Chapter 1: The Foreign Exchange Students
Canada is the wallflower at the dance. It's always there, it has a nice personality, but no one wants to talk to it. And since it's so polite, it will just hang back, leaning against the wall – trying not to get in the way and quietly hoping that one day someone will come and want to dance.
In the magical community, the image was not all maple syrup and Mounties.
There was a long-standing tradition of showing up to International Magical Assemblies (IMAs) late, inebriated, and angry. It was not uncommon at all for the Prime Magical-ministers of yore to yell out hurtful things to the leaders of the other nations. It got to the point (after the attempts at enticing Canada's political leaders into AA meetings failed) that Canada was no longer welcome in the magical community.
Depressed, and mostly still drunk, the concerned Prime Magical-minister Gerald H. Hasenpfeffer, hurt and alone, adopted an extreme isolationist policy and increased federal funding to the magical military to 80%. Education didn't need any of that money.
The magical people of Canada, sensitive to his hurt feelings, didn't do anything about it. It was thus that Canada descended into a magical age of darkness for several decades until the even darker darkness of Voldemort's reign of terror descended on Europe.
As his agents were able to enter the country, they caused death, mayhem, and riots. Once it was all over and Canada had access to the wanted posters, the nation began to consider the idea that perhaps an isolationist policy had lead to the senseless tragedies.
While it was still being debated in the Magical House of Commons, the general consensus among the people had shifted towards the idea of international involvement. Canada, its heart broken, was now on the mend and ready to ask that good-looking Belgium to dance.
Prime Magical-minister Ralph Heineken sat in a large chamber at the head of a long, long rectangular table. Seated far at the other end of said table was another man in his late thirties. The Prime Magical-minister leaned back in his cushy, swiveling, many–buttoned chair and addressed the other man.
"Well, Trex…What do you think?" He asked.
Trex paused and steepled his fingers.
"Well," he chose his words carefully, hoping to avoid a magical firing squad, "I'm not entirely convinced of the rational thought processes behind this idea, but if He Who Shall Not Be Named truly is back then we must help in any way we can. It may be happening in England now, but it will soon become the world's problem."
"Those arrogant English Wizards are far too proud and prejudiced to accept any help we offer. They never returned my calls regarding the proposed project by my friend George the high school dropout who wants to build a bridge – figuratively and literally – between our two great nations! The magnificence of our idea was just too much for them. They clearly don't know how to do their job." The Prime Magical-minister sniffed. Trex raised an eyebrow in disapproval. The Prime Magical-minister noticed this and coughed nervously but made no apology for his statement.
"Yes, completely different from us. This is nothing like when the Bohemian Bog Beast was terrorizing downtown Toronto and we refused any foreign aid, or even when a sea monster sank half of Vancouver Island and we wouldn't allow the French experts on the subject to enter our borders. No, you're completely right…. Our leadership is so much more spot-on than theirs is." Trex said dryly.
"Exactly!" The Prime Magical-minister beamed, somewhat missing the sarcasm.
Trex gave an exasperated sigh and took a moment to massage his temples. There was nothing like a true politician…
"Anyway… I've already selected four of our top students for the mission."
Trex was the head of the Athabasca Military Academy of Magic, an offshoot of the actual military aimed at seamlessly integrating students after graduation. The maladjusted misfits that entered the school were incapable of getting normal, socially-acceptable jobs, so it was widely agreed that he was doing a public service. Despite his lack of funding due to political corruption (who doesn't need a villa?) the wall of his shack-like office was lined with shiny awards recognizing his distinguished service to his country…that he couldn't sell because they weren't really made of gold.
Trex handed the Prime Magical-minister the files he had put together on the selected students.
"So could you walk me through the reasons for your selection?" He asked upon receiving them.
Trex stared at the files he'd spent hours preparing and sighed for the umpteenth time during the course of the meeting.
"Well…. You could read the files, but I guess since you're such a busy man I can summarize them for you." Trex then continued, well aware of the Prime Magical-minister's illiteracy.
"Before I read you the files, I would just like to say that I protest sending children on this undercover mission to England. Surely we have capable people in the military now who could pass for teenagers and infiltrate Hogwarts. It's really rather senseless, and a needless endangerment of the young lives of my students." Trex was tense, struggling to hide his contempt.
