Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story

Cawdor High

"Edmund! you're going to be late for school," called a voice from the bottom of the stairs. Edmund Pevensie shot a glare in the general direction of the voice.

"You think you're my dad, but you're not!" he shouted.

Edmund ran down the stairs and pushed past the recent addition to the Pevensie family, Bjorn, Edmund's stepfather.

Edmund had been in a terrible mood ever since his father had died in the war, as I'm sure you'd feel too if that happened to your dad, dear reader.

Edmund stormed down the street towards his school. He was feeling particularly mean this morning and when he spied Harry, also on his way to school, he couldn't resist taking his temper out on someone.

He bent over quietly, picking up a nearby stick and slowly approached Harry. The unwary boy stood where he was, innocently smoking. Edmund was just about to hit Harry in the back of the head with the stick when, suddenly, a voice forced its way through the air.

"EDMUND" commanded the voice, "THOUGH SHALT NOT RAISE THE RATING OF THIS STORY WITH YOUR VIOLENCE."

"Oh. Sorry," muttered Edmund, dropping the stick.

The shadow of the voice drifted off down the street, leaving no memory in either boy's mind.

Edmund looked at Harry and decided that he would leave him alone that morning. He hurried of to school, eager to get there early to meet his friend Mac.

Harry peacefully continued to smoke. He was relaxed like he hadn't been since who knows when. His life recently had been hell, what with his uncle deciding that he wasn't allowed to attend Hogwarts any more, and his aunt sending him to his room every time he took a particularly deep breath. He had finally rebelled, taking up smoking, drinking and foosball. His family were not happy.

Harry Potter strolled along the pavement in no hurry to get to school at all, just glad that Edmund had decided to forego the pleasure of hitting him with a stick today.

Meanwhile, at Cawdor High School Mac was waiting impatiently for Edmund.

"Where is that kid? I have work to allocate," he said to himself.

Edmund rushed through the door, apologising profusely to Macbeth.

"I'm sorry, it was my brother's fault," he said quickly, "Peter stole my socks."

Macbeth rolled his eyes and decided to forget about it. He was feeling in an oddly non-violent state today. Perhaps there would be no murders until tomorrow.

"Right," he said to Edmund, "The school captain elections are today and I need to make a good impression on the teachers. You're good at sucking up to people, what should I do?"

Edmund thought about it for a bit. "You could kill all the opposing candidates," he said hesitantly.

"Well, I will if it looks like they're going to win. I've got a couple of friends who owe me favours. But I'd rather not kill anyone unless I have to; I'm still worried about the last couple I had done. I've been meaning to ask, do my hands look red to you?"

"Umm," said Edmund.

In another part of the school a boy was sitting quietly by himself, deep in thought. He looked up as a girl came towards him.

"What are you doing here Aragorn?" asked the girl, "You have a destiny to embrace, people to talk to, a captainship to win!"

"Arwen," replied Aragorn, "I am not ready to fight. I must first overcome my past and beat the demons that made my father, and my grandfather before him, lose the captainship."

Arwen sighed dramatically and swished her hair around a bit.

"Whatever," she said, leaving Aragorn to himself.

Harry arrived at school and went immediately to the toilets to continue smoking.

A voice suddenly appeared in the air.

"HARRY, SMOKING IS BAD FOR YOUR HEALTH, AND WHAT'S MORE, IS BAD FOR THE GRADES OF THIS STORY. NO ONE WANTS TO READ ABOUT A LAZY CHAIN-SMOKING ALCOHOLIC WITH AN ATTITUDE."

"So?" said Harry.

The voice sighed and faded away. Harry continued to smoke, then cough, then drink, then smoke, and then he decided to go to class.

"Today we will be continuing our lesson on The Journey," said their English teacher Mr Herbert. "Now what is the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Journey?"

"I wish you'd go on a journey," said Harry.

"Ah, a physical journey," said Mr Herbert, "Very good Harry."

Harry glowered from the back of the room.

"For instance," continued the teacher, "In my novel, Dune, the main character Paul Atreides…"

The rest of Frank Herbert's monologue was lost in the wasteland of the high-school classroom. By this time of the morning most of the class had tuned out. Harry had passed out in an alcoholic daze and Edmund was planning Macbeth's election campaign. Aragorn was reminiscing about the good old schoolboy battles in the playground and Macbeth was trying to remember if he'd covered his tracks well enough after the last murder. Arwen was flicking her hair around trying to catch anyone's attention.

