Echo watched the tiny dragon explore his makeshift bed of leaves, its small tail twitching with curiosity. It was adorable, undeniably so, but as the initial rush of exhilaration faded, a stark, terrifying realization set in. He had a baby dragon. A baby dragon. In his pocket. In Hogwarts. This was, unequivocally, the most reckless and utterly insane thing he had ever done.
"Sniffles," he whispered to the Niffler, who was now attempting to extract a shimmering scale from the dragon's back. "What have I done?"
Sniffles merely chirped, oblivious to the impending disaster. The little dragon, meanwhile, let out a soft burp, a tiny wisp of smoke curling from its nostrils. Smoke. A baby dragon that could breathe smoke. And soon, fire. This wasn't a Niffler, easily hidden in a pocket or under a bed. This was a creature that would grow, and grow quickly. He couldn't keep it in the dormitory. It would be discovered in minutes. He couldn't keep it in the common room. The entire school would know. Even with his expanded pocket, the dragon wouldn't stay small forever. And what did dragons eat? How fast did they grow? He knew absolutely nothing about raising a magical creature of this magnitude. He was in way, way over his head.
His gaze drifted to the dark expanse of the Forbidden Forest, just beyond the castle grounds. It was dangerous, yes, but it was also vast, secluded, and teeming with wildlife. It was the only place. He would have to keep the dragon there. But how? How would he feed it? How would he protect it? And how would he keep it a secret? The thought filled him with a fresh wave of anxiety. He had just gone through a monumental, soul-cleansing magical experience, and now he was immediately plunged into a logistical nightmare of dragon-rearing. He spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, the tiny dragon nestled carefully in his pocket, occasionally stirring and emitting a soft, sleepy chirp. Sleep offered no escape; his dreams were a chaotic mix of frantic dragon-feeding attempts and increasingly large, fire-breathing nightmares.
The next morning, Echo dragged himself to breakfast, bleary-eyed and overwhelmed. He poked at his porridge, his mind racing, trying to devise a plan. He needed information, and he needed it fast. Maybe the library? But what book would even cover "how to secretly raise a baby dragon in a forbidden magical forest"? As he left the Great Hall, lost in thought, he bumped squarely into a red-haired girl from Gyrfindor, nearly knocking a stack of parchments from her hands.
"Whoa, watch it, Echo!" The girl grumbled, adjusting her papers.
"Sorry," Echo mumbled, distracted.
Right at that time, Severus practically marched up to the two of them and began to say in a much softer tone than what he was known for. "Lilly, there you are, I've been meaning to—" he began to ask until he saw the vacant Echo standing in front of her. His demeanor changed, as if slipping into a mask, and he said, "I see you've met the newest and only first year in Slytherin."
"Oh! This is him, Sev?" A young woman with fiery red hair, a shade so vibrant it seemed to hum with its own energy, stepped forward. Her eyes, a startling emerald green, danced with curiosity as they took in the newcomer.
"Sev?" Echo prompted, coming out of his sleeplessness and deep thought.
Severus finally gestured between them, his voice a low rumble. "Echo, this is Lilly. Lilly, this is Echo."
Lilly's hand shot out, her smile warm. "Nice to meet you." Echo looked at the girl, looked at her bright red hair, and without even a moment of hesitation, he grabbed and yanked it! "OW!" Lilly yelped, recoiling sharply.
"Echo! What the bloody hell is wrong with you!?" Severus yelled at him, standing between the girl and the boy.
Echo, still out of his wits, blinked a few times, sheepishly saying, "Sorry, I thought it was fake."
Lilly's eyebrows shot up. "You think my hair is fake? Have you never seen red hair before?" Her voice rose, indignation coloring her tone. The vibrant strands seemed to bristle in protest.
Severus sighed, a sound that conveyed a deep well of exasperation. "He doesn't know a lot of things, Lilly." There was a dry, almost weary amusement in his voice as he delivered the understatement.
Lilly's green eyes flickered to Severus, a knowing glint in them. "So I've heard." A hint of a smile played on her lips, suggesting a shared history and understanding between her and Severus regarding Echo's eccentricities.