"Ah, you worry too much, Trex. The birth rate is higher than ever! Even if all of them died, there'd be twice as many on the way. Really, with your liberal sensibilities nothing would ever get done in this country." Prime Magical-minister Heineken shook his head in amusement.
The papers crumpled a bit in Trex's shaking hands, but he began to read in a calm, steady voice,
"Bridgit Firecatcher. Age fifteen, height 5'6", weight: none of your damn business. Top of her class (class 5-7) expertise in weapons and projectiles. She is a product of the inadequate foster system you created who followed me home one day.
"Cora Willowstaff. Age fifteen, height 5'5", weight: irrelevant. Top of her class (class 5-4) expertise in stealth and tracking. Possibly a psychopath. I found her lighting a dumpster behind her school on fire – the military seemed like a natural place for her. Not to mention that her foster father of the time was not able to provide an adequate standard of living. I also adopted that one…"
"They sound perfect for the job!" The Prime Magical-minister leaned forward, seeming moved, "emotional distress and trauma makes for better soldiers! Why, look at Harry Potter! That kid has a shit-hole of a life and he killed Voldemort."
"Yes…I think it speaks volumes that you feel we should abuse our children in order to better protect ourselves…" Trex cleared his throat and continued. "Reagan Starsinger. Age seventeen, height 6'1", weight 180 lbs. Top of his class (class 7-8) expertise in healing and medicinal plants. He is a gentle soul from a military family. Although capable, he is not usually the profile that we see around here, but his family was really keen for him to "build character".
"Samantha (Sammy) Hellstorm. Age seventeen, height 5'7", weight 142 lbs. Top of her class (class 7-2) expertise in leadership and tactics. I'm pretty sure she made up her own stupid last name, but I can't for the life of me find records to the contrary."
Trex was eager to leave, so he attempted to wrap things up. "So these are the students I have assembled. They are experienced in working as a team and have proven themselves to be responsible and capable individuals who I believe are probably up to the task."
"Okay that sounds good. Well if we're all done here I'm going to take a little nosh before driving dangerously off to the horse races." The Prime Magical-minister removed a large bottle from under the table that was labeled 'tonic water'.
However, as he opened the top, Trex began to feel that perhaps 'tonic water' should not make one's eyes burn this much. The Prime Magical-minister downed the whole bottle in four gulps. His complexion turned rosy.
"'Sgood for the heart, y'know." He slurred.
Trex shook his head and began to work out in his mind just exactly what it was he was going to tell the four selected students. Though he disagreed with the decision, patriotism demanded that he carry out his orders anyway.
He knew that Voldemort's agents were only underground and, although he typically did not feel that the ends justified the means, he knew that if Voldemort had returned it was only a matter of time before history started repeating itself; before people started getting killed again… like his Leanne.
Trex pounded his fist on the highly polished surface of the table and suddenly looked heavenward.
"Damn Yooooooooou!" His voice reverberated throughout the acoustically designed chamber.
The Prime Magical-minister jumped at the sound of Trex's emotional outburst, losing at level 22 on his original Gameboy's Tetris.
"Oh great, now I owe Russia 20 tonnes of softwood lumber." He slurred and then passed out. Trex blanched.
"God help our country." He grumbled.
Leaving the Prime Minister on the floor, Trex walked quickly from the room and off of Parliament Hill to a nearby bus stop. The bus stop was very raggedy-looking and only belonged to one bus route. This bus only ran every two hours on Tuesdays from 11 am until 2 pm. The driver's name was Murry and he was very unpleasant to look at.
Finding the bus stop pleasantly abandoned, Trex ducked into the bus shelter and, in the privacy of grime-covered windows, disapparated back to the Kananaskis area with a loud crack that someone assumed was gunfire.
"So the logging industries drove the Boo Cats from their natural habitats and so they're terrorizing people on their rampage!" The animated blond girl pointed enthusiastically to a picture that she had ripped out of a library encyclopedia.
