A/N: Absorbed Cards:Ezio Auditore – Assassin's Creed, Shadow Clone Jutsu – Naruto, Force Push – Star Wars, Zuko (Book 3) – Avatar: TLA
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[Tool of the Devil—Thunderstone]
"I am a man without a heart
Without a soul
I'll heal it for you
If you'll play my role"
The unused music room has become a familiar hideout. Not as private as the fireplace chamber I reserve for deeper secrets, but personal enough to make mine.
Couches and lounge chairs are arranged in a crescent, facing the small stage I conjured into shape. It's nothing grand, just enough to stand on while I sing into my wand like a mic.
"Come closer if you dare
I will show you the way
Of pleasure and of pain
I'm the light of your day"
My voice fills the space, low, rhythmic, and deliberate. Each word dances with threads of magic, subtle ripples of illusion painting embers in the air around me. My friends watch, each reacting in their own way. They think I sing for fun.
I do. But there's always more to it.
I sing to process. I sing to focus.
And this morning? I need focus.
Draco Malfoy was found dangling from the Astronomy Tower by one ankle, hexed from head to toe with humiliating, if not harmful, spells. Nasty stuff. The kind that leaves pride in worse shape than the body.
"Walk through the fire we've made
Over the seas of our times
Higher, we're all in sublime
I'll be here by your side forever
I'll shadow your steps, again and again
We'll be changin' this scene together
Through the joy and the pain
'Cause I am the Tool of the Devil"
My gaze shifts to each of them: Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise.
Without saying a word, I let them know what I've always believed.
We are building something together.
"You'll try to stay on path
Try to keep direction
While the voices in your head
Whispering deception
Your standing in the middle
Don't know what to do
I'll give you the answers
To get you through"
I've been pushing hard. Training. Experimenting. Adapting.
The new powers are potent, thrilling even. I learn fast. But there's always a higher ceiling. Always another layer to master.
More than that, a shift has started. A ripple in the waters of canon, and I am the one who cast the stone.
There's power in rhythm. Control in melody. Just like magic, music bends to intent, and right now, everything is shifting.
Harry Potter never became a Seeker.
No Draco in flying class meant no Remembrall incident. Just a quiet lesson. Neville broke his wrist. No brooms, no Gryffindor golden boy soaring into the sky.
And that means opportunity.
"Walk through the fire we've made
Over the seas of our times
Higher, we're all in sublime
I'll be here by your side forever
I'll shadow your steps, again and again
We'll be changin' this scene together
Through the joy and the pain
'Cause I am the Tool of the Devil"
I believe it's time to throw the first hook to try and catch Potter's trust. I will need him in one way or another to destroy Riddle.
"Walk through the fire we've made
Over the seas of our times
Higher, we're all in sublime
I'll be here by your side forever
I'll shadow your steps, again and again
We'll be changin' this scene together
Through the joy and the pain
'Cause I am the Tool of the Devil"
My friends will need to be brought in on this plan.
Daphne will understand. She sees the political value already.
Tracey has charm and bloodline flexibility. If anyone can make inroads with Granger, it's her.
Blaise? He'll stay in the shadows. That's where he thrives. What his mother taught him will keep the snakes in our house from biting too soon.
"I'll be here by your side forever
I'll shadow your steps, again and again
We'll be changin' this scene together
Through the joy and the pain
'Cause I am the Tool of the Devil
Tool of the Devil
Tool of the Devil"
Tracey drops onto the couch, breathless from jumping around like the song charged her up. "That was brilliant! I've never heard a song like that, and I thought Weird Sisters' music was dark."
"That was something I can get into," Blaise starts, "but what was with those bright, flowing stardust images?"
"Yeah, that was a spell that took a bloody minute to cast correctly." I continue on, "It's called Illusona Aria, and I cast it to feedback to the Sonorus Harmonia spell. I will eventually be able to create illusionary landscapes with it, but for now you get swirling glitter dust."
"It was beautiful." Daphne states a matter of factly.
"I couldn't help but notice the lyrics that formed behind you with that new spell of yours." She shifts minutely in her seat.
"You're not one to do things without meaning. The 'We'll be changin' this scene together' part caught my attention."
"You know," I sigh as I sit next to them, "you're scary for an 11-year-old." She just smiles knowingly.
"Okay, no more cryptic answers. I want to befriend Potter."
Tracey sits up, Blaise just nods, and Daphne stays quiet, probably processing different scenarios on how this will benefit us.
"Potter is…difficult to approach." She begins. "Weasley has his claws deep in him and prevents even his fellow lions from befriending him."
"It doesn't help that he has a dislike for us snakes." Blaise sighs. "How did that git Malfoy ever become a Slytherin?"
Tracey grins evilly. "It was so satisfying seeing him cry while being carried to Madam Pomfrey." She sighs dramatically. "What a great start to the day."
I smile and shrug. "He got what he deserved."
"I should probably stay away." Blaise ponders. "My personality will really grate on Potter," he chuckles.
Daphne nods. "Do what you do best. Keep others' attention away from us. Befriending a lion and Potter, no less, will bring scrutiny on us." He accepts with a smirk.
"Tracey, my favorite person in the world." I say with a sweetness so smooth it could charm a Dementor.
