The air in Professor Binn's History of Magical Study classroom smelled of old books and a bit like electricity from a spell gone off. Echo and Remus stood in front of the floating Professor Link, with a very thick book on the desk between them. Echo's blue hair glowed, showing he was pleased, and Remus, though looking tired, seemed relieved.
"Professor Binns," Echo said plainly, pointing to the big book. "Our project on old magic is done. We think it's good and has everything you asked for."
Professor Binns floated closer, his see-through eyes looking over the book. He put his hand through the cover. "Done, Mr. Echo? Already? But you still have two weeks. Are you sure you don't want more time to make it even better, or add more sources?" He sounded surprised, even a little impressed.
"No need, Professor," Echo replied, a small smile on his face. "We worked hard and finished it well. More work wouldn't make it much better."
Remus nodded, looking tired but sure. "We're happy with it, Professor. We put in a lot of effort."
Professor Binns hummed, sounding like soft bells. "Alright, then. If you're both happy with your work, I'll take it. Turning it in early is unusual, but fine." He paused, looking at both of them. "Before you go, have you heard about the lunar anomaly lately?"
Echo blinked, his blue hair flickering with curiosity. "The lunar anomaly, Professor? I haven't heard anything. What's going on?"
Next to him, Remus tensed up, his eyes jumping to Professor Binns, and he trembled a little. He opened his mouth, then closed it, looking a bit pale.
Professor Binns, not seeming to notice Remus's sudden discomfort, continued. "Yes. This month's full moon will show up a whole week early. Very strange, isn't it? The Ministry's stargazers are quite puzzled."
Echo's eyes got wide, and the gold in his hair brightened with real interest. "A week early? That's a big change. How interesting! I need to talk to the centaurs right away. They know everything about the stars. Maybe they can explain why this is happening. I could watch it from the Forbidden Forest. A great chance to see it for myself!" He turned to Remus; his face lit up with excitement. "Lupin, what do you think? You could come with me! Seeing a rare star event would be so useful!"
But Remus was gone. The spot next to Echo was empty. He looked around, confused, then sighed, his gold hair dimming a little. Another strange human thing. He expected Remus to be interested, not just disappear. "Professor Binns," Echo said, turning back to the floating figure, his gold hair now tinged with a faint, annoyed violet. "Did you happen to observe the direction in which Lupin spontaneously decamped? His departure was, I confess, rather… precipitate."
Professor Binns blinked, his translucent form shimmering. "Mr. Lupin? Oh, he just… vanished, didn't he? I confess, I was rather absorbed in the astronomical implications of the early full moon. A most peculiar phenomenon."
Echo sighed, a long, drawn-out sound of exasperation. His gold hair flared with a chaotic mix of violet and green, a clear sign of his internal frustration. "Very well. Since our collaborative project is now complete, and given this unexpected surplus of temporal resources, what, precisely, am I permitted to engage in during the hours typically allocated for its completion? I now possess a significant vacuum in my schedule, which, if left unfilled, may lead to… unproductive contemplation."
Professor Binns hummed, a bell-like sound. "Ah, yes, your schedule. Well, Mr. Echo, I daresay you are quite at liberty to pursue any intellectually stimulating endeavor that captures your interest, so long as it does not interfere with your other academic obligations. And of course, you are expected to attend all your scheduled classes, including this one, as per the established curriculum. The rules, as it were, remain logically consistent."
Echo's face remained impassive, but the gold in his hair dimmed significantly, replaced by a dull, almost resigned grey. He merely nodded. "Understood, Professor. Logical. And entirely predictable. Very well. I shall endeavor to fill this… void with adequately stimulating activities. Thank you for your… guidance."
He turned and strode out of the classroom, leaving the floating professor to ponder the lunar anomaly. As he walked, his grey hair pulsed with an almost palpable sense of boredom. Free time. The most illogical of all concepts.
