The morning after his unforgettable birthday, Echo found himself skipping through the corridors of Hogwarts, a faint, contented hum escaping his lips. His black hair, a soft, joyful blue, swayed with each buoyant step. He had no particular destination in mind, simply reveling in the lingering warmth of his celebration. The idea of a birthday, of being celebrated, was still a novel and delightful sensation, filling him with an almost childlike glee. He took a corner, then another, his gaze drifting over the familiar tapestries and moving portraits, not truly seeing them, lost in his own thoughts.
After a few minutes, he finally came to a halt, shaking his head slightly. The hum died in his throat. He looked around, his blue hair flickering with mild confusion. He had no idea where he was. The corridor was unfamiliar, quieter than most, its walls plain stone. Just then, he noticed it – a long hallway stretching into the distance, illuminated by a line of lit candles on both sides, their gentle flames casting dancing shadows all the way until they disappeared from sight.
"Hello?" Echo called out, his voice echoing in the stillness. "Is anyone there? Peeves, is that you? Trying out some new joke I'm not getting?"
Suddenly, all the candles went out at once, plunging the hallway into utter darkness. Echo blinked, his blue hair flickering with confusion. He reached for his wand, muttering a nonverbal spell. Lumos Maxima. With a soft pop, the candles flared back to life, their individual flames rekindling as if on cue.
"Alright, Peeves, I know it's you!" Echo called out again, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "What's the big idea? I'm not scared of the dark, you know."
From the end of the hallway, an exasperated groan preceded Sirius Black's appearance. He stormed into view, his black hair disheveled, his eyes narrowed. "What in Merlin's name are you doing, Echo?" he demanded, his voice a furious whisper. You just ruined the whole thing!"
Echo blinked, his blue hair shifting to a curious yellow. "I could ask you the same thing, Black. What are you doing? And what 'thing' did I ruin?"
Sirius stared at him, his mouth agape. "Why aren't you freaking out? In fear! Utter, unadulterated fear!"
Echo looked at the line of lit candles, then back at Sirius, his yellow hair dimming slightly. "Are you asking if I'm afraid of candles, Black?" he asked, a faint, incredulous note in his voice.
"Yes!" Sirius practically shrieked, clearly frustrated. "Of course, I am! Why aren't you?"
"I'm not afraid of candles, Sirius," Echo said slowly, as if explaining something obvious to a particularly dense child. "Why on earth would you think I'm afraid of candles?"
Sirius launched into a rapid-fire explanation, gesturing wildly. "Because I heard from this bloke, who heard from this other bloke, who overheard from a Ravenclaw, who got it from a Hufflepuff who knows a Gryffindor whose cousin's aunt's best friend's neighbour's cat sitter heard that when you fought a Boggart in Defense Against the Dark Arts, it turned into a candle that went out! So I figured, brilliant prank, right? Set up a whole hallway of candles, wait for you to come by, extinguish them all, and watch you completely lose your mind in terror! I even bought a bunch of them!"
Echo held up a hand, his yellow hair flaring an indignant red. "Hold on, Black! You're going to give me a brain hemorrhage! Just get to the point, for Merlin's sake!" He rubbed his temples. "And did you just say you 'bought' a bunch of candles?"
Sirius looked momentarily flustered, but quickly recovered. "Well, 'bought' in the sense that I 'acquired' them from the storerooms. From the school, yes." He beamed, clearly proud of his resourcefulness.
Echo groaned, burying his face in his hands. His black hair, which had been a contented green, flickered to a weary blue. "Black, I'm not afraid of candles. I'm afraid of what they represent." He lifted his head, his hollow eyes fixed on the other boy. "Which is nothing."
Black scoffed, his own dark hair falling over his eyes. "You can't be scared of nothing, Echo. That's just... daft."
Echo let out a long, suffering sigh. "I'm not literally scared of nothing, Black. I'm scared of the concept of nothing. The absence of anything. The void. The sheer emptiness of everything." His blue hair darkened to a thoughtful indigo. "Unless you can literally make the void, you've got no luck in scaring me. Unless you want to dress up as Lucius Malfoy, but then again, seeing you in a blonde wig would be more funny than anything." Echo's hair flickered with a hint of amusement. "Besides, why are you even trying to pull a prank on me? I thought we were at least tolerating one another, seeing as we have Lucius as a common enemy."
Black grinned, throwing an arm around Echo's shoulders. "What's a few good pranks among friends?"
Shimmer, who had been perched on Echo's shoulder, immediately slapped Black's arm off with a surprisingly strong silver ripple.
