By the time Elias, Severus, and Lily made it home, the world felt different—thinner somehow, as if the air stretched too tightly over something unseen.
Lily lingered at the corner of the Evans' yard, clutching her bag so hard her knuckles went white.
"Will you tell me," she whispered, "when you figure out what that thing was?"
Elias nodded once.
"And—if it comes back?"
"I'll know," he said quietly.
She hesitated. "Will we be safe?"
Elias looked at her, then Severus, then back toward the woods where the presence had watched them.
"No," he said. "Not unless I make us safe."
Lily inhaled sharply.
Severus looked sick.
"Go inside," Elias told her. "Don't walk alone after sunset. Not until I understand what's hunting us."
She swallowed and nodded.
But as she stepped backward toward her home, she didn't take her eyes off him.
"Tomorrow?" she whispered.
Elias didn't trust himself to speak.
He nodded instead.
Her breath eased with relief, and she ran toward her doorway, disappearing into the warm yellow light spilling from her house.
Severus stared after her, then at Elias.
"What if it wasn't looking for you?" he whispered.
"It was," Elias said.
"How do you know?"
Because the presence had brushed his mind.
Because the runes on the box had pulsed when he touched them.
Because the moment he had repelled the presence, it had retreated in confusion… but not in defeat.
"It felt familiar," Elias murmured.
Severus paled. "Familiar how?"
"Like the part of me I don't understand yet."
Severus trembled. "I don't like that."
"I don't either."
They stood in silence.
In the shadows.
In the thin space between what they knew and what waited to be known.
Inside the Snape home, Tobias remained oddly subdued—sitting on the couch, staring at a blank spot on the wall as if something important hung there.
He barely glanced at the boys.
Severus hurried past him; Elias lingered a moment.
Tobias blinked, sluggishly aware of the world. "Where were you?"
"Outside," Elias said.
"Doing what?"
Elias's voice didn't waver. "Living."
Tobias grunted and looked away.
Something was wrong with him—off, hollow in a way Elias couldn't name.
His mind felt…
Thinned.
Like a page scraped too many times.
Eileen watched Tobias with a nervous tension that made her shoulders hunch.
She waited until the boys reached their room before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.
"What did you do to him?" she demanded in a whisper.
Elias stared back at her, unflinching. "I didn't break him."
"No," Eileen said. "But you changed something."
"He won't hurt Severus again."
"That is not justification!" she hissed. "Elias, mind magic is not like charms or potions. It is corruption when misused. It bends people. Damages them."
Elias didn't look away. "He deserved to be bent."
Eileen pressed a shaking hand to her forehead. "You're too young for this burden."
Elias's jaw tightened. "I'm the only one strong enough for it."
The quiet between them felt like iron.
Eileen's eyes glimmered—not with fear of him, but fear for him.
"You do not understand the kind of magic that answers you," she whispered. "And I fear it understands you far too well."
She left without another word.
Severus sat on his bed, knees drawn to his chest.
"Elias… what if Mum is right? What if you can't control this?"
Elias sat beside him.
"I will control it," he murmured. "Before something else does."
Severus's breath hitched. "Something else like… that thing in the woods?"
Elias didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
That night, Elias didn't sleep.
Again.
But this time, he didn't lie still.
He sat cross-legged on the floor with a candle between his hands, flame flickering weakly. He held the edge of the flame in his mind—not touching it physically, but containing it, shaping it, forcing it to shrink and swell under his control.
Severus slept deeply for the first time in days, worn down by fear and tension. His breathing was steady. Soft.
Elias focused on the flame.
Up.
It rose.
Down.
It lowered.
Hold.
The flame froze mid-flicker, suspended in a thin, unnatural stillness.
Sweat beaded at Elias's brow.
His temples ached.
He held it.
Held it.
Held it—
Enough.
The flame snapped back to normal.
But Elias didn't blow it out.
He closed his eyes and extended his awareness.
Beyond the candle.
Beyond the room.
Beyond the house.
Into the street.
The river.
The woods.
Searching.
Listening.
Is it still there?
His mind stretched outward until he felt the chill again—
a faint whisper on the edge of his senses.
Not close.
Not watching.
But waiting.
Dormant.
For now.
The next morning, Lily met them with a determined look on her face.
"We can't just pretend yesterday didn't happen," she said as soon as the three were out of earshot.
"We're not pretending," Severus said nervously. "We're… thinking."
"Overthinking," Lily muttered.
Elias kept walking.
Lily trotted to catch up. "Elias, look at me."
He didn't.
