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The Ravenclaw dormitory was quiet save for the soft breathing of sleeping boys and the occasional rustle of wind against the tower windows. Severus lay awake, the weight of his mother's grimoire pressing against his thoughts even as it rested safely in his trunk. The discovery of the Phantom Step had shifted something fundamental in his understanding of this timeline. It wasn't just his own choices diverging; external forces—perhaps his mother, perhaps something larger—were altering the game.
He turned onto his side, staring at the blue velvet curtains surrounding his bed. Sleep eluded him, his mind too restless with questions. Why had Eileen given him the grimoire now? What did she know—or suspect—about his changed nature? And the Shadow Roads… Could they truly offer a way to outmaneuver Voldemort's defenses, or were they a trap, as the System's warning suggested?
[TEMPORAL ANOMALY DETECTION: IN PROGRESS]
[ANALYZING EXTERNAL INFLUENCES]
The glowing text flickered briefly, offering no answers but confirming his suspicion: something beyond his control was at play. He needed more information—about the grimoire, about this timeline, about the System itself.
Severus sat up, decision made. Sleep could wait. He retrieved the grimoire and his wand, casting another silencing charm around his bed before settling against the headboard with the book open on his lap. The faint luminescence of his wand tip illuminated the pages as he flipped past the Phantom Step section, searching for anything else that deviated from his memory.
A few pages later, he found it—a section titled "Echoes of Intent: A Prince Theory on Resonance." The handwriting was his mother's, but tighter, more urgent than usual, as if written under pressure.
The principle of magical resonance states that intent leaves echoes—imprints on objects, places, and even people. Our family discovered that these echoes can be amplified, traced, or redirected with the right incantations. The Ministry dismissed this as theoretical nonsense, but Anastasia Prince used it to locate a stolen relic in 1769, proving its efficacy. I have refined her work.
Spell: "Revelio Echo" – Wand movement: counterclockwise spiral ending in a sharp upward flick. Incantation: "Resonara Revelio." Focus on a specific intent to reveal its echo's source or path. Warning: Overuse risks fracturing one's own intent, leading to unpredictable magical feedback.
Severus traced the wand movement with his finger, committing it to memory. This was another spell he hadn't encountered in his first life—not in the grimoire, not in any text. It could potentially reveal the origins of enchanted objects, track spells back to their casters, or even locate items tied to specific intentions—like Horcruxes, imbued with Voldemort's intent to defy death.
[NEW ABILITY DETECTED: REVELIO ECHO]
[STRATEGIC VALUE: MODERATE TO HIGH]
[CAUTION: LONG-TERM EFFECTS UNKNOWN]
The System's assessment aligned with his own. This spell offered a subtler advantage than the Phantom Step, less physically taxing but equally unorthodox. If he could master it without drawing attention, it might become a key tool in his mission.
He closed the grimoire, mind buzzing with possibilities. The resonance theory suggested a way to investigate the System itself—if it was tied to some magical intent, perhaps he could trace its echo back to its "Creator." But that would require practice, and he couldn't risk experimenting in the dormitory with four other boys sleeping feet away.
Instead, he pulled a sheet of parchment from his bag, dipped a quill in ink, and began a letter to his mother:
Dear Mother,
Hogwarts is as you described—grand, overwhelming, and full of secrets. I was sorted into Ravenclaw, which may surprise you given our talks of Slytherin. The hat saw something different in me this time, and I trust its judgment.
The grimoire is a treasure beyond what I expected. I've begun studying it, and I'm curious why you chose to give it to me now rather than later, as I assume you once intended. Did something change? Your notes are more extensive than I imagined—family secrets I never knew we carried. I'll honor your trust and use this knowledge wisely.
Write soon. I hope you're managing after… everything.
Your son,
Severus
He folded the letter, sealing it with a simple charm rather than wax—he had no crest here, no pretensions of grandeur. Tomorrow, he'd send it via the Owlery, though he'd need to borrow a school owl; he hadn't the funds for his own.
