The Three Broomsticks was a cauldron of warmth and revelry, a welcome respite from the crisp Hogsmeade air. Laughter mingled with the clinking of tankards and the low hum of conversation. At a large, scarred wooden table in the corner, the Marauders and Lily Evans were in fine spirits, enjoying their Saturday afternoon. James, flushed with a healthy glow, was regaling them with a particularly exaggerated tale of a recent Quidditch practice. At the same time, Lily, her red hair gleaming in the firelight, occasionally interjected with an amused eye-roll. Remus, ever the studious one, nursed a Butterbeer, a gentle smile on his face, and Peter, unusually animated, was tapping his fingers to an unheard rhythm.
But the true center of attention, as usual, was Sirius Black. With his leather jacket slung casually over the back of his chair and his dark hair falling artfully across his eyes, he was in his element. A small crowd had gathered around him, cheering and groaning in equal measure as he systematically crushed every challenger in an impromptu arm-wrestling tournament. His face was set in a determined grin, muscles rippling effortlessly with each victory.
"Another one bites the dust!" Sirius crowed, easily pinning a burly sixth-year Ravenclaw's arm to the table with a final, decisive thud. The Ravenclaw groaned, rubbing his now-sore forearm. Sirius flexed, his eyes gleaming with competitive fire. "Whose next? Come on, don't be shy! Still, anyone out there who thinks they can take down the mighty Sirius Black?"
James laughed, taking a long swig of his Butterbeer. "Mate, I think you've pretty much beaten everyone in the place. You're undefeated, as always."
Sirius glanced around, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. "Surely there's someone else…"
"Not everyone," Peter piped up suddenly, a strange glint in his eye. He pointed a chubby finger towards the long, polished bar counter. "You haven't challenged those two Slytherins over there."
Sirius followed Peter's gaze. Two figures sat hunched over the counter, seemingly oblivious to the general merriment, their backs mostly turned. One was slightly smaller, with hair that seemed to shift colors in the flickering firelight, and the other, taller and with dark, greasy hair, was meticulously stirring his drink.
A competitive spark reignited in Sirius's eyes. He grinned, downed the rest of his Butterbeer in one gulp, and, with a confident swagger, made his way towards the bar. "Alright then," he called out, his voice booming slightly over the ambient noise. "You two at the counter! You up for a round of arm-wrestling? See if you can break my winning streak?"
The smaller figure slowly turned, his head tilted slightly. His thoughtful blue hair flickered with mischievous yellow as he fixed his hollow eyes on Sirius. "Before we get into that, Black," Echo drawled, his voice calm. "Would you like a Bowtruckle shoved in your shirt or your pants first? I'm just checking to see which option causes the least amount of damage to the Bowtruckle."
Sirius froze mid-stride, his grin faltering. His eyes widened as he finally recognized the two at the bar counter. "Echo? Severus?" he practically shrieked, his voice filled with genuine shock and disbelief. "What in Merlin's name are you two doing here?"
Severus took a slow, deliberate sip of his Butterbeer without even looking up. "We are, as you can plainly see, Black," he drawled, his voice laced with his usual disdain, "enjoying a relaxing pint of Butterbeer."
Echo then leaned back on his stool, a wide, utterly fake grin plastered across his face. His yellow hair flared with theatrical mischief. "Planning world domination, actually, Black," he said, in an obviously joking voice, then took a slow sip of his Butterbeer. "You know, the usual."
Sirius, however, wasn't amused. He threw his hands up in exasperation. "World domination? You two? What are you even doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be off somewhere, gaining allergies from perusing over dusty, ancient tomes in the Restricted Section? I thought that was your idea of a 'good time,' Echo."
Severus, finally looking up, fixed Sirius with a withering glare. "As shocking as it is, Black," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Slytherins are, in fact, allowed activities outside of their house, their inner cliques, and the dungeons. Hard to believe, I know, but we occasionally venture out into the world."
Just then, Lily, having spotted Echo and Severus, hurried over, her brow furrowed with concern. She wanted to make sure Sirius wouldn't cause any unnecessary trouble. As she approached, she noticed a small, pale golden foal, no bigger than a large dog, nestled comfortably beside Echo's stool, its head resting on his knee. Its eyes, large and intelligent, blinked slowly in the dim light.
"Echo?" Lily asked, a puzzled frown on her face. "What's up with… that?" She gestured towards the foal.
