heavy doors open and slipped inside.
Madam Pince, the formidable librarian, was standing in the center aisle, her hair slightly askew, a look of unholy satisfaction plastered on her face. In her hands, she held a shimmering, transparent glass bottle about the size of a wine carafe. Trapped inside it was a miniature, furiously writhing Peeves, his bright clothing and face flattened against the interior glass like a moth struggling against a pane.
Severus, momentarily forgetting their greater crisis, was the first to speak. His voice was a low, astonished rasp. "How on earth did you manage that? Poltergeists can't be contained by anything."
Madam Pince sniffed, adjusting her spectacles with a triumphant air. "Anything but this," she said, holding the bottle up for them to inspect. The struggling poltergeist inside began furiously drumming against the glass, making a sound like distant thunder.
"Is that a Ghost Bottle?" Lily asked, stepping closer. "Used for capturing specters?"
"It is," Madam Pince confirmed. "But this one was designed, quite by accident, to hold poltergeists, at least for a short time. It was actually made by sheer accident a few years back by the one nice boy you two call a friend. Echo."
Lily's eyes widened with sudden recognition. "I heard about that last year. He was taking the ghost bottle test with Professor Flitwick and found out his bottles could hold peeves for a whole school period."
"Indeed," the librarian said, holding the bottle tight. "I caught the beast trying to abscond with some sensitive books. I thought I had run out of the bottles the boy made, but I found one left. This is my last one."
"*No, she didn't!*" Peeves argued, his voice a buzzing whine from within the glass. "*Peeves stole all of them so Old Pince couldn't do this! Where did she get the extra? Peeves ask you! Where?!*"
Madam Pince looked down at the bottle with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Well, I don't know, and I'm certainly not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Now, tell me what you did with that book, you horrible specter!"
Peeves, in a final, futile gesture of defiance, turned his head into a terrifying, equine parody. "Peeves thought you didn't look horses in the mouth, and I don't have it!" he said, his ghostly lips blowing a massive, wet raspberry at her.
Before the librarian could argue with the trapped poltergeist, Lily and Severus were already looking at one another, a cold, sickening realization dawning in their eyes. They had both arrived at the same terrifying thought.
"What kind of book did Peeves take?" Lily asked, her voice tight and shaky.
Peeves instantly insisted he didn't take it, but Madam Pince cut him off with a glare that was enough to make the poltergeist momentarily silent.
She turned to the two students, her expression now serious. "I came upon some very illegal books on Dark Magic recently, so I collected, held them in the Restricted Section, and made a call to the Ministry to come and properly lock them up. The missing one is Morte Vitae. It's a book on raising the dead." She assured them, "It was just a guide to creating several different kinds of Undead, including Inferi. Why do you ask? And why do you two look so pale?"
Severus and Lily looked at one another, the unspoken horror hanging thick in the air.
"No reason, Madam Pince," Severus said, his voice flat and hurried. "Just curiosity. We have to go. Have a nice day."
Severus clamped a hand onto Lily's arm and swiftly whisked them both out of the library, leaving Peeves to beg them for release from the confines of the ghost bottle, his muffled pleas unheard by the retreating students.
Severus didn't wait until they were completely out of the library's range before he whirled around, his eyes dark with frantic worry. He gripped Lily's arm tighter, his voice a low, intense hiss. "Lily, you're thinking what I'm thinking, aren't you?"
Lily's face was pale, her emerald eyes wide and fixed on the fear in his. She shook her head violently, the denial a desperate plea. "I really hope not, Sev. I really hope not, but we can't afford to think of this as a coincidence. Not now. Not after the tower. This isn't a random prank. We have to find Echo, and we have to find him now."
Severus released her arm, running a hand through his perpetually greasy hair, his mind racing through the logic of their crisis. "But where, Lily? Where in the school would Echo go to perform such a feat of dark magic? It requires space, materials, and absolute privacy. He wouldn't risk doing it here in the castle. It's too exposed."
The question, however, was rhetorical. Before the words had fully left his mouth, a chilling, shared certainty settled between them, both students slowly turned their gazes toward the nearest window—one of the tall, arched windows that lined the corridor—and looked out into the pale, pre-dawn light. In the distance, framed by the gothic arches of the castle, lay the black, dense, and utterly silent silhouette of the Forbidden Forest. It was the only place vast enough, private enough, and wild enough to contain the kind of transgression Echo was now determined to commit.
Minutes later, the two of them slipped through a secret passage, moving away from the safety of the castle and into the deeper, starless black of the Forbidden Forest. They pushed through the tangle of undergrowth, their wands casting twin beams of Lumos, but the oppressive darkness swallowed the light. Every tree looked the same, every thicket a dead end. They called his name, their voices tight with fear, but only the cold wind answered.
"We can't find him, Sev," Lily gasped, pulling a thorny vine from her hair. "We have no idea where to look. It's too big. He could be anywhere."
Severus wiped a trickle of sweat from his temple, his face pale. "We just have to keep going. We have to…"
His words cut off as a sound tore through the silence of the woods—a low, unnatural moan, a sorrowful, drawn-out cry that sounded less like a creature and more like the wail of a tormented soul. The sound was immediately followed by a blinding, sickly green flash of light that momentarily illuminated the trees ahead.
