The Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning cacophony of clattering cutlery, animated chatter, and the occasional burst of laughter. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, painting the House tables in cheerful, shifting patterns. At a small, solitary table tucked away at the very back, near the entrance of the Great Hall, with the rest of his friends, Echo sat hunched over a copy of The Daily Prophet. His black hair was a calm, reflective blue, and he occasionally snorted with amusement or irritation at the headlines, muttering under his breath about Ministry incompetence. A half-eaten plate of toast and marmalade lay before him, largely ignored.
Amos, ever the early riser, had joined him at the table, picking casually at a scone. He cleared his throat, a hesitant, almost wheedling tone entering his voice. "Echo, listen, I was wondering if—"
"No," Echo cut him off, without even looking up from his paper.
Amos blinked, his scone halfway to his mouth. "But I didn't even finish!" he protested, a note of exasperation creeping into his voice.
Echo sighed, lowering the Prophet just enough for his violet eyes to peek over the top. "I don't have to, Amos. The way you started, the tone, the slight shiftiness in your eyes when you think I'm not looking. I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is still no."
"Just hear me out!" Amos insisted, a faint blush rising on his cheeks.
Echo let out a long-suffering sigh, folding the newspaper with a crisp snap. His blue hair flickered with a touch of exasperated green. "Fine. Out with it. But be quick about it, I'm trying to figure out if this article about Gringotts goblins is actually a thinly veiled critique of Ministry banking policies."
Amos brightened, seemingly oblivious to Echo's sarcasm. "Right! So, I was just wondering if you could, you know, get a couple of your creatures to do some errands for me? Nothing big, just some small things, really."
Echo fixed him with an unblinking stare, his green hair darkening to a resolute black. "No."
"Oh, come on, Echo!" Amos whined, slumping in his seat. "It'll be quick, I swear! Just a couple of things, really important!"
"Why can't you just get your owl to do it?" Echo asked, gesturing vaguely towards the Owlery where a few sleepy birds were just starting to stir.
Amos threw his hands up in frustration. "You know my owl! She's only good for delivering letters. She won't do anything else! I tried to get her to carry my Potions book to class last week, and she just dropped it on my head!"
Echo leaned back, crossing his arms. His black hair softened to a thoughtful blue. "It's not fair to the magical creatures, Amos."
Amos scoffed. "Not fair? Aren't the magical creatures you 'command' no different from the magical owls we all use? They do your bidding, don't they?"
Echo's eyes narrowed, and he slowly, deliberately, folded his newspaper into a neat, rectangular block. His blue hair flared with a sudden, irritated crimson. "No, Amos. What I do and what magical owls do for wizardkind are two completely different things. My creatures don't 'do my bidding.' They have full autonomy to do as they please. I simply project my desires and emotions onto the creature, and the creature ultimately makes the choice."
Amos looked utterly unconvinced. He leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Come on, Echo. You really expect me to believe that? You just snap your fingers, or whatever it is you do, and they just decide to obey you? That sounds an awful lot like forcing them to me."
Echo let out a long, exasperated sigh. His crimson hair faded to a dazed, yet determined, yellow. "Fine," he muttered, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. "You want proof? You want to see how this works?"
Before Amos could respond, Echo reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. With a quick flick of his wrist and a silent mental command, he summoned a Diricawl. With a soft poof, the plump, flightless bird materialized on the table between them, its iridescent plumage shimmering in the morning light. It blinked its large, gentle eyes, looking around with mild curiosity.
"Alright, Amos," Echo said, his voice low and intense. "Watch closely. And whatever happens, don't interfere." He then focused his gaze on the Diricawl, his yellow hair pulsing with a concentrated, almost visible blue. He projected his desire: a clear, vivid image of the Diricawl waddling across the table and stepping into the bowl of steaming hot oatmeal that Lily Evens had just placed in front of her. He imbued the thought with a sense of playful mischief, a touch of innocent curiosity.
The Diricawl remained still for a moment, its head tilted. Then, with a soft honk, it took a tentative step towards the edge of the table, its beady eyes fixed on Lily's bowl of oatmeal. It waddled closer, its little feet making soft thump-thump-thump sounds on the polished wood. It reached the edge, peered over at the creamy, hot porridge, then looked back at Echo, a flicker of something almost like indignation in its large, dark eyes. Suddenly, with an outraged HONK! The Diricawl puffed out its feathers and angrily ran straight back to Echo, pecking sharply at his forehead.
"Ow! Ow! Hey!" Echo yelped, wincing and trying to fend off the furious bird. His blue hair flared with embarrassed crimson. "Alright, alright! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He quickly rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a handful of juicy red berries, offering them apologetically to the Diricawl.
The bird eyed the berries suspiciously for a moment, then, with another less aggressive honk, began to nibble at them, its ruffled feathers slowly smoothing down.