Echo, with a faint, almost tender smile, stroked the foal's silky mane. His blue hair softened to a gentle green. "This, Lily," he said, his voice unusually soft, "is an Abraxan foal. I'm watching him for Hagrid."
Sirius scoffed. "Hagrid? Since when does Hagrid have an Abraxan?"
"Apparently," Echo continued, ignoring Sirius, "he won him in a game of poker from some dude who wasn't caring for it right. So, since I'm partially an unregistered magizoologist, he asked me to watch and care for him while he sets something up to send it to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, where it can be properly cared for."
Sirius shrugged. "That's great and all, but why did you bring it to the Three Broomsticks, Echo?"
Echo sighed dramatically, his green hair flickering with exasperation. "Because, Black, I'm feeding the ungrateful little shit."
Lily blinked. "Feeding?"
Echo nodded grimly. "Apparently, Abraxans only drink alcohol. More specifically, single malt whisky."
As Echo said this, the entire pub, which had been buzzing with chatter and laughter, slowly fell silent. Every head turned, every eye fixed on Echo and the Abraxan foal. The clinking of tankards ceased, and the conversations died. A profound, almost stunned silence descended upon the Three Broomsticks.
Echo, oblivious to the sudden hush, took a long, slow drink from his Butterbeer mug, then looked up at the now-silent crowd, a deadpan expression on his face. "I wish I were making this up," he said, his voice flat, "but it's true."
James, who had been gaping, finally found his voice. "But… how does that even work?" he asked, gesturing vaguely at the foal. "It's… its metabolism? Does it get drunk? What about nutrients?"
Echo waved a hand dismissively towards the barmaid, who, still wide-eyed, mechanically refilled his mug and the foal's small, polished bucket. He took a long sip of his own Butterbeer, his blue hair flickering with profound bewilderment. "How should I know, James? In a world of magic, dragons, and unicorns, an elephant-sized, flying, herbivorous equine living completely off booze is beyond me. Even I'm drawing blanks on the logistics. It's truly a marvel of… magical inefficiency."
Lily, ever the pragmatist, chimed in, "But how did they even live in the wild before Beauxbatons domesticated them? Surely they didn't just stumble upon distilleries in the forests."
Echo, taking another sip from his newly filled mug, shrugged, his blue hair settling into a resigned green. "How should I know? Either the books are wrong, Beauxbatons is lying, or the Abraxans have been so spoiled over in France that their whole DNA is magically rewired to the point they can only subsist on single malt whisky. How Beauxbatons hasn't gone bankrupt from this is beyond me. And worst of all," he added, a frustrated scowl on his face, "I can't get this foal even to drink Butterbeer!" He then roughly shoved his mug towards the Abraxan foal's nose. "Drink, you ungrateful little beast! Drink!"
The foal whinnied, stamping its hooves and pulling its head away, a clear sign of complaint.
"Oh no, you don't!" Echo snapped, holding the mug stubbornly in place. "You'll drink this Butterbeer and like it, or you'll go hungry until you get to Beauxbatons in three days!" The foal let out a pathetic little whimper and grudgingly took a small sip, then another, its large eyes pouting dramatically.
Echo let out a long, suffering sigh, his green hair flickering with profound exasperation. He looked from the ungrateful foal to the general hubbub of the pub, then back to the Abraxan with a look of deep philosophical weariness. "Honestly," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, "why is it that every time humans domesticate something, they somehow manage to make it worse than what nature intended?"
James, ever the loyal dog-lover, scoffed. "Worse? What's so bad about it, Echo? We've got dogs because of domestication, and they're awesome!" He punctuated his point with a hearty slap to Sirius's back, making Sirius wince, then grin.
Echo took an exaggerated gulp from his mug, his blue hair flaring with a knowing, almost challenging yellow. He lowered the mug slowly, fixing James with an unblinking stare. "Say that again, James," he drawled, his voice dangerously soft, "but do it in front of a pug."
James cringed, a shudder running through him. He pictured the squashed face and wheezing breath of the small, wrinkly dog. "Ugh. Fine, fine. I hate it when you're right, Echo."
Sirius, having recovered from his shock, finally spoke. "Why don't you just buy the foal some whisky, Echo?"
Echo turned to him, his green hair flaring with indignation. "Do I look like the person who can afford to buy a baby Abraxan an entire barrel of single malt whisky, Black?"
