CHAPTER 10: I'VE SEEN DEAD PEOPLE
The rest of the visit with Hagrid was fairly uneventful. Canada apologized for America's insensitivity, they looked at the giant pumpkins Hagrid was growing, Ron threw up some more slugs, and they went back to the castle for lunch. As soon as they set foot in the Entrance Hall Professor McGonagall swooped down on Harry and Ron and began talking about detention. Canada and America slipped away and went into the Great Hall. Before they went to their separate tables, Canada grabbed America's arm. "I need to tell you something, eh," he whispered. "Meet me in the library after lunch."
America sighed dramatically. "Library, library, library, why don't you just marry those books already, dude?" Canada took this as an 'All right, I'll see you there' and let him go.
Canada finished his lunch faster than he usually did, due to not having to feed Kumajack. The little polar bear had climbed onto Fang's back to reach a low-hanging pheasant in Hagrid's house, so he wasn't hungry. Once he'd cleared his plate, Canada looked over at the Gryffindor table, where America, Harry, Ron and Hermione were all talking. Harry and Ron were both looking rather down, probably because of their impending punishment. Hermione had a well-you-did-break-school-rules expression on her face, and America looked as if he was trying to cheer them up. Hoping his brother would remember their agreement, Canada got up and started heading off to the library. It would be best if he could get the book he was looking for before America showed up.
He entered the library, nodding politely to Madam Pince, who ignored him as always. He headed over to the magical creatures section, scanning the shelves quickly for the book he was looking for. Really, any book would do, even Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which they already owned, but that one didn't have any pictures. Finally, Canada breathed a sigh of relief and pulled Thestrals: A Beginner's Guide down from the shelves. Technically the book was written for people who wished to raise Thestrals of their own, but it was a good source of knowledge about them from a writer not unfairly biased against them. They seemed to have a bad reputation in the wizarding world, though Canada couldn't really blame people for it.
He had just put Kumajello in a chair at a table and was just sitting down himself when America came into view. "Yo, Matt, 'sup?" He was being somewhat quieter than usual, thankfully, though still loud enough that Madam Pince would give him one of her withering glares if she'd heard it. America sat down across from Canada. "What'd you wanna talk to me about?"
Canada opened the book and started flipping through, looking for an illustration. As he did so, he said, "Do you remember those horse-like things that were pulling the carriages?" Kumagiggle yawned and curled up in his chair, preparing for a nap. Canada ignored him.
America shuddered. "How could I forget? They're giant freaky bat-horses! I can't believe no one else could see them."
"There's a good reason for that." Canada had found the page he was looking for and slid the book over to America. While America was looking at the full-page illustration, Canada explained, "They're called Thestrals, and they can only be seen by people who have seen someone die."
America shuddered again. "Creeeeepy. I guess that explains why most of the other kids couldn't see them. It'd be totally bad if they did." He paused, then brightened. "Harry should be able to see them, too, right? I mean, he saw his parents die."
Canada shook his head, taking the book back and rifling through the pages again. "No, I don't think he'd be able to. Here-" He read out a line from the book. "'Simply witnessing death may not be enough. In order to see a Thestral, one must fully come to terms with that person's death, and understand the concept.' Harry was just a baby when his parents were killed. He would've been too young to understand what was going on." He closed the book and continued, "I'm rather surprised they're pulling the school carriages. According to this book, they're hard to domesticate. The best way is to raise them from birth, get them used to humans… Hagrid's probably in charge of this herd. He named a three-headed dog Fluffy and tried to raise a dragon, he probably saw Thestrals as adorable little bunny rabbits. So, in conclusion, we are not crazy." He thought this statement over. "Well, not hallucinating scary-looking horses, anyway."
America let out a huge sigh of relief. "Whew. That's a relief. It was kinda freaky, not knowing what those things were. Thanks, bro! Is that all you wanted to talk about?"