Echo turned to Amos, his crimson hair settling into a triumphant, if slightly sheepish, yellow. "See?" he said, gesturing to the now-contented Diricawl. "It chose not to. It looked, it considered, and then it decided that stepping into Lily's oatmeal was not in its best interest, and it was quite rightly annoyed that I even suggested it."
Amos stared, utterly speechless, then slowly, a pout began to form on his lips. "So… it just… said no? To you?"
Echo grinned, a faint, mischievous glint in his eyes. "Precisely."
The next day dawned with a thick, oppressive fog clinging to the castle grounds, mirroring the heavy atmosphere in the Potions classroom. Echo, his black hair a determined blue, meticulously stirred a shimmering, opalescent liquid in a large cauldron. Severus Snape, his face a mask of intense concentration, hovered over a delicate set of scales, carefully weighing out a minuscule amount of powdered moonbeam. Shimmer, the Demiguise, a nearly invisible silver ripple on a nearby shelf, precisely dropped tiny, crystalline fragments of a Fwooper feather into a waiting vial.
"Are you certain, Echo," Severus drawled, his voice low and precise, "that having a creature primarily known for its invisibility and precognitive abilities assist in the delicate art of potion-making is a wise decision?" He glanced at Shimmer, who merely chittered softly, its almost-visible hand meticulously lining up the feather fragments.
Echo didn't look up from his stirring with his wand. His blue hair flickered with a confident green. "He's not just good at being invisible, Severus. Shimmer is actually incredibly precise, and he's a fast learner. Remember that time he copied your hand movements perfectly when you were demonstrating that advanced cutting charm?" He paused, a faint smirk touching his lips. "Besides, you said yourself that this particular potion requires three exceptionally skilled individuals to handle properly. And since Remus and Lily are busy, Shimmer was the logical choice."
Severus merely grunted, a sound that could have meant agreement or profound exasperation. He carefully transferred the powdered moonbeam into a small, intricately carved silver spoon. "Very well. Now, the extract of Occamy tears. One drop, Echo. Precisely one drop. Too much, and the entire concoction will become volatile."
Echo nodded, his green hair settling into a focused black. He held a dropper, filled with a single, shimmering tear, poised above the cauldron. The room was silent, save for the gentle hum of the potion and the faint, almost imperceptible chittering of Shimmer.
Just as Echo was about to release the drop, the heavy dungeon door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. "Hey, guys!" Frank Longbottom's booming voice shattered the stillness, entirely oblivious to the delicate operation underway.
Echo, Severus, and Shimmer all jumped, startled. The single drop of Occamy tear, instead of gently falling, jostled free, followed by the entire contents of the dropper, plunging into the cauldron with a distinct plop. Immediately, the opalescent liquid began to bubble violently, rapidly changing color from shimmering white to an angry, pulsing crimson. Thick, acrid smoke billowed from the cauldron, filling the room with a pungent, metallic smell.
"Frank, you blithering idiot!" Severus roared, his black hair flaring a furious red. "Look what you've done!"
Echo, however, was already reacting. His black hair blazed with a desperate yellow, and he slammed his hands against the sides of the cauldron, projecting a frantic wave of cooling magic. Shimmer, a silver blur, darted forward, throwing several vials of powdered griffin claw into the mixture, hoping to absorb the excess magical energy. Severus, wand drawn, chanted ancient counter-charms, his face pale with alarm. For several agonizing moments, the cauldron hissed and spat, threatening to explode. The air grew thick with ozone, and the stone walls vibrated ominously. Finally, slowly, the crimson began to recede, the bubbling subsided, and the smoke thinned, revealing a now-stable, if slightly singed, deep purple liquid. All three of them sagged in relief. Echo, panting, ran a hand through his now-grey hair, wiping sweat from his brow. Severus leaned heavily against the workbench, his chest heaving. Shimmer, trembling slightly, settled onto Echo's shoulder, a concerned silver ripple.
Echo turned to Frank, his grey hair rapidly darkening to an angry black. "Frank! What in Merlin's name were you thinking, sneaking up on us like that?! We nearly blew ourselves up, the entire Potions lab, and probably a good chunk of Hogwarts with it!"
Frank, looking genuinely contrite, stammered, "I… I didn't mean to, Echo! I just wanted to ask you something."
Echo let out a long, aggravated sigh, running both hands through his black hair. "Just… can we take five, Severus?"
Severus, already beginning to remove the singed ingredients from the workbench meticulously, simply grunted, "Yes, Echo. I need to collect everything all over again and start from scratch."
Echo turned to Frank, his black hair still radiating irritation. "Alright, Frank, out with it. What did you want to ask that was so important it nearly detonated a cauldron and turned us all into magically infused ash?"
Frank shifted his weight, his contrite expression replaced by a sheepish grin. "Well, Echo, it's just… I wanted to ask you a favor. As a friend."
Echo crossed his arms, his black hair flickering with a knowing blue. "If you're about to ask for Shimmer's future sight to cheat on your Charms test, the answer is no. Take the fail, Frank, and learn from it. It builds character."