Echo shrugged off the lingering contact, his blue hair settling back into a calm, dismissive black. "We are not friends."
"Ah, right," Black grumbled, rubbing the back of his head with a wince. "Almost forgot that little piece of information, what with the head injury I'm still sporting from that heart-shaped rock you threw at me on Valentine's Day!" he finished, his voice rising in an indignant roar.
Echo merely gave him a coy smile, his black hair flickering with amusement. "That was my way of showing my affection for you, Black."
Black growled, a low, guttural sound that vibrated with suppressed fury.
Echo, however, merely waved a hand dismissively, his blue hair flickering with an almost bored indifference. "If you're quite finished playing mean-spirited jokes that prey on the deepest fears and traumas of others, you shouldn't do this again unless you want to shatter our fragile peace treaty." He paused, a flicker of something unreadable in his hollow eyes. "Just before I go, one more thing." Echo then adopted an overly dramatic and comically sinister expression, pointing a finger at Black. "Do NOT go into the dungeon!" As if on cue, a crack of lightning illuminated the sky outside, momentarily flashing through the windows for dramatic effect.
Black, entirely unimpressed by the sudden flair, merely raised an eyebrow. "Why?" he asked, his voice flat.
Echo, maintaining his overly dramatic pose, simply shook his head. "It doesn't matter to you, so long as you don't go into the dungeon." With that, he vanished, leaving Black alone with a lingering sense of bewilderment.
Black watched Echo vanish, then stood there for a long moment, the lit candles flickering around him. He slowly turned, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Well, that was… anticlimactic."
He retraced his steps, the candles winking out behind him as he passed. He found James, Remus, and Peter in an empty classroom, huddled over a Half-Blood Prince book, whispering excitedly about their next prank idea.
"You'll never guess what just happened," Sirius announced, throwing himself into a chair. "Echo just ruined my master plan."
James looked up, a scowl on his face. "Did you finally get him with the exploding dungbombs?"
"No, you dolt!" Sirius exclaimed, exasperated. "The candle prank! The one I spent all morning setting up!" He recounted the entire exchange, growing more animated with each detail. "And then, the absolute nerve of him! He says he's not afraid of candles, he's afraid of... nothing! The void! The sheer emptiness of everything!"
Remus, who had been listening with a mixture of amusement and concern, finally spoke, a serious expression on his face. "Sirius, that was mean. You shouldn't have done that to Echo. Given his past, it's completely out of line to try and exploit his fears like that."
James, however, was still stuck on a different point. "That's all well and good, Moony, but it still doesn't explain a single thing about why we're going to the dungeon."
Sirius grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Because Echo told us not to."
Peter, ever the follower, nodded. "Works for me."
Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Of course it does."
The four Marauders set off, their footsteps echoing down the deserted corridors. As they began to descend the stone steps leading to the dungeons, they encountered Severus Snape, who was emerging from the shadows, his expression as sour as ever.
"Potter. And the other dregs," Severus drawled, his voice dripping with disdain.
"Snivellus," James returned, a smirk on his face.
Severus's lip curled. "If you're headed down to the dungeons, I'd advise against it. There's a gorgon down there."
The Marauders burst into laughter. Peter, still chuckling, managed to gasp, "Sure, Snape. And I'm the Queen of England."
Severus merely shrugged, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips. "As you wish. It's your funeral." He then swept past them, his black robes billowing, leaving the Marauders to continue their descent, their laughter slowly fading into a nervous silence.
The cold, damp air of the dungeons wrapped around the Marauders like a shroud, their footsteps echoing eerily in the oppressive silence. They fanned out, wands at the ready, though their bravado seemed to shrink with every shadowed corner.
"See?" James whispered, his voice a little too loud in the stillness. "Nothing. Snape's just trying to scare us."
"Yeah, for all the crazy stuff at Hogwarts, even Dumbledore wouldn't let a gorgon wander around," Sirius added, trying to sound nonchalant as he peered into a particularly dark alcove.
Peter, however, was still visibly nervous. "But what if… what if he wasn't lying? What if there is a gorgon down here?"
Remus sighed, rolling his eyes. "Peter, think logically. Where would they keep it? What would it eat? No, Snape's just being Snape. Trying to keep us out of trouble, in his own twisted way."
