A/N – Hey Guys … This kinda came out of nowhere, I don't know how or why but here you go. (Unbetaed)

Part One

Harry walked around the castle aimlessly, trying to not let himself get caught up in the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. He was a month in to his last year at the newly restored Hogwarts. Not many people had from his year had come back – some had died, some had moved in other countries, some were simply too traumatized to remain there. Harry, of course Hermione and Ron had all decided to come back – Ron had been highly tempted by the offer of starting Auror training early by Kingsley, but Mrs Weasley had nearly had a stroke when she found out the news and Ron was in Hogwarts. Seamus, Dean and Neville had also remained, so Harry's dorm mates was the same. Hermione's was mostly the same too, apart from the painful empty bed of Lavender Brown, who had been mauled by Fenrir Greyback in the Battle of Hogwarts. Other people from other houses had remained also from their year, but because overall there year was so small, they had a small section of a floor of the castle dedicated to them.

It was accessible through a huge portrait of a man, called Oberon, painting endless barely dressed women and men on canvasses (some of the finished products ended up in other portraits in the castle, much to McGonagall's anger); the passwords were always names of his old lovers. The section included a communal bathroom much like the Prefect's, only smaller and with far less taps. There was a huge, neutral common room and two long hallways of dormitories, again separated by gender and a few were mixed by the house – but Harry's remained all Gryffindor and the Slytherins, unsurprisingly, shared a room. Hermione's favourite part of the Seventh Year section, was the library; cozy and intimate, and yet not without a suitable collection of books. McGonagall had decided to have the restricted section moved up here, and after having all of the books thoroughly checked over, had allowed most of them to be used by the mature students. The library staff consisted of a ghost, called Evangeline Thorne. She was about late sixties, American, and insisted on being called Miss Evangeline. By the end of the first week, she and Hermione had become such good friends Hermione was allowed to call her Eva. Harry particularly liked the placement of the new Seventh Year section, as it was on the Seventh floor, and thus very close to the Room of Requirement.

As his boredom grew, he decided to head back up to his dorm, maybe take a bath, then finish his DADA essay (hopefully gaining brownie points from Hermione in the process) and maybe then retire to the common room and read one of the muggle books he'd picked up over summer whilst staying with Hermione. He had had a momentary sickness of the Wizarding World, and despite a few ceremonies and weeks refurbishing Hogwarts, he'd remained out of it as much of possible – taking comfort in his Muggle anonymity as much as he could. As he finished clambering off of the moving staircase (despite his years attending the school, he still couldn't get used to them), nearing the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. A battered, yet heavy painted black door was opposite, and Harry could hear a thumping bass noise. He ignored it, assuming some of his classmates were indulging in it for their own pleasure, using the noise as a cover, and went on his way. As he reached the common room, he was confronted with a sullen Ron crossing his arms over his chest and pouting, staring into the fire mumbling to himself. He looked up at Harry and, still sulking, mumbled

"Hi,"

Harry bit back a chuckle at his friend's childish demeanour. "Hey Ron." A moment of silence. Harry sighed and enquired simply "What's up?"

"Snakes is what's up!" Ron exploded. Harry, catching his reference to the Slytherins, sat back in his chair, preparing himself for a tirade. They had testified for some of the Slytherins, together. Draco Malfoy, after Harry saved his annoying arse for millionth time, whilst Harry had been busy dealing with Voldemort, had apparently been seen by Ron fighting against Death Eaters. The person who'd been able to give Pensieve memories to the Wizengamot and show his change of heart with utter honesty – was Neville Longbottom. They had fought side by side for a while, Ron joined them and together the three of them had taken down Fenrir Greyback. Afterwards he had apparently moved on to more Death Eaters without a word to Ron and Neville. Despite all this, Ron still disliked all of them, more out of childish habit, than anything else.

"What have they done?" Harry sighed.

"They're going around, with their shrunk cases containing Goddess' knows what, and always got Muggle listening devices listening to Merlin knows what, and Zabini is always humming, Goyle always tapping his quill, and Malfoy!" Ron seemed too outraged to possibly continue on with what unspeakable thing Malfoy had done. Harry waited, patiently. "He's always fiddling with this weird plastic triangle which Hermione calls a pick?" He half-shouted the last bit uncertainly at Harry. After a few moments of looking incredulously at his friend, Harry burst out laughing. Ron looked concerned.

"What's so funny?"

