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The next morning, Severus woke with a faint ache in his limbs, a lingering echo of the Phantom Step's toll. He dressed quietly, the dormitory still cloaked in pre-dawn silence, and tucked his mother's grimoire deeper into his trunk. The Shadow Roads had proven accessible, but the Revelio Echo spell intrigued him more today—it promised answers, not just movement.
At breakfast, he joined Lily and Elara at the Ravenclaw table, noting the subtle shift in dynamics. Lily's warmth drew smiles from nearby Ravenclaws, while Elara's presence lent their trio an air of intellectual credibility. Severus, positioned between them, felt oddly balanced—neither fully the outcast of his first life nor the manipulative spy, but something new, still forming.
"Post's late today," Lily remarked, glancing at the enchanted ceiling where no owls yet swooped.
"Probably a storm over Hogsmeade," Elara said, not looking up from her Arithmancy notes. "Disrupts their flight patterns."
Severus nodded absently, his thoughts on the letter he'd sent to Eileen yesterday. He didn't expect a reply so soon, but the uncertainty gnawed at him. What had prompted her to give him the grimoire now? Had she sensed the System's influence, or was there another force at play?
[COMMUNICATION STATUS: PENDING]
[EXPECTED RESPONSE WINDOW: 1-3 DAYS]
The System's reminder was unhelpful but expected. He pushed it aside, focusing on the day's schedule: History of Magic with Hufflepuff, followed by Herbology with Gryffindor. Both offered opportunities to observe his classmates—potential allies, threats, or pawns in the larger game.
History of Magic, taught by the ghostly Professor Binns, was as soporific as Severus remembered. While Lily scribbled notes and Elara sketched runic diagrams in her margins, Severus let his mind wander, cataloging faces at the Hufflepuff table. A round-faced boy—likely Justin Finch-Fletchley's ancestor—caught his eye, radiating earnestness that could be useful if cultivated. Across the room, Regulus Black sat alone, his posture stiff, eyes fixed on Binns as if decoding a puzzle. Severus filed that away: Regulus was observant, perhaps more so than his brother.
[CONTACT ANALYSIS: REGULUS BLACK]
[BEHAVIOR: ISOLATED, ANALYTICAL]
[STRATEGIC VALUE: MODERATE]
Herbology brought a welcome change, the greenhouses humid and alive with the scent of earth. Professor Sprout, younger but no less enthusiastic than in Severus's memories, introduced them to basic pruning techniques for Fluxweed. Working beside Lily, Severus noted James Potter and Sirius Black at a nearby table, their laughter grating as they "accidentally" flicked soil at Peter Pettigrew.
"Idiots," Lily muttered, snipping a stem with more force than necessary.
"They're testing boundaries," Severus said quietly. "Seeing who reacts."
Elara, paired with a Gryffindor girl across the aisle, glanced over. "Classic group dynamics. Establish dominance early. Predictable."
Severus suppressed a smirk. Elara's clinical lens was proving as sharp as his own, though less tainted by personal grudges. He focused on his plant, deliberately underperforming to avoid Sprout's notice—unlike Potions, Herbology had never been his strength, and he saw no need to stand out here.
After class, as they washed soil from their hands, Lily nudged him. "You're quiet today, Sev. Everything alright?"
"Just thinking," he replied, offering a half-smile. "Hogwarts takes some getting used to."
She nodded, accepting the excuse, but her green eyes lingered on him with that unsettling perceptiveness. "If you need to talk, I'm here. Always."
The sincerity in her voice stirred something painful in Severus's chest—memories of another Lily, another life, where he'd pushed her away. "I know," he said softly. "Thanks."
That evening, Severus found solitude in the same abandoned third-floor classroom. The risk of practicing the Phantom Step again so soon felt unwise, so he turned to Revelio Echo. If it worked as described, it could reveal hidden intents—perhaps even the System's origins.
He began with something simple: the origami lily he'd given Lily, which she'd left with him for "safekeeping" during Herbology's messier tasks. Holding it in his palm, he focused on his intent from that day by the river—protection, connection, a promise to change fate. Wand raised, he traced the counterclockwise spiral, ending with a sharp flick, and whispered, "Resonara Revelio."