Echo strolled through the echoing corridors of Hogwarts, his grey hair reflecting his deep-seated boredom. He passed by chattering groups of students, ignored the occasional whispered comments, and paid no mind to the various portraits that watched his passage with a mixture of suspicion and awe. He was, to put it mildly, bored out of his mind. Finishing the project, combined with Remus's weird disappearance, had left a huge hole in his meticulously planned schedule. His usual hunt for strange stuff seemed to have hit a quiet patch.
He rounded a corner near the M classroom, and then, with a familiar jolt of annoyance, he spotted him. Leaning against the wall, trying to look cool but totally failing, was Sirius Black. His usual smirk was there, but a faint smudge of what looked suspiciously like soot messed up his left cheek, and his robes were a bit rumpled. He was trying to sweet-talk a passing first-year into spilling the beans on where they kept the really good Fizzing Whizbees. Echo stopped, his grey hair flickering with mild irritation. Predictable chaos, if nothing else. He figured, logically, that asking about Remus was something he needed to do, and Black was the easiest way to get an answer.
"Black," Echo stated, his voice flat, cutting through Sirius's smooth but useless chatter.
Sirius stiffened, his head snapping up. His smirk vanished, replaced by a scowl. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the little Slytherin," he sneered, pushing himself off the wall. "Lose your pet mermaid, did we? Or maybe your ghost buddy ran off with all your mopey thoughts?"
Echo ignored the insults, his grey hair dimming slightly. "I need some info, Black. Seen Lupin around?"
Sirius narrowed his eyes, his scowl deepening. "Why? What's it to you, Echo? Gonna chop him up next for 'data'?"
"His vanishing act is just something that doesn't make sense, and I need to figure it out," Echo replied, his voice flat. "He just poofed out of Professor Binn's classroom right after the Professor mentioned the moon was coming early. He left pretty fast, I gotta say, and I haven't quite figured out how he left."
Sirius blinked, a flicker of genuine surprise replacing his irritation. "The moon's early?" he muttered, almost to himself, a hint of concern entering his tone. He then focused back on Echo, his sneer returning. "And why do you care? Trying to get more points with the Professors, are we? Gonna tell on him for skipping class?"
Echo sighed, a long, tired sound that showed just how much effort it took to deal with illogical human thinking. His grey hair pulsed with a faint, annoyed violet. "Black, your knack for pointless guessing is truly amazing. I don't 'care' in the mushy human sense. I just want to understand what's going on. Plus, your questions are a total waste of my time. Answer me, or I'll have to try a… more convincing method."
Sirius scoffed, but a wary look entered his eyes. He'd seen Echo's "convincing methods" before, and they usually involved something unpleasant happening to him. "Alright, alright, fine! No, I haven't seen him. He probably just went to the library to read up on 'ancient dust bunnies' or something. Why do you care anyway?"
Echo merely blinked, then, with a sudden, almost triumphant flicker of gold in his hair, he remembered something else. He reached into his robes, pulling out a folded piece of ancient-looking parchment. With a flourish, he unfolded it, revealing the intricate lines and shifting names of the Marauder's Map.
"Oh, and speaking of Remus," Echo stated, holding out the map to a stunned Sirius. "He gave me this during our group detention. I just wanted to give it back. I, of course, already made a full copy for my own analysis."
Sirius stared at the map, then at Echo, his face a mask of utter, speechless disbelief. His jaw dropped. "The Map!" he finally shrieked, his voice raw with outrage. He snatched it from Echo's hand, clutching it protectively. "Where in Merlin's name did you get this, you slimy snake?!"
Echo's grey hair flared, tinged with a dangerous, icy blue. His voice dropped, flat and menacing. "Chill out, Black. Or I'll have to give you a quick and thorough cold shower. Glacius is super effective, if a bit messy, for that kind of thing."
Sirius flinched, his anger momentarily overridden by a flicker of fear. He knew Echo wasn't bluffing.
"Like I said before, and you clearly didn't quite get," Echo continued, his voice regaining its usual flat tone, "Lupin gave it to me during our detention. He didn't tell me what it really was until much later. Since I don't need the original anymore—a copy works just fine—I'm just doing the logical thing and returning borrowed property."