Frank's eyes widened. "No, no, that's not it! Well, actually, that was part of it, but it's not the main thing. This is about something else, something really important!"
Echo let out a long, weary sigh, his blue hair darkening to a resigned indigo. "Then what, pray tell, is the actual favor you want, Frank?"
Frank took a deep breath, his eyes darting around the room. "Well, so, you know how everyone's been talking about… well, you know, the… things you do? And I heard from Anthony Bones, who heard from Emma Macmillan, who apparently overheard Parvati Patil talking to Amathyst Brown, who got it from a first-year Hufflepuff, that you have… connections. And then I heard from Seamus, who heard from Dean, who heard from a painting in the Transfiguration corridor, that you've been seen flying around with… things. And that got me thinking, because if you're flying around with things, then maybe those things could… well, you know. Help out a friend."
Echo stared at him, his indigo hair pulsing erratically, his eyes wide and unblinking, as if his brain was visibly struggling to process the convoluted stream of information. Shimmer, sensing Echo's mental overload, began to materialize more fully, a silver blur raising a tiny, almost-visible hand, ready to deliver a sharp, disciplinary whack to Frank's head. Sniffles, meanwhile, had quietly emerged from Echo's pocket and was meticulously attempting to pry a particularly shiny stirring rod from a rack of Potions equipment. Even Severus, who had been stoically collecting fresh ingredients, paused mid-reach, a single, unblinking dark eye fixed on Frank, his face a perfect mask of bewildered disbelief.
"Frank!" Echo suddenly shrieked, snapping out of his daze, his indigo hair flaring a violent, agitated red. "You are about to give me an aneurysm! Please, for the love of Merlin, get to the point!"
Frank blinked, then smiled, as if a great weight had been lifted. "Right! Sorry, Echo. Anyway, can I borrow your dragon?"
Echo stared at Frank, his red hair slowly fading to a dazed, utterly disbelieving purple. Shimmer, its tiny hand still raised, hovered mid-air, frozen in place, a silver statue of impending disciplinary action. Sniffles, the shiny stirring rod now firmly clutched in its paws, paused its meticulous prying, its beady eyes wide with unexpected drama. Even Severus, who had just regained his composure, dropped a vial of Flobberworm Mucus with a soft splat, the green goo spreading slowly across the stone floor.
"You want to… You want to borrow my dragon?" Echo finally managed, his voice a strained whisper, as if the words themselves were too absurd to utter.
"No!" Echo immediately declared, his purple hair flaring with a fresh wave of indignation.
"Why not?!" Frank complained, his face a mixture of disappointment and disbelief.
Echo narrowed his eyes, his hair darkening to a suspicious black. "How in Merlin's beard did you even know I have a dragon, Frank? The last time someone went around this school telling everyone I had a dragon, no one believed them."
Frank shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I didn't! I was just shooting in the dark!"
Echo let out a groan, bringing a hand to his forehead and smacking it. "You blithering idiot!" he muttered, his black hair pulsing with mortification. He then fixed Frank with a stern gaze, his hair settling into a firm, resolute blue. "No, Frank. Wick is not a library book; she can't just be 'lent out.' Plus, Wick isn't some tame horse you can just hop on. If I lent her to you, you'd probably get eaten within five minutes."
"Please, Echo, I'm begging you!" Frank pleaded, his voice taking on a desperate, almost pathetic tone. His hands were clasped together, his eyes wide and earnest. "It's for something really special! And I know how to 'drive' her, I promise! I'll keep myself from being eaten! I've been studying dragon lore for weeks, just in case!"
Echo stared at him, his blue hair flickering with disbelief. "Frank, we are not using Wick to recreate a medieval castle sacking with a dragon for fun. That's insane, even for you."
Frank immediately shook his head. "No, no, that's not what I want her for!" He paused, then added thoughtfully, "Though that does sound fun, actually. But no! This is different. I want to take someone very special with me on a flight. Something they'll never forget."
Echo's expression softened slightly, a flicker of curiosity replacing his irritation. His blue hair brightened to a more inquisitive yellow. "Someone special, you say? And who, pray tell, is this 'someone very special'?"
Frank hesitated, glancing around the room. "It's a… a being," he finally mumbled, his cheeks flushing faintly.
Severus, who had been listening with a detached air of amusement, let out a dry, mirthless chuckle. His black hair, now completely calm, rippled with a faint, sarcastic grey. "I didn't realize you were into Demiguises, Longbottom," he drawled, his gaze sweeping over to Shimmer.
Shimmer, perched on Echo's shoulder, looked up at Severus. Its silver ripple solidified just enough to make a delicate, almost visible gesture that could only be interpreted as an "oh, you charmer" expression before returning to its more invisible state.
Frank spluttered, his blush deepening to a fiery red. "No! Not a Demiguise! Merlin, no!" He ran a hand through his hair. "It's a girl! There's a girl I like, and I want to do something really special for her. Something… unforgettable."