Severus, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips, merely raised an eyebrow. "Of course, you can, Echo. You simply don't wish to part with your own money."
Echo scoffed, his green hair flickering with annoyance. "My money? Severus, this isn't my money. This is Sniffles' money. Dumbledore gives me a small allowance for necessities, and Hogwarts provides all my basic needs, so I give the coins to Sniffles to hoard." He gestured vaguely at his pocket, where a faint jingle could be heard. "If I want anything back, I have to trade him. And I don't have enough shiny buttons for enough Galleons to feed this pig with wings." He glared at the ungrateful foal, who whinnied softly in protest.
Sirius, seeing an opportunity, grinned. "Well, I might be able to help you out, Echo, if you take my deal."
Echo's green hair flared with suspicion. "I don't make deals with exhibitionists, Black. It's not worth the twenty Galleons."
Several people in the pub openly laughed or snorted at his quip, and Sirius, his face flushing with embarrassment, quickly retorted, "I mean, I want to arm wrestle you! If you win, I'll buy the baby a whole barrel of single malt whisky!"
The Abraxan foal, hearing the mention of a barrel of whisky, immediately perked up, its large eyes gleaming with excitement. It began to nudge Echo insistently with its head, whinnying eagerly.
Echo sighed, rolling his hollow eyes. "Fine," he said, giving the foal a gentle shove away. "But what do you want if you win?"
"And if I win," Sirius added, a teasing glint in his eyes, "you have to give me a kiss."
Echo's blue hair immediately flared a horrified red. "Die," he deadpanned, his voice flat.
Sirius barked out a laugh. "Relax, Echo, I'm just kidding!" Sirius's grin widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "If I win… You have to sit with us, me, James, Remus, Peter, and Lily, for the rest of the evening. And you have to put your book away."
Echo's eyes narrowed dangerously, his blue hair flaring with a furious, warning red, not wanting his peaceful afternoon with Severus to be ruined. "If that happens, I will regale you, your entire table, and the whole of the Three Broomsticks with the violently orgiastic mating rituals of Cornish Pixies, and the thousands of eggs they lay, seeing as all of them are hermaphrodites."
A sudden, uncomfortable silence fell over the surrounding crowd. Nearly the entire pub stared at Sirius, a collective expression of morbid curiosity and a distinct desire for him to lose this particular bet. Sirius, feeling the immense pressure, his face suddenly paler, swallowed hard. A bead of sweat trickled down Sirius's temple as he strained, his knuckles white, his arm trembling violently. Echo, his expression unreadable, held firm, his indigo hair unwavering, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips.
"I'm starting to regret this bet, Echo," Sirius replied, his voice strained.
Echo's indigo hair flared with a mocking yellow. "What's wrong, Black? Is big, bad Sirius Black, of the famous pureblood house of Black, scared of the magically inept little second-year Slytherin weirdo?"
A collective "Oooooh," rippled through the Three Broomsticks, followed by hushed murmurs and a few suppressed giggles. Sirius's face, already red from exertion, deepened to a furious crimson.
"I… I'll just put a Silencing Jinx on you," he stammered, trying to regain his composure.
Echo merely scoffed, his red hair flickering with contempt. "Only if your spellcraft is as strong as your ego, Black."
Just then, a voice from the upper level of the pub boomed, "Oh, for Merlin's sake, you two! Just kiss already!"
The pub erupted into raucous laughter. Before Echo could even register the comment, Severus, with a lightning-fast flick of his wand, hit the offender with a stunning spell. A muffled thump echoed as the person slumped over the railing.
"Thanks, Sev," Echo said, his red hair softening to a grateful blue. "Deal," he said, extending his hand. The Abraxan foal, hearing Echo's agreement, let out a joyous whinny, its small body practically vibrating with excitement at the prospect of whisky. "But if you try any dirty tricks, Black, I'm using Nibbles."
Sirius chuckled, gripping Echo's hand. "Wouldn't dream of it, Echo." He settled his elbow firmly on the scarred table, his muscles already tensing. Echo mirrored his position, his slight frame appearing almost fragile next to Sirius's broader build. Severus, now openly smirking, leaned closer.
"Careful, Echo," Severus drawled, a rare note of genuine amusement in his voice. "Black has a surprising amount of raw strength, despite his general lack of intelligence."
"And you, Severus," Sirius shot back, his grin unwavering, "are as charming as a dung bomb."
