CHAPTER 9: TODAY I LEARNED A NEW WORD
If America had been asked last night how he thought today would go down, his conjecture probably wouldn't have included lugging his slug-puking friend across the grounds, but that was exactly what he was doing. At least they'd managed to stop that Creevey kid from taking pictures. If Ron's current state had been immortalized in moving photograph, he'd probably flush so much his face burned off from the heat.
As the strongest of the group, America quickly took over supporting Ron's weight. He was able to move at the same speed as normal, but then he realized that would just add more fuel to Hermione's fire of suspicion, so he slowed down a bit. Harry and Hermione refused to go on ahead, hovering nearby and giving Ron worried looks and occasional reassurances.
"Nearly there, Ron," said Hermione, as Hagrid's cabin came into view. "You'll be all right in a minute… almost there…"
America rolled his eyes. "Hermione, dude, he's throwing up slugs, not blood, stop being melodramatic." Then the door to Hagrid's house opened and just about the worst person to have around at this time stepped out. "OH CRAP IT'S GLINDA THE SPARKLY WIZARD, HIDE!" He dragged Ron behind a bush and Harry and Hermione followed, the latter somewhat reluctantly.
"You were saying about melodrama?" Hermione hissed.
"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!" America could hear what Glinda was saying even from here. Hagrid's standing right there, you don't have to shout. The hypocrisy of this thought went completely over his head. "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book – I'm surprised you haven't already got one. I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, goodbye!" And he strutted towards the castle. As much as America didn't like him, he had to admit Glinda could strut. Give him a pair of high heels and put him on a runway and he could be a model. Maybe if he'd entered that career, it would have saved everyone quite a bit of trouble.
America waited until Glinda had strutted out of sight, then pulled Ron out of the bush and up to Hagrid's front door, Harry and Hermione following. They knocked urgently. Hagrid appeared at once, looking very grumpy, but his expression brightened when he saw who it was. "Bin wonderin' when you'd show up, Matthew's already here – come in, come in – thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again."
Canada, sitting at the table with a cup of tea, waved at them. "Hey, guys!" he whispered cheerfully. Kuma-whatever-his-name-was was staring up at the pheasant hanging closest to the floor with a calculating expression and ignored the newcomers.
America sat Ron down in a chair and let Harry do all the explaining. He, meanwhile, sat down next to Canada. "How ya doin', bro?" he asked in a quieter voice than usual, not wanting to drown out Harry's explanation.
Canada smiled at him. "I'm doing pretty well, eh," he whispered. "I forgot a bit of stuff over the summer, but I've been catching up in the library, so I'm okay."
America rolled his eyes. "If you and Hermione had your way, we'd spend all our time in the library, wouldn't we?"
Canada chuckled. "Probably." His expression became more serious. "Speaking of the library, I've-"
"Better out than in," Hagrid said cheerfully, plonking a large copper basin in front of Ron. "Get 'em all up, Ron."
Canada gave America an apologetic look. "Sorry, looks like it will have to wait, eh." It was just about all America could do not to grab his brother and try to shake the politeness out of him.
"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," said Hermione anxiously, watching Ron bend over the basin. Brain, get out of the gutter, not like that! "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand…"
While Hagrid plonked a teapot on the table and Fang slobbered all over his robes, Harry asked, "What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?"
"Givin' me advice on getting' kelpies out of a well," growled Hagrid, pouring out tea for all of them. America had no idea what a kelpie was, or why you would want to get it out of a well, but he decided to leave it be. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some Banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle." America didn't know what a Banshee was, either, but he did know rightful criticism when he heard it. It was a bit surprising to hear it coming from Hagrid, who was usually respectful towards teachers, but America certainly understood why someone would criticise Glinda the Sparkly Wizard.
Hermione didn't feel the same way, because she said in a high-pitched voice, "I think you're being a tad unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the man for the job-"
"He was the on'y man for the job," said Hagrid, offering them a plate of treacle fudge, while Ron coughed squelchily into the bin. America blamed the former for the latter. He himself felt a bit like hurling at the sight of whatever the hell that stuff was. "An' I mean the on'y one. Getting' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me," said Hagrid, jerking his head at Ron. "Who was he tryin' ter curse?" Canada was looking curiously at the puking red-head, too.
America felt that Harry had done enough explaining and metaphorically stepped in. "Draco Malfoy called Hermione something. I can't remember what it was, but it must've been totally offensive, 'cause everyone started going crazy."
