A/N: Alright random collective audience, I would like to present to you, the one you've all been waiting for. The mysterious, the outlandish, the influential and most likely the most super-tra-mazing imaginary person that is not a cartoon character (in his own words, not mine) I give you...

Leo Dicaprio!

Correction; I give you... Eel!


McGonagall screamed and screamed at me for what felt like hours. She said I was worse than Fred and George Weasley, then Sirius and James, than the whole DA including Ron and Hermione Weasley and Harry Potter. Even worse than Hagrid and his pets. She gave me a history of magic lecture on how long that enchanted ceiling had been there and everything. And then she said I had detention for the rest of the year.

And that's how I ended up here, in the great hall sending enchantments left right and center, fixing the enchanted ceiling with my two compadres in crime, Pheobe and Edmond. I was so disappointed. As Mc-G-G had loomed over me raving and roaring I had thought for sure she would expel me. I really, really did. I thought I would go back to Juny Wreck. To Eel and Jude and Lexa. Everything would be alright again. But it wasn't. Now I was stuck here, trying n vain to fit the pieces of the ceiling together like a puzzle piece. And when I wasn't doing that, I was scrubbing the enchanted staircases from the wreckage that the pixies caused and when I wasn't there, I was with Scott Annikins in the library trying to find out how to enchant the enchanted ceiling again (that was his punishment for breeding Cornish pixies in the first place). I actually asked him why he bread the pixies.

"Nuthin betta ta do roun' 'ere I gis," he said shrugging. I also asked him why he faked a limp. He smirked at me.

"The ladies luurve a man wif a severe broom injury," he'd said.

"Loser," I'd said.

The days got longer and longer as the work became harder and harder. I found it difficult to concentrate on one thing or another. I was just always wishing, always missing. Everything was getting so whirlwindy and scary and boring and weird. I was happy the next week when, while sitting alone in my bed, listening to some The Summer Obsession on my iPod , trying to block out sounds of the ball (that I was not aloud to go to!) that were wafting through the ceiling, I got a call from Eel on my cell.

"Hey Eddy," he said.

"Eel! Okay, you don't know how happy I am to hear from you! I've missed you Jude, I really have," I said.

I could practically hear him blushing over the phone. Jude isn't a very sentimental guy, if you catch my drift. "Yeah...I hope you don't expect me to say that back."

I laughed. "No, it's okay with me. But you're thinking it. I can tell."

"So what's goin on at the freak school?" he asked.

"Argh! I let some Cornish pixies loose on the school and they collapsed this huge ceiling that they enchanted to look like the sky. It's ridiculous! But it's been around since the school was started back in the stone age. I was totally hoping they would expel me. But instead they've sentenced me to a year of torture!" I complained on and on to Jude about the unfairnosity of my situation. He would quip in with something deep and smart every once n a while. "There is no death to the ocean...keep swimming," , 

"When life gives you lemons, make grape juice. Then watch everybody wonder how you did it." And I just kept on my ranting. There was nothing else I could do about my situation except complain.

Finally, when I took a breath for air, Eel exploded.

"You can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months over-analyzing a situation; trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could've, would've happened—or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and move the fuck on! So tell me, are you going to sit hear crying over spilt soup? Or are you going to make grape juice? Of course things are going to get hard, that is the way which is life. It is how you deal with the hard that determines your fate. Will you wallow in your own self pity and let people like Mc-G-G-whatsherface and some old guys who made a school walk all over you? People like your Dad and other pompous authority figures? That goes against everything you stand for! When the going gets tough, Eddy Jones gets in the tough's face and let's 'em have it! You never take anything standing down. And, really, Eddy, I am surprised that you are still at that school. You, out of anyone I know, would've devised an evil, scheming, manipulative and totally genius plan to get yourself out, quickly and easily, subtly causing chaos in your wake. And, if you think about it, that is the way of all teens! Should we stand by and let the stuffy people do as they please? Or do we rebel and create our own way of life? It is our right, no—our duty as teens to rebel against all that has any sort of logic. ARE YOU WITH ME?!"

Silence...

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"Yeah," I said, barely audible, "I'm with you."

We hung up and I lay back in my bed thinking about everything he'd said. Was I really losing myself lately? Had I been fooling myself that I was a rebel—a prankster? Was I really the non-conformist I believed I was?

Well, I reasoned with myself, if I have to ask, what does that tell me?

Yes, yes I have not been being the non-conformist I thought I was. I can't just let people walk all over me. That is not the way of Eddy! If I had even been being Eddy, then I wouldn't have come to England at all! I have been out of my extremely genius mind. And...

And then what? I realize these things now, I realize that I haven't been living up to even my own standards. But now what? What do I do? How do I right this wrong? What can be Eddy enough to undo this strange English conformist Eddy wannabe?

And then it hit me.

I got out of bed and ran down the stairs into the Slytherin common room. It was one o'clock in the morning and there were only two people left, entangled together on a couch near the fire. As I got closer I noticed Pheobe's long strands of neon-green hair, flashing slightly in the flickering fire-light.

I smirked, remembering Pheobe's 'kind-of someone'. It doesn't look like 'kind-of' to me.

I stood on my tip-toes trying to get a glimpse of the person she was sucking-face with.

Oh My God.

OH MY GOD

I covered my mouth and dashed back up the stairs, barely closing the door before hurling all over the floor.