"Normally, Frank," Echo began, his blue hair settling into a stern, almost lecturing black, "I would say absolutely not. Lending out Wick is incredibly irresponsible, and putting someone else, especially someone unfamiliar with dragons, on her back would be monumentally stupid."
Frank's shoulders slumped, his earlier enthusiasm deflating visibly. Across the room, Severus Snape, still diligently cleaning up the spilled Flobberworm Mucus, allowed a faint, almost imperceptible smirk to touch his lips, a rare sign of approval at Echo's unusual display of restraint and forcefulness.
But then, Echo's expression softened, a mischievous glint returning to his hollow eyes. His black hair flickered with a nostalgic, almost dreamy yellow. "However," he continued, a slow grin spreading across his face, "I have done equally, if not more, dumb and dangerous things for love. So, I would be a hypocrite to deny you." He paused, his gaze distant. "After all, Skate could have easily killed me the first time I tried to woo her."
As Echo spoke, Shimmer, with a mischievous chitter, materialized more fully. It swiftly grabbed Sniffles, who let out a startled squeak, and with a surprising tug, dislodged the pilfered stirring rod and other potion equipment from his pouch, depositing them with a soft clink back onto the rack. Sniffles, momentarily put out, merely puffed out his fur in indignation.
Frank, whose face had been a picture of dejection, suddenly brightened, a wide, hopeful grin replacing his pout. "Really, Echo? You mean it?"
Echo nodded, his yellow hair blazing with renewed confidence. "Meet me at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where the path to Hogsmeade begins, tomorrow before sundown. And bring your lady friend."
Without a word, Frank launched himself across the room, engulfing Echo in a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you, Echo! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the best!"
Echo, slightly winded, patted Frank awkwardly on the back. "Alright, alright, that's enough, Frank. I still need to breathe."
Frank finally released him, still beaming. As he turned to leave, he paused, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "Oh, and Echo," he began, his voice a little hesitant. "About that other thing we talked about… You know, the Charms test?"
Echo rolled his eyes, his yellow hair darkening to a resolute black. "No, Frank. I'm not granting you future sight to cheat on your Charms test. I said no, and I meant it."
Frank's face fell again, but then, with a secretive smile, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet bag, handing it to Echo. "I brought something to sweeten the deal."
Echo took the bag, his black hair flickering with curiosity. He opened it, peering inside. "What is this?"
"Dark chocolate caramels," Frank announced proudly, his chest puffing out. "Your favorite. I heard you talking about them last week."
Echo's eyes, usually hollow, widened fractionally. His black hair brightened with a touch of genuine delight. He took a single caramel from the bag, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. A blissful sigh escaped him.
"Alright, fine," Echo conceded, his voice slightly muffled by the caramel. He raised his wand, his black hair flaring with a concentrated blue. With a swift, precise movement, he tapped the tip of his wand to Shimmer, then to Frank's forehead. A faint, almost invisible shimmer surrounded Frank for a moment. "You have one hour," Echo said, his voice firm. "And if you get caught, you didn't get it from me. Understood?"
Frank, already feeling a strange, tingling sensation in his mind, nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide with glee. "Understood! Thank you, Echo! You're a lifesaver!"
With a triumphant whoop, Frank Longbottom skipped out of the Potions classroom, leaving a trail of bewildered silence in his wake.
As Echo ate the chocolate in blissful silence, Severus returned to the workbench, his arms laden with fresh ingredients. He cast a withering glance at the remnants of the failed potion, then at Echo, before Shimmer, now a solid silver Demiguise, hopped onto his shoulder. With a precise, almost imperceptible movement, Shimmer reached down and, with a swift, silent snatch, trapped Sniffles inside a small, empty cauldron, the Niffler letting out a muffled squeak of protest. Both Severus and Shimmer then turned their unblinking gazes on Echo, their expressions a synchronized portrait of profound disappointment.
"I had faith in you, Echo," Severus drawled, his voice laced with an almost theatrical weariness, his black hair rippling with a faint, disapproving grey. "I truly did."
Echo sighed, his yellow hair flickering with a sheepish orange. He looked down at the half-eaten caramel in his hand. "I know, I know," he mumbled, his voice a little strained. "But I'm a sucker for love, Severus. Always have been." He then looked at the remaining dark chocolate caramels in the velvet bag, a thoughtful, almost wistful expression on his face. "And," he added, his voice barely a whisper, "I might also have a bit of a problem. An addiction, perhaps."
Severus, who had remained silent, observing the interaction with a detached air, finally spoke. His black hair, now completely calm, rippled with a faint, almost imperceptible grey as he turned his gaze to Echo. "And tell me, Echo," he drawled, his voice a low, sardonic murmur, "would you extend this… extraordinary 'chauffeur service' to me, should I ever wish to 'swoon' Miss Evans?"
Echo turned, his yellow hair flickering with surprise, then settled into a thoughtful blue. A faint, knowing smirk touched his lips. "Only if you asked nicely, Severus," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. "But I'm not sure a dragon ride would have the same effect on Lily. We took Wick out for a spin a while ago, remember? The magic of the first time might have worn off by now."