Severus turned to the boy, snapped his finger to get his attention, and demanded, "What's wrong with you? Up late once more?"
"Oh yeah, I remember you telling me about his nocturnal studies. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were turning him into a mini you, Sev." She nudged him playfully, a lighthearted accusation in her tone.
Severus, for his part, managed a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head. "Please, Lilly, even I know one of me is enough." A flicker of something akin to self-deprecating humor, rare for him, crossed his features, confirming the idea that even the mysterious Sev recognized the potential for trouble in replicating himself.
"Rough morning?" Lilly asked, seeing his vacant expression. Then she seemed to remember something and asked Severus, "Oh, hey, did you see the new timetables? They just put them up."
Echo's head snapped up. New timetables? He hurried over to the notice board, a sudden, desperate hope flaring in his chest. Perhaps… perhaps there was a class, something, anything that could help him. He scanned the parchment, his eyes darting down the list of subjects. Potions, Transfiguration, Charms… then his gaze snagged on a familiar, yet entirely new, entry for his first-year schedule.
Care of Magical Creatures.
He stared at the words, a slow, incredulous smile spreading across his face. It was perfect. Almost too perfect. It was a class he hadn't had before, a brand new addition to his schedule. He looked down at his pocket, where the tiny dragon was stirring, as if sensing his sudden shift in mood. Maybe this wouldn't be so impossible after all. He had a new pet, a new secret, and now… a new opportunity to learn exactly how to keep it alive.
When the afternoon finally rolled by, Echo practically bounced out of charms class, a spring in his step despite his lack of sleep. Care of Magical Creatures. It was the answer to his prayers, a lifeline thrown to him in his dragon-induced panic. He devoured his breakfast, barely tasting the food, his mind already racing with questions about dragon diets and habitat. He needed to know everything. He arrived at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where the first-year Care of Magical Creatures class was held, a full fifteen minutes early. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. He looked around, eager to meet his new professor, whoever they might be. He vaguely remembered something about a giant, but dismissed it as a silly rumor.
Then, a voice, booming and hearty, made him jump. "Alright there, tiny wizard! A bit early, eh? Keen as mustard, are ya?"
Echo spun around, his jaw dropping. Standing before him was the largest man he had ever seen. He must have been twice the height of Dumbledore, with a wild tangle of black hair and beard that seemed to obscure most of his face, leaving only a pair of kind, crinkly eyes visible. He wore a huge, moleskin overcoat and carried a crossbow that looked more like a toy in his massive hands. This was no rumor. This was Rubeus Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.
Hagrid chuckled, a sound like distant thunder. "Don't look so shocked, little one. You're the first to arrive. Most o' 'em prefer their beds, especially for an early mornin' class in the ol' forest." He gestured around the small clearing, which was clearly designated as the classroom, with a few large stumps serving as makeshift benches.
"Professor Hagrid?" Echo managed, his voice a squeak.
Hagrid beamed. "That's me! Just Hagrid, though, for you, lot. 'Professor' sounds a bit too stuffy, don't ya think?" He winked, then his gaze fell on Echo's pocket. "Somethin' interestin' there, eh? Got a bit o' a bulge, ya do."
Echo's heart leaped into his throat. Had he noticed the dragon already? He instinctively clutched his robe. "Oh, uh, just Sniffles! My Niffler!" he stammered, forcing a nervous smile.
Hagrid's eyes twinkled. "Ah, a Niffler, eh? Clever little blighters, those. Always after somethin' shiny. Got a good nose for treasure, they do." He leaned down conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a loud whisper. "Been meanin' to get one meself, truth be told. Always got a few spare knuts layin' 'round, beggin' to be found, eh?"
Echo let out a shaky laugh, relieved that Hagrid hadn't seen through his flimsy excuse. "Yeah, he's… he's very good at finding things."
"Right then, well, take a seat, take a seat," Hagrid said, straightening up. "Others'll be here soon enough. Today, we're startin' with somethin' a bit… feathery." He gestured towards a large, wooden crate sitting near a cluster of trees.