"Ron, I think they're in a band, and I think I know where they are practicing," Harry chuckled. Ron's mouth opened at the possibility of seeing them. It wasn't a big deal, they both knew that, but they couldn't imagine the Slytherin Posh Boys whining into a microphone and tapping away at a drum kit. Ron was intrigued and Harry grinned. They simultaneously got up, and walked swiftly to the black battered door. It was vibrating, and Harry and Ron could hear someone shouting into a microphone. Harry opened the door softly, wincing as the music pierced through the unveiled gap.

"Just victims of the in-house drive-by, they say jump, you say how high".

Ron pushed the door open further still, and they were both grateful that their classmates on stage were angled so Harry and Ron could watch without being noticed, if they were careful enough. The room was fairly small, and dimly lit. A raised platform was located in one corner of the room and a sofa and armchair was opposite. They were occupied by Pansy Parkinson, and Uma Hook, and on the stage was Zabini had an electric guitar in his hands, and a microphone in a stand that he would shout/sing/rap into, his long dreadlocks tied at the neck, but slowly coming undone has he jumped around. Goyle was a beast at the back, smacking the drumsticks to the drums assorted around him, with a furious tenacity, proving to be on par with the energy of the room. There was one other person on stage with them both. Draco Malfoy was on the right of Zabini, furthest away from the door, and had a bass in his hands and was plucking at the strings coolly, no pick in sight, jumping with his friend.

"Ya brain-dead, Ya gotta fuckin' bullet in ya head"

Harry and Ron were entranced, watching as Zabini sauntered around the stage, performing with confidence and grace and an attractive aggression that intrigued the Gryffindors.

"Just victims of the in-house drive-by, They say jump, you say how high,"

They were all wearing black, Harry noticed absently. Goyle had a black t-shirt that was slim on his muscular body – he had lost his appetite for cakes and sweets, and with it his thick layer of fat. Where once was a protruding bulge, a muscular toned stomach now existed. Zabini was wearing a tight black vest, with baggy black 3 ¼ length cargo shorts on, and worn skate shoes; his physique wasn't bulky, but the vest highlighting his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Malfoy, was the only person with a veer from complete black. His long sleeved t-shirt was baggy, the sleeves rolled up carefully to his elbows, and was a dark grey colour – it also looked like it had been washed many times, due to its fade, but Malfoy made it look quirky and fashionable. He had baggy jeans on, with similar skate shoes to Zabini. He had a ring over on his right pinky finger, a cartilage piercing on his left ear and a thick cover over his 'tattoo'.

Suddenly the music reduced slightly, and Zabini allowed his guitar to remain only to flourishes and slight riffs, and Goyle kept the beat going. Now, the focus was on Malfoy, taking forefront of the stage, and playing a bassline over and over again, nodding his head and tapping his foot, as Zabini got more hyped next to him, a small smile played over his mouth. Zabini started singing into the microphone with a quiet intensity.

"Ya standin' in line, Believin' the lies, Ya bowin' down to the flag, Ya gotta bullet in ya head,"

After saying this twice, he started repeating the same phrase over and over, and with it, his voice, and the music reached a crescendo and Ron's jaw dropped as the Slytherin's went off. Blaise was all over the place, whilst still managing to reach the mike with a renewed heightened intensity from the time before. Sweat beaded on Goyle's arms as his slammed down the sticks, and Malfoy started to visibly feed off of Blaise's energy and, whilst not demolishing the make shift stage, was jumping around too, whilst maintaining his bass line.

"A bullet in ya head!"

Harry looked at Ron, the other boy looked back, but their attention was quickly drawn back when the tempo changed.

"Ya gotta bullet in ya fuckin' head!"

All at once and way too soon, the song was over, reaching the inevitable end. As the girls whooped from where they sat, Zabini grinned like a loon and took their compliments not so gracious, and Goyle stretched, Malfoy looked over at the door way, right at Harry. His chest heaving, and sweat causing his hair to stick to his forehead, he raised one eyebrow.

Harry grabbed at Ron's arm and Ron, having Malfoy catch them watching him, turned around abruptly and they both ran back the portrait of Oberon, shouted Rosa, and clambered inside. As they got into their dorm, Ron asked, slightly out of breath:

"Harry, what is a bullet and why would it be in your head?"

A/N – for those interested, what Blaise is singing is a real song, and fucking badass too. I do not own it. Hope you enjoyed!