"That's it," Severus hissed, his eyes wide. "A dark spell. Come on!"
They broke into a frantic run, pushing through the final barrier of thick, thorny bushes and stumbling into a small, desolate clearing. In the center stood an ancient, abandoned stone well, its rim cracked and overrun with moss.
The scene was chilling: a circle of tall, guttering black candles surrounded the well, casting a flickering, ritualistic glow. A massive, stolen book, its leather cover gleaming ominously, lay open on the ground, pages held down by a dark, smooth stone. Echo stood with his back to them, his threadbare robes limp on his now-gaunt frame. He was holding his arms high above the well, his chest heaving, a terrifying, cracked LAUGH tearing from his throat.
"I've done it! I've done it!" he exclaimed, the sound raw and manic. "It worked! It finally worked!"
Lily and Severus froze at the edge of the clearing. The terrifying sight of the candles, the book, and the deranged euphoria on their friend's back was profoundly unsettling. After a moment, Lily took a small, tentative step forward, her voice trembling. "Echo?"
He whipped his head around, the movement too fast, too desperate. His face was streaked with dirt and tears, and his eyes, still red-rimmed, were alight with a terrifying, wild triumph. His hair was a blinding, chaotic mix of all his colors, but dominated by a sickly, malignant yellow-green—the color of dangerous, reckless obsession.
"Lily! Severus!" he cried, a wide, desperate smile splitting his face. "You're here, perfect. You're just in time to see my greatest achievement!"
Severus took a hesitant step beside Lily, his wand hand instinctively tightening. "What achievement, Echo?" His voice was low, thick with mounting dread.
Echo didn't answer. He turned back to the well, reaching his arms into the deep, black shadow of the stone opening. "I've done it," he said, his voice dropping to a gentle, beatific whisper. "I brought Sniffles back."
Lily's breath hitched. "You what?"
Echo turned to them fully, his smile radiant with a mad, pure love. He repeated himself, holding up the small, dark creature in his hands, cradling it like a precious, newfound jewel. "I brought Sniffles back from the dead. Look."
Lily saw the familiar black fur, the small, pointed snout, the tiny claws. But her relief evaporated instantly. The creature was lifeless, its limbs limp, its eyes a vacant, milky white, and its once-velvety fur was damp and slick, as if dragged from a cold, foul grave. It was a macabre, puppet-like parody of the Niffler he had loved—a newly created, sickening Inferius.
A piercing, guttural SCREAM tore from Lily's throat. She instantly turned and buried her face into Severus's shoulder, shaking violently, her hands instinctively flying up to cover her ears. Severus, his face contorted in absolute horror, lifted a trembling hand to his mouth, his eyes fixed on the foul, reanimated corpse.
"Bloody hell," Severus choked out, the words barely a whisper. "Echo, what have you done?"
Echo, completely oblivious to the terror and revulsion radiating from his friends, merely hugged the Inferi Niffler tighter to his chest, the sick smile not fading. "I brought him back so I don't have to carry the box anymore," he said, his voice soft and clear, devoid of all the guilt and grief that had consumed him. "And I don't have to be sad anymore. He's fine now, Sev. He's all mine."
Severus opened his mouth, trying to find the words to explain the monstrous nature of his action, to argue with the deep, twisted logic of his grief. But Echo moved past them, the Inferi clutched close.
"I'm going back to play with him," Echo said, his voice sing-song, filled with an eerie, childish joy. "And catch up on lost time with Sniffles, bye guys."
Echo, still smiling that unnerving, radiant smile, didn't wait for a response. He turned and began to skip out of the clearing, the small, limp body of the Inferi Niffler cradled possessively against his chest. His footing was light, his movement almost giddy, a grotesque parody of childish joy that completely ignored the dark magic he had just performed. His voice, singing a muffled, cheerful tune to the dead creature in his arms, faded quickly into the dense silence of the Forbidden Forest. The air he left behind felt instantly cleaner, but the space where he had stood was now thick with an indelible sense of violation.
The flickering black candles continued to burn, their eerie light highlighting the open, dreadful pages of Morte Vitae and the cracked, moss-covered well. Lily finally lifted her head from Severus's shoulder, her face streaked with tears, the look of terror in her emerald eyes slowly hardening into desperate, frantic resolve. She let out a ragged, trembling gasp, the sound echoing in the stillness. She turned and grabbed Severus by the front of his robes, her hands clamping onto the fabric with a viselike grip. She pulled him closer, forcing his horrified gaze to meet hers.
"Sev," she choked out, her voice a raw, desperate whisper. "Sev, what do we do? We have to do something. We can't—we can't let him keep that! He's gone completely mad! He just… he just created a miniature Inferius! What do we do now?"
Severus, who had not moved, still stared at the spot where Echo had vanished. His jaw worked, opening and closing in the empty silence like a fish pulled from the water, his mind utterly incapable of processing a solution. The logical part of his brain, the part that dealt with rules, potions, and quantifiable magic, had shut down in the face of this grotesque transgression.
He finally managed to articulate a sound, a rasping, broken confession of his failure.
"I… I don't know," Severus whispered, his voice empty, his eyes wide and vacant. He shook his head, the terror in his expression absolute. "I really don't know, Lily. I honestly don't know."