The year was 2016. Well, at least in Muggle World it would be. But here? Here the only number that seemed to matter to anyone was 18. 18 years since the great Harry Potter had defeated Voldemort once and for all. 18 years since my parents, teachers and family friends had lost friends and loved ones in the Battle of Hogwarts. 18 years since the Hogwarts Castle had almost been destroyed and Professor McGonagall had finally been reinstated as Headmistress. But 18 was also the number of goals my house quidditch team was losing to slytherin by. They had 230 points, and the Gryffindor team had a measly 50 points. With each goal counting as 10 points and the snitch as 150, we needed to get at least three more goals before we could even begin to worry about which team would catch the snitch and get that last 150 points.

I watched as the players zoomed around on their brooms, chasing the quaffle and trying to avoid getting hit by the bludgers. James potter and his cousin Fred Weasley were the two Gryffindor beaters and they were having a blast. Fred yelled out to James while passing a bludger toward him so he could get one of the slytherins with it.

One of the Gryffindor chasers had the quaffle and now also had a clear shot to the goal hoops thanks to James' well placed bludger. She flew toward the goal determined to gain another 10 points for her house. The slytherin keeper stared her down and floated in front of the hoops, preparing for her to shoot. She didn't break her concentration as she faked a shot toward her left ring and then threw it into the ring on her right. Despite his good track record at blocking goals, the keeper fell for the ploy and dove toward his right, to block the shot that never came. The quaffle flew through the other hoop and the stadium went wild, Gryffindors cheering, Slytherin booing and the rest of the stands were pretty evenly split. Now we only needed two more goals and to catch the snitch first afterward.

The players continued to fly around the pitch while the students and teachers cheered below. But I heard something coming from a few rows behind me in the Gryffindor part of the stands. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. What was that? Stomp. Stomp. Clap. There it was again. It got slightly faster and a few more people joined in. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. I looked around. Quite a few Gryffindor had started doing this strange, new thing. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. I wondered how they could all know what it was while the rest of us had no idea what was happening. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. It had to be some type of muggle thing, I finally concluded. How else would they all know exactly what to do? Stomp. Stomp. Clap. By now twenty, to twenty five gryffindor students had joined in. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. It had become a rhythm now. Repeating over and over. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. Then someone started yelling.

"Buddy you're a boy make a big noise, playin' in the street gonna be a big man some day" they continued yelling to the rhythm and a few other people we singing along with them. Then he got to the chorus and every single person who was stomping and clapping joined in. "We will, we will rock you!" they yelled. Then again, "We will, we will rock you!" By this point we were the focus of the whole quidditch pitch. The rest of the students, the teachers, and even most of the players had stopped to stare and watch the muggle born gryffindor sing their strange song. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. Someone was singing another verse. Everyone watched us. I looked around again and realized that the muggle borns weren't the only ones stomping and clapping anymore. Some of the other wizard-raised students had decided to join in. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. It was the chorus again and I had finally decided to join in. I stomped twice and then clapped. And this time I knew the words to the chorus at least. "We will, we will rock you!" I yelled. I knew I must have looked crazy, but I was having too much fun to care. "We will, we will rock you!"

I was smiling and laughing, but I noticed something happening in the slytherin part of the stands. No one else seemed to notice because they were too busy watching the gryffindors. It looked like a few of the slytherins were in a huddle, like they were planning something. I continued stomping and clapping, yelling out when we reached the chorus a third time.

Finally, the huddled slytherins broke apart, smiling like they had a plan. They all looked toward one of the older ones who held out three fingers. Then two. Then one. Then finally he gave a thumbs up as they all yelled out together. "Who let the dogs out?!"

Heads turned toward the new sound from the slytherin side of the stadium. "Who? Who?" They continued. "Who let the dogs out?" The rest of the slytherin muggle borns joined in, all yelling about the dogs that had somehow gotten out.

The gryffindors only yelled louder. "WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!"

To which the slytherins could only respond by yelling louder still, "WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?!" The rest of the muggle borns in the school seemed to have joined in to whichever song the team they were routing for was singing. No one was paying much attention to the game anymore. Everyone was so caught up in the battle of noise and volume between the two songs. The clashing rhythms rang louder and louder as the remaining students and even some teachers finally picked a side and joined in as best they could.