As he extinguished his wandlight and slid the grimoire back into his trunk, the System flashed a final message:
[COMMUNICATION INITIATED: EILEEN SNAPE]
[EXPECTED RESPONSE WINDOW: 2-4 DAYS]
[NEW OBJECTIVE UNLOCKED: CONFIRM TIMELINE DISCREPANCIES]
Severus lay back, exhaustion finally overtaking him. His last thought before sleep claimed him was of Lily's smile at breakfast—a beacon in the storm of uncertainties he now navigated.
Morning arrived with the chime of enchanted bells echoing through Ravenclaw Tower. Severus dressed quickly, joining the stream of students heading to breakfast. The Great Hall buzzed with second-day energy—first-years still awestruck, older students settling into routines.
Lily waved him over to the Gryffindor table again, where she sat with Mary Macdonald, a cheerful girl with curly brown hair. Elara was already there, a star chart spread beside her plate despite the early hour.
"Morning, Sev!" Lily greeted, pushing a plate of toast toward him. "Sleep well?"
"Well enough," he replied, taking a seat. "You?"
"Hardly," she laughed. "Mary snores like a troll with a head cold."
"I do not!" Mary protested, though her grin suggested she didn't mind the teasing. "You're the one muttering about Charms in your sleep."
Elara looked up from her chart. "Did you dream about incantations or wand movements? It might indicate subconscious processing of the material."
Lily blinked at her. "Er… I don't remember. Probably both?"
Severus hid a smirk behind his tea. Elara's relentless curiosity was proving both useful and mildly exasperating.
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of owls swooping through the hall, dropping letters and packages. None came for Severus—he hadn't sent his letter yet—but a small parcel landed in front of Elara, wrapped in plain brown paper.
She opened it with precise movements, revealing a thin book titled Arithmantic Patterns in Celestial Motion. A note slipped from the pages, written in a meticulous hand:
Elara—Thought you'd find this useful. Latest from the department's archives. Stay sharp. —Father
"From your dad?" Lily asked, peering at the book.
"Yes," Elara said, her tone neutral but her fingers lingering on the note. "He sends things occasionally. Mostly academic texts."
Severus noted the flicker of emotion she quickly suppressed. Her father's neglect seemed a sore point, masked by her scholarly demeanor. It was a vulnerability he could exploit if needed—or a commonality that might strengthen their alliance.
After breakfast, they headed to Defense Against the Dark Arts, their first class with Slytherin. The professor, a wiry man named Quirinius Vex, was new to Severus—another timeline shift, as he remembered a dour woman named Galatea Merrythought teaching this subject in his original first year.
Vex began with a brisk lecture on basic hexes and their counters, his voice sharp and impatient. "Magic isn't all sparkles and sweets, children. The world's full of dangers—some human, some not. You'll learn to defend yourselves or you'll regret it."
The practical portion involved casting Protego, the shield charm. Severus paired with Lily, moderating his casting to match her progress, while Elara worked with a Slytherin girl who seemed more interested in gossiping than practicing.
Across the room, Lucius Malfoy watched from where he stood as a fifth-year assistant, ostensibly helping younger students but clearly assessing them. His pale eyes lingered on Severus longer than necessary, a silent reminder of yesterday's conversation.
"Focus, Sev," Lily chided as his shield flickered. "You're miles away."
"Sorry," he muttered, reinforcing the charm with a sharper flick. It solidified into a faint shimmer, earning a nod from Vex as he passed.
"Good form, Snape," the professor barked. "Five points to Ravenclaw. Evans, tighten your wrist—sloppiness invites disaster."
Lily adjusted her grip, her next Protego noticeably stronger. "He's strict," she whispered once Vex moved on.
"He's practical," Severus replied. "Defense isn't a subject for half-measures."
After class, as they packed their bags, Malfoy approached again, this time with a younger Slytherin in tow—a boy with sharp features and dark hair Severus vaguely recognized as Regulus Black, Sirius's younger brother.
"Snape," Malfoy greeted smoothly. "A word?"