Canada nodded. "You're welcome. And, yes, that's all. See you later." He got up and started to head over to the history section. He'd only gotten a few steps when America grabbed his shoulder.
"Oh, no you don't! You are not going to spend the first weekend of term in the library. I refuse!" America started dragging him towards the exit.
"Wha-but-Alfred, cut it out! Let me go! Kumagoogle! Help me!" Canada looked pleadingly at the bear. Kuma opened his eyes blearily, saw his master getting dragged away against his will, and went back to sleep. Canada's shoulders slumped. Not even his pet cared…
America dragged him all the way to the seventh floor, Canada complaining and pleading with him to release him all the way. Finally they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady that served as the entrance to the Gryffindor common-room. "Password?" she asked.
"WATTLEBIRD!" Canada couldn't help but think that America wasn't doing a good job of protecting his house's security. Judging from the Fat Lady's expression, she felt the same, and the two of them exchanged an understanding look before she swung open, revealing the Gryffindor common room. America let go of Canada, said in a very firm voice, "STAY!", and ran through the portrait hole.
The portrait shut again. "He's your brother, huh?" asked the Fat Lady.
Canada nodded. "Twin brother."
The Fat Lady clucked her tongue, shaking her head sadly. "Oh, you poor, poor boy… how have your eardrums survived?"
"I've been asking myself that question for years, eh." Canada thought he heard some shouting inside the common room, but it was all muffled. He stood in an awkward silence for a few moments before saying, "So… what's it like, being a portrait?"
The Fat Lady shrugged. "It's all right, I suppose. I don't really have anything else to compare it to. What's it like being a human?"
I'd tell you if I knew. Canada didn't say that out loud, instead opting for, "I suppose that's a good point. Sorry."
"Oh, no need to apologize." She tilted her head to the side as more shouting could be heard. "It sounds like your brother's coming back. Good luck." She swung open, and sure enough America reappeared, carrying a baseball bat, four baseball gloves, and a baseball, with Harry, Ron and Hermione in tow, the three of them looking very worried.
America grinned at Canada. "C'MON, BRO, WE'RE GONNA PLAY BASEBALL!" He set off, certain that his friends and brother would follow. They did, though not without reluctance.
They found a wide-open space in the grounds that was suitable for their purpose. While America ran around setting up large stones for bases, Canada, Harry and Hermione explained the rules of baseball to Ron, who was as clueless about the Muggle world as Harry had been about the magical world when he'd first started coming to Hogwarts. Ron was doubtful about quite a few things ("There's only one ball? Where's the fun in that?"), but by the time America yelled "I'M READY! LET'S GO, DUDES!" he seemed to understand the basic concept.
America slipped on his glove and started tossing the ball from hand to hand. "All right, dudes, everyone know how to play?" He barely waited for them all to nod before continuing. "GREAT! All right, I'll pitch first! Who wants to be on which team?"
Canada paled, remembering all the times his and America's games of catch had ended with broken bones. Canada's broken bones. Also, he could see a more major problem. "Um, Alfred, I hate to say it, but we don't really have enough people, eh."
"Huh?" America looked at the four of them and slapped his hand to his forehead. "Aw, crap! Sorry, dudes! Looks like we can't play the full version…" He tossed the ball up and down with one hand, his face screwed up in the effort of thinking. "Uh… okay, how about we just practice hitting the ball? That should be fun! I'll go first! Mattie, bro, throw it for me!" He threw the ball at Canada, way too fast for him to react. It hit him in the shoulder. He gasped in pain, rubbing the area that would almost certainly bruise.
"O-okay." He picked the ball up from the ground and glanced over at Harry, Ron and Hermione. "You'll probably want to stand back. Alfred hits pretty hard, eh." They all went back about twenty feet, looking at the two brothers somewhat nervously.
America was grinning in a way that never boded well. "C'MON, BRO, THROW IT!"
Canada tried his very best not to start trembling. He wasn't fully succeeding. "J-just make sure not to hit me, okay, Alfred?"
