CHAPTER 32: CORNELIUS FUDGE SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD DESSERT NAME
"All students will return to their house common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."
The Hufflepuffs packed in the common room were silent as Professor Sprout read out the official-looking piece of parchment she was holding. She rolled it up and added, sounding distressed, "I realize that these new rules might seem draconian, but we only want to protect you. This is perhaps the most danger Hogwarts has ever faced. If these attacks are not stopped, the school might very well be closed. If anyone knows anything that might help, please tell one of the faculty."
Canada was barely paying attention as she made her way out of the common room. He was sitting in a chair in the corner, hugging Kumajiggle tightly. It was hard to believe that just this morning he had been solely focused on something as unimportant as a sporting match. The rest of the Hufflepuffs began talking amongst themselves, speculating about who the Heir of Slytherin could be and what monster they could be unleashing upon the Muggle-borns of the school. It was clear that none of them wanted to see the school closed.
Canada couldn't join in on their discussions, and this time it wasn't just because any contribution he made would go unnoticed. He was still haunted by the image of Hermione lying in the hospital wing, looking so very much like a corpse. It brought up a lot of unpleasant memories that he usually tried to ignore. And judging from America's expression when he saw Hermione, he was feeling the same way. Sometimes it was frustrating being in a different House, unable to interact with his brother or friends as much as he'd like to.
He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice someone sit down next to him and say, "Are you okay, Matthew?" For once it was Canada jumping and looking around for the person he hadn't seen. It was a very worried-looking Hannah.
He tried his best to smile and said, "Yeah, I'm fine, eh." Even as the words came out he knew that they wouldn't fool even a three-year-old.
Unsurprisingly, Hannah wasn't convinced. "Are you sure? I know you were friends. This must be really hard for you." Canada avoided her gaze, looking down at the wooden floor, and tried to exude an aura of 'please leave'. He heard Hannah sigh, and felt her place a hand on his arm. "Well… if you want to talk about it, I'd be willing to listen." Then the hand was gone, and he sensed more than saw her get up and go back to the crowd of speculating Hufflepuffs.
Canada appreciated the offer, but he highly doubted he would take it. What was he supposed to say? 'Yeah, seeing her like that reminded me of all the other dead people I've seen. Especially on battlefields. Did I mention that I've fought in a bunch of wars? Well, I have. In fact, I'm the personification of Canada. Surprise!' No, he couldn't talk to any human about this. The only person he felt he could talk to was America, and he was all the way up in Gryffindor Tower.
The noise level seemed to increase, and Canada couldn't take it anymore. The Hufflepuff Basement usually felt so comforting, with all its plant-life and burnished copper and round doors. It felt like living in a hobbit-hole. But tonight all it did was make him feel alone, separate from all his house-mates. He felt suffocated. He needed to get out. He realized that it was against the rules, but he knew that nobody would notice him leave anyway.
He got up, still carrying Kumajackal, and walked out. Nobody noticed, just as he thought. Once he was through the barrel-hole, he felt a bit lost. What should he do now? Just stand here? No, he felt that movement might help him work through all these feelings at the moment. So he set off in no particular direction, trying to be as invisible as possible.
The halls of the school were the most crowded Canada had ever seen. Teachers, prefects and ghosts were marching through the corridors like they were soldiers on patrol. Luckily, they hadn't received any proper military training, so they weren't exactly the best at it. Combined with Canada's natural invisibility, he made his way to the Entrance Hall without incident. It was only there that he actually encountered incident.
"Sorry!" he gasped as he bumped into something. He clapped a hand over his mouth as he realized his mistake.
"C- Matthew? What are you doing here, bro?" Something shifted in the air before him, and America, Harry and Ron became visible. Ah. They must be using the Invisibility Cloak.
"I was just taking a walk to clear my head, eh," whispered Canada. "What are you three doing here?"
"We're going to talk to Hagrid," whispered Harry. "He must know something." He gestured to the cloak. "Come on, we've got room. I can't believe you haven't been caught already, all the teachers and prefects around…" Canada slipped under the Invisibility Cloak with the rest of them, relieved to have a guarantee of invisibility. His own seemed a bit temperamental, with a tendency to fail at inconvenient times.
It was his first time underneath the Invisibility Cloak. There was only room for four of them, and last year Hermione had taken up that fourth slot. With her out of commission, it seemed Canada had been upgraded. It wasn't the most comfortable experience. He had to constantly check to make sure he wouldn't trip over the others' feet, and Ron was one of the best friends he could have ever asked for, but his breath left much to be desired smell-wise. Still, they managed to make their way out of the castle and to Hagrid's house without anyone tripping. It was only once they were literally on his doorstep that they took the cloak off. Canada couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Hermione could keep her spot under the cloak indefinitely, as far as he was concerned.