Just as Remus finished speaking, a low, guttural hiss echoed from around a bend in the corridor. A shadow, far too large and sinuous to be human, stretched across the stone floor on a glittering snake tail. Their eyes, wide with sudden, genuine horror, fixed on the approaching menace. Then, she turned the corner. A creature of nightmare, with emerald scales glinting in the faint light, a mass of writhing, venomous snakes for hair, and eyes that glowed with an eerie, petrifying green. She was immense, powerful, and glaring directly at them.
"HOLY HELL!" James shrieked, his face draining of color.
"RUN!" Sirius bellowed, already spinning on his heel.
They scattered, a blur of panicked movement, their wands forgotten in their terror. The gorgon, with a surprisingly swift and fluid motion, began to slither after them, its serpentine hair hissing with malicious glee.
"Which way is out?!" Peter cried, his voice high-pitched and frantic, as they ran blindly down corridor after corridor, each one looking identical to the last. Panic began to set in, a cold, suffocating grip that made their lungs burn and their legs ache.
"I don't know! They all look the same!" James gasped, narrowly avoiding a swinging tail that whipped past his ear, leaving a scorch mark on the stone.
Suddenly, a loud yelp of pain tore through the air. Remus, who had lagged slightly behind, was caught! The gorgon's powerful, scaled tail had wrapped around his leg, lifting him clean off the ground.
"REMUS!" James and Sirius screamed in unison, their voices filled with futile desperation as they continued to sprint, unable to help their friend.
The gorgon pulled Remus closer, its snake-hair snapping and hissing, its terrifying face inches from his. Peter, glancing back, let out a choked sob. "I don't want to be a statue! I don't want to be a statue!" he wailed, burying his face in his hands as he ran.
They rounded a corner, only to find themselves in a dead end, a solid stone wall mocking their desperate escape. The gorgon, its massive form filling the narrow passage, advanced, trapping them. Its fangs gleamed, inches from their faces, the snakes in its hair swaying menacingly. They squeezed their eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable, for the cold, unyielding embrace of stone. But the petrifying gaze never came. Instead, a burst of high-pitched, childish laughter erupted, echoing off the dungeon walls. They cautiously opened their eyes. The gorgon was still there, but its terrifying features were now contorted with uncontrollable mirth. Its snake hair wiggled with amusement, and its eyes, though still green, twinkled with a familiar, mischievous light. Then, with a shimmer of magic, the scales, the snakes, and the terrifying eyes all melted away. Standing before them, doubled over with laughter, was Echo, his blue hair blazing with triumphant yellow. He was holding a discarded mask and a coiled, green enchanted rope that had served as his tail. He was still wearing the elaborate, illusory costume of the gorgon.
"You guys should have seen your faces!" Echo choked out, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "Absolutely priceless!"
Just then, a familiar click of a camera shutter cut through the stunned silence. Echo's head snapped up. There, at the edge of the crowd, a young Hufflepuff student with sharp, knowing eyes and a camera held aloft was Rita Skeeter, the head editor of the Hogwarts Daily Prophet. She snapped another photo, capturing the mixture of horror and relief on the Marauders' faces, as well as Echo's triumphant grin.
"This'll make a great headline!" Rita cackled, a triumphant, malicious sound.
Echo sighed, his yellow hair flickering with resignation. "Even though Rita's a louse, she's a reliable louse."
Rita Skeeter, momentarily taken aback, beamed, her triumphant cackle softening into a self-satisfied smirk. "Why, thank you, dear boy! A compliment from such an… unconventional source is always appreciated."
"THAT WASN'T FUNNY, ECHO!" James shrieked, his voice raw with indignation and lingering terror.
"I almost wet myself!" Sirius exclaimed, his face still pale.
"I did wet myself!" Peter wailed, a fresh wave of tears springing to his eyes.
Echo's triumphant grin immediately vanished, replaced by a look of profound disgust. His yellow hair flickered to a horrified green. "Ew, Peter! T.M.I! And of course it wasn't funny! It was hilarious! You should've seen your faces when you thought the big bad gorgon was going to add you to the Hogwarts sculpture park. Though, to be honest, the three fools sound like a good art piece. And besides, it's not like I played on your fears or phobias or even traumas, right, Black? It's not like any of you have a phobia of snakes."
"I do now!" Peter wailed, still trembling.
"Stop whining, Peter," Echo retorted, his green hair flickering with annoyance.
James, still looking utterly shell-shocked, ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "He… he got us," he admitted, his voice a strained whisper. He looked at Echo, then back at the others. "I don't know whether to try and get him back, or just… compliment him for setting this up so fast."