"Oh no…" She whispers to herself. "Nu-uh, I'm not doing it." She tries to back away, but I grab her by the ankle and drag her from the couch closer to me as she tries to kick me.
"It's not that bad."
She grinds her teeth as her kicking fails.
"Get close to Granger." I state nonchalantly.
She pales. "The know-it-all?!" she groans dramatically. "Her attitude pushes everyone away, and I heard from a Ravenclaw that even her dorm mates can't stand her."
"I don't see what she has to do with befriending Potter." Daphne throws out.
"She will be important. Her intelligence, if nurtured properly, will be a huge boon for us. She first needs to see that not all snakes are bad." I turn to Tracey.
"Try to guide her. Ask for help and be genuine… and try to teach her to read the room better."
"Ask for the impossible, why don't you?" She mumbles.
"This is really out of the blue for you." I know what Blaise is really asking. I made a point of keeping away from politics unless approached, and now I'm asking this of them.
I shrug. "Everyone's watching him. If I get along with him, it softens how people see us."
Tracey raises a brow. "Us?"
"Slytherin," I clarify. "Better he sees us as people, not just green robes."
Blaise hums. "Smart. So it's not politics, just reputation control."
"Exactly," I say. "Simple and clean."
They seem satisfied with that. The rest of the day is just fun. No more scheming, just laughter and easy conversation.
But in the back of my mind, I know the truth.
Simple is never simple.
<><><><><><><>
Hogwarts feels different when you're on your own.
The corridors stretch out wider. The portraits whisper a little louder. Every corner feels like a secret waiting to be found.
Ron got held back in the common room, something about Percy lecturing him on prefect responsibilities he doesn't even have. I didn't wait.
So I wandered.
I'm not even sure which floor I'm on now. The torches are lower here. The stone feels older somehow.
That's when I hear it.
Music. Loud, rough, and completely out of place.
"I am an antichrist,
I am an anarchist…"
I freeze. The voice is raw, rolling with confidence. Not from a radio. Live. Someone is actually singing it.
And I know that song.
I heard it once at a shop in London while pushing a trolley past the magazine aisle. It was gone before Aunt Petunia could complain, but it stuck with me, wild and angry and strange. It made my chest feel full and hollow at the same time.
Now it's echoing through a Hogwarts hallway.
I follow it.
The corridor opens into a small balcony alcove. Daylight spills across the floor. And there, wand out, perched casually on the edge of the railing, is a boy.
About my age, maybe a little older. Black hair, messy but deliberate. His wand is being used as a microphone as he sings into it.
Behind him, the air is moving, literally. Glowing illusions shaped by the rhythm pulse along the walls. Fangs, fire, spikes of red and gold. All in sync with the beat.
He belts out the next line:
"Don't know what I want,
But I know how to get it!"
I don't move. I just stare.
And that's when he glances my way.
He doesn't startle or ask what I'm doing there. He just grins.
"You have good taste," he says, flicking his wand to lower the volume. "Sex Pistols, right?"
I nod before I even realize it. "Heard it once. Never forget it."
He pats the railing beside him. "Then you're the first person here who gets points today."
I hesitate, then sit down.
"I'm Timothy Rosier, but I prefer Tim." He raises his hand for a handshake.
"Harry Potter." I say as I shake it and expect the same look everyone gives after hearing my name, but none came.
"I didn't know magic could do that." I look at where the lights were.
He chuckles good-heartedly. "I love music. It's an escape, you know? So when I read about some spells that can create music, I had to learn them. Plus, it's brilliant when I sing and look at Magical's offended faces."
I laugh, picturing it in my mind. "I bet. Using Muggle songs with magic is brill'."
He smiles when I say that, and there's something in it, not smug, not fake. Just... real. Like he means it.
"I figured," Tim says, "if I'm going to be stuck in a place full of tradition and rules, I might as well stir the pot a little."
I nod, not because I know how to do that, but because I wish I did.
"Do you come here a lot?" I ask.
He shrugs. "When I need space. The dungeons can feel like a stone box if you're not in the right mood. This place lets me breathe."
I glance out over the balcony. It overlooks one of the courtyards, the sky wide and soft above it. I hadn't realized how cramped I'd felt until now.
"I don't really have a place like that yet," I admit. "Still figuring things out."
He tilts his head slightly, like he already understands. "It's a weird thing, being new in a world that's been spinning without you."
I glance at him. That hits harder than I expect.
"I didn't even know I was a wizard until a few weeks ago," I say before I can stop myself. "Everyone else seems like they've known forever."
Tim doesn't look surprised. He just nods.
"I figured you were coming in fresh," he says. "You've got that look."
"What look?"
He grins. "Like you're balancing curiosity with 'Is everyone here mad?'"
That makes me laugh, a proper one. "I mean… they kind of are."
"Exactly." He taps the wand-turned-mic against his palm. "So, question. Do you like people who challenge the script or the ones who read from it perfectly?"
I don't answer right away.
"I think," I say slowly, "I like the ones who ask if the script's worth reading."
He gives a soft whistle. "Well said, Potter."
There's no sarcasm in it. No judgment. Just the beginning of something that feels like it matters.
And maybe, for the first time since I got here, I don't feel like I'm standing on the edge of something alone.