POYW Rewrite V2 - Harry Hook x reader

Roar, love spells, and the big game-P7

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Harry looked, and felt, so out of place. He turned in the boy's locker room mirror, scowling at himself. Bright blue and yellow were not his colors, and the fabric for the uniform was weird too, it was clearly designed with full mobility in mind while using breathable fabric to maximize comfort. Harry pulled at the two yellow hoodie strings that were far longer than they needed to be, wondering why they were even there?

As far as he knew, fencing usually had full body armor, not a peek of skin to be shown, so why did fencing parkour have hoodies with no sleeves and pants that were loose enough to hike above his knees? "Auradon's fuckin' weird," Harry grumbled, grabbing his fencing gloves and helmet, collecting his sword at the amphitheater entrance, and putting his gloves on; nodding as Fergus came over and greeted him with a grin and a hand on his shoulder.

"Ye ready? There's only a spot open sae ye gotta gie it yer best, or at least; better than lae ay them," Fergus gestured to the other guys who were trying out for the open spot on the team, there were about 7 total, including Harry. According to the rule book Harry had been given by FG, there were eight main players plus their captain; nine members overall. And currently, the team was down a man thanks to one of their players moving away.

"Aye, that should be easy," Harry chuckled, spying Gil, Jane, Jay, and Carlos on the 2nd floor. Gil and Jane waving enthusiastically, he grinned back and turned back to Fergus "Who do I need ta impress?"

Fergus pointed across the room, and Harry noticed the captain standing on one of the parkour blocks, wearing a black and yellow uniform instead of blue and yellow, a clipboard in hand with their sword balancing on their leg. Harry's jaw dropped-realizing who the captain was. "(y/n)?" Harry gasped, his jaw dropping open. Fergus laughed, hand on his stomach as you looked over your shoulder at Harry, grinning at him. "She's tha' captain?"

Fergus nodded, adjusting his gloves and grabbing his sword-making sure the protective tip was on. "Aye, she's bin teh keptin fur abit a month an' a half now-beat Chad out ay th' captains position." Harry nodded, recalling one of the rules that if one challenged the captain and won-with approval from the coach-they would become the new captain.

You blew the whistle around your neck, gaining the attention of your team and the new guys. "Okay! We'll have two matches. The seven of you will have a match against each other, and the last two standing will be going against the eight of us, if you can last-you're in. That is-if you impress me, fail to do so, and I'll simply have to hold another session," you said sternly, reminding Harry of Uma. He licked his lips, lifting the fencing helmet to sit at the back of his head as you instructed the 7 of them into 2 lines, three on each side and one at the end.

"If your sword gets knocked out of the ring, you're out! If you are tagged on your torso, aka the vital area, you're out! If you're knocked out of the ring, out!" Harry glanced around-seeing a thin but bright yellow oval surrounding the area-once you stepped out-you were out. So it was like normal fencing but-way more complicated and included parkour. "If I see any foul play, out! Remember-while these swords have protective tips-their blades are still very real-play safe and play nice. Ressembler!"

Harry took a moment, but figured that was the command to stand straight, sword and balance hand out straight-since that's what everyone else did. He took a deep breath, eyes on you. You looked back, smirking at him and he felt a flutter go through his gut; he forced himself to look back at his opponent, giving him a sharp smirk as he stared back-clearly afraid of Harry as he swallowed harshly-averting his eyes. "Salute!" Harry lifted the sword so the blade faced the ceiling-his eyes not leaving his opponent. "lower the point-masks down!"

Harry drew the blade down and shifted his mask in place, his vision barely obscured through the thin mesh. He smirked; he had this in the bag. Since he was a kid-he had been trained in many forms of combat-from fencing to hand to hand. His father wasn't a captain in the royal armada for nothing after all.