William distinctly remembered, in one of his Defence classes back in school, a lecture about combat involving magical creatures. He didn't remember which creature in particular they'd been discussing, but the thesis statement had essentially been: Never try to outrun them. They'll be faster than you are, with more stamina, and more magic. And your wand will be pointed in the wrong direction.
At least up here he was at a distance - for now - with the advantages of height and visibility. They weren't far from the castle; William would have been severely winded if he'd tried to run much further. Pete would have been on his case about exercise and staying in shape, had he been here. The cold air William was gasping in felt like knives in his lungs.
He raised his wand to send out a distress signal and hesitated. Shooting sparks would bring half the castle out, with New Year's Eve parties lighting the windows on nearly every visible floor. He couldn't risk that, not with children around. He didn't know what had happened, but if it was something like what had happened with the House-elves, then the fewer people out here in the forest to become infected (or worse), the better.
There was an alternative. A fragment of a report, half-remembered only because it had been from Gabe's alter ego and almost certainly paraphrased. It's great that the Ministry's developed a code for being in deep shit close to enemy territory and all, but I'm getting sick of it raining fucking rainbows all the time. A prism, a rainbow, perfectly entrapped within a raindrop. Hardly worth noticing to most, perhaps worth an admiring glance from some, but to a select handful...
William zig-zagged his wand through the air and ducked deeper under the leaf cover as it began to rain. Help, he thought desperately as the wind blew the raindrops toward the castle. And for Merlin's sake, be careful.