Sirius gaped, his mind clearly struggling to make sense of Echo having the Marauder's Map. "Remus… gave you the Map? He gave you the Map? And you copied it?" he spluttered, his voice a disbelieving squeak.
Echo merely inclined his head, his grey hair pulsing with quiet satisfaction. "Yep. Pretty efficient, don't you think?"
"But why?" Sirius demanded, still reeling. "Why copy it? What could you possibly want with a copy of our map?"
"For its usefulness, Black," Echo explained, his voice flat. "I mean, I made a slightly different version. This one," he tapped the map in Sirius's hand, "tracks people. My copy, though, I tweaked it only to track magical beasts and animals. I find it way more useful for my… current interests."
Sirius stared, then slowly a new horror dawned on his face. "You… you mean you made a map that only shows creatures?" he whispered, horrified.
"Exactly," Echo confirmed, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips. "Much better for tracking annoying dragons, shy centaurs, or, you know, any other weird creature that might need… watching. Now," Echo concluded, his voice indicating the conversation was over, "if you see Lupin, please tell him thanks for letting me borrow it. I'm off to find better ways to figure out where he went."
He turned, leaving a stunned, sputtering Sirius Black clutching the Marauder's Map like stolen treasure, his mind reeling from the double shock of Echo having their most prized secret and Remus Lupin having seemingly betrayed their sacred trust.
Echo, still mildly amused by Black's discomfiture, found himself with an unexpected bounty of free time and a burning curiosity about Remus Lupin's abrupt departure. The lunar anomaly, combined with Remus's strange reaction, presented a fascinating, illogical puzzle. He decided to conduct a personal investigation, armed with his newly enhanced, creature-tracking map.
His first logical step was the Greenhouse, a location Remus frequently visited for Herbology. Echo arrived just as Professor Bloom was ushering a group of third-years out, her voice a cheerful, if somewhat booming, farewell. The air inside was warm and humid, thick with the scent of damp earth and exotic flora. He scanned the rows of plants, his sapphire hair pulsing with analytical focus. It didn't take long to spot something amiss. A cluster of particularly rare, iridescent Wolfsbane flowers, usually meticulously tended, had been disturbed. Several stems were freshly broken, and petals lay scattered on the soil.
Echo bent down, examining the damage with a critical eye. Wolfsbane. A highly potent and equally dangerous plant. Why would Remus, a student known for his careful approach to Herbology, be so careless? And why would he need Wolfsbane? The plant was primarily used in complex potions, often with… unsettling applications. The gold in his hair flared with a new, speculative interest.
Later that afternoon, Echo's curiosity led him to the Astronomy Tower, a place usually bustling with students only after nightfall. He ascended the winding staircase, his footsteps echoing in the silence. As he reached the top, he heard a faint click, then the hurried scrape of feet. Peeking around a corner, he saw Remus Lupin, his back to Echo, meticulously checking a series of intricate astrological charts spread across a large, dusty telescope. Remus's brow was furrowed in concentration, and his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted a dial. He then produced a small velvet pouch and carefully counted out several gleaming silver coins, placing them in a specific pattern on the charts. As if sensing Echo's presence, Remus suddenly flinched, sweeping the charts and coins into the pouch with surprising speed, then darted away, disappearing down the stairs before Echo could utter a word.
Echo stepped out, his sapphire hair tinged with a questioning violet. Silver coins? Arranged on astrological charts? The variables were becoming increasingly complex and contradictory.
The following morning, Echo decided to visit the Potions classroom. Professor Cleen was absent, having left a complicated assignment for his sixth-year students. As Echo entered, he was met with a scene of utter, chaotic disarray. Cauldrons bubbled sluggishly, their contents emitting strange, acrid fumes. Workstations were covered in spilled ingredients, shattered vials, and inexplicable scorch marks. And in the center of it all, a single cauldron pulsed with a sickly, greenish-black substance, emitting a low, rhythmic hum. A half-finished, hastily scrawled note lay beside it, clearly in Remus's handwriting: "Almost there. Just… one more ingredient. Too much pressure. Had to leave. Be back for it soon."
