CHAPTER TWENTY: NUMBER ONE IN BEDSIDE MANNER
America woke with a start. Normally, the worst that this would result in was getting so tangled up in his blankets that it was like being trapped by Devil's Snare, or rolling off the side of his bed. This time, however, he wasn't in a bed. Instead, someone had slung his arm over their shoulders and was half-carrying, half-dragging him along. The result was the mysterious carrier getting punched in the ear and dropping him to the muddy ground in surprise.
"Oh, Alfred, you're awake!" It took a moment for the disoriented America to recognize Hermione standing above him. It was a bit hard, since her usually bushy hair was straight and lank from all the rain it had been exposed to. "How are you feeling?"
"Uh… discombobulated?" America looked around. Ron was standing nearby, rubbing his ear and looking rather grumpy. It seemed he'd managed to drag America about halfway from the Quidditch pitch to the castle. The Quidditch pitch! America sat bolt upright. "Did we win?" The look Hermione and Ron exchanged said it all. Alfred got to his feet and snarled, "All right, dudes, that's it, those Dementors are getting the righteous right hook of justice!"
Hermione grabbed his sleeve before he could take so much as a single step. "There's no need for that, Alfred. Dumbledore's already taken care of them."
"Dumbledore punched them in the face?" asked America, his respect for the headmaster skyrocketing.
"Alfred, I think we need to have a talk about your obsession with punching," said Hermione. "But, no, he shot some kind of silver stuff at them that scared them off after he saved Harry."
"Saved Harry?" asked America. "Did he have another adventure without me?!"
"If you call falling off your broom fifty feet in the air an adventure, sure," grumbled Ron. "Pretty sure he was passed out, though, so he didn't get to… 'enjoy' it."
America threw his arms into the air in exasperation. "Oh, come on! I can't believe he keeps outdoing me at getting attention! NOBODY out-dramas the Uni-" Oh, crap. He quickly switched tracks. "Un-unbeatable Alfred Jones!" I really need to work on this whole 'don't arouse suspicion' thing.
"Harry's just special that way," said Ron gloomily.
"Well, it's good to see you're… um… fine," said Hermione delicately.
Am I fine? America was surprised by how chipper he was feeling, considering the wreck he'd been last time he met a Dementor. "Yeah, me too," he said. "I guess Dementors are like poison. Deal with it once, and you're immune!"
"Alfred, I don't think that's how poison-"
"It totally is! The Princess Bride wouldn't lie to me!"
"Westley spent years building up that immunity bit by bit, if I recall. He certainly didn't just… just down a whole bottle at once!"
Ron cleared his throat. "I have no idea what you two are talking about, but we should probably go check up on Harry."
America gasped in horror. "OMG, dude, that's right! You've never seen a movie, have you? Let me fill the void in your life!" And that was why, when the three of them arrived in the Hospital Wing, America was excitedly lecturing a spectacularly nonplussed Ron about all his favourite movies.
The whole Gryffindor Quidditch team was huddled around a bed, obscuring the occupant from view, though it was obviously Harry. Canada was there, too, standing slightly to the side. He waved at America as they entered. America advanced on him immediately. "Yo, Die Hard is totally a Christmas movie, right?"
Canada seemed rather caught off guard. "Eh, I… I don't… Why are you asking?"
America melodramatically clutched at his chest. "Et tu, Mattie?"
"Just ignore him," sighed Hermione. She turned to look at Harry. "How is he?"
"Well, he's breathing," said Angelina Johnson. "No idea when he'll wake up, though." America looked at Harry, too. His chest was indeed rising and falling rhythmically. He was still covered in mud, but he looked intact as far as America could tell.
Satisfied, he turned back to Canada. "So, Die Hard, Christmas movie, yes or no?"
Canada hugged his pet bear to his chest. "Um… well… I suppose that it does take place on Christmas… and it has a couple Christmas songs…"
America pumped his fist in the air. "YES! I knew you'd side with me, bro! See, Hermione? He agrees!"
Hermione was not amused. "Alfred, Harry nearly died. Would you mind postponing your movie debates?"
America sighed. "Fine, Debbie Downer. I'll just mope with the rest of you, then." He sat down on a neighbouring bed and put on his best mopey face. The others began whispering among themselves about how horrible it was that Harry had brushed against death yet again. Say what you would about him, the kid had a talent for attracting interesting events. America stayed out of the conversation. Now that he didn't have movie discussions to distract him, it seemed as though the Dementor-induced visions were taking effect. His mopey expression became a whole lot more authentic, though he still felt leagues better than he had last time. Canada was refraining from joining the conversation as well, and also looked rather depressed. Not too surprising. I'm sure he'll be fine, though. He dealt with it way better than I did last time.