As other students began to trickle in, a mix of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, Echo found a spot on a log, Sniffles still safely tucked away. He tried to pay attention, but his mind kept drifting back to the tiny, scaly creature currently chirping softly in his pocket. He had to find a way to ask about dragons without raising suspicion. Hagrid eventually launched into his lesson, his voice booming as he introduced a wyvern he called Balloony. The class gasped and murmured, some in awe, others in nervous apprehension. Echo watched with a mix of fascination and a growing sense of desperation. Wyverns were interesting, sure, but they weren't dragons. He needed specific, urgent information.
As the lesson progressed, Echo raised his hand. "Hagrid?"
"Yes, little wizard? Got a question about wyversn, do ya?" Hagrid asked kindly.
Echo hesitated, then plunged in. "Not exactly. It's… hypothetically speaking, of course. If someone, completely theoretically, were to… acquire a baby magical creature, say, something that grows quite large, and might breathe… well, not fire yet, but maybe smoke. What would one do? How would one… care for it?" He tried to sound casual, but his voice was trembling slightly.
Hagrid's bushy eyebrows shot up. He squinted at Echo, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "A hypothetical creature, you say? Grows large, breathes smoke? Sounds mighty specific, that does." He looked around the class, then leaned down again, his voice dropping to that loud whisper once more. "Are we talkin' about… somethin' scaly, by any chance? With wings?"
Echo swallowed, his face flushing. He nodded imperceptibly.
Hagrid straightened up, a strange look on his face. He cleared his throat. "Well, now, hypothetically speakin', if one were to stumble across a baby dragon, the very first thing one would do, hypothetically, is not keep it. Dragons are highly illegal, dangerous, and require specialized care that no first-year, or even a seasoned wizard, could provide in a school setting. They get big, they get hungry, and they get fiery. They're not pets, little wizard. They're wild beasts." He paused, his gaze fixed on Echo, a newfound seriousness in his eyes. "And hypothetically, if someone had one, they'd best be bringin' it to someone who knows how to handle such things, and right quick, before it causes a right proper catastrophe."
Echo's heart sank. He had hoped for advice, for guidance, not a lecture on illegality. He felt the tiny dragon stir, emitting a soft, sleepy chirp from his pocket. The enormity of his situation pressed down on him once more. Hagrid was right. He couldn't keep it. But he couldn't just give it up either. He had brought it back to life. It was his responsibility. The rest of the lesson passed in a blur. Echo barely heard Hagrid's enthusiastic descriptions of Wyvern biology. His mind was racing, trying to find another solution, any solution. He couldn't give up his dragon. He just couldn't. After class, as the other students dispersed, Echo lingered. Hagrid was packing up his supplies, and his back was to Echo. Taking a deep breath, Echo walked up to him.
"Hagrid," he began, his voice low and earnest. "It's… It's not hypothetical. I found one. A dragon egg. And… and I…hatched it."
Hagrid froze, his massive hands stilling around a coil of rope. He slowly turned, his eyes wide, a mix of shock and dawning horror on his face. "You… you did what now?"
Echo, emboldened by the truth, pulled back his robe, revealing the tiny red, black, and green dragon nestled in his pocket. Its emerald eyes blinked sleepily. Hagrid stared, utterly speechless, his mouth hanging slightly open. His usually kind eyes were now filled with an almost comical disbelief. He slowly reached out a huge, calloused finger, gently stroking the dragon's minuscule snout. The dragon chirped, nuzzling into his touch.
"Well, I'll be a Kneazle's uncle," Hagrid breathed, his voice barely a whisper. "A real, live baby dragon. And a Hebridean Black, by the look o' its scales. They're rare, they are. And fiery." He looked from the dragon to Echo, a profound sadness settling in his eyes. "Echo, you know this is… this is impossible. You can't keep it. It's dangerous. For you, for the school… for the dragon itself. It needs its own kind. It needs… a proper habitat."