Echo's emerald hair flared with a mix of exasperation and concern. This was beyond mere carelessness; it was a desperate, panicked mess. He examined the ingredients scattered around the cauldron, then, with a jolt, recognized several of them: rare, obscure components used almost exclusively in highly volatile, advanced transformative potions. And the hum… it was the tell-tale vibration of a potion nearing a critical, unstable phase.
He glanced at the note again. "Too much pressure. Had to leave."
Echo sighed, a long, weary sound. This was not merely a logical inconsistency; this was approaching a statistical anomaly. Remus Lupin was either losing his mind or embroiled in something far more profound and dangerous than Echo had initially conceived. The gold in his hair pulsed with a potent mixture of intrigue and a deep, unsettling sense of unease. Remus Lupin was rapidly transforming from an interesting puzzle into a potential catastrophe.
The Room of Requirement, in its infinite wisdom, had conjured itself into a familiar, if slightly unsettling, facsimile of a private study, complete with a roaring fireplace and a single, plush armchair. But Echo wasn't sitting. He was pacing, a rapid, almost frantic stride, a steaming mug of hot cocoa clutched in one hand. His multi-hued hair, a tempest of sapphire, violet, and gold, pulsed with agitated thought. Each step seemed to deepen the groove in the worn carpet, each sip of cocoa a temporary, insufficient balm to his churning mind.
Sniffles, meanwhile, was having the time of his life. He scurried across the floor, a tiny black blur, his snout twitching, his beady eyes gleaming as he unearthed hidden treasures. A discarded gold locket here, a silver thimble there, a small, shimmering vial that probably contained something arcane and valuable. He paused only to stuff each item into his magically expansive pouch before continuing his frantic search. The room hummed with his excited sniffling and the soft clink of his accumulating hoard.
Echo stopped abruptly, nearly sloshing cocoa onto his robes. "Wolfsbane, astrological charts, silver coins, and a volatile, incomplete transformative potion, Sniffles," he stated, his voice flat but strained, as if reciting an impossibly complex equation. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a stray strand of agitated violet. "The variables are… highly incongruous. They do not, at first glance, form a coherent logical sequence."
Sniffles paused his digging, his head tilted, a tiny, golden button clutched in his paw. He let out a soft, questioning squeak.
Echo resumed his pacing. "Yes, I realize it's all rather… messy. Remus Lupin is not typically 'messy.' He is meticulously organized, even in his exhaustion. This suggests extreme duress. But what kind of duress necessitates these particular elements?" He took a deep, fortifying gulp of cocoa. "The Wolfsbane implies a need for a specific, powerful potion. The astrological charts, combined with the lunar anomaly, suggest a temporal component, an alignment with celestial events. And the silver coins… why silver coins? Their magical properties are minimal, and their value is primarily symbolic. Unless…"
His steps slowed, then stopped entirely. The gold in his hair flared, a sudden, potent spark of insight. "Unless they are not merely 'silver coins,' Sniffles. Unless they are a precise, quantifiable measure of time, or perhaps a ritualistic offering. A payment. Or a counter-agent. But for what?"
Sniffles, sensing the shift in Echo's focus, dropped the button and scurried closer, looking up at him expectantly.
Echo ignored him, his gaze fixed on an unseen point in the middle distance. "And the potion. The sheer instability of it. Remus is a capable Potions student, not brilliant, but certainly not prone to such catastrophic near-failures. The pressure… the note said 'too much pressure.' What pressure? And why would he need a highly advanced transformative potion, incomplete or otherwise?" His hair, now a vibrant mix of sapphire and emerald, pulsed with the frantic gears of his mind. "It is not a random collection, Sniffles. It is a carefully selected, if desperate, assemblage of components. Each piece is a clue. But the overall picture remains frustratingly obscured. It's like trying to deduce the entire composition of a symphony from a single, discordant note."
