Chapter Text
The attic of Ramshackle Dorm was a treasure trove of forgotten things—dusty portraits, half-broken chairs, a crate of vinyl records labeled "Absolutely Do Not Touch," and, most recently, a harp with two broken strings. Beau stumbled upon it while searching for a blanket thick enough to withstand Ramshackle's drafty windows.
“Oh, look at this fancy piece of garbage,” she muttered, dragging the harp into the light. The wood was scratched and worn, but it had a sort of sad elegance to it, like it used to belong somewhere important. “Wonder if it still works.”
Grim poked his head out from behind a stack of books. “What’s that thing supposed to do?”
“It’s a harp, Bluebell.” Beau plucked one of the remaining strings, and it let out a hollow twang. “Musical instrument. You’d probably set it on fire if you tried to use it.”
“I would not!” Grim protested, but Beau ignored him. She had an idea…
The next day, students walking past Ramshackle heard odd noises wafting from the broken dorm. Beau sat cross-legged on the floor, scribbling lyrics in a notebook while plucking at the harp. The sound was… not exactly melodic, but Grim wasn’t brave enough to tell her that.
“Okay, okay, listen to this one,” she said, adjusting the harp. She cleared her throat dramatically. “Oh, Malleus Draconia, so broody and grim, he stares into the distance like a tragic sim!”
Grim burst out laughing. “You’re gonna get roasted alive if he hears that!”
“That’s the fun of it,” Beau said with a smirk, adding another line. “It’s not like he’d care what I think anyway.”
A week later, Beau’s parody songs became the talk of the school. It started innocently enough—Ace heard her singing the "Broody Malleus" song in the library and couldn’t stop laughing. He taught Deuce the lyrics, and before long, students from multiple dorms were humming the tune. Someone even recorded Beau performing it with her harp and posted it on MagiTube.
The video went viral.
Beau was in the middle of her chores—sweeping up the remnants of a ghostly prank involving flour—when the door of Ramshackle Dorm banged open. She turned to see Lilia Vanrouge standing there, grinning from ear to ear.
“I heard about your little musical escapades,” Lilia said, his tone playful but his eyes sharp. “You’ve been quite the bard lately.”
Beau froze, clutching Stabbitha like a shield. “You’re not here to fight me on Malleus’s behalf, are you, vampy?”
“Fight you? Of course not!” Lilia laughed. “In fact, I think it’s delightful. But… you might want to prepare yourself.”
“Prepare for wha—” Beau didn’t get to finish her sentence before a gust of wind blew the door open again. This time, Malleus Draconia himself stood there, his imposing figure silhouetted by the evening sun.
Grim bolted behind Beau. “We’re doomed! He’s gonna fry us!”
Beau blinked up at Malleus, trying to decide if running away was worth the splinters she’d get from diving out the window. “Uh… hey, Mally. Fancy seeing you here.”
“Indeed,” Malleus said calmly. His glowing eyes scanned the room before settling on the harp in the corner. “So you are the bard responsible for the song.”
Beau winced. “Look, I know it’s a bit… irreverent, but—”
“To be called broody,” Malleus interrupted, “is perhaps the most accurate assessment of my demeanor I’ve ever heard.” A small smile played on his lips. “It is… amusing.”
Beau blinked. “Wait, what?”
Lilia clapped his hands. “I told you he’d love it!”
Malleus stepped further into the room, his gaze softening. “Though I would request that, should you compose another, you include mention of my unparalleled magical prowess. If you’re going to immortalize me in song, it should be accurate.”
Beau laughed despite herself. “Sure. I’ll make it ‘Broody and Powerful Malleus’ next time.”
“Excellent.” Malleus nodded, then turned to leave. “I look forward to hearing your next composition.”
As soon as he was gone, Grim let out a long breath. “I can’t believe we survived that…”
“Survived?” Beau smirked. “We thrived, Bluebell. Now grab the broom—I think we’ve just inspired our next hit.”