Echo merely shrugged, his green hair flickering with nonchalance. "Turnabout is fair play, Potter."
Sirius, finally catching his breath, frowned. "Wait, what happened to Remus? He got… he got dragged off by the tail!"
Just then, Remus Lupin calmly strolled around the corner, his usual calm demeanor entirely intact, a faint, amused smile playing on his lips.
"Remus!" James, Sirius, and Peter cried in unison, rushing forward, immense relief flooding their faces. "Are you alright? Why didn't you yell that it was fake?"
Remus chuckled, shaking his head. "When Echo 'caught' me with his tail," he explained, a knowing glint in his eyes, "he quickly gave me the rundown. I decided to play along, if only to teach you three a much-needed lesson." He paused, then added, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "And to be perfectly honest, seeing Peter's face as he ran was rather satisfying. But not his pants."
James turned to Echo, a new question forming on his lips. "Wait a minute," he said, his voice tinged with suspicion. "What did Snape mean by warning us about a gorgon earlier? Don't tell me he was in on this, too!"
Just then, Severus Snape emerged from a shadowed alcove further down the corridor, his usual sneer firmly in place. "And who do you think crafted that 'gorgon disguise,' Potter?" he drawled, his dark eyes fixed on Echo. "Echo, for all his… unconventional talents, hardly possesses the refined and conventional touch required for such an illusion."
The Marauders, their faces still a mixture of relief and indignation, stared at Snape. "When did you get a sense of humor, Snivellus?" James demanded, utterly bewildered.
Severus merely sniffed, adjusting his robes. "I assure you, Potter, I do possess a sense of humor. I simply do not always choose to display it. Especially not to you."
Echo clapped Severus on the back with a resounding thwack, making the Potions Master stiffen. "See, James?" Echo crowed, his yellow hair blazing with a triumphant grin. "Not all Slytherins are stuffy and humorless. Just some of them...okay, most of them."
Severus merely shot Echo a venomous glare, rubbing his now slightly disheveled back. "Do not presume to speak for me, Echo. And remove your hand."
Sirius, however, was still grappling with the sheer audacity of the prank. "Alright, I get it, you got us," he conceded, though his voice still held a hint of indignation. "But how in Merlin's name did you get all this set up so fast? We just saw you on the seventh floor!"
Echo shrugged, his yellow hair flickering with nonchalance. "Simple. After I left you, Black, I knew you'd be too predictable for your own good. Tell a Marauder not to go somewhere, and that's precisely where he'll go. So, I had to act fast." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I scribbled a quick note to Rita and had Shimmer deliver it – she's surprisingly good at navigating the castle discreetly. Then, I sprinted down to the dungeons. I found Severus and, on the fly, pitched him my brilliant plan. Surprisingly, he agreed to help with the disguise. He's quite the artist, actually. Quite an eye for detail."
Severus merely huffed, turning his head away to hide a faint, almost imperceptible twitch of his lips.
"Okay, but still!" Sirius exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "You were just on the seventh floor! We would have seen you running down to the dungeons! We were literally heading that way!"
Echo blinked at him, his yellow hair shifting to a casual, almost bored blue. "Oh, that? I didn't run, Black." He paused, a faint, mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "I jumped."
A stunned silence fell over the Marauders. James's jaw dropped. Peter let out a faint squeak. Even Remus, usually unflappable, looked at Echo with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"You… you jumped?" James finally managed to stammer out, his voice a bewildered whisper.
Echo nodded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "From the seventh floor, yes. It was rather efficient. However, I almost overshot the landing. Luckily, a very sturdy suit of armor caught me just in time. Quite the soft landing, actually."
Just as Echo finished his explanation, a new figure turned the corner, her expression stern, her tartan shawl wrapped tightly around her. It was Minerva McGonagall, her gaze sweeping over the scene—the disheveled Marauders, Peter's suspiciously damp trousers, Severus's barely concealed smirk, and Echo, still holding his gorgon mask. A long, suffering sigh escaped her lips.
"Mr. Echo, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Pettigrew, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Snape," she began, her voice dangerously calm. "One day, you all will collectively give me a full head of grey hair before you graduate. Mark my words." Before any of them could attempt to explain, Minerva held up a hand, a gesture that immediately silenced them. "Do not bother," she said, her voice sharp. "I am fully aware of everything that has transpired here. Every last detail."
Echo, his blue hair flickering with genuine confusion, began to open his mouth. "Professor, could you also know—"
"I am also aware, Mr. Echo," Minerva interrupted, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Sirius, "of Mr. Black's rather ill-conceived attempt to 'prank' you with an assortment of stolen candles."