His sapphire and emerald hair flared with a sudden, intense concentration. "Wolfsbane, Sniffles. A notoriously volatile ingredient. Used in only a handful of extremely potent and often dangerous concoctions. Most of them are… frankly, lethal. But one… one specific potion, Wolfsbane Potion, is designed to allow a werewolf to retain their mental faculties during transformation."
Echo froze, his eyes widening imperceptibly. The gold in his hair pulsed, then flared into a brilliant, almost blinding, white as the pieces of the puzzle slammed into place with undeniable force. The monthly 'medical appointments', the exhaustion, the pale skin, the cuts, the lunar anomaly, the astrological charts, the desperate, unfinished potion… it all clicked.
"Remus Lupin," Echo whispered, his voice flat with a sudden, profound realization, tinged with an almost comical self-reproach. "Is a werewolf. A literal lycanthrope. And I, a supposed master of logical deduction, somehow failed to connect these remarkably obvious, indeed, almost comically overt, variables." His white hair pulsed with a hint of exasperated amusement at his own delayed comprehension. "Sniffles," he stated, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper, "I believe I have once again stumbled upon a truly exquisite piece of bad boy information."
Sniffles chirped, nudging Echo's leg, as if in agreement.
Echo resumed his pacing, the white in his hair shifting to a troubled sapphire. "However, Sniffles, this presents a new, significant problem. Remus Lupin, while a capable student, is a novice, at best, when it comes to advanced potion-making. He would be utterly incapable of brewing a Wolfsbane Potion safely, let alone effectively. It is an incredibly complex, unforgiving concoction. And even I, despite my recent… improvements in spellwork and my capacity for unconventional methodologies, would struggle immensely. Wolfsbane Potion requires a level of precision and raw magical power in its execution that I simply do not yet possess. Frankly, I would not risk attempting it with his current, rudimentary understanding of its volatile properties. It is an advanced potion, and a single misstep could result in… catastrophic outcomes."
"Okay, Sniffles," Echo mumbled, his sapphire hair still kinda throbbing with a bunch of crazy analytical energy. "So, where the heck does a werewolf, you know, do the whole werewolf thing? Like, he can't just be running around the Forbidden Forest, even if he's, like, super reckless. Even if he turns back into a human without getting eaten by some creepy creature, the sun coming up would still totally expose him, and he'd probably get hurt. Nah, it's gotta be somewhere safer, more, like, private. Somewhere he can transform without everyone watching or getting into a fight with, like, a giant spider or something."
He started pacing faster, his multi-colored hair a blurry mess of agitated thoughts. "And the Whomping Willow. It's close to the castle. It's, like, super aggressive. It's a defense. A shield. Maybe even, like, a secret entrance to a hidden place?" The gold in his hair flared up, then settled into this smug, knowing glow. "The Shrieking Shack, Sniffles. Hidden by the Whomping Willow. That creepy, supposedly haunted house. All the pieces just click into place now. It's kinda terrifying, but it makes total sense."
Echo stopped, staring at the wall like he could see the old, falling-apart building. "A lot of stuff is finally making sense. But I gotta move fast, Sniffles. If Lupin can't whip up a decent Wolfsbane Potion, he's gonna be as out of control as someone with IBS after Taco Tuesday. He'll be a danger to himself and probably everyone else. I need to find a good potion maker. The only two I can think of right now are Professor Cleen and Severus. Professor Cleen, even though he's good, would totally rat him out to Dumbledore in, like, less than a second. And even if I made up some crazy story, it wouldn't fool him for a second. Severus… Severus is a whole different can of worms."
His sapphire hair got darker, a thoughtful purple mixed in. "Severus would probably tell on him, too. His whole beef with the Marauders, his massive grudge, would make him do it. But… there's a tiny chance. A way to maybe, like, trick him. I might be able to… get around his morals if I phrase things super carefully. Suppose I can, like, appeal to his love for weird, messed-up magic experiments. Yeah." The gold in his hair pulsed with a determined, calculating beat. "I'll tell him I need the potion for some super advanced, totally unethical experiment. That, I think, will be convincing enough. That, hopefully, will work."
