CHAPTER TWO: BAD FEELINGS
America had been disappointed by his awesome party idea being vetoed, but when he woke up the next morning his excitement at going back to Hogwarts outweighed that disappointment. He woke up five minutes before he really needed to and jumped out of bed. He went over to the still-sleeping Canada, leaned down, and shouted right into his ear, "YO, MATTIE, WAKEY-WAKEY!"
Canada let out a strangled yelp and flailed around a bit. America laughed until he finally seemed to get his bearings and sat up, glaring at him. "That wasn't funny, Alfred," he muttered as he untangled himself from his sheets.
"Oh, yes it was," America chuckled. The two of them got ready for the day quickly and went to Harry's room to see if he needed to be woken up, running into a grumpy Ron along the way.
"YO, DUDE, YOU AWAKE?" America yelled as he walked into the room.
Harry, who was already dressed and was just trying to coax Hedwig into her cage, jumped and whirled around. "Well, I certainly am now," he said. "I don't think there's a sleeping person in the building after that."
"I'm gonna take that as a compliment," America said brightly, sitting down on Harry's bed. He bounced on it a few times. "Dude, your bed's way comfier than mine. How much money did this room cost you?"
Harry shrugged. "I… don't actually know. I'm not sure I've actually paid for it."
America gaped at him. "What, free?" He laid back with a groan. "Top-of-the-line broomsticks, Invisibility Cloaks, fancy rooms… do you ever have to pay for anything nice?"
Harry looked a bit guilty. "Er… sorry?" His expression became more seriously. "Actually, I've got something to tell you all." That piqued America's interest enough to sit up straight again. Sadly, Fred and George chose this moment to pop in and congratulate Ron on pissing off Percy again, and Harry went quiet. Clearly, whatever he wanted to say was for his friends' ears only. Ron tried to get him to talk during breakfast, but he refused. America was too focused on not throwing up the British food to question him further.
Harry didn't have the chance to tell them whatever his secret was after breakfast, either, since everyone was busy carrying their trunks and pets downstairs. Kumawhatever wandered about freely, eating scraps off the floor and approaching random strangers for pats to the head, much to the resentment of the caged Hedwig, Hermes and Crookshanks, if the way they were eyeing him was any indication.
Mr. Weasley, who had been waiting outside for the Ministry-provided cars, stuck his head inside. "They're here. Harry, come on." Watching him march Harry to the nearest car, glancing nervously up and down the crowded street, America couldn't help but be reminded of a bodyguard escorting a threatened politician. He, Canada, Ron and Hermione all joined Harry in the back seat. The car was much bigger on the inside, which might have been impressive if America hadn't been pretty desensitized to magic by this point.
"So, Harry, will you tell us now?" asked Ron. Harry shook his head, looking pointedly at the driver. Canada and Hermione looked confused while Ron and America rolled their eyes at each other. At this rate they wouldn't hear whatever it was Harry wanted to say until they were on the train to Hogwarts.
Thanks to their physics and traffic law-defying cars, they reached King's Cross Station far faster than America would have thought possible. Once they were all out Mr. Weasley immediately escorted Harry into the station, again reminding America of a bodyguard. Once they were all in the station, they went through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ in pairs (except for Hermione, who ended up going through alone since they were an odd number). America went with Canada, of course, and this time he just barely managed to suppress the urge to run at the wall yelling a mighty warcry.
They all put away their luggage and Mrs. Weasley kissed all her children farewell, along with Hermione and Harry. Afterwards, to both their surprise, she went up to America and Canada. "You take care of yourself as well, Alfred," she said warmly, giving America a hug. America was flabbergasted. He really wasn't used to having someone else initiate a hug. Especially not the warm, motherly kind of hug he was currently on the receiving end of.
"S-sure," he stammered, completely flummoxed as to what he was supposed to say in this situation. He was rather relieved when Mrs. Weasley released him and turned to Canada.
"I haven't forgotten about you, Matthew," she said, hugging him as well. "Stay safe. And make sure your brother doesn't do anything foolish."
"I'll try, eh," Canada mumbled, clearly just as out of his depth as America had. America looked around and noticed Mr. Weasley speaking quietly to Harry, both of them looking very serious. Are they talking about what Harry wanted to talk to us about?
Before he could sneak over to try and eavesdrop, Mrs. Weasley released Canada and began shepherding them all onto the train. "Arthur! Arthur, what are you doing? It's about to go!" she shouted.
"He's coming!" Mr. Weasley called out, but America could see him turn back to Harry and continue their discussion, though to be fair it looked more rushed than before.
Mr. Weasley held Harry up enough that he just barely made it onto the train. "I need to talk to you four in private," he muttered once they'd all finished waving goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
"Go away, Ginny," said Ron.
"Oh, that's nice," Ginny huffed, and she stalked off.
"That was pretty rude, eh, Ron," said Canada reproachfully as they began looking for an empty compartment.
"She'll survive somehow," said Ron. "Is everywhere full?" It certainly seemed that way. Why couldn't they ever get first pickings? It wasn't as if they were that late. Well, okay, maybe this time they were, but they hadn't been before! Whatever the reason, the only compartment that wasn't full was at the very end of the train, and still wasn't completely empty.
The lone occupant was a man napping next to the window. They all hesitated on the threshold. America had always thought the Hogwarts Express was a kids-only ride. England had somehow gotten to Hogwarts a few days earlier, so America had assumed teachers got there via some other method. Though, judging from how shabby and patched his robes were and his air of being several meals short of healthy, perhaps this was simply the only way he could afford.
"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed, as they sat down and slid the door shut quietly, the Golden Trio quickly taking seats as far away from the man as possible. America ended up sitting across from him, while Canada was left with the spot right beside him.
