Harry Potter had been teaching at Hillview Middle School as a physical education teacher for five years now. It was a cozy life.
Every morning, he'd wake up at five, go jogging around the neighborhood until six, stretch, shower, have a very large protein shake, and then leave for school in his 2009 silver Mercedes Benz. He'd always park at that same parking spot just below the window to Hermione Granger's English classroom. She was a good friend of his, and incidentally, he'd grown attached to that parking spot.
Once inside the school, usually at around seven in the morning, the first place he'd hit was his office, where he'd leave his lunch in his mini-fridge and where he'd review his plans for the day.
He taught all of the sixth, seventh, and eigth graders. In fact, there wasn't a single student he did not know the name of. That was the perk of being a gym teacher. You got to teach everyone.
The next spot he'd hit was the staffroom. That was where he liked to spend most of his free time. And that was where he'd find all of his co-workers, ready for a chat.
"Oi, don't be such a killjoy, Hermione," the voice of Ronald Weasley, the math teacher, rang through the open doorway. Harry slipped inside and shut the door behind him.
"Careful about leaving the staffroom door open," he said. Ron threw him an acknowledging nod, but didn't comment.
"Harry, have you signed the syndicate sheet?" Hermione said, waving a bright yellow sheet at him.
"Er... no. What's it for, this time?"
"Really? The two of you have got to learn to care about your rights," Hermione began, but then she noticed Harry's raised eyebrows. "It's just to confirm how many students you've got in your classroom."
"Can't they just ask the secretary for this information?" Harry asked, slightly annoyed with all of the things teachers constantly had to fill out.
"Well, the secretaries don't live the realities of your classrooms — and you have to indicate how many students have a code 50 or a code 53—"
"How the bloody hell do we find that out, anyway?" Ron cried in outrage.
"Well—"
"More like, what the bloody hell are those codes for, anyway?" Harry interjected smoothly. Hermione's face fell.
"Ah, Potter and Weasley are yet again incompetent at their job," droned the voice of Draco Malfoy nearby. He held a black cup of coffee, as he did every morning, and a newspaper in the other. He'd just walked out of the kitchen area. "Can't say I'm much surprised."
Harry rolled his eyes. The science teacher was always such a dick for no reason.
"Can't say I asked, either, yet here we are," Harry quipped. Mr. Malfoy snickered before taking another sip from his coffee and leaving.
"And that guy isn't fired yet because...?" Ron asked airily.
"Because, Ron, he's good at his job," Hermione huffed.
Unfortunately, Hermione was right. Mr. Malfoy was probably one of the best, if not the best, science teacher Hillview School had ever had. His students always passed the ministry examinations with flying colours, and the students who struggled somehow always managed to understand his subject. It was unfathomable.
Even though everyone theoretically was supposed to enjoy gym class, that was not always the case with Harry's students. He often found himself desperately trying to convince students to participate or care, but to no avail. Some students simply were not interested.
"Well, can't be much worse than Miss Parkinson," Ron muttered through a cough. Harry snorted.
Miss Parkinson was a French teacher he was nearly certain did not actually speak French. Nearly every single time he would pass by her classroom, they would be watching videos in English, or even worse, the teacher would just be yapping about her personal life, in English. It was utterly abysmal.
"Well, gotta go," Hermione said suddenly as she looked down at her watch. "Supervision. Later, you two."
Miss Granger left the staffroom, careful to let the door close behind her.
"So, did they make you coach, this year?" Ron asked suddenly. Harry was nearly taken aback.
"Obviously not," he groaned, not wanting to be reminded of this soul-crushing fact.
"Who is, then?"
"Guess."
"Malfoy?" Ron tried. When Harry's eyebrows jumped in acknowledgement, Ron scoffed. "Why do they keep making him coach?"
"I don't know! I keep requesting it every year. I swear, it's like they either hate me or it's rigged in his favour in some other way," Harry said, exasperatingly.
"They made you cheerleading coach, didn't they?" Ron said mockingly, though seriously.
"Shut up. You know they did," Harry groaned. He massaged his temples and laughed. "It's like Malfoy's the one choosing our tasks."
"Must be. D'you know which task they gave me? Guess the club. You won't believe it."
"Book club," Harry said wildly. Ron clicked his tongue.
"No, obviously Hermione got that one. Guess again," he said.
"Okay, er, oh, is it the feminism club?"
"No, that's Hermione too — Harry, they gave me the gay club," Ron said seriously.
"Well, what's wrong with that?" Harry said, brow furrowed, and crossing his arms at his friend.
"No, look, obviously, I don't have a problem with gay people, but Harry, I'm not gay," Ron said earnestly. Harry snorted.
"You don't have to be gay to lead the LGBT club, " Harry said with a shrug.
"But, I mean, they could've just put you instead, you know?"
Harry laughed. "Oh, because I like penis, now I have to lead gay club. Good one, Ron."
"Well, I mean, it would make more sense than me, you know?" Ron grumbled.
"You could be a really good straight ally, Ron. You got this," Harry said. He glanced at the clock and saw that he had to return to the gym to set up the cones in advance.
"But I'm not gay leader material — it's just not my place!"
"So, let the students lead — Look, I gotta go," Harry said slowly inching away towards the door.
"Yeah, yeah, leave me to rot then," Ron muttered as Harry departed.
"You got this, Straight Man," Harry called just before opening and and closing the door behind him.
The hallways weren't crowded with students since the first bell hadn't rung just yet. Harry paced through the hallways feeling like a good day had just begun. It was still the first month of school, and despite not getting the tasks he wanted, he was still satisfied. I mean, obviously the admin only gave him the cheerleaders because he was gay. Somehow, they'd never given him the gay club, which sort felt intentional, somehow?
If only Mr. Malfoy was also gay. Then, the playing field would be evened out, and they'd stop giving him all the extracurricular Harry wanted.