Lily and Elara paused, but Severus waved them on. "I'll be fine. Meet you in the library."
Once alone, Malfoy gestured to Regulus. "This is Regulus Black, first-year like yourself. I thought you two might find common ground—both from old families with… nuanced histories."
Regulus nodded politely, his expression guarded. "My mother speaks highly of the Prince line. She says your family understood power in ways most forgot."
Severus kept his face impassive. "My mother's the witch, not me. I'm here to learn, not to trade on heritage."
Malfoy's smile tightened. "Modesty doesn't suit you, Snape. Talent like yours—evident even in a simple shield charm—deserves recognition. Slytherin could still offer you a place among us, house tables notwithstanding."
"I'm content where I am," Severus said firmly, meeting Malfoy's gaze. "Ravenclaw suits my interests."
Regulus tilted his head, studying him. "You're not what I expected."
"Expectations are often wrong," Severus replied, turning to leave.
Malfoy called after him, voice low. "Think on it, Snape. Power respects no house boundaries."
Severus didn't respond, but the encounter lingered as he joined Lily and Elara in the library. Regulus Black was an unknown quantity—less brash than Sirius, but potentially more dangerous given his family's pureblood fanaticism. Another variable to monitor.
[TEMPORAL CONTACT: REGULUS BLACK]
[THREAT LEVEL: LOW TO MODERATE]
[RECOMMENDATION: OBSERVE WITHOUT ENGAGEMENT]
In the library, they settled at a table near the Restricted Section—close enough that Severus could feel the faint hum of dark magic from forbidden texts, a sensation both comforting and unsettling. He pulled out his Charms notes, pretending to study while his mind churned.
"Sev, what did that Slytherin want?" Lily asked, keeping her voice low under Madam Pince's watchful eye.
"To recruit me," he answered honestly. "They see potential in my mother's bloodline."
Elara looked up from her Arithmancy book. "They're building a faction. My father says it's been happening for years—purebloods and half-bloods with 'useful' ancestry, preparing for something."
"Something?" Lily frowned.
Severus hesitated, then said, "Power. Influence. Control. It's how their world works."
Lily shivered. "That's grim."
"It's reality," Elara countered. "Magic's a tool. How it's used depends on who wields it."
The conversation shifted to homework, but Severus's thoughts remained on Malfoy's overtures and the grimoire's secrets. That night, after dinner, he slipped away to an empty classroom he'd scouted during their earlier exploration—a third-floor room overlooking the lake, dusty and unused.
Locking the door with a basic Colloportus, he cast a shadow across the floor using his wand's light, then drew it again, focusing on the Phantom Step instructions. Wand raised, he pictured the shadow on the opposite wall, whispered, "Umbra Passus," and stepped forward.
Coldness enveloped him, sharp and biting, as if plunging into icy water. For a heartbeat, he was nowhere—then he stumbled out of the far shadow, knees trembling, breath fogging in the still air.
[PHANTOM STEP: INITIAL SUCCESS]
[PHYSICAL TOLL DETECTED: MINOR]
[RECOMMENDATION: INCREMENTAL TRAINING]
Severus steadied himself against the wall, exhilarated despite the chill lingering in his bones. It worked. The Shadow Roads were real, accessible, and his alone—for now.
He returned to his starting point the same way, the cold less shocking the second time. Three more short jumps left him dizzy but functional, his shadow unchanged—no sign of the consumption his great-uncle had suffered.
Satisfied, he extinguished his wand and slipped back to the tower, answering the eagle's riddle ("What has hands but cannot clap?"—a clock) with ease. In bed, he reflected on the day's progress: a new spell, a mastered technique, and a clearer picture of the players around him.
The System glowed faintly as he drifted off:
[DAILY EVALUATION: SIGNIFICANT PROGRESS]
[MISSION STATUS: ADVANCING]
[WARNING: TIMELINE STABILITY DECREASING]
[PRIMARY DIRECTIVE: UNCHANGED]
Severus welcomed sleep this time, dreaming not of death or loss, but of shadows stretching across a board where every move was his to make.