The Boo Cat, named for its discoverer Laurence T. Booley, was a fuzzy cat-shaped beast that appeared to have four tentacles emerging from its back. Courtesy of her hatred and wild imagination, the beast had many arrows drawn sticking through its side in addition to a sizeable pool of blood and a large image of herself being worshipped by mole people who, due to the fact of their irrelevance, had no distinguishing features.
"Now it's up to our heroes, Cora Willowstaff *Dun da da dun* and her sidekicks," Cora loosely gestured to her three companions, "to stop them!"
Bridgit Firecatcher gave her friend an exasperated look and pushed her off the rock she'd been standing on.
"You're hurting the rock with your wild elephant stamping! Please be careful when disseminating your ignorance."
"Your face is ignorant! Of how to look good!" Cora grumped, feeling quite unappreciated.
"Your face is guilty of this as well." Bridgit muttered. "And it has murdered children."
"I'm here to save the children!" Cora objected. "The mole people children. I'm sure that they have feelings too!"
"Oh come on! There's no such things as mole people."
"But I saw one!"
"That was a ground squirrel!"
"MOLE PEOPLE ARE REAL! A cretin like you can't understand the pain of losing your child to a Boo Cat." Cora fumed. "The mole people have known about the Boo Cats' vendetta for years. It's been silent fear and agony waiting for the other shoe to fall!"
"Listening to you is sheer agony." Bridgit, uncharacteristically irritated, shot back.
"You're not supposed to answer that! The 'dead child' card trumps all!" Cora snapped, totally insensitive.
"Would you two be quiet?" Sammy barked in annoyance. "Reagan and I are tired of listening to you bicker. Right Reagan?"
Reagan was sitting under a tree knitting a sword cozy.
"I started tuning them out when they got offensive." He smiled with a glow similar to that of an expectant mother.
Reagan was truly a rose among thorns, since he was the only one who could actually be classified as a human being. The others were some kinds of wraiths or something, consumed with anger, stupidity, or both.
But then you would never hear anything they say. A snarky voice rang out in their heads.
"Oh, you guys are back already." Reagan noted, standing up and putting his work away.
"We went on a field trip!" A spritely voice called.
In the tree, on an overhead branch sat perched three magical creatures.
The Canadian methods of magic differed from the British magic system in one very important way: it was more stupid. This may not seem possible, but it totally is. It went a little something like this:
"Are you sure you're qualified to be the Minister of Magical Education?" Media critic Billy Tungsten raised a dubious eyebrow.
"Absolutely." Muggle-raised wizard, Minister Thomas Tingleberry, didn't even pause.
"So…I hear that you have created a new magical amplification legislation…I've also heard that it's not very…good."
"What are you talking about? It's AWESOME! You get to have familiars! Like in D&D! How cool is that?" Minister Tingleberry grinned, bouncing up and down. "Instead of using wands, we'll use magical companions to amplify our magic!"
"What's wrong with wands?" Billy had paid a lot for his wand and wasn't keen to have it outlawed.
"You can drop them! Or they can be broken." Minister Tingleberry continued. "What a pain! Magical companions can be your friends and fight alongside you in battle. It's fool-proof!"
"But if your wand breaks, you can still use it a little. If an animal companion dies, not only do you lose all amplification, but you also have a life on your hands. In fact, why even bother attacking a witch or wizard? Just assassinate their animal! This seems like a bad idea."
"Treason!" Minister Tingleberry cried, and so ended the life of Billy Tungsten.
One hundred years later, the results of this decision were very apparent. Sitting in the tree bobbing his head while whistling show tunes was Toucey, Reagan's enchanted toucan. Sitting on either side of him was Tigerscry, Bridgit' fairy dragon, and Moonmist, Cora's pseudo dragon. The dragonettes were each the size of chinchillas, but between the two, very different in appearance. Tigerscry was a yellow brown color and had bright monarch butterfly wings jutting out of her back. Moonmist, on the other hand, was more of a burnt- red color, had leathery bat wings and a scorpion tail.
Reagan turned from the three to locate Sammy's companion Drifter, who should have returned with them. Drifter, a large black cat about the size of an ocelot with spikes on its tail and large luminescent green eyes, had come to Sammy's side and rubbed his head against her leg.
Sammy, eager to avoid a stupid discussion between the two junior members, ran up to the tree that the creatures were sitting in with Drifter in tow.
