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Author's Note: Finally got to finish this chapter! Whoa! Took me long enough! But worry not, here comes the third part of the story the boy Weasley on his quest for immortality in the form of an old lady's portrait. Thank you so much to all who reviewed! And also, please check out my site for all updates regarding this fic and all my others. Link is on my author's page.

Eddie Redmayne as Louis Weasley
Jamie Bell as Robin "Handsome Rob" Tragger
Nicholas Hoult as Jude Thruston

Gemma Arterton as Primrose "Prim" Laraby
Tamsin Egerton as Philippa "Phil" Ayers
Samuel Barnett as Monty Ludlow

Liam Aiken as Hugo Weasley

Standard Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling.


One would think that under circumstances such as these, with no margin for success, that one would flail one's arms and give up. But as previously stated, the boy Weasley was a fool of the lowest class and was not privy to the concept of surrender. His seventeen or so years’ worth of life experiences had taught him well. Taught him the meaning of persistence and perseverance. It had also taught him that getting prefect was much akin to getting the crown in a beauty pageant. Both required a pleasing personality, a spotless reputation, and a cunning desire for shiny things. Unfortunately, he was just two out of three. Some would argue he had only one.

But argument aside, despite the fact that his pleasing personality remained debatable, and his spotless reputation was all but non-existent, one thing was for certain. Louis Weasley had a cunning, nay Machiavellian desire for shiny things. A desire so strong, it would be willing to eliminate the competition and all others who stood in its way.

Such determination could not go by unnoticed, as it often came across as overwhelming pride. Overwhelmingly blind pride that is.

"You can't be a prefect Lou." Jude whispered to him as Professor Cripler turned his back to write the potions recipe on the board. "The prefect positions are filled. They've been filled for two years now."

All Louis could do was smirk. His confidence, beaming through his impertinence and impregnable sense euphoria. "Minor details, Jude. Minor details."

"How can it be minor!" exclaimed Jude, earning a few shh's from the neighboring hypocrites pretending to concentrate. "How can it be minor when its your entire failure curve?!"

"Almost all my family got prefect. If Fred could do it, then how hard can it be?"

"Fred got it on merit! You're planning to steal it from someone! Doesn't anything get through that thick noggin of yours!"

The person seated in front of them turned around. Her cropped black hair striking fear into both their hearts. An icy glance, piercing through their souls. "Oh will you two just shut up. Fifteen points from Gryffindor."

"Give it a rest Prim. Phil and Cora have been chatting it up the whole class and you didn't even give them as much as a 'shh'."

"Fifteen more. Pushing for forty-five?"

Louis and Jude shot her identical glares, likely cussing her off in their heads. The only reason she was so harsh on them was because they were male. If they had been two blonde posh-totties talking about nail polish and belly button rings, then she wouldn't even bother. Fine one they had for Headgirl. Primrose Laraby: Ball-breaker.

Jude tore a piece of parchment from his roll and scribbled a quick note. 'If, by some miracle you become prefect, you'd have to report to that.' He added small doodle int he corner of the paper. Prim in stereotypical witch garb, smacking Louis's arse with her broom handle to keep him in line with the other flying monkeys.

Louis gulped. Flying monkey. Loyal servant to The Prim.

A large gulp went down his throat.

The thought sent Louis into an odd, foreboding trance. He didn't even notice the class end. He didn't even notice Jude shaking his arm, telling him that it was time to go. He didn't even notice his best mates help him up to his feet and lead him into the Great Hall. Had his innate Weasley gluttony not kicked in, one would imagine that Handsome would have to spoon feed him. But luckily, the self preservation of the boy's stomach was stronger than his fear of amazonian authority.

"I didn't even think about it,” he stared into the horizon, constantly shoving food into his mouth. Stress eating would come from his dad’s side of the family. With a Grandmother like Molly Weasley, how could you not find the sweetest comfort in a plate full of food?

“I'd have to get passed her. Prim. Mephistopheles, incarnate. I won't survive it! I'd fail! Down in the ditches, rotting corpse, left for the vultures fail!"

Like the supportive mates that they were, Jude and Handsome flanked Louis’s sides, protecting him from the world and himself. The sudden epiphany had thrashed their friend into a delicate state. One word, one action could set him off on a chain of events that would only lead to pain and misery. And though that would certainly be entertaining to watch, the fear of answering to his family crippled them from their sadistic tendencies.

"We told you," Handsome cooed to him. “We told you but you wouldn’t listen.”

"Besides,” Jude flicked a pea to Louis’s head. “I don't think the vultures would eat you. You're much too thin to have any sustenance."

"Don't believe him mate. I'm sure the vultures like junk food."

"Alright," he muttered more to himself than the company present. "Maybe there's another way in. Maybe I could break in through the ventilation ducts?"

"That would be attempt number 35,” Handsome hit his head on the table. Not again, he thought. “And that was back when we were still small enough to fit through."