Lily and James, along with the burgeoning crowd, leaned in, eager for the spectacle. The Abraxan foal, still nudging Echo's knee, whinnied impatiently, its eyes fixed on the impending battle for its liquid dinner.
"Ready?" Sirius asked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"As I'll ever be," Echo replied, his blue hair settling into a determined indigo.
"Hold on, hold on!" Sirius exclaimed, holding up a hand. "Before we start, Echo, I need you to show me all your… little companions. I don't want any unexpected help in this. This is about pure strength, not magical trickery."
Echo rolled his eyes, but a faint, knowing smirk touched his lips. His indigo hair flared with a hint of amusement. "Fine, Black. As you wish." He gestured vaguely to his shoulder, and with a shimmering ripple, Shimmer materialized, perched casually on Echo's collar. To everyone's astonishment, the Demiguise was holding a small, glinting silver knife in its delicate, furred hand.
"Shimmer, no!" Echo hissed, quickly pushing the knife-wielding hand down. "It's not that kind of fight! Put that away!"
Shimmer, with a look of mild disappointment, shimmied off Echo's shoulder and, with a silent leap, landed on a nearby table. The table's residents, a group of awestruck Hufflepuffs, gasped as the invisible creature suddenly became visible, making a beeline for a bowl of pretzels and peanuts. Their jaws dropped as Shimmer, completely unconcerned, began to stuff his face with the salty snacks.
Echo then reached into his pocket and pulled out Sniffles, the Niffler, who was jingling contentedly. "Someone hold him," Echo instructed, holding the Niffler out.
James, eager to assist, immediately reached for the creature. "I'll take him, Echo!"
Echo, however, pulled Sniffles back slightly. "No, I said someone competent."
James's hand froze mid-air, his face a mask of stunned disbelief. "Hey!" he exclaimed, thoroughly offended.
Lily, however, reached out with a gentle hand. "I'll hold him, Echo." Surprisingly, Sniffles seemed to approve, snuggling into Lily's arms with a contented purr, his little paws patting her cheek as James glared at the niffler.
Remus, seeing the various creatures now accounted for, stepped forward. "Alright, boys, wands on the table. No magic, just brute force."
Both Sirius and Echo placed their wands on the scarred wooden surface. As they did, Peter, suddenly looking avaricious, darted forward, attempting to snatch both wands for "extra security."
"Touch it, and you die, Peter!" Echo roared, his indigo hair flaring a violent, warning red.
Peter shrieked, scrambling backward in terror and stumbling directly into Remus, who steadied him with a concerned frown. A sudden, profound silence fell over the Three Broomsticks. The earlier laughter and chatter died completely, replaced by an uneasy hush.
James, his eyes wide, finally broke the silence. "Is that… is that true, Echo? If someone else touches your wand, they'll… die?"
Echo shrugged, his red hair softening to a thoughtful, almost solemn blue. "I'm not entirely sure, James. But any wand that isn't mine, if I try to use it, it just explodes. So, there's no doubt that the one I can use has some kind of sick twist to it if someone else so much as touches it." He kept the full truth of his cursed wand to himself.
Just then, Shimmer, with a mischievous shimmer, appeared on the table, snatched Echo's wand, and leaped back to the Hufflepuff table, resuming his raid on the salty snacks. The pub, already in shock, descended into further disbelieving murmurs.
"Why can the monkey touch it?" James finally managed, his voice laced with bewilderment.
Echo looked at Shimmer, then shrugged. His blue hair flickered with genuine uncertainty. "I have no idea. But Shimmer is a magical creature, not a magical person. Plus, animals can't use wands, no matter how hard they try. Maybe it's just that simple."
Shimmer, perched on the Hufflepuff table, was indeed waving Echo's wand with surprising dexterity, mimicking a duel. Still, nothing came out, save for a faint, almost invisible shimmer around the tip. Echo gestured to him. "See?" he said, a faint smirk on his face. "Completely harmless in anyone else's hands."
A wizard from a nearby table, who had been watching the scene unfold with keen interest, leaned forward. "Remarkable," he mused aloud. "If he could actually cast spells, with those wand movements and that stance, he'd be a natural-born duelist."
Echo's blue hair flickered with a hint of pride. "Shimmer's a fast learner," he agreed. "Heck, he gives Severus a run for his money when it comes to potions."
