CHAPTER 11: THE MIDNIGHT DUEL

Canada sat on the floor of the dark owlery, a sleeping Kumachurro curled up next to him. On his other side was a lantern, illuminating the two letters the nation held. The one he was currently inspecting was the one England had sent him that morning with a container of seal blubber.

Matthew, there's no need to apologize so much. Not everything Alfred does is your fault. I'm pleased to hear you're enjoying classes. Magic is quite fascinating to learn, isn't it? Perhaps you could share some of your enthusiasm and knowledge with your brother. I mean, really, he expected to be making explosives in Potions. Granted, there are some potions that can be used to make things explode, but you're not going to learn about those in the first year.

As for not being noticed, I'm afraid I don't have any new advice. Perhaps try to speak up more, and louder? To be honest, Matthew, you're more quiet and unobtrusive than is good for you. I can hardly believe I am writing this, but perhaps taking a page from Alfred's book might be good for you. If you allow him to read that sentence, I will kill you both.

I wasn't sure what kind of seal blubber would be best, so this is what the clerk at the shop suggested. If it's not the right kind, send it back and I'll see about getting some more. I'll see you at Christmas.

Arthur.

P.S. Everyone says hello, and that we miss you, too.

Canada smiled at the post-script. He wasn't sure whether England had made it up or not, but either way at least someone cared. And while the seal blubber hadn't been the brand he usually bought, Kumajury was still happy to eat it. Seal blubber was seal blubber, he supposed. He looked over the other letter, the one he was about to send to England.

Arthur, thank you for the seal blubber. It's not the kind I usually get, but Kuma seems to like it. I tried to be more noticeable today, and Professor McGonagall actually picked me to answer a question, and when I got it right she gave Hufflepuff five points! And in the common room I was only sat on once. And when I went to see Alfred in the hospital wing, the other kid there seemed to notice me, too.

Oh, yeah, Alfred got sent to the hospital wing today. The Gryffindors and Slytherins had their first flying lesson today (I had mine a few days ago, and it was really fun). They didn't really do any flying, though, because Neville (he's the one who melted Alfred's cauldron) took off too early and fell off his broom. He wasn't too badly hurt, though, because Alfred broke his fall. He was fine, of course, but Madam Hooch still sent them both to the hospital wing. They seemed confused about Alfred not being hurt, but not enough to raise any suspicions, I think. Mostly he was just upset about not being around when Harry Potter got into a fight with a Slytherin named Draco Malfoy (I'm sure his parents must have had a good reason for naming him that). It's funny how much he reminds me of you when he's yelling about betrayal.

I still haven't really made any friends yet, but I'm sure it'll happen soon. I'll write to you again when something interesting happens.

Matthew.

P.S. Please send me some of my maple syrup. I forgot to pack it, and breakfast just isn't the same without it.

He couldn't see any spelling mistakes, so he stood up, put out his arm, and gave a low whistle. He had to give a few more whistles before a barn owl noticed and flew down to him, perching on his outstretched arm. Canada folded up the letter and gave it to the bird. "Please take this to Arthur Kirkland. He should be in London, eh." The bird nodded at him, acknowledging his request, and took off into the night. Canada watched it for a while, amazed by how quietly owls could fly. Huh. The moon shouldn't be in that position this early, should it? He checked his watch and nearly jumped. Oh, maple! He'd spent more time in the owlery than he'd thought. A lot more time. If Filch caught him out of bed at this hour, he'd… well, he'd probably just give him detention and rant about the good old days when school punishments violated the Geneva Convention.

He picked up his lantern, realized it would be a dead giveaway, and blew it out. A muffled sound came from Kumajojo as the little polar bear got up. "Who are you?" he asked.

Canada patted him on the head. "I'm Matthew," he said. "We aren't supposed to be here, so we need to be quiet. You know the way to the common room, eh?"

"Yes," whispered the bear. Well, as much as a bear is capable of whispering. The bear set off, with his master following behind him.

It was a wild, meandering path they took, and after a while Canada began to suspect that his pet had lied to him. It was too dark for him to be sure, but he was pretty sure they'd gotten lost. Every time they turned a corner he feared that they'd be found by Filch, but luckily they didn't run into him.

Canada was considering grabbing Kumajingo and finding his way back to the common room on his own when he bumped into someone. "Sorry," he said, an automatic response. It took a moment for him to realize that bumping into someone right now was in no way a good thing, but by the time he realized it might be a good idea to run away it was too late.

"Alfred?" asked Harry, looking surprised and relieved. "What are you doing here? I thought you were asleep."

"I'm not Alfred, I'm Matthew," said Canada. He looked at the small party in front of him. There was Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom. Harry seemed the calmest, probably relieved not to have run into Filch, Ron was looking rather fearful, Neville even more so, and Hermione looked frustrated.

"What are you doing out of bed this late?" she demanded. "You didn't seem the type to break the rules."

"I'm sorry," Canada repeated. "I was sending a letter and I lost track of time, and now I can't seem to find my way back to my common room, eh."

The small group of Gryffindors glanced at each other, and Canada sensed an exchange of information happening between them. After a few moments Harry said, "We don't know where the Hufflepuff common room is, so I suppose you should probably come with us."

Canada blinked. Is he thinking of safety in numbers? I don't think that's a good thing in this situation, but it's not like I've got anything better to do. "All right," he said. "But why-" The Gryffindors started walking again before he could finish his question. He sighed and noticed Kumajory giving him a concerned look. He picked up the little bear and started following Harry.