Echo felt a fresh wave of desperation. "But I saved it! It was dead! I have to protect it! It's my redemption! I won't keep it on the school grounds, promise. Please, Hagrid, I'll do anything!"
Hagrid's large hand came down on Echo's shoulder, a surprisingly gentle weight. "Redemption, eh?" he rumbled, his eyes fixed on the tiny dragon. "Aye, I reckon that's a powerful magic, that is. Brought it back from the brink, you did. An' a Hebridean Black, no less. They're fiercely loyal once they bond. But fiercely wild, too." He sighed, a sound like deflating bellows. "Look, Echo. I ain't sayin' no. Not outright. But this ain't somethin' we can just hide under yer bed. This needs proper care. Proper protection. And it needs to be secret. Not even Dumbledore knows yet. He'd have to send it away for its own safety."
"What do we do?" Echo asked, his voice barely above a whisper, clutching the tiny dragon tighter. "I can't let anything happen to it."
Hagrid rubbed his beard, his brow furrowed in thought. "Well, now. We need a safe place, for starters. Somewhere away from prying eyes. And food. Lots of food. Dragon hatchlings are right ravenous." He looked around the edge of the forest, then his gaze fixed on a distant, barely visible rise. "There's a cave. Deep in the forest. Used to be a dragon reserve, ages ago, before they moved 'em. Might be just the spot. Bit of a trek, mind. But it's secluded. And it's got… natural warmth, sometimes. Good for a hatchling."
Echo's eyes lit up. A cave. It sounded perfect. "But how will we get it there? And what about food? I don't have any money for… dragon food."
Hagrid chuckled, a low rumble. "Don't you worry yer head about that, little wizard. I know a thing or two about dragons. And I know a few places to get… suitable provisions. As for gettin' it there, we'll go tonight. Under the cloak o' darkness. No one'll be none the wiser." He winked, a conspiratorial glint in his kind eyes. "This'll be our little secret, eh? Just you, me, and this fiery little fella." He reached out again, gently stroking the dragon, which chirped contentedly under his touch.
Echo felt a wave of profound relief that almost buckled his knees. Hagrid wasn't going to tell Dumbledore. He wasn't going to send the dragon away. He was going to help. And for the first time since that horrifying night in the clearing, Echo felt a flicker of genuine hope for the tiny life he held in his hands.
"Thank you, Hagrid," Echo said, his voice thick with gratitude. "Thank you."
"Nonsense, little wizard," Hagrid boomed, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Always happy to help a creature in need. Especially a rare beauty like this one. Now, you best get to your next class. And don't be lettin' that little fella out of your pocket till tonight, eh? We'll meet back here, right after curfew. Got it?"
Echo nodded vigorously, carefully tucking the dragon back into his robe pocket. "Got it, Hagrid." He turned and hurried back towards the castle, a light step in his stride, a tiny, warm presence in his pocket, and a secret that felt both terrifying and exhilarating.
That night, under a sky completely devoid of stars, Echo met Hagrid at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid carried a large, bulging sack over his shoulder, from which muffled squawks and rustles occasionally emanated.
"Got some… snacks," Hagrid explained with a wink, noticing Echo's curious glance at the sack. "For our little friend. Fresh from the chicken coop, they are. Don't tell Professor Grubbly-Plank."
Echo managed a nervous smile, clutching his black wand, which now felt reassuringly warm in his hand. The dragon, nestled in his pocket, seemed to be stirring with anticipation.
"Right then," Hagrid said, gesturing into the inky blackness of the forest. "Best be careful. It's a long walk, and the forest ain't exactly a stroll in the park after dark."
They walked in silence for a long time, the only sounds the rustle of leaves underfoot and the occasional hoot of a distant owl. Hagrid moved with surprising stealth for a man his size, his massive form melting into the shadows. Echo, relying on his heightened senses and the faint hum of his own magic, followed closely. The air grew colder, and the trees seemed to grow denser, their branches weaving a thick, impenetrable canopy overhead.
Eventually, they reached a particularly dense part of the forest. Hagrid stopped, sniffing the air. "Ah, here we are. Can smell the sulphur. And the warmth. Good sign."
