I would just like to take the time to say this loud and freakin proud, wasn't the April Fools cool AMAZING! I had a blast and to the validating staff who reads this, please hand my thanks to all who helped pull that epically amazing prank off.
That aside, welcome to another installment of Spin, the story that is about an egotistical boy in his quest for eternal glory. And no. Not that Potter kid or his sidekick. This is about Louis Weasley. A few reminders before reading on, check out Flush by Elesphyl because it is liked to Spin in more ways that one. Once again, Spin and Flush are a prologue and epilogue (respectively) to a collaboration fic we will be writing after these two are finished.
Now on to different matters. The visual aid. Notice that the names of the older Weasleys will no longer appear. Sorry kids. Don't worry. They'll be back. You'll just have to wait. Meanwhile, enjoy the new characters.
Eddie Redmayne as Louis Weasley
Jamie Bell as Robin "Handsome Rob" Tragger
Nicholas Hoult as Jude Thruston
Liam Aiken as Hugo Weasley
Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling.
It was only at this moment in time when Louis Weasley finally understood the phrase, "Screwed". It was simple really. Once a thing was screwed into the wall, there was no hope of very getting it out. That is of course, unless you had the help of a powerful power tool. He was praying for one now. A metaphoric power tool. 'Wonder if God's as merciful as Handsome says,' he shrugged to himself.
Meanwhile, Jude and Handsome had already lost all hope. They sat there, on the same corner as he did, playing a round of rock-paper-scissors.
"So," Handsome said as he dealt another attack of paper to Jude's scissors, "If we get out of this alive---"
"That's a big if mate. Consider, if we don't get eaten by the birds," he pointed to all of the cooing and squacking caged birds around him, "We might as well be done in by their shit." Jude laughed as the pelican above head dropped another present on his already overflowing shoulders.
"Point." Handsome conceded. "Eaten piece by piece by a cockatoo. Drowning slowly in the smell of cockatoo shit. I can't quite decide which way I wanna go. Louis?" he turned to the grim looking Weasley.
Louis's blank stare burned into the one and only exit, seemingly blurred by bird feathers. What was more, the exit seemed to be staring back. "I'd kill myself before that happens." Perhaps in answer to Handsome. Perhaps a retort to the silent argument he was having with the exit.
"With what? Cockatoo shit?" Jude snickered.
"Shut it Jude. You're not being helpful," Handsome punched Jude's arm. He looked straight into Louis's eyes, a solemn etched, and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry mate. I'll help you. Bash your head with a bird cage. One blow and you'll be saying hello to St. Peter by the pearly gates."
Useless bunch of mates he had, Louis thought. One romanticizing death by pigeon crap, the other willing to help him pass to the next world care of blunt head trauma. The closed space was getting to them. Eating at their hope and sanity.
Meanwhile, all he could do was stare at the door. Stare at the bloody, good for nothing, piece of would-be firewood door. And what did it do in response? The door laughed at him. Laughed at them. Mocked them. Dared them to try and get out. Louis held his ground. He would not be beaten by a door. The door would not be his end. He would be the door's end. Before this day was done, Louis Weasley would hack that door to pieces with his bare hands.
Then. The knob turned. It opened. The door laughed harder. Doom was at hand.
But. That would be getting too far ahead of the story.
CHAPTER TWO: IN WHICH THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH HANDSOME'S BUM
Assuming that short time formalities will certainly bore, this record of Louis Weasley's adventure will not get into the tedious platform goodbyes and short lived train conversations. In fact, it will skip the first two months of school, since there was really nothing of note that happened throughout. Well perhaps, there was the indecent prank here and there, detention slip handed out, even an episode with a cantaloupe and almost daily bouts with pathological nervous laughter, but the fact remains that none of those were of note.
Thus we begin two months, eleven days and roughly thirty eight minutes since we last left the boy Weasley. Now in Hogwarts, immersed in scholarly pursuit. Or at least, the facade of it.
While it was traditional that the whole school take its meals as a group, it was not the case tonight. Sadly enough, Louis Weasley was not in the mood to indulge tradition and decided to skip it all together it. His friends were forced to share the sentiments. So, under the pretense of nature's call, all three boys slipped away from dinner, only to convene underneath the bleachers by the old Quidditch pitch, candles and magical flashlights in hand.
There was an air of mystery in their sudden, clandestine meeting. Neither Handsome Rob nor Jude knew why Louis was being so...for lack of a better term...mysterious. Not since the Great Pumpkin Pie Incident (a story for another time) had they hidden themselves underneath the bleachers with junk food, and as the name implies, huge amounts of pumpkin pie. Nevertheless, being the good friends that they were, neither of the two questioned the summonce and
just went along with it.
Handsome Rob plunked himself down in the sweet spot by the bleacher foundations and started unpacking the food out of the folded up napkins. "Right then. What's with all this, yeah? Not that I don't mind the ol' hoard and gorge, but I really prefer a reason to justify my actions. You know how Father Loughlin likes a detailed confession."
"We celebrating something Lou?" said Jude.