"Fine. Steal the password and waltz in!"

"Attempt eighty,” Jude flicked him with another pea. A larger pea. “We got in but couldn't get out. Besides. After that little stunt, Puffin put voice recognition and biometrics along with the password."

"Get in trouble! Get called into the office and you two can Shanghai me out of there faster than a bunny can hop?"

"Attempt eighty one! God Louis! Get it into your thick head! You already thought of every way imaginable."

"Jude’s right. And just when a plausible option actually comes your way, you'd have to slip by passed she she-wolf."

"We've been saying it all along! IMPOSSIBLE!"

Jude's voice of reason, impassioned by a mounting sense of frustration and anxiety, echoed through the Great Hall. While other's around him paused for a second, only to resume their meaningless chatter, there was one who's stern gaze remained as cold as the Arctic Circle.

His eyes narrowed with every step the roach took near them. With his clicking pen and his pocket notebook, that self-proclaimed “Lord of Deductions” was most likely the most hated boy in all of Hogwarts. Monty Ludlow. The very scum that formed on top of the Black Lake. His voice sounded like a leaky oil pipe. A slippery leach, swimming under the lily pads. A toad with a glandular problem. A full head below majority of his fellow classmates, Ludlow seemed to compensate with a self-aggrandized quest for control over others. Louis Weasley had a hate for Ludlow as deep as a whale’s navel.

"Disturbing the peace, Thruston?" he clicked his pen on Jude’s forehead.

"Give him a break Monty! He just got carried away. Didn’t you Jude?” Handsome picked the little blighter up by his collar and set him a good distance away from Jude. It would be intimidating indeed for such a guppy to be faced with a shark like Handsome. But despite the visible shaking in his knees, Ludlow viewed himself a martyr and dared press on. He smoothed his ruffled hair and clicked his pen again.

"Noise violations are against the rules," Ludlow managed shakily. "I shall be forced to take penalizing action!"

Jude laughed. "Well they wouldn't be violations if they didn't."

"Being smart aleck, yeah?" Ludlow wildly clicked his pen. Click. Click. Click. A tick in his eye forming as he stared at Jude's defiant face. "Well! How does fifteen points off Hufflepuff sound? Well Thruston! How does that sound!"

"Like a broken record," Louis laughed at the irony.

"Fifteen from Gyrffindor!" the 7th year Prefect shouted.

Handsome clasped both of his friends' shoulders and laughed. "Honestly, didn't you two go about this an hour ago?"

"And another fifteen from Gryffindor. My, my. It seems that you three alone will be sufficient to destroy any hopes of attaining the House Cup."

Louis darted up and felt the sudden urge to slap the malignant ooze Gryffindor had as a prefect. But he suppresed his violent urges, chosing to express himself through his God-given gob. "The House Cup is punishment-reinforcement based schlock that capitalizes on the competitive nature of man in order to maintain stability and 1984-like order!" he climbed up on the table, preaching to the entire Hogwarts congregation. "Good deeds are supposed to be done out of free will, not threat, coercion and sheep mentality. Just because you say 'bad dog' and take away our bone, does that mean we have to follow you like mindless animals! Well I say no! We are no dogs! We are human beings capable of reason and logic. And right now, my reason says that you, Ludlow, are a bottom dwelling slave of the man, doing his dirty work. The badge represents responsibility not a mad power trip! So why don't you take your little notebook and pencil, shove it down your arse and pray for independent thought!"

"God says, ditto," Handsome nodded.

People cheered as Louis descended from his pulpit. Handsome attempted to hoist him up on his shoulders, but Louis said, no. No. No! This was no time for rejoice. This was a time for reform.

People like Ludlow and Prim. Nay-sayers. That's what they were. Bloody nay-sayers with nothing but can't and won't in their dictionary. All they gave him were restrictions, imprisoning his destiny with their defeatist attitudes. The boy Weasley, for all his faults and flaws was anything but easily swayed. Once again, he would rally the courage to trudge through the dark jungle that was Murphy's Law. Fear had crippled him. Yes. But it did not destroy him. Even Prim, the dark demon of the underworld that she was, would not dissuade him from the path to eternal glory. He would smell the rancid smell of oil paint as it danced through the wind to his olfactory nerves. He would succeed. The glittering badge of prefect perfection would soon be in his grasp, even if it be the hardest thing he did. For Louis was like a power-hungry Beauty queen, filled with the thirst for victory.

As he watched Ludlow (flabbergasted and poised to tattle like the rat he was) walk away from the wild flurry of cheers and high-fives, Louis's spirits raised in a choir of hallelujah as angels sang in his head. Revenge and greatness would come in a single, delightful package. Behind steepled fingers and a maniacal grin, he planned. Planned once more for the days to come and the future that was within his grasp.

"If I can't get the badge legitimately. Then it seems lads, that we're going to have to eliminate the incumbent."

Ludlow's reign would end.

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