Cheerleading Catastrophes
It was during the middle of the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff match when Peter noticed something weird. "The crowd's so unenthusiastic," he observed softly. The lackluster crowd barely batted an eye when James performed the Woollongong Shimmy – with his hands behind his back. Peter decided drastic measures needed to be made.
So on the next day, Peter put up posters in the common room that read:
DO YOU LOVE HAVING FUN?
DO YOU WANNA MAKE MEMORIES?
DO YOU WANNA BE THE ENVY OF ALL YOUR FRIENDS?
THEN HERE'S YOUR CHANCE!
TODAY AT FOUR P.M. THERE WILL BE
GRYFFINDOR CHEERLEADING TRY OUTS
ON THE QUIDDITCH FIELD!
THIS IS A ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME CHANCE
SO BE THERE OR BE SQUARE!
Remus was setting up the drinks station on the Quidditch pitch when Peter arrived. He was wearing a red whistle around his neck and was dressed to the nines in a grey velour tracksuit.
"Nice outfit, Petra," said Remus.
The insult flew right over Peter's head and he beamed. "Thanks, man! And thanks again for helping out with this. I really appreciate it."
"It's not like I had anything else to do." In truth, Remus had planned on reviewing over his Arithmancy scrolls, but he couldn't just say no to Peter. That would be like throwing a brick at a puppy. Not cool. Besides, one of Remus' New Year's resolutions was to be more brazen, and showing school spirit was an excellent way to do so.
At four o'clock, the hopefuls slowly began to trickle in, and after waiting fifteen minutes, Peter decided to begin.
"'Lo, all. I'm Peter," he said. "Let's begin with some warmups." Peter nodded at Remus and he pressed the play button on the magical boom box. A second later, a catchy pop song flew out from the speakers.
After ten minutes of jumping jacks, push ups and arm, head and leg rotations, Peter picked up the clipboard with a list of names. "We'll begin alphabetically. First up, Arturo Judy,"
A short girl with a wild head of curls stepped up. The music commenced.
"ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR," she slithered to the left and clapped her hands while bobbing her head beats behind the music. A few minutes into the torturous display, she jumped up suddenly, splitting her legs open and landed on the ground. The sound of ripping fabric filled the air. Her face turned ghostly white.
"Get her out of my face," said Peter shortly, and two other girls led shamefaced Arturo Judy off the pitch. James and Sirius arrived a moment later.
"How come no one invited us to the hottie fest?" said Sirius balefully.
"It's nothing personal. I just don't want you to distract the talent."
"Oh, but Remus would never do that, right? Just look at him! He's practically drooling over there!" shouted James. Remus, who was drinking water, choked at this remark.
Peter scowled. "Just take a seat," he snapped. "And try not to be too loud."
"Sheesh!" said Sirius, but they sat down.
Peter looked at the list. "Next up, Evans Lily,"
James' head snapped up at the name and he began to clap and stomp his feet and be an utter nuisance. "WOOOO! THAT'S MY GIRL! MAKE ME PROUD!"
Completely ignoring his cheers, Evans walked up to the white tape marked on the ground. When the music started, she went into a row of somersaults, humming quietly under her breath. After she had reached the end of the field, she turned around and started to roll back towards them. Peter blew his whistle when she arrived.
"Excellent effort! Remus, give her a drink. Next up is Fenton Margaret."
A willowy girl jumped at the sound of her name. Once she was acknowledged and shepherded to the front, the music turned on and they all watched as she stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights.
"Any day now, Fenton," said Peter, pointedly looking at his wristwatch.
Fenton didn't respond.
Peter face palmed.
The next few weeks blurred together with practices and outfit measurements and drama. The other houses heard about Gryffindor obtaining a cheerleading squad and they obstinately decided to create their own. But none of the Hufflepuffs had the leadership skills to be captain, and so they fell apart rather quickly. The Ravenclaws were all too obsessed on planning elaborate and physically impossible moves to put together a team, and the Slytherins deigned themselves too mature to even participate after no one showed up for their tryouts.
The Gryffindor cheerleading team wasn't all fine and dandy, either. Peter had put the girls into a vigorous diet and monitored them 24/7 to make sure that they didn't injure themselves before the big game. Most girls didn't mind, but others couldn't say the same for themselves.
"What are you eating?" asked Peter one night during dinner.
"Mashed potatoes," said Suzie Webber, a bubbly third year who was ace at cartwheels.
"Do you know what mashed potatoes contain?"
"Um…butter…milk..?"
"Yes. And what is butter, Webber? What is butter?"
"Err…fat?"
"Twenty points to Gryffindor! And do you know what fat does to your body?"
"They – they help your body function!"
"Uh-huh, but butter contains trans fat which will destroy your body. They'll clog your arteries and give you a bloody heart attack! And in the meantime, you'd to be sluggish and lazy and not to mention fat! By Geroge, Webber, are you trying to drive our team to the ground?"
