A/N: Ya make me wanna la la… Oh, uh, just singing along to a song. Enjoy this chapter!
Chapter Eleven: Gossip and Coach Grinder
As it turned out, Snape never showed up in Potions. Filch came and gave Seamus and Dean detentions for throwing spitballs, but that was about the only discipline they got.
Still miffed about being cut off in Potions, Draco made his way to his next class, stealing a glance at the Golden Trio, minus a scarred half-blood, plus a raven-haired girl. Heading off in the opposite direction he was, he wouldn't be in the same class as the Gryffindors until that afternoon's DADA class. (Unlike in the movies, where it seems as though every class the Gryffindors have is with the Slytherins.)
Thank Merlin. He thought, scowling at the floor. I can barely stand breathing the same air as them, let alone be in the same class as them.
But, back to the main characters. It was Divination for Harry and Ron, and Arithmancy for Hermione.
"See you at lunch, Herm!" They called, walking up the stairs to the Divination classroom.
Harry and Ron took their seats, and took out last night's Divination homework.
"What was the answer to that last question?" Ron whispered to Holly.
"You mean that one about the 13th sign?" Holly shrugged. "I dunno. I think it was Ophi-something or other."
Lavender glanced at them. "Ophiuchus? The constellation in the equatorial region near Hercules and Scorpius?" she said, raising her eyebrows.
Ron made a frowny face and looked down at his uncompleted homework, and muttered, "Suck up."
In that afternoon's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Snape tried to maintain his usual 'you-pull-that-bull-with-me-and-I'll-take-thirty-points-from-Gryffindor' persona, but it didn't take a genius to see that he was trying to hide a smile. Malfoy had been the first student to hand in all the necessary ingredients for his potion, and now that the DADA teacher was gone, Snape was the new professor at last.
A Gryffindor boy raised one of his eyebrows, and looked over at another boy. "It looks like Snape's gonna wet himself with glee he's so happy."
Hermione smiled as Holly and Ron took their seats beside her. "Oh, I forgot to ask at lunch: How was Divination?"
Ron scowled. "I got a Dreadful on my paper."
Holly laughed. "Trelawny saw his half-blank paper, and made the amazing prediction that he'd fail."
Hermione was about to laugh too, but Snape had started the class and she didn't want thirty points taken away from her house.
Once he had everyone's attention, Snape wrote his name on the board and underlined it three times. "Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts." He growled. He'd practiced saying that over and over in front of the mirror that morning to make sure he got it exactly right. "Now, can someone give me an example of illegal use of a Red Cap's fingernail?"
Hermione's hand shot up almost by instinct, and instinctively Snape's instinctive was to instinctively ignore Granger's instinctive reaction… instinctively.
"No one?" Snape asked. "What about you, Malfoy?"
Draco looked up at him, and then looked at the blackboard for clues as to what the answer was.
'An Illegal Use Of A Red Cap's Fingernail: Burning them in a blue fire at noon in September. This will cause a chicken-like figure to emerge from the flame and murder the first human it sees' the board read.
"Burning it in a blue flame at noon in September, professor," Draco answered, sitting up straight.
"Excellent. 5 points to Slytherin." Snape said.
Ron, Hermione, and Holly all rolled their eyes. It wasn't the first time they'd wished Snape's class would hurry up and finish.
"So," Ron said, his mouth full of that evening's dinner. "How many points did Slytherin get in Potions?" he asked, annoyed.
Hermione flipped her hair out of the way of her food. "Fifty-three."
"That's got to be a new record." Holly added, also in an annoyed tone. She was about to bite into a forkful of spare ribs, when she noticed Pansy Parkinson glaring at her from the Slytherin table.
Hermione turned around to see what Holly was looking at. "Why is Parkinson looking at you like that?"
Ron snorted, and made his voice go higher, imitating Pansy. "That girl looks just like that Scarhead boy." He trilled.
Hermione and Holly laughed, Holly spitting out her food from laughter.
Pansy scowled in their direction. "Look, Draco. She hangs out with them."
Draco honestly didn't care right now. He was really hungry, and he had ten minutes to scarf down as much food as possible before he and a few other boys had to meet with Professor Sprout about why a group of first-years' Mandrakes were hideously maimed. "Pansy, I need to eat."
She nudged him in the shoulder. "But seriously! Look at her! She looked my way and spat out her food!"
A girl sitting across from Pansy looked at her. "I bet she's bulimic." She quipped.