Echo sprinted from the Room of Requirement, his sapphire and gold hair a blur of determined motion; his mind fixed on a single, urgent objective: Severus Snape. The familiar stone corridors of Hogwarts blurred past him as he navigated the labyrinthine passages towards the Slytherin common room. He burst through the concealed entrance, the heavy stone door swinging shut behind him with a low thud.
The common room was a subterranean expanse, dimly lit by the green glow filtering in from the lake outside. Various Slytherins were scattered about – some hunched over spellbooks, others engaged in hushed conversations, a few simply lounging by the fire. Echo scanned the room, his eyes darting from face to face, searching for Severus's familiar hook-nosed profile.
"Severus!" Echo called out, his voice flat but carrying an unusual urgency. "Where is Severus Snape?"
A few heads turned, but no one offered a response. The usual murmurs of conversation simply paused and then resumed, as if Echo were merely another piece of common room furniture. He moved deeper into the room, his gaze sweeping across the various alcoves and shadowy corners.
"Has anyone seen Severus Snape?" Echo reiterated, his voice rising slightly, tinged with impatience. "I require his immediate presence for a matter of considerable urgency."
Still, no one answered. A few students exchanged knowing glances, a subtle smirk playing on the lips of a third-year across the room. Echo's emerald hair flickered with annoyance. This collective disregard for his inquiry was illogical and inefficient.
Then, he saw him. Lucius Malfoy stood near a towering bookcase, partially obscured by shadow. A faint, sneering smirk played on Lucius's aristocratic features, his grey eyes glinting with amusement as he watched Echo's frustrated search. He deliberately ignored Echo, clearly enjoying the display of his perceived helplessness.
Echo's agitated sapphire hair flared with a sudden, dangerous crimson. He knew, with a logical certainty, that Lucius was aware of Severus's whereabouts. This deliberate obstruction was an act of calculated insolence, a challenge. And Echo did not tolerate challenges that impeded his objectives.
Without a moment's hesitation, Echo marched directly towards Lucius, his stride purposeful and unwavering. Lucius's smirk widened, confident in his untouchable status. He underestimated Echo, as so many did. Echo reached him, his movements swift and utterly devoid of hesitation. Before Lucius could react, Echo's hand shot out, seizing a handful of his impeccably styled, platinum blond hair. He tugged hard, dragging and yelping Lucius Malfoy off balance.
"What in Merlin's name—!" Lucius shrieked, his eyes wide with shock and indignation.
Echo didn't respond. He merely tightened his grip, pulling Lucius forward, ignoring the stunned gasps of the other Slytherins. He dragged the struggling prefect directly towards the small, stone-doored bathroom tucked away in a corner of the common room. With a powerful kick, he sent the door slamming open, then shoved Lucius inside, following swiftly. The door slammed shut behind them with a resounding thud, Echo twisting the lock with a sharp click.
Inside the cramped, dimly lit bathroom, Echo released Lucius's hair, sending the boy sprawling to his knees on the cold stone floor. Lucius scrambled backward, his face pale with a mixture of fear and outrage.
"You… you insolent half-blood! What do you think you're doing? I'll have you expelled! I'll—"
Echo cut him off, his voice flat and dangerously low. "Silence, Malfoy. Your unproductive vocalizations are illogical and irrelevant. Your deliberate withholding of information is inefficient. I require Severus Snape's current location. Immediately."
He raised his wand, the tip glowing with a sickly, malevolent green light. His entire head of hair, from root to tip, exploded into the same virulent, terrifying emerald, pulsating with raw, unrestrained power. He leaned down, pushing the tip of his wand inches from Lucius's terrified, wide eye.
"Now, Malfoy," Echo stated, his voice a low, chilling whisper utterly devoid of warmth or empathy. The green light from his hair cast grotesque shadows across Lucius's face, making his features twist in terror. "Where. Is. Severus. Snape? I've been practicing with the unforgivables and have gotten quite good at using them and applying them in different ways. I can tell you how much of the curico curse I want to hurt you. Want to find out?"