A faint hum filled the air, like a plucked string. The lily glowed softly, threads of silvery light spiraling from it, forming a hazy image: himself and Lily by the riverbank, her laughter as the paper flower bloomed white. The scene shimmered, then dissolved, leaving Severus breathless but intact.
[SPELL SUCCESS: REVELIO ECHO]
[INTENT TRACE: POSITIVE]
[NO FEEDBACK DETECTED]
Encouraged, he tried again, this time focusing on the classroom itself. Hogwarts was saturated with centuries of magic—surely some echo lingered here. He cast the spell, aiming for any intent tied to secrecy or concealment.
The hum returned, sharper now. Silver threads wove across the room, converging on a cracked floorboard near the window. Severus approached cautiously, prying it up with a nonverbal Alohomora. Beneath lay a small, dusty journal, its cover unmarked but pulsing faintly with magic.
Heart pounding, he opened it. The pages were filled with cramped, unfamiliar handwriting—notes on experimental charms, dated 1942. One entry stood out:
Chamber access confirmed. Slytherin's legacy is real, but the cost is steep. I can't let it consume me. Hiding this here—Riddle mustn't know.
Severus froze. Riddle. Tom Riddle—Voldemort's younger self—had been at Hogwarts in 1942, a fifth-year. This journal belonged to someone who'd uncovered the Chamber of Secrets, or at least its entrance, and feared Riddle's involvement.
[CRITICAL ARTIFACT DETECTED]
[TEMPORAL SIGNIFICANCE: HIGH]
[RECOMMENDATION: SECURE AND ANALYZE]
He slipped the journal into his robes, replacing the floorboard and casting a quick Obscuro to conceal his tampering. The discovery was monumental—proof that others had suspected Riddle early, perhaps even before his first Horcrux. If this journal held clues to the Chamber or Riddle's methods, it could accelerate Severus's mission to dismantle Voldemort's immortality.
But the spell's success came with a cost. His head throbbed, a dull pulse behind his eyes, and his wand hand trembled slightly. The grimoire's warning about "fracturing intent" lingered—Revelio Echo wasn't as benign as it seemed.
[PHYSICAL FEEDBACK DETECTED: MINOR]
[RECOMMENDATION: LIMIT FREQUENCY]
Severus returned to Ravenclaw Tower, the journal a heavy weight against his chest. The eagle's riddle—"What is seen in the dark but vanishes in the light?"—he answered instantly: "A dream." The door swung open, revealing a common room alive with late-night debates and scattered parchment.
Elara sat alone by a window, her star chart abandoned for a leather-bound tome. She glanced up as he entered, her blue eyes narrowing slightly.
"Late night, Snape?" she asked, tone casual but probing.
"Exploring," he replied, matching her nonchalance. "The castle's full of surprises."
"Indeed." She tilted her head, studying him. "You've got that look again—like you've found a puzzle and can't decide whether to solve it or hide it."
Severus forced a neutral smile. "You read too much into things, Vayne."
"Or just enough." She returned to her book, but the weight of her attention lingered.
Upstairs, he hid the journal in his trunk, layering it with basic wards—nothing too advanced to arouse suspicion, but enough to deter curious dormmates. Lying in bed, he reviewed the day: the spell's success, the journal's secrets, Elara's growing suspicion. Each step forward seemed to multiply the unknowns.
The System's text glowed in the darkness:
[DAILY EVALUATION: MAJOR PROGRESS]
[NEW OBJECTIVE UNLOCKED: INVESTIGATE JOURNAL]
[WARNING: TIMELINE DIVERGENCE INCREASING]
[PRIMARY DIRECTIVE: PROTECT LILY EVANS]
Severus closed his eyes, the journal's words echoing in his mind. Riddle mustn't know. He didn't know yet—not the full scope of Riddle's plans, not the journal's author, not the System's endgame. But he was closer now, threads of resonance pulling him toward answers that could reshape everything.
Tomorrow, he'd read the journal, write to Eileen again if needed, and watch Regulus Black more closely. The board was shifting faster than he'd anticipated,.