"Where are they?" She called up to them.
One of the Boo Cats is down by Mt. Carthew, about 250 meters away from the big boulder we passed before. The other one is sleeping in a bush of raspberries not far north of here. Moonmist reported
"Dibs on tagging the one in the raspberry bush!" Sammy exclaimed immediately.
"Hey! No fair!" Cora yelled as she stomped on wild flowers.
"You just took the easy one." Bridgit muttered.
Reagan just grinned, secretly happy.
"Tough. You guys have to get the one that's more of a pain, and Reagan and I will take the one that's asleep." Sammy grinned.
"Tagging these rogue Boo Cats for pickup is kind of a weird extra-credit assignment, you know?" Cora made conversation. "Especially since we failed alchemy. You'd think it would have something to do with what we failed."
"We didn't fail it." Sammy said hotly, gesturing to herself and Reagan.
"I kind of suspect this is a different kind of test." Reagan intoned darkly, but refused to offer any details.
"Okay everyone! Remember that they can alter your depth perception so that they can appear closer or further away than they really are. Also, watch out for their tentacles! A single touch could paralyze you long enough to give the Boo Cats time to sink their claws into you." Sammy was about to say more but Bridgit and Cora were already walking away.
"Okay, whatever." They offered their farewell.
Sammy deflated visibly, disappointed that no one would listen to her seeing as she was the assigned leader.
"There, there." Reagan teased her, patting her on the shoulder.
"Note to self: Increase the fear." Sammy muttered to herself.
Bridgit and Cora picked their way through the thorny path, wondering all the while if Moonmist hadn't told them to come this route just so he could watch them get gouged and scratched.
"So where is it?" Cora asked impatiently.
"Over there!" Tigerscry pointed to a clearing ten feet away.
"I'll go! I'll use my awesome ninja skills to sneak up on it. You can just watch my back." Cora waved dismissively at Bridgit.
"Tee hee! Ninjas are cool." Bridgit laughed in order to avoid being swept up in another one of Cora's ego trips.
Using her awesome ninja skills, Cora crept through the bushes without rustling even a single leaf. Moonmist sat perched on her shoulder, camouflaging himself perfectly with his surroundings. As she approached the clearing, the Boo Cat gradually came into view. It appeared to be an overly large panther at first glance… that is if you ignored the pupil-less, glowing white eyes and the half meter-long tentacles coming out of its back.
Okay, all I have to do is sneak up on it and stun it and then I'll be done in time to watch the hockey game. Cora thought patriotic thoughts to herself as she crouched in the bushes.
Cora… it's right there. Moonmist's tense voice projected itself into her mind.
"Yeah, I see it." Cora whispered almost inaudibly, raising her arms to cast a stun spell.
Oh no you don't! Moonmist was beginning to sound terrified. Cora suddenly had a nasty feeling.
"Germanusaum videre." Cora's eyes crossed as the spell she had cast cleared her senses from any outside interference. Then a black, furry face with pupil-less eyes suddenly came into view only a few inches from hers. Foul breath brushed across her face, causing her eyes to water. Only one thought crossed her mind as she met those glowing eyes.
"I am so screwed." She uttered.
Cora slowly started backing away as the Boo Cat watched her with a sort of half interest. Then, it drew back its lips in a snarl, baring its sharp pointy teeth, and gave a low growl. Without further warning, it leapt at her.
"BRIDGIT!" Cora yelled as she barely managed to throw herself out of the beast's way in time, rolling to avoid a tentacle.
There was no response. Cora could no longer divert any attention to calling for help as she did an odd sort of dance to avoid the intertwining tentacles. Moonmist stabbed one with his tail, digging his claws into Cora's shoulder in order to maintain his perch. He didn't dare take flight amidst the flailing tentacles.
You're not supposed to take me into battle! What would you do if I died? Moonmist wailed.
"What would you do if I died?" Cora shot back, avoiding a swiping claw.
I don't know… be free?
"I've had it up to here with-" Cora suddenly tripped over a fallen tree branch. Her eyes widened with fear as the tentacles poised themselves. But then….
FWOOMP!
