I do not own Harry Potter, We Will Rock You, or any other recognizable ideas in this fic. If it seems familiar, I don't own it. It's that simple.

NOTICE: Due to rules against songfics and using actual lyrics, I have changed this story to accommodate them. To everyone who Favorited or what-have-you before this, sorry. With any luck, the general feel has been preserved and I am no longer in danger of a copyright strike. Still though, if songfics are technically illegal on this site, why are there so many of them?

"Mudblood," the sixth-year Slytherin sneered, eyes narrowed and mouth twisted in a vicious smirk. There was usually only one real response to that kind of insult.

Which was why he was so utterly confused when it didn't happen.

The Slytherin's chosen victim, a somewhat small muggleborn third-year Gryffindor, beamed like he'd just heard of the best thing since sliced bread and gave his twin sister an ecstatic look.

"He said it!" the Gryffindor cheered. "Someone finally said it! I've been waiting for months!"

His sister slammed her head heavily into her hand. "Crap."

"This is the best day ever!"

The female Gryffindor glared at the Slytherin, who was standing and looking quite confused. "Do you have any idea what you just did?" she snapped.

"Er..." the Slytherin said

"You triggered his inner fanboy."

"No, no wait," her brother suddenly broke in. "I need you to say it again, I messed up the timing the first time." He stared at the Slytherin expectantly.

"What...?"

"Insult me!" the Gryffindor instructed cheerfully, grinning like a loon.

"You might as well, he won't stop until you do," his sister put in.

At this point, the Slytherin really had no idea what was happening. The event was also drawing quite a crowd. But he'd never had a victim ask to be ridiculed before, so...

"You're a Mudblood," he said.

The Gryffindor boy pumped his fist, then turned to his left and hollered, "Rory! Cue the music!"

"You got it!" Someone (presumably Rory) yelled back – and then there was a stomp-stomp-clap beat being pounded out from the crowd of onlookers. The Gryffindor boy immediately picked up the rhythm; his sister followed suit after an eye roll and a long-suffering sigh. And much to the Slytherin's surprise, several of the onlookers began grinning in recognition of the beat and following along.

"Everybody knows the chorus right?" the Gryffindor boy checked cheerfully over the stomp-stomp-clap. "And I apologize in advance for my pitch, I'm not the best singer."

"You're singing?" the Slytherin repeated incredulously. The Gryffindor boy just winked at him, opened his mouth, and belted out... actually, the Slytherin had no idea what the boy was saying. There was something about a boy making lots of noise, and there was a street involved, and for some reason there was also a can being kicked? But apparently this was disgraceful, or something along those lines. And there was mud. The mud seemed to be particularly important, apparently. This was an extremely confusing song, the Slytherin decided, but then several people opened their mouths to join in and-

"WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!" a large majority of the hallway bellowed, startling the Slytherin so badly that he actually jumped three inches into the air. "WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!"

The next few words were lost to the Slytherin as he brought his heart rate back under control, but by the time he remembered to listen, he doubted he would have known what was going on anyway. Now, apparently, it was disgraceful to be muddy and shout in the street, rather than kick a can. And someone was going to take on the world with a banner-

"WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!" the hallway chorused again, by this point having picked up several new stomp-stomp-clappers who, while not necessarily knowing what was going on, were drawn by the incredibly catchy beat and the simplicity of the chorus. The Gryffindor boy was grinning ear to ear even as he yelled right along with the rest of the crowd, and the poor Slytherin had no idea what was happening anymore. "WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!"

Why were rocks even involved in this? It sounded painful, not to mention that it made absolutely no sense with the mud and the streets and the kicked cans. And now there was an old man who was going to surrender, or something, because how else was making peace supposed to be disgraceful? And there was still mud. It was always on the face, the Slytherin noted through his confusion. Really, the old man ought to clean himself off or something-

"WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!" the hallway belted at the top of their lungs, and the Gryffindor boy called, "Sing it!"

"WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!"

"Everybody-!" the Gryffindor prompted.

"WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!" By now, the Slytherin was pretty sure that the entire school had joined in, regardless of how illogical that might be. The stomp-stomp-clap had so many people participating that he could actually feel the stone floor vibrating ever so slightly beneath his feet. "WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!"

"EPIC GUITAR SOLO!" the Gryffindor boy cried, throwing his arms up and over his head to the left in a dramatic cue, and an upper-year Ravenclaw who bore a strong resemblance to the Gryffindor boy and his twin sister suddenly brandished an bizarre contraption of wood, plastic, and metal strings, conjured up a black box with lots of dials and buttons, plugged the instrument in and proceeded to riff one of the most undeniably awesome things the Slytherin had ever heard. The Ravenclaw had a grin on his face that tooth-for-tooth matched the one that the Gryffindor boy was sporting, and he kept the grin throughout the whole solo, regardless of the fact that said solo went on for a good two minutes. Ever-present beneath the solo was the stomp-stomp-clap of the students surrounding them, and combined the Slytherin had to admit that it sounded... pretty cool.

Eventually though, the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw locked eyes and nodded at each other. The Gryffindor boy made a wrapping motion with his hand, and then the solo and the stomp-stomp-clap abruptly ended in a decisive and final-sounding beat. The entire hallway burst into applause, and the Ravenclaw took a bow while stabilizing his instrument with one hand, then motioning to the Gryffindor boy who gave a boy of his own. The Slytherin just stood and gaped.

"Alright everyone, show's over!" the twin sister yelled. "We're all gonna be late for class anyways!"

"Spoilsport," the Gryffindor boy complained, giving her an elbow even as he waved his older Ravenclaw brother goodbye. "Admit it, that was epic."

"...It was kinda cool," his sister acknowledged.

"Um," the Slytherin said.

"Hey, thanks for insulting me," the Gryffindor said suddenly. "Like, seriously, thanks. I've been waiting to pull that on somebody for ages."

"Um," the Slytherin said.

"We should do this again sometime!"

"Um," the Slytherin said.

"I think you broke him," the twin sister opined.

…...

For some reason, there was a curious outbreak of flash mobs that year in Hogwarts. Most of the students took this new development in stride, with the notable exception of two people.

One was third-year Gryffindor boy, who made a point of participating in every single one of the flash mobs. The other was a sixth-year Slytherin, who made a point of avoiding every single one of the flash mobs.

Especially if they included a particular beat.

…...

I blame the Internet for this one. I mean, Mudblood, mud on your face, I know I wasn't the first person to make this connection. I may be the first person to put it in a fanfiction, though.

In any case, hope you enjoyed.

Changeling