She grabbed his sleeve.
He froze.
"Talk to me," she said gently. "Please. You scare me more when you go silent."
Severus nodded vigorously. "She's right."
Elias exhaled, slow and controlled. "I'm thinking."
"You always are."
"Because someone has to."
Lily softened. "And we're here too. We can help."
Elias stopped walking.
Lily and Severus halted beside him.
"Help how?" he asked. "You don't have magic yet. You can't fight something we don't understand."
"But we can think," Lily insisted. "And research. And—and be careful. And make plans."
Severus nodded. "We're good at plans. Remember when we built that raft?"
Elias stared at him. "It sank instantly."
"Because you weren't there to help!" Severus said triumphantly. "Which proves my point."
Lily grinned.
Elias felt his tension loosen—barely.
"Fine," he said. "But I need to start with the runes on the box."
Lily hesitated. "Are you sure that's safe?"
"No," Elias said. "But I know I can read them. A little."
Severus blinked. "How? You've never learned runes."
"I don't know how," Elias said quietly. "I just… understand pieces of them."
Lily stared. "Because they're connected to whatever you are."
Elias didn't deny it.
They headed toward the woods together. Each step felt heavier than the last.
When they reached the clearing where the box lay hidden, the air shivered faintly—the same thin vibration Elias had felt the day before.
The box remained half-buried beneath leaves.
Lily placed a hand on Severus's arm. "Don't touch it. Let Elias… try first."
Severus nodded reluctantly.
Elias knelt.
The runes stirred the moment his shadow crossed the lid.
Lily gasped.
Severus leaned forward, trembling.
Elias touched only the edge—wood, not symbol—and leaned in until the carvings filled his entire view.
They whispered.
Not words.
Not sounds.
Just meaning.
Pieces of it.
Fragments.
Bound. Sealed. Wait. Wake. Mind. Door.
Elias's breath hitched.
Lily whispered, "What do they say?"
"It's not a spell," Elias murmured. "It's a message."
"A message for who?" Severus asked.
"For me."
Lily grabbed Elias's shoulder. "Then leave it alone!"
He didn't move.
Because something else whispered from beneath the runes:
Acknowledge.
Elias pulled back abruptly, heart pounding.
"What happened?" Lily asked.
Severus stared at him, terrified.
Elias wiped his palms on his trousers, realizing they were shaking. "I think… I think the box is waiting."
"For what?" Lily whispered.
"For me to open it."
Lily's face went white.
Severus backed away. "No. No. Elias, you can't. Mum said—"
"Your mum doesn't know about this," Lily said sharply. "No one does."
Elias forced himself to stand. "I won't open it. Not until I understand it."
Lily exhaled in relief.
Severus nodded shakily.
Elias looked toward the woods—where the presence had lingered.
He felt it again now.
Not watching.
Not moving.
But listening.
Waiting.
"Let's go," Elias said abruptly.
"But—" Severus started.
"Now."
They left the clearing quickly.
The further they walked, the less the air vibrated. By the time they reached the river path, the tension had drained enough that Lily finally spoke.
"Elias?"
He looked at her.
"Do you feel… different?" she asked. "From before all of this?"
"Yes," Elias admitted.
"How?" Severus whispered.
Elias hesitated.
He could lie.
But Lily would see through it.
"I feel like something inside me is waking up," Elias said quietly. "Something I don't recognize. Something… bigger."
Lily's hand trembled.
Severus swallowed hard. "Bigger how?"
"Older," Elias whispered. "Stronger. And hungry."
Lily's breath halted.
Severus paled.
"You're scaring me," Lily whispered.
Elias met her eyes. "Good."
She flinched.
"Because if I scare you," Elias said, "you won't get too close."
Lily stepped right up to him.
Closer than she had ever dared before.
"You don't get to decide that for me," she said fiercely. "Or for Sev. You protect us, yes. But you don't get to choose how we feel."
Elias stiffened.
Severus nodded, voice trembling. "We stay with you. Even if—especially if—your magic is changing."
Elias felt the weight of their loyalty like a physical blow.
"I don't want you hurt," he whispered.
"Then we help stop whatever wants you," Lily said.
Elias inhaled sharply. "It doesn't want me."
They stared.
"What does it want then?" Severus whispered.
Elias looked toward the woods, toward the trembling line between the known world and the one waiting beyond it.
"It wants what I will become," Elias murmured. "What I'm meant to be."
"And what's that?" Lily asked.
Elias met her eyes.
"I don't know," he said.
But the presence in the woods did.
And it was waiting for him to figure it out too.