A/N: Absorbed Cards: Ezio Auditore – Assassin's Creed, Shadow Clone Jutsu – Naruto, Force Push – Star Wars, Zuko (Book 3) – Avatar: TLA, Blink-Dishonored, Spirit Armor-Elder Scrolls, Infinite Vault of Holding, Alucard – Hellsing
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The Basilisk is an unforeseen problem.
Thanks to Newt Scamander's book, my clones figured out she was female. That made naming easier. Didn't help with anything else.
The issue is that she's a killer. A real one. She's taken out my clones in every way possible. The gaze. The bite. The tail. I've watched myself get torn apart more times than I'd like to admit. Sometimes in one snap. Sometimes dragged across the stone until everything went black.
Eventually, she stopped wasting the effort. Realized I keep coming back. Maybe not immortal. But persistent enough to fake it.
We've worn her down. She's acknowledged our strength. We've stood our ground. She hasn't killed a clone in days.
But it still isn't enough. Respect is not obedience.
She hates the Pokéball. I can feel her loathing the moment she's inside it. So I've been letting her rest in the Chamber. She sulks near the pipes and watches the entrance like something still might crawl through and challenge her. Nothing ever does.
I'm still thinking about how to earn her loyalty when Tracey bursts through the door like a chaos spell gone wrong.
"Tim! Stop plotting to take over the world and tell us this idea you had," she says, grinning, already moving to the chair across from me like she owns it.
Behind her come the rest. Harry and Hermione trailing, slightly unsure. Daphne walking in like she's above the room but still here out of curiosity. Blaise slips in last, finds the biggest beanbag, and sinks like he might never get up again.
The Hufflepuffs couldn't make it.
I lean forward, steeple my fingers, and keep my face neutral.
"Let's start a band."
"I'm in!" Tracey says, without even blinking.
"Good. Good. Who else?" I scan the room.
Daphne stares at me like I've gone mad. She doesn't say anything, which is somehow worse. Blaise gives a short laugh and stretches further into the beanbag. I'll hex that thing one day. Leave him there permanently.
Hermione starts listing reasons why she can't. Something about schedules. Priorities. Exams. I tune it out after "extracurricular load."
Harry looks panicked. "I—I don't know, Tim…"
Got him.
I throw an arm over his shoulder. "You have the potential to be great, my friend," I say, adopting the tone of a dodgy wand merchant.
I gesture to the little stage I built out of scrap wood and magic. "Picture it. Wizards with no taste. Witches with no rhythm. Then us. Saving their ears. Teaching them real music."
Harry still looks unsure.
"Don't worry. You'll be behind me and Tracey on drums."
"I don't even know how to play," he says.
I grin. "Good thing I'm a genius."
Daphne scoffs. "Don't forget modest."
"Thank you, my faithful follower." I duck just in time to avoid a hex from her wand.
"I'm close to finishing some... learning tools. You'll be fine," I add.
Harry sighs and nods once. Resigned.
Excellent.
Now, I just have to beat a giant ancient serpent into submission before winter break. Then we can focus on rehearsals. Priorities.