A dart suddenly lodged itself at the base of the Boo Cat's skull. It paused for a moment in confusion and then slumped to the ground unconscious. Cora stood up from the dirt and brushed herself off.
"Nothing I couldn't handle." She put her hands on her hips and grinned.
"Please. You'd be lost without me." Bridgit smiled coming out of the bushes, blowpipe in hand. Cora stuck her tongue out at her.
"Fine. Oh thank you great Bridgit for getting off your lazy butt to come help me!" Cora snapped.
"Hey! If I'd run in there all willy nilly like you did, we would have lost the element of surprise and god knows how long it would have taken us to get this done!"
"Oh blah blah blah! You just wanted to see me sweat!" Cora grumped, paraphrasing adequately.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Bridgit batted her eyelashes and looked skyward in innocence, the very picture of sarcasm.
"I'm hungry! Let's go back to camp and eat!" Tigerscry whined.
"Fine." Bridgit and Cora grumbled.
They tagged the Boo Cat for the pickup and relocation crews to find and left it sleeping peacefully as they trudged back to camp.
Look at me! I'm frazzled and I'm losing scales! This is all your fault, Cora! Look at my beautiful face! Moonmist griped, digging his claws into her shoulder.
"Ow!" Cora exclaimed.
"Hey! I thought you were supposed to be our magical companions." Bridgit said in irritation. "Something about whining doesn't strike me as magical."
"Or companion-y!" Tigerscry, somewhat of a ditz, piped up.
None of us ever had a choice! Do you think Cora or I are happy about this? Moonmist howled.
"I love you Bridgit!" Tigerscry chirped.
"I love you too!" Bridgit responded, hugging her dragonette with a smug look. Cora and Moonmist glared venomously at the pair.
They arrived at the camp shortly thereafter.
"Hi guys! How'd it go?" Reagan called out to them.
"Yeah guys. What took you so long?" Sammy demanded.
"Well we finished so quickly we decided to do a little bird watching before coming back." Cora responded with a strained smile. "You know, seeing as how easy our target was."
"Yes, the wildlife here is so fascinating. I saw a blue-footed booby." Bridgit didn't even try to smile.
"Whatever. Anyway, look what was here when we got back." Sammy passed them a note which read:
Meet me at the main house ASAP. – Trex
"What do you think this is about?" Cora asked the group in general.
"Yeah, we haven't done anything wrong… recently." Bridgit thought aloud.
"I guess we'll just have to go and find out." Reagan suggested.
"Okay… We'd better get going then." Sammy sighed.
They all disapparated from the clearing with a loud crack. Instants later they were in front of a dinky little log cabin at the base of a mountain. It was mountain HQ, AKA the Main House. How sad.
They pushed open the door to the sight of Trex sitting on a couch, which bore an ugly yellow and brown floral pattern, drinking coffee from a stainless steel travel mug that said "Athabasca REPRESENT!"
"Oh, you made it! Have a seat on our low-budget, ugly furniture!" Trex greeted them.
Sammy and Reagan seated themselves on a faded, green loveseat while Cora leapt into a rocking chair, almost capsizing it in the process. Bridgit flopped on the last piece of available furniture, a racecar bed with no sheets and its mattress still in the packing plastic.
"I have called you here on a matter that is of grave importance. Our government has received a very urgent communication from Albus Dumbledore at-" Everyone snickered, and then Bridgit and Cora burst out laughing.
"Ha ha ha ha! Dumbledore!" Cora laughed.
"It's Dumble-icous!" Bridgit giggled
Trex, having half-expected this, but secretly hoping it wouldn't happen, looked annoyed.
"Wait a minute!" something dawned on Reagan. "Within the magical community Canada hasn't had contact with England in years after they two-timed us with France!"
"You two should show more respect! Dumbledore was the only person Voldemort was ever afraid of!" Sammy, sucking up to Trex, snapped at Bridgit and Cora even though she herself was having trouble saying the ridiculous name with a straight face.
"Who cares? Voldemort is dead." Bridgit said. " That Potter kid killed him."
"That's where the urgency of the communication comes in." Trex interrupted their laughter. Last year during Harry Potter's fourth year of school, Voldemort apparently completed a ritual that brought him back from his death-like state. So apparently he's not dead now... He's not very happy either."