Severus merely rolled his eyes, a flicker of exasperation in his dark gaze. Shimmer, perched on his shoulder, mirrored the gesture with a tiny, almost-visible eye roll of its own. From the depths of the cauldron, Sniffles let out another loud, indignant squeak, clearly protesting his incarceration.
The next day, as the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of fiery orange and soft lavender, Frank Longbottom stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where the path to Hogsmeade began. Beside him, a young woman with bright, curious eyes and a cascade of dark, curly hair fidgeted slightly, a hint of impatience in her posture. Frank's black hair, usually a mess, was meticulously combed, and he kept adjusting the collar of his best robes, his heart thumping with a mixture of excitement and nervous apprehension. He glanced at the sky, then at his date, Alice, a worried frown creasing his brow. The shadows were lengthening, and a cold dread began to seep into his enthusiasm. Please don't flake on me, Echo, he silently pleaded.
"Frank," Alice finally asked, her voice soft but with a playful edge. What exactly are we waiting for? And why are we at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, of all places? I thought you said we were going somewhere 'unforgettable'.
Before Frank could stammer out a response, a colossal shadow fell over them. The air thrummed with a powerful, rhythmic beat, and a gust of wind, smelling faintly of smoke and ancient earth, swept through the trees, rustling their leaves like a thousand whispers. Alice gasped, her eyes wide as saucers, as a massive, scaly form descended from the sky. Wick, her golden eyes gleaming in the fading light, landed with a soft thud that shook the ground beneath their feet. Perched confidently on her broad back, his black hair a vibrant, triumphant yellow, was Echo.
"Your chauffeur has arrived!" Echo announced, a wide, mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"Echo!" Frank exclaimed, his face breaking into a relieved, joyous smile. "You actually made it!"
Echo dismounted gracefully, his yellow hair flickering with amusement. "I always keep my promises to my friends, Frank. And speaking of friends, aren't you going to introduce me to your lady friend?"
Frank, still beaming, turned to Alice, who stood utterly speechless, her jaw slightly agape. "Alice, this is Echo. Echo, this is Alice." He then turned back to Alice, gently nudging her. "Alice, say hello."
Alice, her eyes still fixed on the enormous dragon, finally managed a choked whisper. "I-is that… a real dragon?"
Echo chuckled, his yellow hair softening to a kind blue. "It's nice to meet you, too, Alice. And yes, Wick is very real. But don't go around talking about it, alright? I really don't want to have to learn memory-wiping charms to keep her a secret."
Frank, seeing Alice's utter bewilderment, quickly interjected. "Alice, this was my surprise! For your birthday! A genuine dragon ride, through the clouds!"
Alice's wide eyes softened, a look of profound wonder replacing her shock. "Oh, Frank," she breathed, genuinely touched. Then, a flicker of concern crossed her face. "But… won't we get eaten?"
Echo waved a dismissive hand, his blue hair flickering with nonchalant amusement. "Nah, don't worry about it. I fed Wick a troll before coming here. She's quite full."
"A… a troll?" Alice stammered, her eyes widening again.
"Long story," Echo said, already turning to climb back onto Wick's back. "Just don't question it. Hop on!"
Echo swung himself onto Wick's back, settling in front of Frank. Frank, with a little more fumbling than Lily had, clambered on behind Echo, helping a still-wide-eyed Alice settle in behind him. Alice clutched Frank's robes, her knuckles white.
"Hold on tight, you two!" Echo yelled over the rustling of Wick's scales, his yellow hair blazing with anticipation. "Wick, Ascendio!"
With a powerful, ground-shaking beat of her immense wings, Wick launched herself into the air. The familiar exhilarating rush sent a fresh wave of whoops from Echo and a surprised gasp from Alice, quickly followed by a joyous laugh. They ascended rapidly, leaving the Forbidden Forest a dark, sprawling carpet below. Hogwarts Castle, its many towers lit against the twilight, glowed like an enchanted jewel. Wick soared across the sky, tracing a majestic arc over the castle. They looped once, twice, the students in the brightly lit windows appearing as tiny, cheering specks. Then, with a powerful beat, Wick veered towards Hogsmeade. The village, usually bustling, was a charming collection of miniature, snow-dusted buildings, its crooked streets lit by warm, inviting lights. They swooped low enough to see the smoke curling from the chimneys of the Three Broomsticks before climbing higher, gaining altitude above the Forbidden Forest once more. The air grew colder, thinner, and the stars, already beginning to emerge, glittered with an almost painful brilliance.
Alice, her voice filled with pure, unadulterated delight, shouted over the wind, "This is incredible, Frank! Truly, truly unforgettable!" Her dark hair streamed behind her, a wild banner against the darkening sky. They flew for what felt like an eternity, the silence of the high altitude broken only by the rhythmic beat of Wick's wings and their excited exclamations. Finally, with a graceful descent, Wick landed softly in a secluded clearing deep within the forest, away from any established paths.
