Harry clapped a hand to his mouth in horror when Matthew got hit by the spell, right in the chest. "Matthew!" he heard Hermione shriek and he felt her brush past him as she hurried over to Matthew. But then, she stopped. Because Matthew wasn't lying on the ground. He was still standing upright.
And he looked furious.
Harry recognized the aura around his housemate's brother. Mrs. Figg's best friend had that same aura when a guy name Daniel broke the heels of her shoes. The aura had a name- Canadian Rage.
Matthew raised the hockey stick her was holding and charged at Professor Quirrell, Alfred leaping out of the way just in time as the hockey stick smashed down onto Quirrell's hip. The man shrieked in pain, and Harry heard Professor Flitwick yelling, "That's quite enough!"
The students knew how to deal with furious teacher- look at your feet in shame, or even start crying.
But the teachers did not know how to deal with a furious-possibly murderous-student who wielded a hockey stick extremely well.
Harry was too stunned to move as he watched Matthew, his face black with rage, take another swing at Quirrell. There was a loud crack! as the hockey stick landed on Quirrel's wrist, easily snapping it.
But Matthew wasn't done yet.
Whack!
Snap!
Whack!
Snap!
Canada grinned as he heard the satisfying crack of the evil professor's bones. He deserved it- attacking poor, innocent Kumakari! Kuma didn't do anything wrong, yet the cruel teacher had tried to kill the adorable black ice-cream-loving polar bear! He deserved to be exterminated!
Suddenly, when he tried to take another swing at the appalled, injured teacher, he found that he couldn't. Someone was holding him back. He twisted his head to see who it was, violet eyes furious, but they calmed down when they met the soothing ocean in Norway's eyes and the mischievous fire in Romania.
"Not now, Canada," Romania soothed, patting the nation's back. The two countries let go to the now-calm nation and, before Canada's knees gave way, he found himself embraced again.
"Mathieu, I am sure Quirrell meant no harm to him," France murmured.
"Papa... Je suis désolé..."
There was another loud crack and Canada winced- America had decided to 'put Quirrell out of his misery' and knock him out by whacking him with a heavy-looking leather bound book. The blonde felt something push his leg and he looked down. He was rapidly fading.
"Kuma, are you okay? I didn't mean to throw you," he murmured to the fluffy white polar bear, who gave him the polar bear-version of a smile. "I'm hungry," he said, and Kumakari echoed with an, "I'm hungry, too."
Canada smiled at the two and, with France's help, stood up, apologized profusely to the teachers (his face was completely red, not that anyone noticed. The teachers found it weird that thin air was apologizing to them) and led the two polar bears to the kitchen. The Weasley twins had told Alfred how to get into the kitchen, and Alfred had told Canada.
"Sir! How may we be of service?" a house elf squeaked.
"Do you have some ice cream? And pancakes?" Canada asked.
"We will bring it to you as fast as we can, sir!"
A few seconds later, the house-elf appeared again with a bowl of vanilla ice cream and a plate of warm pancakes with maple syrup. Canada smiled at the house elf before giving the food to the two Kumas.
Why did Vladimir call Matthew 'Canada'? And why was that polar bear thing black? And why did Matthew call Francis his 'papa'? Why did those two guys, Allen and Matt, appear anyways? And how did they do it? And why did they look like the older versions of Matthew and Alfred? And where did they take Phoenix? And if they were twins, why were they trying to injured each other? And where's Oliver?
Hermione bombarded herself with questions as she watched the Canadian boy walk away. The new students were suspicious. I mean, they're stereotypes of the country they come from! Seriously! Well, except Oliver and Phoenix. Oliver is the exact opposite of Arthur! That's so weird!
Suddenly, the brunette realized something. "Allen called Oliver the 'crazy cupcake man'. Man. Not boy. Man!" she muttered to herself. So weird... I have to tell Harry and Ron!
She thought back to the howler Alfred's 'friends' had sent. Come to think of it, there's someone who called the man who first spoke 'Korea', and later two people called the other 'Belgium' and 'Liechtenstein'. Belgium is a European country, isn't it? And Liechtenstein seems too long to be a name... So, if I'm right, Liechtenstein must be the name of another country!
And 'Ladonia' seems like a weird name... What is a ladonia anyways? If those people are named after countries then Ladonia must be a country too! I should check the world map later...
The next day, Oliver Kirkland came back, covered in blood. Of Singa, there was no sign. And Hermione? Still as suspicious as ever.
She checked the globe the day before. Liechtenstein and Belgium were indeed countries, but 'Ladonia' was not. She still had a lot of research to do.
At three thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns towards a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounes to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.
The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty or so broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had heard Fred and George complain about the school brooms, saying that some if them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.
Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived, She had short gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she barked.
"THE HERO!" Alfred screeched, dashing into the lawn suddenly, panting hard. A few students sniggered, and Arthur Kirkland slapped the back of Alfred's head.
Madam Hooch sighed, "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"
"UP!' everyone shouted.
Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. The others included Alfred, Arthur, Lukas Bondevik and Oliver Kirkland from Slytherin and Tino. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, though Harry; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.
Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. When she approached Arthur, she found no faults and simply gave him a brief nod. Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been gripping the broom wrongly for years.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "keep your brooms steady, rise a few fet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle- three- two-"
But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed of hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips. "Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle- twelve feet, twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and-
WHAM.
A thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay... not facedown on the grass in a heap, but on... Alfred?
When Alfred saw the boy falling, he couldn't do nothing. That was what heroes were for- to save people from injury! He was fast- he could make it in time! He breathed in and rushed towards the spot where Neville would land... threw up his arms... braced for the impact...
WHAM.
Woah, Alfred though dizzily, his whole body numb. This Neville boy is really heavy!
Madam Hooch bent over Neville and Alfred, her face as white as the plumper boy's. "Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy- it's all right, up you get." She spun to face a dazed Alfred. "AND YOU!" she thundered, her eyes flashing. "RISKING YOURSELF LIKE THAT! YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN SERIOUSLY INJURED!"
Alfred grinned, his face pale. "I'm alright," he said dazedly.
"Hmph. You are a foolish boy, yes, but you are brave. None of you is to move while I take these two boys to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'!" she said to the rest of the classes.
"The Hero doesn't need to go to the hos-"
"Yes, you do. Come with me, dear."
Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch who had one arm around him and her hand gripping Alfred's arm firmly. No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"
The other Slytherins joined in... all except Oliver, who was grinning wickedly (like usual) and Lukas, who was, for once, looking angry.
"Shut up, Draco!" Tino shouted just as Parvati Patil snapped, "Shut up, Malfoy!"
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" mocked Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."
"Look!" crowed Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him!" The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.
Tino looked like he wanted to intervene, and so did Arthur, but Lukas held them back, speaking to them softly. So Lukas was sticking up for Malfoy, huh? Oliver was just standing there, his eyes sparkling wickedly.
"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.
Malfoy smiled nastily.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find- how about- up a tree?"
"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak, he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"
Harry grabbed his broom, ignoring Hermione Granger as she tried to stop him. Blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground. Just before he soared up, up, into the air, he heard Lukas Bondevik whisper, "Look."
Air rushed through Harry's hair, and his robes whipped out behind him- and in a rush of fierce joy he realized he'd found something he could do without being taught- this was easy, this was wonderful. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it a little higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground, and an admiring whoop from Ron.
He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. It gave him satisfaction to see Malfoy's stunned face.
"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"
"Oh yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looked worried.
Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot towards Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry maxe a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.
"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry taunted his rival.
The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.
"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back towards the ground.
Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to dall. He leaned forward and pointes his broom handle down- next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball- wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching- he stretched out his hand- a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.
"HARRY POTTER!"
His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them.
*flashback- before Harry and Malfoy had a showdown*
Minerva McGonagall was writing in a notebook Albus had given her again. She had placed a tracking charm on the new transfers-even Phoenix, who had suddenly disappeared (but she hadn't recorded hers yet)-and she was recording their actions. She had finished writing some of the records of some of the Gryffindor and Slytherin transfers. The records were written two days ago. Minerva read through Alfred's record.
Name: Alfred F Jones
What country is he from? America
Wakes up at 6:30 am. Bothers Arthur Kirkland until he wakes up. Goes down to the kitchen-how did he find it?-before breakfast to eat hamburgers. During breakfast, he eats a ton despite having stuffed himself silly. Calls himself the 'Hero'. Always seems to forget his brother.
Lessons- History of Magic (8am to 9am): Skips it completely. Is afraid of ghosts, which is normal, but no other students have reacted like him. It is unknown where he went. Probably the kitchen.
Charms (9am to 10am): Comes in late, panting. Pairs up with Arthur, who scolds him. Nothing unusual happened.
Herbology (10am to 11am): Groups up with Phoenix (girl who disappeared) and his brother. Can't seem to remember his brothers' names. I can't, either (The last part was a side note from Albus Dumbledore)
~Lunch Break~
Transfiguration: Completely fails in Tramsfiguration, though he tries hard.
Alfred F Jones skips the rest of his lessons to go walk near the lake and shows up for dinner.
Minerva sighed, and was about to read the next one when she suddenly noticed someone. Harry Potter! And he was flying a broom... with such skill. One thought pushed itself into Minerva McGonagall's stern mind- Quidditch.
*time skip to dinner!*
"Woah, dude, you really did that?" Alfred, who was seemingly unhurt, yelled excitedly. "AWESOME! YOU ARE WORTHY TO BE MY SIDEKICK!"
Harry rubbed his ear, already regretting telling Alfred about what had happened after he had been dragged to the hospital wing.
OMG I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT HAVING UPDATED FOR SO SO
SO SO SO SO SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
LONG! I HOPE YOU LIKED IT! YOU CAN HATE ME AS MUCH AS YOU WANT, I
DESERVE IT QAQ
I'M SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!
P.S. Please review! ;)