It was the last night of the year, and we decided to go out with a bang.
A rock party.
Dumbledore, being the benevolent chaos-enabler he is, approved the use of the Great Hall for the concert. The long tables were banished to the walls, replaced by glowing runes that shimmered beneath our feet. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the sky outside, but more dramatic — midnight clouds swirling with soft flashes of magical lightning, the stars pulsing like stage lights.
It felt alive.
Harry, Luna, Tracey, and I had practiced for months. Old hits, new arrangements, weird genre experiments involving magical instruments and cursed amp charms. We had found our rhythm. Harry, ever humble, stayed behind the drums, content to keep the heartbeat of the band. He claimed his voice was "not stage-worthy," but his playing? That boy could set fire to the tempo.
We called ourselves Wand & Riot, just to cause a stir.
Not all of Slytherin came. But more than we expected did. The shift had begun. And tonight, even a few of the stiff-collared purists bobbed along from the back of the hall.
Every house showed up. Gryffindors, already jumping in place. Ravenclaws, curious and bobbing their heads with academic precision. Hufflepuffs were the first to start dancing.
And the professors?
Oh, they came too.
Flitwick looked like a child who had wandered into a dream. Sprout had a flower crown that changed colors with the bass. And McGonagall... well, she did not smile, but her eyes twinkled in a way that made it very clear she approved of the chaos — so long as nothing exploded.
Poor Lockhart was notably absent. Arrested. Something about "misplaced memories" and falsified accomplishments. It was tragic, really. One moment he was posing in the mirror, the next, he was in the Prophet. I had no idea who tipped off Rita Skeeter.
Definitely not me.
Anyway.
I stood onstage, wand twirling once before I cast Sonorus Harmonia across our setup. Microphones shimmered into place. My guitar sparked to life in my hands, runes glowing faintly along the neck. The magical amplifiers flared up with soft flames as the sound checks completed. Luna floated to her keyboard, Tracey adjusted the strap of her guitar, and Harry spun a drumstick in one hand, expression calm.
"Let's rock," I said into the mic.
The hall went quiet.
And I struck the first chord.
[Thunderstruck- AC/DC]
The opening riff screamed across the enchanted speakers — an electric cry that vibrated through bones and made the chandeliers above shiver with glee.
"Thunder, thunder, thunder, thunder
Thunder, thunder, thunder, thunder
Thunder, thunder"
Eyes widened. Students froze, spellbound. A handful of first-years from Hufflepuff jumped in place like someone had lit fireworks under their feet.
The beat dropped.
"I was caught
In the middle of a railroad track (thunder)
I looked 'round
And I knew there was no turning back (thunder)"
The spell took hold of the room. Literally. I had enchanted the floor to pulse faintly with the beat. Not enough to distract. Just enough to feel. Feet began to tap. Heads began to bob.
Even McGonagall, standing primly near the staff table, gave the tiniest of approving nods. She did not care for the music — that was obvious — but she cared that the students were smiling. And they were smiling.
Everywhere.
"My mind raced
And I thought, what could I do? (Thunder)
And I knew
There was no help, no help from you (thunder)"
The hall erupted.
Laughter. Cheers. Shouts.
Some were screaming the lyrics already. Gryffindors were hoisting each other onto shoulders. Ravenclaws clapped in rhythm. Even some Slytherins were tapping out the beat with polished shoes and sly grins.
"Sound of the drums
Beating in my heart
The thunder of guns
Tore me apart"
The Weasley twins lost their minds. One was headbanging so hard his party glasses flew off. The other enchanted floating pyrotechnics to explode harmlessly above the crowd, turning into golden skulls that roared with each chorus line.
"You've been
Thunderstruck"
Tracey broke into the Angus Young duckwalk, her wand flashing blue as lightning bolts shot up from her boots. The crowd howled with delight. Several students tried to mimic her. Most failed. Gloriously.
"Rode down the highway
Broke the limit, we hit the town
Went through to Texas, yeah, Texas, and we had some fun"
Luna's fingers danced across the keys of her keyboard, producing shimmering notes that rose like glowing butterflies before bursting in soft sparkles over the ceiling. A few students gasped. The sound was magic itself.
"We met some girls
Some dancers who gave a good time
Broke all the rules
Played all the fools
Yeah, yeah, they, they, they blew our minds"
And then I saw him.
Dumbledore.
Standing near the center aisle, robes slightly glowing, hands tucked behind his back… smiling. Not politely. Genuinely. He was watching the runes dance across the walls, nodding slightly to the rhythm. I caught a flash of wistfulness in his expression. As if he remembered his own rebellious youth, lost somewhere in time.
"And I was shaking at the knees
Could I come again, please?
Yeah, them ladies were too kind.."
Flitwick jumped onto a chair and threw his tiny fists in the air.