Alice dismounted, her legs wobbly but her face flushed with exhilaration, her eyes sparkling like the stars they had just flown beneath. "Oh, wow!" she breathed, still vibrating with excitement. "Frank, that was… that was the most exhilarating thing I have ever done! This is the best birthday I've ever had! You're the greatest friend I've ever had!"
Friend.
The word hit Echo like a ton of bricks. His triumphant yellow hair immediately darkened to a confused, almost exasperated blue. He pulled Frank aside, a firm grip on his arm.
"Frank," Echo began, his voice low, his blue hair flickering with a hint of accusation. "Alice is your… girlfriend, right?"
Frank, still beaming from Alice's praise, blinked, then shook his head, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. "No, not yet."
Echo stared at him, his blue hair darkening to a furious black. "Then why on earth did you make it sound like you were taking her on a date, you blithering idiot?!"
Frank shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Echo's gaze. "I was nervous, okay? I didn't want to make it awkward."
"Nervous?!" Echo practically hissed. "Have you at least told her how you feel about her, then?"
Again, Frank shook his head, his shoulders slumping. "No."
Echo looked at him as if he had just sprouted a second head. His black hair pulsed with utter disbelief. "Why not?!"
"Because… because I'm too nervous!" Frank whispered, his voice laced with genuine fear. "What if she doesn't like me back? What if this ruins everything?"
Echo let out a long, exasperated sigh, running a hand through his black hair, which now flickered with a nostalgic yellow. "Frank, I had the exact same thought with Skate. I was terrified. But I took the plunge, literally and metaphorically, and I told her how I felt. And now… now we've been going steady for a while. You have to take the risk."
Frank wrung his hands. "I can't, Echo. I'm too scared."
Echo's yellow hair flared with a challenging red. "Aren't you a Gryffindor, Frank? Aren't you supposed to be brave?"
Frank, stung, shot back, "Well, aren't you a Slytherin? Aren't you supposed to be evil?"
Echo, without a moment's hesitation, reached out and punched Frank lightly on the head.
"Ow!" Frank yelped, rubbing the spot. "Alright, alright! Sorry! That was too far!"
Echo fixed him with a stern, determined gaze, his red hair settling into a resolute blue. "Good. Now listen. If you won't say it, then I'll say it for you."
"Echo, no, wait!" Frank cried, his face a sudden mask of panic and bright crimson. But Echo, his blue hair blazing with a righteous, unyielding determination, merely pushed past him, striding directly towards Alice.
Alice, who had been watching the exchange with a bewildered frown, blinked as Echo stopped in front of her. "Alice," Echo began, his voice clear and resonant, cutting through the growing tension, "Frank likes you. A lot."
Alice's eyes went wide, and she stared at Echo for a long moment, utterly blank. "What?" she finally managed, her voice a faint squeak.
Echo repeated himself, his voice firm and unwavering, his blue hair pulsing with exasperation. "Frank likes you. This wasn't just an outing between 'good friends,' Alice, this was a date, and Frank was too much of a nervous, blithering idiot to admit the truth." He ran a hand through his hair, which now flickered with agitated yellow. "And I, for one, really don't want to see the long, drawn-out trope of 'will they, won't they' until the school year ends, or their graduation, or until it's too late and one of them is pining for the other across seven seas." He gestured emphatically towards Frank, who was now a trembling, blushing mess. "So please, for the love of Merlin, just go up to Frank and admit how you feel so we can all be done with this excruciating charade!"
Alice, still looking stunned, slowly turned to look at Frank. Frank, his face now a magnificent shade of beet red, fidgeted, avoiding her gaze, his feet scuffing against the forest floor. Taking a deep breath, Alice slowly approached him. "Frank?" she asked softly, her voice still a little hesitant. "Do you…do you like me?"
After another moment of agonizing silence, Frank finally met her gaze. His voice was barely a whisper. "Yes, Alice. I do."
A shy, hopeful smile spread across Alice's face. "Good," she said, her voice growing stronger. "Because I like you too. I just… I wasn't sure how to bring it up."
Echo clapped his hands together, a loud, triumphant sound that made both Frank and Alice jump. His yellow hair blazed with unadulterated relief and joy. "Finally!" he declared, throwing his arms wide. "Now you two can kiss, mazel tov to both of you!" He then turned towards Wick, who had been patiently observing the entire dramatic exchange with a look of mild, reptilian interest. "I'm gonna make myself scarce," he announced, already climbing onto Wick's back. "Happy birthday, Alice! Don't let him mess it up!"
With a final, mischievous grin and a powerful beat of her wings, Wick launched into the twilight sky, carrying Echo away. Frank and Alice blushed and smiled in the clearing.