Severus, who had been silently observing, let out a long, put-upon sigh. "Regrettably," he drawled, a distinct note of begrudging admiration in his voice, "the Demiguise is unusually… adept at certain tasks. A genuinely unsettling talent for a creature of its kind."
Silence, heavy and expectant, fell over the Three Broomsticks once more. All eyes were on Echo and Sirius, their hands clasped, forearms braced against the table. The Abraxan foal whinnied again, a desperate, longing sound that spurred Sirius on.
"Ready?" Remus asked, his voice firm, acting as the impromptu referee.
"Ready," Sirius and Echo replied in unison, their gazes locked.
"Go!" Remus exclaimed, bringing his hand down sharply.
With a casual, almost dismissive flick of his wrist, Echo slammed Sirius's hand onto the table with a resounding THWACK. The force of it made the scarred wood creak in protest.
"I win," Echo stated, his indigo hair flickering with calm satisfaction.
Sirius, his eyes wide with shock, stared at his pinned hand. "Wh-what? But… I… I wasn't even…"
Echo raised an eyebrow, his blue hair softening to a mild yellow. "You weren't ready, Black? My apologies. Would you like to go again? A second round, perhaps?"
Sirius, though bewildered, felt a fresh surge of indignation. "Damn right I want a second round! That wasn't fair!"
"As you wish," Echo said, his tone utterly unperturbed. He reset his arm, his hollow eyes fixed on Sirius.
Remus, with a hesitant glance at the stunned crowd, brought his hand down again. "Go!"
Sirius roared, veins bulging in his neck, his entire body straining.
He pulled, he pushed, he twisted, his face contorting with immense effort. His arm trembled violently, his knuckles white against Echo's hand. But Echo's arm didn't even flinch. It remained perfectly still, a solid, immovable pillar. His expression was calm, almost bored, his blue hair unwavering. After a long, agonizing minute of Sirius's desperate struggle, Echo tilted his head slightly. "Have you already started, Black? I hadn't noticed," he asked, his voice a soft, almost polite query. Then, with the same effortless flick of his wrist, he slammed Sirius's hand onto the table once more. A roar of cheers erupted from the crowd, a mix of awe and triumphant amusement.
Sirius, his breath coming in ragged gasps, stammered, "But… I… I was…" He trailed off, utterly defeated. He shook his head, then looked up at Echo, genuine confusion and a hint of fear in his eyes. "How did you do that, Echo? You're… you're a dungeon-crawling stick! How are you so strong?"
Echo merely arched an eyebrow, his blue hair flickering with a mischievous glint. "Want to go again?"
Sirius, against all logic, nodded. And again. And again. Several more times, the scene repeated itself. Echo, completely unruffled, effortlessly pinned Sirius's arm. At one point, during a particularly drawn-out struggle where Sirius was red-faced and grunting with effort, Echo casually yawned, then reached for his Butterbeer, taking a long, leisurely sip before placing the mug back down. "Refill, please," he called to the barmaid, without even breaking eye contact with Sirius.
Eventually, even James, Remus, and Peter, drawn by the sheer spectacle and Sirius's increasingly pathetic efforts, joined in. They pulled and yanked on Sirius's arm, grunting and straining, trying to overpower Echo collectively. But it was no use. Echo, still calm, still unmoving, won again and again, much to the open amusement and silent cackles of Severus. Finally, Sirius lay sprawled on the floor beside the table, heaving from exhaustion, his body trembling.
Echo looked down at him, his blue hair settling into a decisive indigo. "Quite done, Black?"
Sirius, gasping for air, managed a weak nod. "I… I yield, Echo. I yield."
"Good," Echo said, his voice flat. He turned to the barmaid. "Another round for me, please. And for the Abraxan." He then looked back at the prostrate Sirius. "Now, pony up, rich boy. I don't want to hear the foal scream in my ear for another minute."
Sirius, looking utterly defeated and close to tears, slowly pushed himself up. "Just… tell me how you did that, Echo."
Echo crossed his arms, his indigo hair flickering with a knowing smirk. "Pay up first, Black. Then I'll sing."
With a groan, Sirius reluctantly emptied his pockets, producing a handful of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. It was just enough for a small barrel of single malt whisky. The barmaid, still wide-eyed, presented it, and the Abraxan foal, seeing its prize, let out a joyous whinny, immediately burying its head in the barrel.