"Go figure." Cora muttered, all laughter gone now.
"Umm…sir? What does this have to do with us?" Sammy asked the question that was weighing heavily on everyone's minds.
"I was just getting to that part. Because Fudge's government refuses to acknowledge the return of Voldemort, Dumbledore has no legitimate call for hiring any kind of extra protection for the school or Harry Potter, whom he is convinced Voldemort will make an attack on."
"Sounds like their ministry really fudged up." Bridgit made a terrible pun. Trex made a face.
"Moving on! The solution Dumbledore has come up with is: if military students came from Canada posing as foreign exchange students, they would be able to watch over the school and Harry Potter under the guise of promoting unity and international friendship."
There was a lengthy pause while everyone stared at him. Wanting to break the silence, Bridgit decided to give her valuable input.
"I knew a guy named Harry Butt once."
"That's… great." Trex muttered.
He hated having group meetings with Bridgit.
"Uhh… sir?" Cora raised her hand. "You were talking about us, weren't you?"
"Brilliant deduction Sherlock." Trex congratulated his hapless student. "Your mysterious mission was a test, not for extra credit, but to see if you were smart enough to not die if we sent you to England.
"But the test had nothing to do with England." Bridgit protested.
"Well, it wasn't my idea." He muttered darkly. "Actually, I think having people disguised with polyjuice potions entering Hogwarts to protect the school is a much better idea, but for some reason Albus specifically requested children."
There was an uncomfortable silence.
"So you're sending us on babysitting duty?" Sammy asked incredulously.
"In so many words… yes!" Trex admitted. They all stared at him darkly.
"I've already taken the liberty of having your belongings sent over." He continued brightly. "So all you have to do is take this portkey," He held up a stuffed beaver, "and go have your debriefing in England."
"Don't they hate us in England?" Cora asked.
"Yes, but building good international relations is now part of your jobs."
"Are we getting paid?" Bridgit whined.
"No dice." Trex said flatly.
"I suppose we don't have any choice." Sammy conceded darkly.
"Nope! Bridgit, Cora, since you're in his age group you will be in charge of guarding Harry Potter. Try your darndest to get into Gryffindor… it will make it a lot easier to do your job."
"As opposed to what?" Cora asked desperately, not alone in having no idea what Gryffindor was.
"Sammy and Reagan." Trex continued without missing a beat. " I expect you both to attend your classes, guard the school, and most importantly watch those two!" He pointed at Bridgit and Cora. "Well… I guess that's about it. You'll get more information upon your arrival in England. So, you'd best be off." He gestured to the beaver.
"Is that it?" Bridgit asked bleakly. " Is it really that easy for you to send us off like that?"
Trex paused, and the overly cheery mask dropped from his face.
"Don't think for one minute that this has been easy for me. I thought long and hard about it before I made the decision, and even then it was the hardest one I've ever made in my career as headmaster. Normally I wouldn't have agreed, but you must understand that since Voldemort is back, no one is safe. This is everyone's problem and if guarding Harry Potter is the thing we can do to help, then it must be done. We have to stop him at all costs. I've devoted my life to training students in case of an evil such as this and I truly think you guys can pull this off. Don't underestimate yourselves. I've seen what you can do when you work together," The four looked guiltily at one another, " so I know you can do this."
"That was a great unification speech." Sammy admitted
"I thought so." Trex shrugged. Cora leapt to her feet, standing on the rocking chair.
"We won't let you down sir!" She shouted and then fell over, taking the rocking chair with her.
"Motivational too." Reagan noted as he went to help Cora up.
"Hogwarts won't know what hit 'em!" Bridgit grinned, also swept up by the speech.
"That's what I'm afraid of! Try and be diplomatic… and remember: you're under cover."
"We're discretion itself." Reagan offered assurance.
"I'm a spy!" Bridgit and Cora cheered, causing everyone to blanch.
"Undercover! Undercover!" Toucy cawed.
"Uhhh… let's go now!" Sammy suggested. They all rushed to the portkey and vanished leaving a horrified-looking Trex behind.
"Good luck. Just come back alive." He said softly.
Trex then left the cabin to attend a staff meeting about their ever dwindling education budget.