The next day, the Transfiguration classroom, usually bustling with students and the animated clatter of transforming objects, was eerily quiet. The last rays of the setting sun, filtered through the high Gothic windows, cast long, dancing shadows across the polished floor. Only the soft scratching of chalk on a blackboard and the rhythmic tapping of a wand broke the silence. Echo, his black hair a determined blue, stood before a tall, ornate birdcage, his wand held with intense focus. Inside, a plump, fluffy Puffskein blinked its large, curious eyes at him. Minerva McGonagall, her severe expression softened by a hint of approval, observed him from beside a desk, her own wand resting lightly in her hand.
"Very good, Mr. Echo," she said, her voice crisp but encouraging. "Your command of the basic Transfiguration spells has improved remarkably. Your precision is admirable, and your focus… well, it is almost as if your very hair is aiding your concentration." She paused, a small, almost imperceptible smile touching her lips. "Now, for something a little more challenging. I want you to transfigure this Puffskein."
Echo's blue hair flickered with a touch of surprised green. "The Puffskein, Professor?"
"Indeed," McGonagall replied, gesturing to a small, hard-shelled fruit that sat on her desk. "I want you to transfer the aspects of this hard-shelled fruit onto the soft and cuddly Puffskein. Not to transform it entirely, mind you, but to give its fur the rigidity and resilience of the shell. A delicate balance of preservation and alteration. It will require immense concentration and a nuanced understanding of the magical properties involved. This exercise, I believe, will further develop your… unique approach to magic, Mr. Echo."
Echo nodded, his green hair settling into a focused black. This was exactly the kind of intricate, challenging magic he needed to master to develop his Beast Magic further. He turned back to the creature, raising his wand. His black hair pulsed with a deep, concentrated blue as he began to weave the complex spell, visualizing the intricate molecular changes, the subtle transference of properties from fruit to fur. The air around the Puffskein began to shimmer faintly.
Just as the spell was taking hold, the heavy classroom door burst open with a resounding BANG!
"Echo! I need to talk to you right now!" James Potter's voice boomed, completely oblivious to the delicate magical operation in progress.
Echo jumped, startled by the sudden, loud interruption. His wand twitched, and the delicate balance of the spell shattered. His blue hair flared violently, chaotically crimson, and with a deafening CRACK! An explosion erupted from the spot. A cloud of thick, acrid smoke filled the room, and small, dark, burnt scraps of fur flew everywhere.
Echo stared at the billowing smoke, his crimson hair fading to a pale, horrified grey. He squeaked in terror, his eyes wide and unblinking. "Oh my Merlin!" he whimpered, his voice barely audible. "I… I blew up the Puffskein! I killed him!"
Minerva McGonagall, her face a mask of utter shock, stood frozen, a stray piece of charred fur caught in her perfectly coiffed bun. Suddenly, from behind a stack of books, a tiny, singed Puffskein tentatively poked its head out, its large eyes blinking owlishly. It let out a soft, nervous purr, completely unharmed, having instinctively jumped to a safer spot away at the first sign of magical instability.
Echo let out a profound, shuddering sigh of relief, his grey hair rapidly brightening to a relieved yellow. "Oh, thank Merlin!" he breathed, almost collapsing. "I missed! I actually missed!" He then spun around, his yellow hair blazing with righteous fury, and fixed James with a murderous glare. "James Potter! What in the blazes were you thinking?! Sneaking up on me while I was in the middle of a delicate transfiguration spell?! You nearly gave me a heart attack, you blithering idiot! You almost made me blow up an innocent Puffskein!"
James, however, remained unfazed, his face a mask of determined urgency. "This is more important, Echo! Trust me!"
Echo threw his hands up in exasperation, his yellow hair flaring with acute annoyance. He turned to Minerva, who was already surveying the singed remnants of the classroom with a grim expression. "Professor McGonagall, can we please take five? I need to deal with… this." He gestured vaguely at James.
Minerva sighed, running a hand over her still-slightly-charred bun. "Indeed, Mr. Echo. I suppose I have a rather extensive cleaning job ahead of me anyway. Just try not to cause any further explosions in the hallway."
With a curt nod to Minerva, Echo stomped out of the classroom, James hot on his heels. Once in the deserted corridor, Echo spun around, his black hair pulsing with barely contained irritation. "Alright, James! What in Merlin's name is so monumentally important that it nearly cost a Puffskein its life and my sanity?"
James shifted his weight, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. He glanced around, as if checking for eavesdroppers, then leaned in conspiratorially. "Well, I've just been hearing some stuff around school, you know? Whispers, rumors… And I was just wondering… are you and Lily… you know?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Echo stared at him, his black hair slowly shifting from irritated black to a dazed, utterly bewildered purple. He blinked once, twice, then shook his head, as if clearing it. "Did… did you just ask me if Lily and I are… a thing?" he whispered, his voice laced with profound disbelief. "Forgive me, James, I think I just had a mini-stroke."
James nodded, completely serious. "Yeah, Echo. Are you and Lily together?"