Sirius, attempting to look nonchalant, shrugged. "Just a few candles, Professor. Nothing to worry about. Standard school supplies, really." He tried for a charming smile, which quickly faltered under McGonagall's piercing gaze.
Echo, his blue hair flickering with genuine curiosity, interjected, "But Professor, how did you even know about that? I mean, I did jump from the seventh floor, but that wouldn't necessarily tell you about stolen candles, would it? Unless you just have eyes everywhere, which, honestly, wouldn't surprise me."
A high-pitched, mischievous cackle echoed through the dungeon, and Peeves, no longer in pixie form but hovering upside down near the ceiling, swung back and forth, his translucent form shimmering. "Oh, it was me, little human!" he shrieked, his eyes glinting with glee. "Peeves sees all! And it was ever so much funnier to tell the grumpy old cat where to find all the naughty little pranksters! Funny for the pranks, funny for the punishments! Double the fun!"
Echo sighed, his blue hair settling into a resigned black. He looked from Peeves to Minerva, then back to the Marauders, who were now glaring at the poltergeist. "Well," he admitted, running a hand through his hair, "I suppose I'd be a hypocrite to be angry, wouldn't I? I did say, 'turnabout is fair play.'"
Minerva McGonagall fixed the group with a stern look. "Indeed, Mr. Echo. A sentiment you might do well to remember. For the initial, ill-conceived prank involving the stolen candles, twenty points will be deducted from Gryffindor. And another five points, for general chaos, including knowingly walking straight into it." She paused, her gaze sweeping over the Marauders, who groaned in unison. "However," she continued, turning to Echo and Severus, "five points will be deducted from Slytherin for the counter-prank, and another twenty for jumping from the seventh floor, Mr. Echo, and nearly giving me heart palpitations."
Echo winced, his black hair flickering with a sheepish orange.
Minerva's gaze, however, swung towards Rita Skeeter, who was attempting to blend into the crowd and sneak away subtly. "And as for you, Miss Skeeter," Minerva's voice cut through the air like a whip, "five points will be deducted from Hufflepuff for getting involved in this, even if to a very minor degree."
Rita Skeeter merely shrugged, a defiant glint in her eyes. "That's quite all right, Professor. The media has its needs, and I, my dear Professor, have my story." With a final, triumphant cackle, she turned and sprinted off, undoubtedly already composing the scandalous headlines in her mind, eager to plaster them across the front page of the Hogwarts Daily Prophet.
"However," Minerva added, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching her lips, "five points will be awarded to Slytherin for the creativity of the counter-prank, and the fact that it was, for all its theatrics, far less destructive than anything Mr. Black is usually capable of. And another ten points," she concluded, looking at Severus, "for Mr. Snape's surprisingly convincing gorgon illusion."
The Marauders let out another collective groan, several of them muttering under their breath.
Minerva's eyes narrowed. "Is there something you would prefer, gentlemen? Perhaps something worse than deducting house points?"
Before any of the Marauders could reply, Echo and Severus, in a rare moment of unspoken agreement, clapped their hands over the Marauders' mouths.
"No, Professor!" Echo said, his voice muffled by James's flailing hand. "House point deduction is perfectly fine! Absolutely fine!"
Severus merely grunted in agreement, his hand still clamped firmly over Sirius's mouth, his dark eyes conveying a silent threat.
Minerva McGonagall surveyed the scene, a faint, almost imperceptible shake of her head escaping her. "Very well," she said, her voice dry. "Now, if you will all kindly proceed to your next classes without further… incidents. And Mr. Echo, I trust you will refrain from further airborne methods of transportation, no matter how 'efficient' they may seem."
Echo, still holding James's mouth shut, managed a sheepish nod, his orange hair dimming to a humble black. As the professors began to disperse and the students slowly started to move, the Marauders pulled free, glaring at Echo and Severus.
"This isn't over, Echo!" James hissed, his eyes glinting with a renewed mischievous fire.
Echo merely grinned, his black hair flickering with a confident blue. "I wouldn't expect it to be, Potter. After all, what's life without a little… friendly competition?"
Severus, however, had the last word, his sneer firmly back in place. "Indeed, Potter. Though I highly doubt your limited intellect is capable of conceiving anything that could genuinely challenge either of us."
With that, Severus swept away, leaving the Marauders fuming and Echo chuckling. The echoes of their chaotic morning faded into the usual hum of Hogwarts life.