"Oh, ye of little faith." Canada didn't find this altogether comforting, but he took a deep breath and did his best pitch, dropping flat to the ground as soon as the ball left his hand. With an almighty BONK! America hit the ball with his bat, sending it soaring through the air. Canada got back up and followed the ball's flight. If they were playing an actual game, that would have been a home run. "AWW YEAH, HOME RUN!" America was ecstatic, doing a little happy dance.
Canada allowed himself a small, evil smile. "You realize you're going to have to get it back, right?"
America's face fell. "Dude, you suck."
They spent the entire afternoon playing. After Harry missed three pitches in a row (brilliant Seeker he may well be, but he would be a horrible Beater), America decided to serve as catcher. They eventually fell into a pattern; America was first, and managed to hit a home run every single time; then Harry went, and he missed the ball more often than not; then Hermione, who managed to hit the ball quite a bit, but it would usually be a rather weak hit that would probably result in her not making a single base; then Ron, who was without a doubt the worst, though he improved as the day went on; and then finally Canada, who would be replaced by Harry as pitcher (America tried the first time, but Canada had screamed and run away before the ball left his hand). He wasn't as good as America (he much preferred hockey or lacrosse to baseball), but he liked to think that he did fairly well.
By the time it was time for dinner, they were all rather sweaty and worn-out, but smiling. Canada admitted within the privacy of his own head that it had been more fun than the library probably would have been. They made their way back to the castle, Ron blabbering on about how America should join the Gryffindor team as a Beater once Fred and George graduated. He knew that America had made sure to bring back all their stuff, but Canada couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something…
That feeling was answered when they stepped into the Entrance Hall and found a group of students clustered around a small white bear. They all seemed to be either girls or embarrassed-looking first-year boys. Canada breathed a sigh of relief and waved at Kumageography. The bear stared at him blankly for a few moments before turning his attention to a pretty third-year Ravenclaw girl stroking his head. Canada breathed an entirely different kind of sigh and trudged into the Great Hall. Some friend he is.
As it turned out, he didn't have to mope for long, because a few minutes later Kumagaga entered the Great Hall and went over to where Canada sat at the Hufflepuff table, saying, "Who are you?"
Canada smiled at him. "I'm Matthew."
"Matthew. Give me food. I'm hungry." Canada was too happy to have him back to feel angry about how his pet seemed to only like him when he was hungry.
A/N: HUGS FOR EVERYONE! \(^-^)/ I've just realized this chapter did literally NOTHING to advance the plot. Ah, well, I'm the author, I do what I want! Not many questions this time, so short Author's Notes, I guess. To olivia71295: I'm glad you appreciate it! And, yeah, if Prussia shows up, he and Canada are going to talk, about syrup if nothing else. They talked a bit during France's Christmas party in the last fic, so feel free to re-read that as much as you want! To alovinggirl: You might be thinking of the movie version, where Hermione already knows what the word means and is the one to explain it. This fic is based entirely on the book. And, yeah, sure, let's go with that explanation! You don't mess with the Kirklands, else they come for you in their thick-eyebrowed drunken rage! Speaking of which, I need to figure out the human names of Scotland, Wales, Ireland and Northern Ireland. I'm thinking Alistair for Scotland and Patrick for Northern Ireland, since those are the names I've seen the most for them. Maybe Dylan for Wales? I've seen that used a bit. And for Republic of Ireland (who is going to be female in this story, because why not?) I really can't decide. I've seen so many different names used for her! Erin is the most obvious choice to me (it basically just means Ireland), but judging from the trend of naming the Nations after well-known figures from their history/mythology, maybe Grainne or Aoife or something... GAH, I CAN'T CHOOSE! It really doesn't matter that much, since I'm not planning on bringing any of them in until later books, but it would be nice to be able to know the names in case I need to have someone mention them in conversation. So much for the short Author's Notes. NEXT CHAPTER: America reads a book. Cue the apocalypse. See you all next time!