"Professor R. J. Lupin," whispered Hermione at once.
"Okay, seriously, dude, how do you know everything?" America stage-whispered.
"It's on his case," replied Hermione, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head. There was indeed a small, battered case with the name 'Professor R. J. Lupin' stamped on it.
"He must be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," whispered Canada. "Unless there's another opening we haven't heard about…"
"Well, if he is, I hope he's up to it," said Ron doubtfully. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway," he turned to Harry. "What were you going to tell us?"
They all listened in rapt silence as Harry told them that Sirius Black, murderer and only person to ever escape the super-special wizard prison, wanted to kill him on Moldyshort's behalf and that Mr. Weasley had made him promise not to chase after the dangerous murderer.
America sighed. "Dude, what's really upsetting about that is how little it surprises me. Why is it people keep trying to kill you? Did you piss off divine forces or what?"
"Alfred, don't turn this into a joke," scolded Hermione. Her tone became more fearful as she turned back to Harry. "Oh, Harry… you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble, Harry…"
"I don't go looking for trouble," said Harry. "Trouble usually finds me. I think Alfred might actually have a good theory."
America grinned. "The hero's theories are always good!"
After a bit more discussion about how awful it was that Harry was in mortal danger yet again, and a spinning top thingy acting weird, the conversation turned to Hogsmeade. England had signed America and Canada's permission forms with only minimal pleading and guilt-tripping required, and the little he'd told them about the village seemed promising. Hearing Ron describe the candy from Honeydukes with loving detail was enough to make America's mouth start watering. Canada seemed more interested in the same stuff Hermione was, which was everything else in the village. America didn't listen to them all that much, but he did make a mental note to not go within a mile radius of the Shrieking Shack.
Then Harry told them the Dursleys hadn't signed his form and things got rather awkward. They were quickly distracted by Crookshanks trying to eat Scabbers again, though. As the trip went on, they started to become a bit worried that Professor Lupin might actually be dead, but Canada confirmed that he was still breathing, and they all calmed down. As quiet as the professor was, his presence came in useful when Draco Malfoy (hehe, stupid name) poked his smug face in. He'd only gotten perhaps two insults in before he noticed the teacher and backed off. Man, we should keep this guy around all the time! He's like a Malfoy-repellant!
A little while later, but not long enough for them to have arrived at Hogwarts, the train began slowing. "Brilliant," said Ron, getting up and making his way over to the window. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast…"
"Dude, I'm pretty sure we aren't there," said America, getting a sinking feeling in his stomach. Hermione nodded in agreement, looking at her watch.
"Then why are we stopping?" asked Ron.
Canada hugged Kumawhatever closer to his chest. "I've got a bad feeling about this, eh…"
The train continued to slow down, and Harry poked his head out into the corridor. Then it jolted to a halt and the sound of luggage crashing to the ground resounded through the train. Then the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.
"What's going on?" said Ron's voice.
"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!"
"Well, Mattie, looks like you were right," said America.
"Small comfort, eh," Canada murmured.
"Who are you?" came the somewhat squeaky voice of Kumawhatever.
"I'm Matthew."
"D'you think we've broken down?" asked Harry's voice.
"Dunno…" said Ron. There was a squeaking sound, and America thought he could see Ron wiping clean a patch on the window and peering through it. "There's something moving out there," he said. "I think people are coming aboard…" America leaned over to peer through the window and indeed saw vaguely humanoid silhouettes moving towards the train.
The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell in. "Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry-"
"Yo, Neville, 'sup?" said America, feeling around on the floor and pulling Neville up by his cloak.
"Alfred? Is that you? What's happening?"
"Not a clue! Sit down and-" Judging from the loud hissing and Neville-sounding yelp of pain, Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.
"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," said Hermione. America thought he heard footsteps, definitely heard the door slide open again and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.
"Who's that?"
"Who's that?"
"Ginny?"
"Hermione?"
"What are you doing?"
"I was looking for Ron-"
"Come in and sit down-"
"Not here!" said Harry. "I'm here!"
"Ouch!" said Neville.
"Quiet!" said a new, hoarse voice suddenly. It seemed Professor Lupin had finally woken up. America saw some shadowy movements in the corner, and then there was a soft, crackling noise and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin was holding a handful of flames.
"Dude, that looks totally awesome!" said America. "Can you teach me to do that?" Being able to hold flames seemed totally badass.
Lupin looked at him. "Not at the moment. Stay where you are," he said, the last sentence directed to the compartment at large. He slowly got to his feet with the handful of fire held out in front of him. But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.
A cloaked figure stood in the doorway, towering with its head brushing the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden under its hood. If it had been holding a scythe, America would probably have assumed it was the Grim Reaper and punched it in the face, because who wants to say they met the Grim Reaper and didn't punch him in the face? As it was, he simply sat there, unsure of whether the newcomer needed to be punched or not.
Then whatever it was took a deep, rattling breath, and America was plunged into his own personal hell.
A/N: Whoooo cliffhanger! And I'm probably not going to explain exactly what he saw for a few chapters, so have some HUGS \(^-^)/ as an apology. Now for the first Q&A of this book! To Serebiiet: I think I explained it in the last book, but Peeves promised Scotland that he will cause England all the trouble he can muster whenever he's at Hogwarts. To 95Jezzica: The first two questions will be answered in due time. And as for the third one, I'll leave it up to your imagination. To TheChibitalian: You should be friends with Sheldon Cooper, then. And I'm sorry, but Canamione isn't going to happen. France is just getting caught up in his shipping fantasies. NEXT CHAPTER: Harry finds he isn't the one who responds worst to the Dementors. See you all next time!