As they walked, Canada found out why exactly the four of them were out of bed so late. Malfoy had challenged Harry to a wizard's duel (Canada didn't like the sounds of that), Ron had volunteered to be his second (weren't seconds for when the first participant died?), Hermione had tried to talk them out of it and gotten locked out of the common room, and Neville hadn't been able to remember the password when he and Alfred were released from the hospital wing, so the two had been sleeping in the corridor when the others had woken him up. From the sounds of it, Alfred was still asleep. He isn't going to be happy when he wakes up and finds out Harry was doing stuff without him again, thought Canada.

Far sooner than Canada would have liked they had sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed towards the trophy room, where the duel was to take place. Malfoy and his second weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Canada saw Harry take out his wand, probably in case Malfoy ambushed them. The minutes crept by with nothing happening.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered. Canada groaned internally. Now something horrible is going to happen. Thank you for jinxing it, Ron.

Sure enough, a noise in the next room made them jump. Harry had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak – and it wasn't Malfoy. "Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner." Kumahero let out a growl. It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Harry waved madly at the other four to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently towards the door away from Filch's voice. Canada's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter. "Probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Wait a minute, why was Canada so scared? He was a nation! Some crusty old caretaker wouldn't be able to do anything to him. The worst that would happen was expulsion, and that didn't matter too much to him. But it would probably matter a lot to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville, he realized. So he stayed as quiet as possible.

Just as he reached this new resolution, his pet decided that now would be a great time to say, "I'm hungry." Neville let out a frightened squeak at the noise and broke into a run – he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour. The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle. Oh, maple leaf.

"RUN!" Harry yelled and the five of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following- they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead with what Canada hoped was some idea where they were and where they were going. They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering. Canada, who was himself a bit out of breath, patted him on the back.

"I – told – you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest. "I – told – you."

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Ron. "Quickly as possible." They seemed to have forgotten that Canada was in Hufflepuff, but now didn't seem the right time to remind them.

"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You realise that, don't you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off." Canada nodded in agreement. It made sense.

"Let's go," said Harry. He seemed to have unofficially taken the place of leader, not that Canada was complaining. He seemed pretty good at it so far. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to be as simple as they hoped. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves – please – you'll get us thrown out," begged Harry.

Peeves cackled. "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caught." He noticed Canada. "Oh, it's wittle Alfwed! Not running away this time, huh? BOO!" He lunged at Canada, a ridiculous expression on his face.

Canada merely sighed. "I'm Matthew, not Alfred. And please be quiet. We don't want to get caught, eh."

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves – that was a big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!" Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives (or at least the others did. Canada was under no impression he was in any real danger), right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door – and it was locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. "We're done for! This is the end!" Canada patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves' shouts.

"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock and whispered, "Alohamora!" The lock clicked and the door swung open – they piled through it, shut it quickly and pressed their ears against it, listening. Canada was at first worried, but as the conversation between Filch and Peeves unfolded he found himself breathing a sigh of relief. It seemed that Peeves was reliably unreliable.

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered, referring to Filch. "I think we'll be okay – get off, Neville!" It seemed that Neville was tugging on the sleeve of Harry's dressing gown. "What?"

They turned around – and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, Canada was sure he was high – this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. He must have smoked some pot and forgotten about it. They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden. They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog which filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. Yup, this definitely had to be a hallucination.

The hallucination was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Canada knew that the only reason it hadn't attacked was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

He heard the click of someone turning the doorknob, much to his relief. There was a slight chance the giant three-headed dog was real, and he'd much rather face a crusty old caretaker than a freaking giant three-headed dog. They fell backwards- Harry, who must have been the one who opened the door, slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared – all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster.

As he ran, Canada spotted a familiar intersection. I think I can get back to the Hufflepuff common room from here. Without so much as a goodbye he veered away from the others. He didn't want to follow them all the way to the Gryffindor common room, not know where to go, and end up back at square one. Besides, Alfred was still asleep in the corridor there, right? He really didn't want to be around when his brother realized he'd been left out of yet another adventure. He thought of a bunch of other reasons to abandon the others as he ran towards the Hufflepuff basement.

Eventually he reached the stack of barrels that hid the entrance to the common room. His hand shaking from the exertion, he tapped the barrel with the correct sequence, and the lid swung upon, revealing the entrance. As soon as he arrived in the cozy common room he collapsed in a chair, his pet bear still clutched to his chest.

Once he caught his breath, he looked at Kumajerry. "Okay, that's it," he said to the bear. "I'm done with marijuana."

A/N: HUGS FOR EVERYONE! (^-^)(^-^) And high-fives to fictionhunter and You-Know-Who for their wonderful reviews! (^-^)/\(^-^)/\(^-^) Terry Pratchett is one of my favourite authors of all time, so thank you for the compliment, You-Know-Who! This chapter took me a while to do, partly because it's pretty long, and partly because I got distracted by stuff. And, yes, in this fic Canada is a bit of a stoner. He doesn't do it at Hogwarts, though. He's too much of a goodie-two-shoes. Also, I find leaving America out of Harry's adventures far too amusing. NEXT CHAPTER: Harry gets a broomstick. It's probably going to be pretty short. See you all next time!