A few minutes later, Professor Flitwick entered carrying a rather large bag in his tiny arms and looking rather grave. "We… found Mr. Potter's broomstick," he said, dropping it by Hermione's feet. America felt uneasy when he realized that there was no way an intact broom would fit into that bag. "I'm afraid that it had an unfortunate encounter with the Whomping Willow."
Hermione opened the bag, and her expression confirmed America's fears. "I-I see. Thank you, Professor." Professor Flitwick left, and the whispering started up again. Since nobody seemed keen on changing the subject, America tuned it out and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. I really shouldn't be feeling so un-upset, he thought to himself. I mean, I know I'm pretty shallow, but this is just… weird. Maybe it's just taking a while to really hit me? Maybe I'll start feeling like crying once Harry's done stealing all the attention again. Wait, what am I saying? Or thinking, or whatever! I should be feeling good about this, right? I faced down Dementors, and I don't feel like weeping like a baby-child! Cheer up, me! You've done way too much moping this year already! Everything's-
Right as he was getting to the good part of his internal pep-talk, Fred interrupted him. "Harry! How are you feeling?" America sat up. Harry's eyes had opened, though they seemed a bit unfocused and his expression was one of sleepy confusion.
Abruptly, his eyes widened and he sat up as well. "What happened?"
"You fell off," said Fred. "Must've been – what – fifty feet?"
"We thought you'd died," said Alicia, who was shaking. Hermione made a squeaking noise, and America noticed that her eyes were bloodshot. Wait, she was crying? When did that happen? I guess that's what I get for internally monologuing.
But Harry had far greater concerns than his own life. "But the match! What happened? Are we having a replay?" No one said anything. Harry's face crumpled. "We didn't – lose?"
"Diggory got the Snitch," said George. "Just after you fell. He didn't realise what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a re-match. But they won fair and square… even Wood admits it."
"Where is Wood?" asked Harry, looking around as if expecting him to jump out from under a hospital bed.
"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself." Harry curled up into a fetal position.
"Hey, don't worry about it, eh," said Canada, shaking his shoulder gently. "It… it's just a game. It doesn't really matter. Nobody's going to care in ten years whether or not you caught a Snitch when you were thirteen." The Quidditch players stared at him with expressions bordering on contempt. Canada sheepishly retreated as everyone started discussing the statistics of how much the other teams had to screw up in order for Gryffindor to pull through. America decided to simply observe and see how long they could keep it up. They were still going strong ten minutes later when Madam Pomfrey bustled in and told them to leave.
"We'll come see you later," said Fred to Harry. "Don't beat yourself up, Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had." The team trooped out, leaving America, Canada, Ron, and Hermione by Harry's side.
"So, uh, what exactly happened once the Dementors turned up, dudes?" asked America.
Hermione, as always, stepped up to the plate to explain. "Dumbledore was really angry. I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the pitch as you fell, Harry, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away… he was furious they'd come into the grounds, we heard him-"
"Then he magicked you onto a stretcher," said Ron. "And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were…" His voice faded away.
"Hey, come I didn't get a stretcher?" America demanded.
"We didn't fall fifty feet, Alfred," Canada pointed out.
"We tried to get Madam Pomfrey's attention, but she was too busy with Harry," said Hermione. "And… this has happened before, so we knew you'd wake up soon enough."
"So you decided to drag me along back to the castle?"
"Uh… yeah?" said Ron. He turned to Canada. "That reminds me, Matthew, how did you get here so fast?"
Canada fiddled with Kuma…whatever's fur nervously. "Oh, um, well, Ernie and Justin carried me back part of the way, and I guess I must have woken up sooner than Alfred did, so I was able to move faster?"
"Did someone get my Nimbus?" Harry asked suddenly.
"Yeah, uh, about that…" said America. "You might want to sit down." Harry gave him a look that pretty clearly said I'm already sitting down, you idiot. "It kind of, um… met the Whomping Willow." He got up and picked up the bag Professor Flitwick had dropped off. He opened it and looked inside. "Whoa, it looks like it went through a wood chipper, dude! How did that tree even do that?" He looked up to see Hermione and Ron glaring at him while Canada did a facepalm. "What?"
A/N: Hello, everyone. Long time no see. Sorry about that. Since these chapters are taking so long to come out, extra hugs for everyone! \(^-^)/ \(^-^)/ Thank you all for your support. It's rather funny how heartening it can be to receive praise from random strangers on the internet. Sorry about lying in the last chapter, but I found that I couldn't simply skip over this part. Also, am I the only who thinks Fred and George are way nicer to Harry than they are to Ron? Jeez, it seems like most of the Weasleys treat Harry better than Ron. No wonder he gets a chip on his shoulder. Anyway, no questions this time, so I'll just wrap this up. NEXT CHAPTER: England tries to enjoy a trip to Hogsmeade before the end of term. Tries to. See you all next time!