He pushed aside a curtain of thick ivy, revealing a narrow, almost invisible opening in a rocky outcrop. "Watch yer head, little wizard. It's a tight squeeze."
Echo squeezed through the opening, emerging into a vast, cavernous space. The air inside was surprisingly warm, almost humid, and carried a faint, earthy scent mixed with a subtle, mineral tang. The cave was immense, its ceiling lost in shadow, but the floor sloped gently downwards, and he could hear the distant drip of water. A faint, reddish glow emanated from cracks in the rock walls, providing just enough light to see.
"Remarkable, innit?" Hagrid whispered, his voice echoing slightly. "Been centuries since anything lived here proper. But the warmth…it's from the deep earth. Perfect for a growing dragon." He set down his sack and carefully took the tiny dragon from Echo's pocket. The dragon, now fully awake, chirped excitedly, its emerald eyes wide as it took in its new surroundings.
Hagrid gently placed the dragon on a patch of soft, sandy earth near one of the glowing cracks. The dragon immediately began to explore, scuttling on its tiny legs, unfurling its leathery wings.
"Now for the grub," Hagrid said, rummaging in his sack. He pulled out a few plump, plucked chickens. The dragon's eyes lit up, and it let out a surprisingly loud squeal of delight, lunging at the offerings. It devoured the chickens with astonishing speed, tearing at them with its tiny, sharp teeth, a wisp of smoke curling from its nostrils with each triumphant chew.
Echo watched, fascinated. The dragon was thriving already. A profound sense of contentment settled over him, filling the last vestiges of the hollowness that had plagued him. He had done it. He had faced his darkness, transformed it, and now, he was providing life, nurturing it.
"She's a beauty, ain't she?" Hagrid said, watching the dragon with paternal pride. "Gonna be a magnificent creature, she is. And right fierce, I reckon."
"She?" Echo asked, surprised.
Hagrid nodded. "Aye. Can tell by the way her scales shimmer. And the set of her jaw. A strong one. Best of all, females are usually a bit calmer than the males," He chuckled. "Now, we'll need to figure out a name for her. Somethin' fitting for a creature brought back by such… powerful magic."
Echo looked at the tiny dragon, now happily gnawing on a chicken bone, its scales shimmering in the faint, reddish light of the cave. A name. Something unique. Something that spoke of darkness and light, of death and rebirth.
"Wick," Echo said, the name forming on his lips instinctively. "Her name is Wick. After the part of the candle you light. Because she was born from darkness, but she brings light, but only after it was re-lit."
Hagrid's eyes widened slightly. "Wick, eh? I like that. A fine name for a fine dragon." He beamed. "Right then, Wick it is."
He looked at Echo, a serious expression on his face. "This is a big responsibility, Echo. She's gonna need a lot of looking after. And it's gotta stay a secret. Always. For her safety, and for yours."
Echo nodded, feeling the weight of the promise, but also a fierce determination. "I promise, Hagrid. I won't let anything happen to her. And I won't tell anyone."
"Good lad," Hagrid said, patting him on the shoulder. "Now, best be gettin' you back to the castle before someone misses ya. We'll come back tomorrow night. Keep her fed, and she'll grow fast. But we won't hav' to do this long. Once she gets to a certain size, she'll be able to feed herself."
Echo knelt beside the now-glowing Wick, who was happily tearing into another chicken. "I have to go now, girl," he murmured, stroking her smooth, warm scales. "But I'll be back tomorrow. Promise."
Wick chirped, nudging his hand with her small snout before returning to her meal. Echo felt a pang of reluctance to leave, but he knew he couldn't stay. He rose, turning to Hagrid.
"Ready, little wizard?" Hagrid asked, gathering his empty sack.
Echo nodded, taking one last look at Wick. "Ready."
They made their way back through the narrow opening, the warmth of the cave quickly replaced by the chill of the forest night. As they walked, the silence of the forest seemed to deepen, becoming almost unnerving. Echo clutched his wand, a faint hum of anticipation in his chest.