Echo's eyes widened to the size of Galleons. He took a staggering step back, then spotted a nearby suit of armor, standing silent sentinel in the corridor. With a wild glint in his eye, Echo rushed towards it. "Helmet!" he demanded, his voice strained. The suit of armor, after a moment of what seemed like sentient surprise, obligingly lifted its heavy visor, then its helmet. Echo snatched it, slammed it onto his head, and then, with a primal scream that rattled the ancient stones of Hogwarts, let out a prolonged, guttural yell of pure, unadulterated frustration into its metallic confines.
He finally pulled the helmet off, his face red and slightly sweaty, and handed it back to the stunned suit of armor. He took a few deep, shuddering breaths, his purple hair slowly fading to a calm, resolute blue. He fixed James with an unblinking stare. "Alright, James," he said, his voice dangerously low and controlled. "I am going to say this next part so simply, so clearly, that even a Puffskein will understand it. Are you ready?"
James, who had been watching the entire spectacle with a mixture of alarm and genuine bewilderment, nodded mutely.
"Good," Echo continued, each word carefully enunciated. "Lily. And. I. Are. Not. A. Thing." His blue hair flared with emphasis. "I may have feelings for Lily, but they are not romantic. They are purely platonic. I think of her as an older sister. So, whether we hang out, hug, or kiss on the cheek, there is absolutely no romantic subtext going on. None. Zero. Only platonic, sibling love. Got it? And in case you forgot, which you apparently did," Echo said, his blue hair flickering with exasperation, "I already have a girlfriend. Why would I go around being a player when I already have the best play? Besides, I'm kinda, sorta, but also not married to her."
"What?" James asked, utterly bewildered.
"There was this thing called a Pact Stone she gave to me during Christmas," Echo explained with a dismissive wave of his hand, his blue hair settling into a matter-of-fact black. "It's a long story. The bottom line is that Lily and I are friends and will be nothing but friends forever until the sun explodes. Got it?"
"Oh, thank Merlin!" James exclaimed, a genuine sigh of relief escaping him. "That's a relief. I was afraid I'd have to fight a child."
Echo raised an eyebrow, his black hair pulsing with a challenging yellow. "Did you forget what happened the last time we fought, James? When I 1v4'd you and the other Marauders with no magic and just my fists?"
James visibly shivered, a faint memory of pain flashing across his face. "I remember now," he mumbled, rubbing his jaw.
Echo sighed, his yellow hair softening to a resigned blue. "Good. Now, listen. Your only love rival for Lily is Severus."
James let out a booming laugh, his confidence immediately returning. "Severus? Ha! I've got this one in the bag, Echo!"
Echo simply raised an eyebrow, a hint of dry amusement in his hollow eyes. "Do you really?"
"What do you mean by that, Echo?" James asked, his earlier confidence wavering slightly, replaced by a suspicious frown.
Echo merely raised an eyebrow, his blue hair darkening to a thoughtful indigo. "Think about it, James. You and Severus are rivals for Lily's affections; that's clear enough. But Severus… he has a better chance with her than you do."
James scoffed, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "A better chance? With Snivellus? Don't be ridiculous, Echo! He's a greasy dungeon bat with the social skills of a pissy Kneazle and more edge than a straight razor! Not to mention, he talks like he has constant nasal congestion! What on earth makes you think he has a better shot?"
Echo sighed, his indigo hair flickering with exasperation. "Because, James, despite all of that, every time Lily is around him, she brings out the brighter, better parts of him. He actually tries to be less… himself. And let's not forget, they have a lot more history together than you give them credit for." He paused, his gaze hardening slightly. "On the other hand, you, James, are a mischief-maker. You're almost constantly in detention or getting into trouble on purpose, and you bully other kids, especially Severus, with the other two dunderheads and Remus. Lily may have seen both of your bad parts, but she's also seen Severus's good parts. And you, James, refuse to grow up and learn to be better. Lily sees that. You may both be in the same uphill race for her heart, but Severus has a significant head start, and you, my friend, are being left in the dust."
James clenched his jaw, his eyes blazing with indignation. "You really think that, Echo?" he practically growled, stepping closer, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "You honestly think Snivellus has a better chance with Lily than I do?"
Echo met his gaze, his indigo hair settling into a calm, unyielding blue. "Those are your words, James, not mine," he replied, his voice even. "I'm merely commenting on what I observe. What I see."
"Oh, you'll see alright!" James exploded, his face contorting in a furious scowl. "I'll show you! And I'll show Snivellus! I'll show everyone that I can be better! I'll win Lily's heart, and I'll prove I'm better than him, just you watch!" With that, he turned on his heel and stomped away, his footsteps echoing angrily down the deserted corridor.
Echo watched him go, then shook his head, a long-suffering sigh escaping his lips. His blue hair flickered with a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Honestly, that boy is such a freak," he muttered to himself. He turned back towards the Transfiguration classroom, where Minerva McGonagall was patiently tidying up. "Professor McGonagall," he called out, his voice slightly strained, "can we perhaps break for tea? I seem to have developed a rather splitting headache."