"She's jealous, is what I think." Pansy said angrily.
"Of who?" the girl asked.
"Me, of course." Pansy said. "She's so unpopular she has to hang out with Potter's group of friends."
"It's a shame, really," one of Draco's friends chimed in. "I mean, she's certainly easy on the eyes, eh, Malfoy?"
"Shut up, dimwit." Malfoy said.
Pansy wasn't paying attention. She was glaring at Holly again.
"Oh, give it up, Parkinson." The boy said, helping himself to another spare rib.
The girl glanced at Malfoy from under her eyelashes. "I heard your cheerleading team gave you the boot?"
"I gotta go." Was all Draco said, getting up to leave.
"I heard all the cheerleaders gave Malfoy the boot?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, but we still have to go to cheerleading practice." Holly replied disappointedly.
"Who's gonna be the new captain?" Ron asked. "The school won't actually let you be captain, will they?"
Holly shrugged. Then, "But I'd better get going. Practice is in five minutes."
Ron and Hermione waved goodbye as Holly walked out the Great Hall doors.
"What the heck is this?"
"Who's he?"
"Where's Holly"
"What's with the tires?"
Several other comments ending in question marks… which would be considered questions, I guess… could be heard as everyone stared at a buff man of about 40 years stood in front of them.
"Stand in single line!" he shouted.
Holly was running towards the group. She'd forgotten where she put her uniform, and it took way too long to find it and put it on.
The man was not very pleased. "You part of this team?" he asked, looking down at her from his intimidating height of 6 feet and 2 inches.
"Yes," she squeaked. "I'm the captain?"
He narrowed his eyes, and put his hand on his hips. "And what makes you think that?"
"Everyone thought she should be." Ginny said. Everybody nodded, except for Holly who was looking slightly uneasy with the man looming over her.
He gave a hearty laugh. "The position's been filled, kiddo. And I intend to whip every one of you into shape."
Holly gulped, walking to the back of the line. This man was like Malfoy, only 5 inches taller and a lot more painful to look at.
He paced down the line of girls. "Say hello to Coach Grinder. That's me. I'm similar to my name, you'll see."
Everyone stood perfectly still, not wanting to think of what this wrestler-esque looking person was capable of doing.
He gripped the whistle around his neck. "You do what I want, when I want. I want you all to show me what this Malfrey boy had taught you."
"Um, we haven't really been doing our routine, you see." A girl said nervously.
He slapped his leg. "So you're untrained to, eh? You're more pathetic than I thought. Looks like you'll all have to take my little test." He took out his wand and flicked it at an open area. A display of what looked like military tires, ropes, ladders, and other things appeared.
Coach Grinder explained what to do at each station, and blew his whistle. "Go!"
Cheerleaders plus Boot Camp equals … need I explain?
By the time practice was over, everyone was covered in dirt and sweat. Now, Holly wasn't as dramatic as some of the other girls about the situation, but no one like being forced to crawl under barbed wire while wearing a skirt, do they?
Holly was dragging herself inside, helping Ginny as she limped inside, when she spotted Malfoy looking out the windows by the doors.
"What the hell did you make them all do, Palmer?" Malfoy asked, raising an eyebrow at their dirty uniforms.
Holly scowled. "Not me, it was Coach Grinder."
"He's horrible." Ginny moaned, leaning on Holly. "Although no one could be as horrible as you, Malfoy."
"I never remember any of my girls walking away from practice covered in dirt," Malfoy replied. "So, how horrible is he?" he asked, looking straight at Holly. He grinned.
Holly glared at him. "You just like seeing us suffer."
Draco shrugged. "I wasn't the one who kicked me off the team, was I? Who says I shouldn't be enjoying this?"
"Shut up." Ginny and Holly snapped.
"Don't want me back?" Draco asked, although he didn't say it quite like someone would say a question. He turned his back to them and continued to stare out the window. "Suit yourself."
Holly waited to see if he had anything else to say, then helped Ginny the rest of the way to the common room.
A/N: Heheh… still listening to La La. Anyway, so uh I don't really know what to say right now, except that when I found time to write this chapter (like, 1:00 am) it was pretty fun. I own Coach Grinder. Wait…! Not like that, but you know. In the way that I invented him. I don't own Harry Potter.
In the next chapter of Let's Go Hogwarts 2… will Coach Grinder and Professor Snape be ble to keep their new jobs?