"It was offensive," said Ron hoarsely, emerging over the table top looking pale and sweaty. "Malfoy called her 'Mudblood', Hagrid-" Right, that was the word! Ron ducked out of sight again as a fresh wave of slugs made their appearance.
Hagrid looked outraged. "He didn'!" he growled at Hermione.
"He did," she said. "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course…"
"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," gasped Ron, coming back up. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who was Muggle-born – you know, non-magic parents. There are some wizards – like Malfoy's family – who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood." He gave a small burp, and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand. He seemed completely desensitized to it at this point, because he threw it into the basin and continued, "I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville Longbottom – he's pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up."
"He's good at Herbology," Canada whispered, but everyone ignored him.
"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can't do," said Hagrid proudly, making Hermione go a shade of magenta America had never seen on a human.
"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," said Ron, wiping his sweaty brow with a shaking hand. "Dirty blood, see. Common blood. It's mad. Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muffles we'd've died out." He retched and ducked out of sight again.
America glared out the window towards the Quidditch pitch. "Kinda wish I hadn't let those dudes off so easy now," he growled.
"Well, I don' blame either of yeh for wantin' ter hurt him," said Hagrid, jerking his head towards America and the out-of-sight Ron. "Bu' maybe it was a good thing Ron's wand backfired and Alfred let 'em off easy. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble."
Harry tried to say something, but his jaws seemed glued together by the treacle. "Harry," said Hagrid suddenly, as though struck by a sudden thought. "Got a bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"
America laughed while a furious Harry wrenched his teeth apart. "I have not been giving out signed photos," he said hotly. "If Lockhart's still putting that about-" He cut himself off when he noticed Hagrid was laughing, too.
"I'm on'y jokin'," he said, patting Harry on the back with enough force to send him face first into the table. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need the. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."
America laughed even harder, managing to gasp out between laughs, "I bet – HA! – Glinda didn't – HAHA! – like that."
Hagrid frowned in confusion. "Glinda?"
"It's Alfred's new nickname for Lockhart," Harry explained. "It's short for Glinda the Sparkly Wizard."
Hagrid raised an eyebrow, clearly not getting the reference. America was too busy laughing to care. "All righ', then. Anyways, he didn' like me sayin' tha'. An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go. Treacle toffee, Ron?" he added, as Ron re-appeared.
"No thanks," said Ron weakly. "Better not risk it."
"Good idea." Hagrid turned his plate of treacle horror to America and Canada. "Alfred, Matthew? Want any?"
To America's horror, Canada reached towards the plate. "Thank you, Ha-"
"NOOOOOO BRO DON'T DO IIIIIIIITT!" America knocked the plate away, sending it crashing to the floor. He stood up, feeling very heroic. "YES! THE HERO HAS PROTECTED YOU ALL FROM THE TREACLE MONSTER!" Everyone else in the room looked at him weird. "What?"
A/N: HUGS FOR EVERYONE! \(^-^)/ BEWARE THE TREACLE MONSTER! Also, this chapter made me wonder why Lucius hasn't come to Hogwarts to confront America for punching his son. Anyone got any suggestions? Annnywaaays, Q&A! First of all, to all the people with wonderful suggestions for who should visit Hogwarts: GAH THERE ARE SO MANY GAAAH! Sorry. You all have great suggestions, but I'm worried that I couldn't use them all without Hogwarts turning into a Nation train-station. Please know that even if I don't use your suggestion, I still appreciate it. To Insufferable Proximity: I think that American can be serious and smart when things are looking dire, but if he's just in an everyday situation he'll be goofy and dumb because it's more fun. To alovinggirl (not really a question, but I wanted to respond): AAWWWW THANK YOU! Here, have a hug. \(^-^)/ Now I'm totally imagining America with that face. Do you think chainsaws would work at Hogwarts? Because it they do, now I kind of want to write a scene where America just chases Malfoy around with a chainsaw. Your suggestion is very interesting (I hadn't thought of doing anything like that), and I'll definitely take it into consideration. Please don't be sad if I don't use it, though, because I'm just making this up as I go along and a lot of stuff I want to do in the future right now probably will never happen. Thank you all once again for your great reviews, follows and favourites! You're way too nice to me. NEXT CHAPTER: Canada tells America why they can see the bat-horses. See you all next time!