Suddenly, Hagrid stopped dead, holding up a massive hand. "Hold on a minute, Echo," he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically low. "Got company."
Echo strained his ears. He heard it too: a soft rustling in the undergrowth, a rhythmic thump-thump-thump of paws. He tensed, his heart beginning to pound. Was it the owl monster again? Then, through the gloom, he saw them: three pairs of iridescent eyes glowing faintly in the darkness—the white wolves. Hagrid let out a low whistle, a sound that seemed to carry an ancient resonance. The wolves emerged from the shadows, their pristine white fur almost luminous. They moved with a silent grace, circling Hagrid and Echo, their intelligent eyes fixed on them. The largest wolf, the one Echo had leaned against, stopped directly in front of him, letting out a soft, inquiring whine.
Hagrid stared, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "Well, I'll be… The Guardian wolves," he breathed, his voice thick with wonder. "Haven't seen them this close since… well, never. Not since I was a lad." He looked at Echo, then back at the wolves. "They ain't usually so… friendly with folks."
Echo felt a warmth spread through him. "They're not trying to hurt us, Hagrid," he said, reaching out a hand slowly towards the largest wolf. The wolf nudged his hand gently, its wet snout warm against his palm. "They were there when I found Wick's egg. They… they protected me."
Hagrid looked at Echo, his bushy eyebrows raised even higher than usual. "Protected ya, did they? From what? And what about this egg, then? You said you 'found' it, but…" He gestured vaguely, indicating the impossible feat of hatching a dragon.
Echo hesitated, then decided to tell him. He recounted his second journey into the Forbidden Forest, how he had felt drawn there to seek his penance, and how he had encountered the wolves. He described the terrifying moment he thought they were attacking him, and the sudden, profound realization that they were guarding him instead. He then told Hagrid about seeing Lucius Malfoy and his cronies trying to break the dragon egg, and how Lucius had used a powerful spell on it, extinguishing its life.
"And then," Echo continued, his voice soft but firm, "I… I tried to bring it back. To put life back into it. It just felt right. Like it was the only way to… to fix what had been broken." He didn't mention the specifics of the magic, the 'Gather and Release' of life force, or the true nature of Lucius's curse. He simply focused on the intent.
Hagrid listened in rapt silence, his expression shifting from awe to deep thought, then to a profound understanding. He looked at the white wolves, who had settled around them, their iridescent eyes still fixed on Echo. "So, you brought it back to life, you did? From a… from a very bad bit o' magic." He scratched his beard thoughtfully. "And these wolves… they knew. They led you to it. Amazing, that is. Truly amazing." He looked at Echo, his kind eyes glowing with a new respect. "You got a real knack for creatures, Echo. A real connection. Not just learnin' 'bout 'em from books, but understandin' 'em in yer soul. That's rare, that is."
Echo felt a surge of pride. "Hagrid," he said, a sudden, bold idea forming in his mind. "Will you teach me? Everything you know about magical creatures? Not just in class, but… outside of it? I want to understand them, to help them. I want to learn how to use my magic… to protect them. To create more life, instead of… instead of taking it away."
Hagrid's face broke into a wide, beaming smile, a smile that seemed to light up the dark forest. "Teach ya, little wizard? Why, I'd be honored! Ain't nobody asked me that, not proper, not like this. You got the heart for it, Echo, I can see that. And with that… that special magic o' yours… we could do some real good, we could. Help all sorts o' creatures. The forest needs friends like you." He clapped Echo on the shoulder, a gentle but firm grip. "Aye, consider yourself my apprentice, then. We'll start with the basics, then move on to the real wonders. This is gonna be grand, Echo. Absolutely grand."
Echo grinned, a true, unburdened smile. The lingering hollowness in his chest was gone, replaced by a sense of belonging and a profound purpose. He had a secret, a dragon, and now, a mentor who understood him, who saw not a monster but a wizard with a unique gift. The Forbidden Forest no longer felt threatening; it felt like a classroom, a sanctuary, and a home.