Recess came up eventually and everyone went outside. Harry made a bee-line for the toilets and was about to be followed by Edmund until Macbeth called his crony over to make last-minute adjustments to the election speech. Aragorn went to stand quietly in a corner while Arwen headed for the nearest mirror.

The next period brought about the election for school captain.

"Candidate one," called the headmistress, "Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

Aragorn stood up, about to run away until Arwen glared at him. He sighed and moved to the front of the room.

"Ahem.
I am Aragorn as many of you know, and I am here to tell you why I should be your captain for the coming year above these other worthy candidates.

I am a worthy candidate for our school because I am a dedicated and hard-working young man, ready to improve the school in any way I possibly can. If this means doing all the hard work that no one else can be bothered to do, then I am willing to do this. Our school has fallen down into the cracks of society and I will bring us out of those cracks and into the light.

I have many great ideas for the improvement of our school community and I know that we can overcome any problems that may lie ahead and triumph in a new and improved world!"

There was silence as Aragorn stood posed, as if ready for battle, at the front of the room. Slowly people began to clap and cheer for the first candidate. Aragorn waved at the crowd before sitting back down.

"Candidate number two, Macbeth," called the headmistress.

"I am your king!" Macbeth began.

"I am Macbeth as I am sure you know. I deserve to be your king, I mean, captain, because I am the best man for the job. I am persuasive and good-looking and I have people to do my dirty work for me so you may be sure that my name will never be muddied by cruel and untrue allegations. I am the obvious choice for the captain as I am so much better than Aragorn, and if he wins I will have him killed. I mean, hurt, I mean, uh, congratulated. So vote for me and I will win!"

There was a lot of loud cheering from Edmund's side of the room, but otherwise everyone was silent, glaring at Macbeth. He basked in his imagined glory, oblivious to the reaction of the school.

"Candidate three," called the headmistress.

"What!?" said Aragorn.

"Edmund Pevensie," she called.

"What!? TRAITOR!" yelled Macbeth jumping to his feet. "You will die for this!"
There was an exasperated sigh from up above and a lightning bolt sped down and hit Macbeth, making him vanish in a puff of smoke.

"THOUGH SHALT NOT RAISE THE RATING OF MY STORY!" yelled an irate voice.

"Sorry," chorused the school.

The voice sighed again at the fact that it had undermined itself and brought violence to the story by killing one of the main characters, before fading away again.

Edmund got up to make his speech.

"I am not a traitor," he began.

"I am Edmund and I know that I have been an idiot in the past, but let us not speak of that. I am going to pretend my past is clean. I would be a good candidate for school captain because I am not afraid to say what should not be said and do what should not be done. I will help our school beat all other schools and leave them flailing into oblivion behind us. I will make us win no matter what it takes, even if that means being unscrupulous some of the time. I will win at all costs!"

The school broke out in cheers, being strong competitors themselves, and clapped Edmund all the way off the stage. The teachers bent together in debate.

It was not long until the winner was announced.

"The competition today was not an easy challenge for any competitor," said the headmistress, "And it was a tough choice for us in the end as all competitors were good choices in their own ways."

"Whatever," chorused the school. They had heard all this before.

"But in the end we had to make our choice. I would just like to say that everyone is a winner and we think no less of the loser, I mean, runner up.

The winner is… Aragorn!"

The school broke out into cheers for their new-found leader. Aragorn was carried across the hall by the students and towards the front door.

"WAIT," commanded a voice, "I DO NOT CHOOSE ARAGORN. I CHOOSE HARRY."

"What!?" screamed Aragorn? "But I am the king, I have fought with inner demons and overcome adversity and embraced my destiny. I have won!"

"DO NOT ARGUE! I CHOOSE HARRY. HE IS THE CHOSEN ONE AND HE WILL LEAD YOU TO VICTORY. IT HAS BEEN FORETOLD."

"Nooo!" screamed Argaorn.

"Yes!" said Harry, "I'm captain without doing any work."

But to what end Harry lead Cawdor High school is another story, and if the author can be persuaded to write a sequel, for the right price of course, then his story may be told. But for now, I must say 'Goodbye'.