It was only seconds after they knocked that Hagrid flung it open. Canada was a bit surprised to find a crossbow pointed at them. Despite his frightening appearance, Hagrid was probably the last person Canada expect to be pointing a weapon at him. Also, it had been centuries since the crossbow was a popular weapon. Seeing one now made him a bit nostalgic, actually. It was nice to see wizards respecting the classics.
"Oh," said Hagrid, lowering the weapon and staring at them. "What're you four doin' here?"
"Uh, dude, why do you have a crossbow?" said America, pointing at it as they stepped inside.
"Nothin'… nothin'," Hagrid muttered. "I've bin expectin'… doesn' matter… Sit down… I'll make tea…"
After seeing the man nearly extinguish the fire with spilled water from the kettle, Canada got up and helped him. He seemed grateful for the help. "Are you okay, Hagrid?" said Harry. "Did you hear about Hermione?"
"Oh, I heard, all righ'," said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice. Canada knew that there was more to Hagrid's strange behaviour than sadness over Hermione, however. He kept glancing nervously at the windows like a Resident Evil player, and would have given them all mugs of boiling water if Canada hadn't noticed and dropped in the tea bags. Something was definitely wrong. He was just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate when there was a loud knock at the door. Ah. He was expecting someone. Not someone friendly, if the crossbow was anything to judge by…
Hagrid dropped the fruitcake. Harry and Ron seemed to realize how bad the situation was and threw the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves and America. Canada rushed over to join them and they all backed into the corner. Hagrid looked around, making sure they were hidden, and flung open his door once more.
"Good evening, Hagrid," said Dumbledore. For a moment Canada was very confused. It was just Dumbledore? Why would Hagrid be so nervous about Dumbledore coming? He practically worshipped the ground the headmaster walked on. Then Canada saw the person who entered behind him.
He pre-emptively clapped a hand over America's mouth to muffle his laughter. The man following Dumbledore was dressed very strangely, even by wizard standards. A pin-striped suit, scarlet tie, long black cloak, purple shoes… oh, and a lime green bowler hat carried under one arm. Apart from that, he was a short portly man with rumpled grey hair and an anxious expression.
"That's Dad's boss!" Ron breathed, and Canada had to struggle not to gag at the smell. "Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!" Harry elbowed him hard to make him shut up. America tried to say something, and Canada did the same thing Harry had.
Hagrid had gone pale and sweaty. He dropped into one of his chairs and looked from Dumbledore to Cornelius Fudge. "Bad business, Hagrid," said Fudge, in rather clipped tones. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Mugle-borns. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."
The conversation that followed was… distressing, to say the least. At first it wasn't too bad – Fudge seemed almost apologetic, and Dumbledore was disapproving. It seemed that Hagrid was going to be sent to Azkaban, the wizard prison. Then a blond man who could only be Lucius Malfoy entered and the whole thing went downhill. In addition to Hagrid being incarcerated, it seemed that Dumbledore was now suspended. Canada had to physically restrain America from running out and probably punching the Minister of Magic and a school governor in the face. That might lead to trouble.
Finally, just before he was led away, Hagrid took a deep breath and said carefully, "If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the spiders. That'd lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'." Fudge seemed confused, but Canada understood. Follow the spiders for answers. Understood. Thank you, Hagrid.
The door banged shut and Ron pulled the Invisibility Cloak off. "We're in trouble now," he said hoarsely. "No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight. There'll be an attack a day with him gone."
America finally managed to wrench himself free of Canada, rubbing his arms where they'd been pinned to his sides. He glared at his brother. "What the hell, bro? I totally could have stopped them!"
"That was the Minister of Magic and a school governor," said Canada. "Punching them in the face would just cause even more trouble."
America let out a strangled yell and punched the wall. His fist went straight through as if it were balsa wood. Canada sighed, quickly repairing it with his wand. Sadly, he didn't notice the significant look Harry and Ron exchanged. If he had, he might have been able to come up with an excuse and saved everyone a lot of trouble down the road. But he didn't, and even if he had, it probably wouldn't have helped.
A/N: Once again, this chapter took a little while. But it's done now, so yay! Hugs for everyone! \(^-^)/ Moving on to Q&A! To TheChibitalian: 10 out of 10. That is the most horrifying thing I have ever heard. To SilentMoonlace13: OMNOMNOMNOMNOM! And I say nothing except MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! To Berlin: Aww, thanks! And Alfred isn't exactly the most bookish person, so he probably doesn't even know basilisks are a real thing. To Serebiiet: Thanks for all the great reviews! I feel like it would be too much to answer all of them, so I'll just go with the one that seemed the most like a question. It's a bit hard to include Canada, what with him being in a different House, but I feel that he's an important character. He's going to play a pretty big part in the climax of this book, and I won't say anything more than that. NEXT CHAPTER: America and friends meet the delight that is Aragog. See you all next time!