"You've been
Thunderstruck, thunderstruck
Yeah, yeah, yeah, thunderstruck
Ooh, thunderstruck, yeah"
Pomona Sprout joined him, conjuring glowing vines that slithered up her arms like living bracelets. The two of them headbanged together with such joy that someone near the front yelled, "Legends!" and I had to agree.
"I was shaking at the knees
Could I come again, please? Oh"
My guitar solo hit.
The hall went wild.
The enchanted chandeliers dropped beams of golden light across the ceiling, while flickering shadows raced along the walls, turning the Great Hall into something halfway between a storm and a dream. Even Peeves showed up, floating above with a conductor's wand, pretending to lead the chaos.
"Thunderstruck, thunderstruck
Yeah, yeah, yeah, thunderstruck, thunderstruck
Yeah, yeah, yeah, said, yeah, it's alright, we're doin' fine
Yeah, it's alright, we're doin' fine, so fine"
The final solo tore through the magic like a sword through fog. My fingers flew across the strings, sparks dancing around the head of the guitar. Luna threw in a final cascading note from the keyboard, and Harry, bless him, hit that last cymbal crash so hard it echoed through the rafters like an exclamation mark.
"Thunderstruck, yeah, yeah, yeah
Thunderstruck, thunderstruck
Thunderstruck, whoa, baby, baby
Thunderstruck, you've been thunderstruck
Thunderstruck, thunderstruck
Thunderstruck, you've been thunderstruck"
The music ended.
Silence.
Then—
BOOM.
Applause exploded like a hex. Shouts, hoots, cheers. A Ravenclaw tossed their hat into the air. A Slytherin laughed aloud, clapping until his palms turned red. Even the portraits on the walls were applauding. Sir Cadogan had a flaming sword in one hand and was waving a flag in the other.
"THUNDERSTRUCK," someone shouted again from the back.
And all I could do was smile.
"That was Thunderstruck," I called out, breathless and grinning, as Luna hit a shimmering chord that exploded behind us into a streak of electric-blue lightning. The bolt arced across the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, eliciting gasps and whoops as sparks fizzled safely into the air.
The hall shimmered with warm magic, the stone walls pulsing faintly in rhythm, reacting to the performance with ancient Hogwarts curiosity.
I stepped to the front of the stage, gripping the microphone stand with a theatrical flair. "This next one goes out to that lovely seventh-year who's about to change my life later tonight!"
A chorus of howls and whistles echoed. McGonagall, sitting stiffly at one of the side tables with a cup of tea, spluttered loudly.
"Mr. Rosier!" she barked.
But her voice was instantly swallowed by the roar of student laughter and cheers. Somewhere near the front, Blaise gave me a mock bow. Tracey was already cackling behind her bass. We had set the tone.
Luna tapped a key, and the room dimmed just enough for the soft violet lighting to flicker across the enchanted banners. I took a breath, heart steady.
[Beggin'-Maneskin]
"Put your loving hand out, baby
'Cause I'm beggin'"
I let the opening roll out smooth, slow, thick with soul. My voice dropped into a lower register, coaxing the room forward. Luna's keys answered, weaving sound like starlight. Then Harry brought in the drums, steady and powerful, driving the heartbeat of the song.
Students started bouncing in place. The front row jumped together, arms over shoulders like it was a Quidditch final.
"I'm beggin', beggin' you
So put your loving hand out, baby
I'm beggin', beggin' you
So put your loving hand out, darlin'"
At the Gryffindor section, Ginny Weasley had her eyes fixed on Harry. Not on his hands or his timing, but on his face. Her smile was soft, steady, proud. He caught her gaze mid-beat and she flushed just slightly, but didn't miss a stroke.
"Riding high when I was king
I played it hard and fast, 'cause I had everything
I walked away, you won me then
But easy come and easy go and it would end"
Across the room, a trio of older Ravenclaw girls danced with slow confidence, their hips swaying in time to the rhythm. A few dreamy-looking Hufflepuffs joined, arms raised, turning it into something dreamlike and hypnotic.
"So, anytime I bleed, you let me go
Yah, anytime I feed, you get me know
Anytime I seek, you let me know
But I planted that seed, just let me go
I'm on my knees when I'm beggin'
'Cause I don't wanna lose you
Hey, yeah, ra-ta-ta-ta!"
Hannah Abbott, face glowing, grabbed Neville's wrist mid-verse. "No excuses, Longbottom!" she shouted with a grin.
He tried to object, tripped over his own feet, then gave in and let her pull him into a half-hop, half-spin that made everyone nearby burst into laughter.
The song kept rising. So did the energy.
The Weasley twins dropped to their knees in sync, hands clasped like they were pleading to two unimpressed-looking girls.
Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet exchanged glances, shrugged, then each grabbed a twin by the collar and yanked them to their feet. Their dance was chaotic. And perfect.
"'Cause I'm beggin', beggin' you
Uh, put your loving hand out, baby
I'm beggin', beggin' you, ah
And put your loving hand out, darlin'
I need you to understand
Tried so hard to be your man
The kind of man you want in the end
Only then can I begin to live again"
The magic behind us surged. Glimmering sigils danced across the enchanted ceiling, pulsing with the beat. Floating crystals projected waves of soft firelight into the air, creating illusions of echoing soundwaves that pulsed outward with every chord.
"An empty shell, I used to be
The shadow of my life was hangin' over me
A broken man that I don't know
Won't even stand the devil's dance to win my soul"
The Carrow twins, stoic as ever, stood with eyes expressionless. But their fists pumped with robotic precision, heads slightly nodding. One of them may have tapped a toe. It was the most animated they had ever been in public.
"What we doin'? What we chasin'?
Why the bottom? Why the basement?
Why we got good shit, don't embrace it?
Why the feel for the need to replace me?
You're the wrong way track from the good
I want to paint a picture tellin' where we could be at
Like a heart in the best way should
You can give it away, you had it and you took the pay
But I keep walkin' on, keep openin' doors
Keep hopin' for, now the door is yours
Keep also home
'Cause I don't want to live in a broken home, girl, I'm beggin'"
I let the lyrics drive my voice louder. The room was alive now. Bodies swaying, boots thudding, spellwork creating bursts of starlight over the crowd.
Then I locked eyes with McGonagall.
She was still seated. Her arms were crossed. Her eyebrow was arched.
I pointed at her mid-line.
Gasps. Then uproarious laughter.
McGonagall turned beet red… but her lips twitched. Then curved. She shook her head, but did not look away.
We were winning her over. One lyric at a time.
"Mmm, yeah-yeah, yeah, I'm beggin', beggin' you
So put your loving hand out, baby
I'm beggin', beggin' you
So put your loving hand out, darlin'"
Tracey strutted toward the front of the stage during the bridge, flicking her hair back and rocking out on the bass. Her fingers flew with practiced ease, chords glowing faintly under the lighting charms.
She blew a kiss mid-riff at Blaise, who caught it dramatically in one hand, held it to his chest, and winked like a rogue. Someone near the front howled with laughter.
"I'm fighting hard to hold my own
Just can't make it all alone
I'm holding on, I can't fall back
I'm just a calm, 'bout to fade to black"
Near the wall, Ron Weasley stood awkwardly, scowling just enough to show he wasn't thrilled by all the attention Harry was getting. That is, until Lavender Brown spotted him, gave him a slow once-over, and sauntered over.
She grabbed his hand.
He blinked, stunned.
She dragged him into the crowd.
Ron forgot to be jealous.
"I'm beggin', beggin' you
Put your loving hand out, baby
I'm beggin', beggin' you
So put your loving hand out, darlin'
I'm beggin', beggin' you
So put your loving hand out, baby
I'm beggin', beggin' you
So put your loving hand out, darlin'"
Toward the center, Penny Clearwater twirled gracefully beneath the lights, her Prefect badge glinting. Percy Weasley, awkward at first, tried to do some formal ballroom step until Penny rolled her eyes and tugged him close. She whispered something.
Percy… smiled.
For once, he let go of posture and rhythm and just danced.
"I'm beggin', beggin' you
So put your loving hand out, baby
I'm beggin', beggin' you
So put your loving hand out"
My final lines echoed over the clapping, the laughter, the spell-formed smoke and flickering lights.
Behind us, the band surged. Luna's fingers moved with eerie precision, her enchanted piano giving the song one last wave of energy. A final, shimmering note rippled across the hall.
Harry crashed the final beat with power.
I held the last note as the lights behind us exploded in a whirl of gold and blue sparks.
Silence.
Then—
A roar.
Cheers erupted across the hall. Students stomped their feet, hands clapping over their heads. The banners of all four houses shimmered above, changing colors with the beat.
Even Dumbledore stood, clapping slowly with a wide smile, his eyes twinkling like stars.
"Exquisite," he said to no one in particular.
Flitwick and Professor Sprout were literally bouncing in place near the edge of the dance floor, laughing and swaying to the after-rhythm. Flitwick tossed his wand up in delight, casting a few colorful streamers that spiraled into the air like firecrackers.
I turned, grinning at the band.
We were drenched in sweat. Exhausted. Electric.
Tracey held up her bass like a trophy.
Harry, wide-eyed but grinning, raised his drumsticks.
Luna… just smiled. Serene, glowing. As if she had never been anywhere but here, in this music, with us.
I grabbed the mic again.
"One more?"
The Great Hall exploded.
We were not just students.
We were performers. We were legends.
What a way to end the year.