Echo watched the foal drink, then turned back to Sirius. "I hope that little bronze-colored shit is happy now." As if in response, the Abraxan foal, still drinking, gave Echo a small, playful kick with its hind leg. Echo grinned. "I'm gonna name him Pig. Because that's what he is." He then looked at the remaining Marauders. "And I swear, if I ever have a choice between an Abraxan and a Chimera when I'm older, I'm choosing the Chimera. They're not as fussy with food."
Sirius, still sprawled on the floor, let out a series of dramatic coughs, slowly pushing himself up. "Ahem! Echo!" he managed, his voice raspy. "The explanation, if you please. There's no way in Merlin's name you could have won all those rounds unless… unless you cheated!"
Echo merely shrugged, his indigo hair flickering with an almost imperceptible smirk. "I did."
A stunned silence fell over the Marauders. Sirius, his jaw dropping, could only stare. "What?!" he finally bellowed, pushing himself fully upright. "What do you mean, you cheated?!"
Echo leaned back on his stool, a smug, knowing grin spreading across his face. His indigo hair brightened with a mischievous yellow. "Before you even said 'Ready,' Black, I silently summoned and linked myself to the strongest creature nearby."
Sirius scoffed, a fresh wave of indignation washing over him. "You couldn't have! That's against the rules! You said no tricks, Echo!"
Echo's grin widened, a predatory glint in his hollow eyes. "Ah, but I believe my exact words were, 'If you try any dirty tricks, Black.' I never said anything about myself." He punctuated his statement with a theatrical wink.
Sirius stared at him, a mixture of outrage and grudging admiration warring on his face. "You little shit!" he finally exclaimed, a bewildered laugh escaping him. "You absolute, brilliant little shit!"
Echo chuckled, his yellow hair dancing with satisfaction. "Besides," he added, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow, "I cast the spell before we started. I wasn't even sure if my linked strength would last after I dropped my wand. In fact, I was almost certain it would fade the moment I dropped my wand, thinking I needed it for a constant connection. So, I'm kind of glad to know this."
Lily, her brow furrowed with confusion, leaned forward. "But Echo," she began, "you said you linked with the strongest creature nearby. We only saw the Abraxan foal, Sniffles, and Shimmer. None of them is that strong, are they? Not strong enough to take down Sirius so easily, even if he was caught off guard."
Echo grinned, his yellow hair dancing with satisfaction. "Precisely, Lily. Because the creature I linked with wasn't in the Three Broomsticks." He gestured vaguely towards the door. "I summoned it just outside. I was actually half-expecting someone to walk in or out and find my little ruse, or for the connection to break the moment I dropped my wand. I'm genuinely surprised no one did in all those rounds."
Just then, a terrified shriek ripped through the crisp Hogsmeade air from outside the pub. "BUGBEAR!" a voice screamed, utterly terrified.
Echo's grin widened. "And there it is," he said, almost casually.
The door of the Three Broomsticks slowly creaked open, and a large, shaggy, and distinctly grumpy Bugbear poked its head inside. Grumble, the Bugbear, blinked its small, red eyes, surveying the now-stunned patrons.
Echo, with a casual flick of his wrist, retrieved his wand from where Shimmer had left it on the Hufflepuff table. "Good job, Grumble," Echo said, his voice calm amidst the renewed shock of the pub. "You can go back to the vivarium now. You did wonderfully sitting put."
With a soft POP, Grumble shimmered and vanished, leaving behind only a faint, lingering scent of damp earth and annoyance.
Sirius, still wide-eyed, stared at the spot where the Bugbear had been. Then, a slow, grudging smile spread across his face. He shook his head, a genuine laugh bubbling up. "Echo," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of exasperation and genuine respect, "I have to commend you. You are one smart little shit. But mark my words, I will get you back."
Echo merely smirked, his blue hair flickering with cool confidence. "In your dreams, Black."
Sirius winked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I'll see you in my dreams, alright."
Echo rolled his eyes. "Yeah, kicking your butt, probably."
Lily, witnessing the playful yet charged exchange, moved closer to Severus. "Severus," she whispered, a bemused smile playing on her lips, "what in Merlin's name are we witnessing? I don't think I've ever seen Sirius so… eager to lose."
Severus, who had been observing the entire spectacle with a faint, almost imperceptible smirk, drained the last of his Butterbeer. He set the mug down with a soft clunk. "Honestly, Lily," he drawled, a rare, genuine shrug accompanying his words, "I haven't the slightest idea."