Harry Spotter & The Laborious Lift

Harry Spotter walked into London Fitness feeling quite determined. He'd spent the last year bulking up, and not even Peter Repigrew- a fellow gym rat - was going to stop him from breaking the local record this time.

He stuffed his gym bag into a locker and paused to appreciate himself in the mirror. His arms were looking especially swole today. Those training hours, special diets, and lack of any kind of social life had been worth the gains. He flexed his biceps and twisted his torso, swelling with pride.

"I thought I might find you in here, Spotter," a familiar and not-at-all-welcome voice announced nearby. "Staring at yourself in the mirror again? Pathetic!"

Harry turned. Sure enough, it was Draco Macroy, Harry's bitter rival. He was wearing a pair of dark sweatpants and looking rather piqued. "You wish you could have guns like this, Macroy."

"I heard you embarrassed yourself on the chest press last week, Spotter," Macroy sneered. "Couldn't push a measly 220 kilos. How do you expect to beat Hagrirs record of 235?"

"Worry about yourself," Harry snapped. "Come and watch if you're so keen on finding out."

"Oh, I wouldn't miss it, Spotter," Macroy chuckled. "Personally, I think you're going to injure yourself this time. I'm looking forward to watching it happen. Look for me on the mat when you do. I'll be the one laughing."

Before Harry could think of a good response, Macroy left the locker room, grinning like an idiot. Harry turned back to the mirror and shrugged. What would a layabout like Macroy know, anyhow? Wasn't he the one who was always skipping leg day in favor of Yoga?

Several people already waited expectantly by the chest press as Harry entered the weight room. He spotted Albus Dumbelldore smiling at him encouragingly while doing lunges next to the seated flye. His best friend, Rom Weasley, nodded at him from the mat where he was doing pre-workout stretches. Minerva McGunsagall gave him a thumbs up as she wiped sweat off the vertical press.

Seeing his friends gave Harry another boost of confidence. He sat at the chest press with a smile. Rom got up and whispered encouraging words in his ear before setting the appropriate weights. Harry gripped the cool metal handles in his sweaty palms, gritted his teeth, and pushed.

The small crowd whooped and cheered as Harry struggled mightily. His body shook with effort, but he felt surges of excitement as the bar moved forward a centimeter at a time. He was going to do this. He was going to beat Hagrirs record!

The door to the women's bathroom opened and another friend of his, Hermoine Gainser, crossed the room, heading toward the ellipticals. She wore pink workout shorts that clung to her skin like thin strips of tape. As she passed in front of Harry, he saw the word 'Dreams' printed in bulky black lettering across her ample cheeks.

Harry couldn't stop himself from staring at Hermoine's gorgeous assets. His concentration slipped, and the bar swung back toward him. The weights slammed down against the others in the machine with a loud bang, and Harry felt his left bicep burn in sudden agony.

Albus approached the chest press, shaking his head sadly as Harry clutched at his arm. He leaned forward to speak. Harry had to concentrate hard over the sound of Macroy's laughter to hear him properly.

"It doesn't do to dwell on dreams, Harry, and forget to lift."

Story Word Count: 580.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this humorous story, obviously inspired by one of the greatest stories ever, Harry Potter. Did you catch all the name changes? Let me know in the comments!

I wrote this for L.C. Schäfer's September Challenge, Let the Magic Begin, linked below. I know the other stories written for this challenge will be awesome, so be sure to give them a read as well.