The roar of the Quidditch crowd was deafening, but Icharus watched the match with detached calculation. When Harry Potter made his spectacular winning dive, snatching the Snitch from right under Cedric Diggory's nose, Icharus knew exactly what needed to be done.
He found Cedric in the locker room passage, the older boy's usually handsome face dark with frustration as he toweled his damp hair. "You flew brilliantly today," Icharus began, falling into step beside him. "That last feint against the Gryffindor Chaser was masterful. It's not fair how it ended."
Cedric shrugged with forced nobility. "Potter's just... gifted."
"That's what makes me think," Icharus said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I sat beside Harry every day in primary school. The boy couldn't catch a football to save his life - always the last pick, constantly tripping over his own feet." He paused meaningfully. "Now he's beating seasoned players? First he outflies Slytherin's dirty tactics, then Ravenclaw's precision, and now you - the most talented seeker Hogwarts has seen in years?" Icharus shook his head in apparent bewilderment. "Were you chosen as seeker in your first year, Senior? Even with your obvious talent?"
Cedric's steps slowed. "No, I had to prove myself for two years before I made the team."
"Exactly," Icharus pressed gently. "It feels... questionable and an injustice for truly talented people like you, Senior. Almost as if someone is ensuring he always comes out on top, making the rest of us secondary to Harry's legend. As if to create a fan base or loyal soldiers for him." He watched the seed of doubt take root in Cedric's eyes before melting back into the dispersing crowd.
That evening, the Oracular power he'd awakened began raging out of control. Visions flashed behind his eyes - silver blood dripping on autumn leaves, dragon fire illuminating a dark cavern, a dying unicorn's final, shuddering breath. Each vision brought with it a fresh wave of pain, the magical feedback leaving him with a pounding headache that promised no rest.
When Cassius and Flint found him in the library's shadowy aisles, he'd been expecting them. Wordless Disillusionment Charms settled over him like a shroud as they led him through deserted corridors to the Slytherin dorms. The moment the door closed, their hands were on him, tearing at his robes with familiar roughness.
The sex was brutal and possessive - their way of reasserting dominance after the humiliating Quidditch loss. Icharus moaned and arched into their touch, playing his part to perfection. He'd come to genuinely enjoy these moments - the raw physicality, the way they marked him as their property, the strange power he wielded in his own submission and through siren theft sigil ritual.
Between thrusts that drove him hard against the silk sheets, Flint grunted, "Can't believe we lost to that Potter brat."
"He's nothing compared to you," Icharus gasped, shifting deliberately beneath them. "Just a passing novelty, like those ridiculous Philosopher's Stone rumors in the Daily Prophet."
Flint stilled for a moment, his grip tightening. "My parents... someone contacted them right after Christmas. Secret meeting in Hogsmeade, all questions about the Stone and Dumbledore's security measures." His voice dropped. "They said it felt like the old days."
When Flint finished and departed, Cassius remained, taking Icharus again with even greater brutality before forcing his head down. "Worship me, Mudblood," he commanded, and Icharus obeyed without hesitation. Cassius reveled in the feeling of divinity it gave him - his beautiful Mudblood toy's lips serving him, seeming to beg for more abuse. He used Icharus exactly as he wished - rough, merciless, and utterly controlling.
Afterward, as they lay tangled and sweating in the dim greenish light, Icharus saw his opening. "I found something fascinating near the Restricted Section partition," he murmured against Cassius's shoulder. "Experimental texts describing how to use the Philosopher's Stone in advanced potions. Formulas that could extend life... indefinitely."
Cassius's eyes glinted with sudden interest in the darkness. Icharus could practically see the connections forming - the Stone, immortality, power. He knew Cassius was remembering his father's worried words to his mother: "You-Know-Who can't truly be dead. He'd need the Stone to return to proper flesh. He was always obsessed with cheating death."
The next morning, Icharus sought out Hagrid at his hut, arranging his features into an expression of wide-eyed wonder. "I've been studying magical creatures," he said innocently. "Unicorns sound so beautiful and pure. Do you think... could I possibly see one around Hogwarts? Are there any in the Forbidden Forest? If so, can you show me please?"
Hagrid's face lit up with immediate enthusiasm. "O' course, Icharus! Right this way - I know just the pair!"
Deep in the Forbidden Forest, in a sun-dappled clearing, Hagrid showed him the magnificent creatures - a fully grown silver unicorn and his heavily pregnant mate grazing peacefully. When Hagrid turned aside to examine some nearby tracks, Icharus approached the male unicorn slowly.
"You're a noble creature," he whispered, his voice layered with magical suggestion as he placed a vial of Blood-Replenishing Potion on the mossy ground. "This is for your mate when her time comes. The Forest has grown dangerous lately - there's a hunter stalking these woods." He poured more magic into his words, weaving threads of compulsion. "We males understand about protecting what's ours. You must be willing to do whatever necessary to keep your family safe, no matter the cost."
The unicorn watched him with ancient, knowing eyes that seemed to understand everything and nothing all at once.
As they walked back to the castle, Icharus's mind was already constructing his next moves. The dragon egg Hagrid had so foolishly acquired would hatch soon - he would need to be there, ready with more Blood-Replenishing Potions, not to help the creature but to keep it strong while he harvested what he needed. A hatchling's blood would be incredibly potent for his rituals.
But first, he needed to arrange detention with Harry Potter - to be in the Forest when the unicorn made its inevitable sacrifice, to play the comforting friend to a traumatized Harry while secretly harvesting the fallen creature directly into his System. The unicorn's horn, blood, and even its body would be invaluable.
All the pieces were moving into position now. The pawns were where they needed to be. All that remained was for someone else to make the first kill, and Icharus would be there to reap the rewards.