Louis couldn't stifle his nervous laughter. It was a reflex. His poker tell. This time, it was so bad that his shoulders were shaking like a road worker's drill. "Not really a celebration. More of...a last meal," he gulped.
Handsome almost choked on his pie. "You're not dying are you."
"Close. But no, thank God--" he stopped himself from using the Lord's name in vain after getting a sharp glare from Handsome. "Thank Godric. I was going to say thank Godric."
"Keep telling yourself that mate. Sins are between you and the big guy." He continued on his pie. "So not dying. I think you're still good mate."
"Will you just shut it and let him explain." Jude snatched the pie from Handsome, mid-bite.
Again, nervous laughter. He made a note to himself to see a Healer about that. "Wegonnastealminsportrait."
"Excuse me?" both said simultaneously, with slight variety on Handsome's part due to the muffling effect of pumpkin pie.
Louis took a large, deep breath and said it again. Slowly. "We, as in we three, are going to steal Minnie's Portrait."
They both looked at him as if he were a madman and laughed. "Good one mate. Really had me going for a moment there. Stealing Minnie's portrait. Really. Good one." Jude grasped his stomach and laughed hard enough to tear up.
"Imagine, actually getting into Puffin's office."
His friends' laugher slowly ate at what little pride Louis had left. Tick. Tick. Tick. Boom. "Oi! Not kidding around here! I'm serious. We're getting into Puffin's office and we're stealing that portrait!"
He was serious. He was actually serious. Louis was actually serious. The perinnial clown, laugh of the party. Bloody Bozo himself was serious. Neither Jude nor Handsome could believe it.
"Are you even hearing yourself, you little nutter?" Jude slapped the back of Louis's head. "You're talking about sneaking into the Headmaster's office. ACTUALLY GETTING IN! Need I remind you that we've spent our formative years getting into that bloody panic room! It can't be done!"
"We find a way!"
Earned him another slap. This time from Handsome Rob. "Idiot! Last time you said that I wound up getting my arse tossed out of the ante-chamber and into detention. LITERALLY! Do you know how long it takes for bruises to heal from your arse!"
"You're bloody right not quickly! I couldn't sit down for a month, Louis! A month! I still mourn from my arse!"
Jude shook his head at Handsome. Drama queen. One would imagine he would have slapped him too, if there weren't already enough slaps given out. Another one would just be a cliche. "Mate," he turned to Louis. "It's plain and simple. We can't get into Puffin's office."
"Jude's right. He's got it locked tighter than a Gringott's vault!"
"It's bloody family pride! If I don't get that portrait, I'll be the only Weasley to wuss out of the dare."
"Talking to Victoire again?" mocked Handsome.
"Come of it. I already told you guys about the dare. Weasley does it, goes out a legend."
"Nameless. Urban. Mythical. Still can't believe Rox and Fred were the ones who lit Gyffindor Tower."
"Not helping," Jude raised his hand, threatening another slap, making Handsome flinch.
"Can't you just ask for another dare?"
"Once it's given out, it's final. Success or bust."
Jude shrugged. "Bust doesn't sound so bad."
"Fail and you might as well say goodbye to self-respect. I need self respect."
"Overrated, in my opinion," Handsome put an arm around him. "But just was well Lou, you lost all self-respect about the time you met us. No point in trying to hold on to the delusion."
Louis wallowed in self-pity. Like a pig in slaughter day, the word 'screwed' seemed to be tattooed on his forehead. He didn't know what it meant, but it was a rather common expression. Seemed appropriate. Louis hid his face in his hands and hung his head low in shame. Was Handsome right? Was his delusional self-respect was overrated?
"Besides," Jude added. "The only plausible way of getting into the office is if you were a prefect."
A metaphoric lightbulb lit up in Louis's head. His face slowly broke into a smile, haunting, chilling, creepy. He looked at his two friends, an odd sense of fulfillment and hope radiating from his pulsating from his pores along with the sweat of excitement. "Jude. You're a bloody genius."
"Not that I don't appreciate a statement of the obvious, but what the hell did I just say?"
"Lads," he slung an arm around each friend's shoulders, "I'm gonna be a prefect."
To put it in simple terms, the boy Weasley was an idiot. As he hatched the plan of conquest and success, he shrugged off his friends' protests, dismissing it all as mere trifles. He would succeed and the key to success was the elusive prefect's badge. Never had he coveted anything more in his life. Perhaps Handsome was wrong. Self-respect was not only fairly rated, but also desired and necessary for his functioning as a normal teenage boy. No. A boy stepping on the threshold of manhood.
Come the following days, his nervous laughter faded, only to be replaced by his head held high and his manner beaming with pride for all that he would soon accomplish. Delusions of grandeur formed themselves in his head. Louis Weasley would be a legend, along with all of his cousins and siblings. That he vowed to himself. But he had yet to discover just how much he would exceed them. For now, he would just live in quiet ignorance of his destiny, carefully designing how he would 'weasel' his way into a prefect's badge.
The boy Weasley planned.