Webber began to cry. Apologizing copiously, she ran away.
Peter checked her off the list. Now where to find Lucy Cornfield…
"G-R-Y, we make you losers cry! F-F-I, can you even fly? N-D-O-R, we're gonna mop you to the flo-or-or!"
"Correct me If I'm wrong, Sirius, but I thought Quidditch was played in the air and not the ground?"
Sirius, who had his binoculars trained on the cheerleaders prancing on the pitch (like many other boys in the stands), merely shrugged and zoomed in further. "I say, I've never seen a skirt so short before! Have you?"
Remus 'accidentally' elbowed the binoculars away from his grasp and off the stands.
Sirius grinned and stood up from his seat. "S'cool. I was gonna go down and personally congratulate Pete, anyway." And he ran down the bench's steps.
One of these days he's going to get himself in trouble and I'm just going to say, Sirius, who? thought Remus tiredly, jogging after his friend.
Sirius was already down at the pitch when he arrived, conversing with many cheerleaders. They were clad in sparkly red tops and yellow and red skirts. They were holding two large poofy things with gold and red streamers sticking out. Remus realized these were pom-poms.
"...And I've got tons of tattoos. Age is no problem for me, baby. I got my first one when I was eleven. No pain, no gain, that's what I always say. No, no, you can't see them. It's somewhere special, if you get what I mean."
The cheerleaders tittered.
Remus rolled his eyes.
"Sirius, I think it's time to go now. We're interrupting them."
"But we just got here," he whined.
Peter materialized beside them. "You guys can sit on the benches there. But don't disrupt us. We need our full concentration."
Sirius smirked at Remus before taking a seat, dragging a cheerleader onto his lap.
"Evans!" shouted Peter into a bullhorn. "Get off that bench and get over here!"
Evans, who was reading Why I Didn't Die When the Augurey Cried, started. "Could I join you in a few minutes, perhaps? I've just come to a really good part, and I have to know what happens next," she said.
"No can do. We need you for the pyramid."
"Couldn't you just use Sirius, or something?"
"I like that idea!"
"No," Peter said hotly. "We're not using Sirius. We're using you."
Evans leveled his look. "Not. Now."
The air seemed to freeze around them. Even the Quidditch players who were huddled around, discussing complicated tactics, stopped to observe what was happening down below.
"You've got five seconds, or else someone's going to regret it…5...4…"
"I'm not going, I'm not, Stacey," Evans shook off the cheerleader's arm. "He needs to see for himself how demanding he's gotten."
"3...2..."
"He can count all he wants," Evans remained adamant, sticking out her chin. "I'm not coming!"
"...1! You're off the squad!"
"Fine!" Evans threw her pom-poms down and grabbed her book. Shooting Peter a nasty look, she said, "You're a terrible coach, anyway!" She stormed off.
Peter snorted. "Like I care? Somebody, pass me her pom-poms!" He unzipped his velour suit, surprising the crowd when he stepped out in a sparkly cheerleading outfit. Someone wolf-whistled.
Accepting the pom-poms Remus'd handed him, Peter said, "Ladies, screw the pyramid, we're jumping right into the finale!"
"Maybe you should shave before you go on," said Sirius timidly, eyeing Peter's legs. "I don't think anyone would like to see those, mate."
But Peter shook him off. Picking up a stray broomstick, he joined the cheerleaders at the end of the field, the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors still zooming around above them. At Peter's signal, the cheerleaders slowly, but surely, balanced both feet on the broomstick - much like a surfer on a surfboard - and they steadily began to raise up.
"G-R-Y, we make you losers cry! F-F-I, can you even fly" The cheerleaders had stolen the crowd's attention. Everyone was recording this moment, for it was something no one had seen before. It would go down in Hogwarts history. It was so spectacular, that even the players were in awe. So much in awe, that they didn't even notice the miserable Bludger heading Peter's way.
"N-D-O-R, we're gonna mop you- ARRRRGHH!"
Remus and Sirius ran to their unmoving friend. James flew down.
Peter lay supine on the floor, a stream of blood trickling out of his nose.
"He's dead!" sobbed Sirius. "Those bastards killed him!"
"Nobody's killed anybody, Sirius," shushed James. "Look, see, he's breathing!"
Sure enough, Peter's eyes fluttered open seconds later. He opened his mouth to speak, but succumbed into a fit of coughs.
"I think he's trying to say something," observed Remus after Peter had calmed down. They leaned in closer to hear him better.
"I . . . Quit."
A/N: you're doing the world a favour, Peter! skirts are just not for you, tsk tsk... Thanks to Moony1972, chaosshotgun, Chuggamuffin, Our Mismatched Socks and Hpdwlotr24 for reviewing! You guys are cool beans! :DD
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Peter: Gimmie an R! E! V! Gimmie an I! E! W! What's that spell? REVIEW! What's that spell -?!
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