Lucius, trembling, gulped. "He… he went after Black! To the Shrieking Shack! Said he saw him going towards the Whomping Willo, and he was trying to figure out… something!"
Echo's eyes widened, the malevolent green in his hair flickering with a sudden, horrified realization. He gasped, dropping Lucius's hair and sending the prefect sprawling onto the cold, damp floor. Without another word, Echo spun on his heel and burst out of the bathroom, leaving a stunned and disheveled Lucius Malfoy trembling on the tiles.
He bolted through the common room, ignoring the shocked whispers and stares of the other Slytherins. He sprinted through the corridors, his sapphire hair a blur of frantic determination. Every logical process in his mind screamed a single, terrifying conclusion: Severus Snape, blinded by vengeance, was about to confront Sirius Black, believing him to be the Dementor responsible for his near-death experience. Given Snape's volatile nature and the impending full moon, that confrontation could only end in catastrophe.
He reached the Gryffindor common room portrait, skidding to a halt. "Fat Lady!" Echo panted, his voice flat but laced with an almost desperate urgency. "Where's Sirius Black? Seriously, this is life or death! I think someone's about to get murdered, or murder someone!"
The Fat Lady, startled by his intensity, peered down at him, her painted face a mixture of annoyance and genuine surprise. "Sirius Black? He's not in here, dearie. And honestly, it's far too early for that kind of ruckus!" She then leaned closer, her voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. "But I did see him and his friends sneaking out a while ago, looking rather shifty, towards the Whomping Willow. Always up to no good, that lot!"
Echo didn't wait for another word. He spun around, his eyes scanning the corridor. The nearest window was several feet away. With a burst of frantic energy, he launched himself towards it, smashing through the glass with a shower of glittering fragments. He plummeted downwards, the wind rushing past his ears.
As he fell, his emerald hair flared with a desperate, silent plea. Fawkes! I need a ride now! Someone's about to get seriously hurt or worse! Get here fast, and be ready to move! He hoped his beast-magic, usually so reliable with Gorick, would extend to the fiercely intelligent phoenix. He only had seconds before impact.
Just as the ground rushed up to meet him, a flash of brilliant crimson and gold erupted from the sky. Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, materialized above him, swift as an arrow, and seized Echo by the arm with surprisingly gentle yet firm talons. The fall instantly ceased, replaced by the exhilarating rush of upward flight. The air, which had been tearing past him, became a strong, steady current beneath them.
"Fawkes!" Echo exclaimed, his voice flat but laced with profound relief. The gold in his hair flared with gratitude. "Good timing, Fawkes. Really good. Didn't think you'd come. But I need to hit the ground. Got something way faster waiting."
Fawkes trilled, a knowing, melodious sound, and then, with a controlled dip, released Echo. He plummeted for only a second before, with a burst of emerald hair and focused intent, Echo slammed his hand onto the ground the moment his feet touched it.
"Skip!" Echo commanded, his voice a low, resonant whisper in his mind, projecting his desire and thought. "Now! Need you here, and your speed!"
Echo swiped his wand underneath him, summoning the unicorn from the apparating aspect of his beast magic. The air rippled as an undefined shape swirled into existence right under the boy. Through it burst a creature of breathtaking beauty and raw power: a unicorn, its coat a pristine, luminous white, its spiraled horn gleaming like polished ivory, jolting the boy into the air where it caught him on its back. She landed with a soft, almost soundless thud, her powerful muscles rippling beneath her silken coat as she adjusted herself to the new, although small, weight on her back.
Echo swung himself to Skip's ear, even though he didn't have to, his sapphire hair pulsing with renewed determination. "Skip," he ordered, his voice flat, but with a new, urgent command. "To the Shrieking Shack. Go as fast as you can. Like the wind."
Skip neighed, a clear, ringing sound, and then, with a powerful surge of her muscular legs, launched herself into a full gallop. The ground blurred beneath them, the trees of the Forbidden Forest flashing past in a green and brown streak. They were a white and black blur against the encroaching twilight, a desperate race against time and brewing catastrophe.