CHAPTER 40: BORED NOW

Kumajiro wasn't a happy bear. He wasn't used to being separated from his master like this. Sure, he'd gone off on his own plenty of times, especially to the kitchens, where the little big-eyed people always liked to pet him and give him treats. But what's-his-name had always been there for him to return to at any time. Now, it seemed that if Kumajiro did nothing, he might never be able to return to his master again. The very thought of it brought a growl to his throat.

When he'd first woken up in the sleepy room and found his master absent, he hadn't been worried. Then he'd followed his scent and found that it led to a dead end. A dead end that stank of snake. So he'd gone off to look for what's-his-name's brother and found him marching towards the snake-smelling room. It was only then that Kumajiro learned exactly what had happened, and he and the southern country immediately joined forces to find what's-his-name. Then the brightly coloured human that smelled of hair-gel, the red-furred human with the funny-smelling rat, and the lightning-marked human had joined in.

They'd started following the trail of what's-his-name and the red-furred one's sister, but the hair-gel human had turned on them and tried to do something with a broken stick. Whatever it was obviously went wrong, because the whole chamber had begun to shake and rocks fell from the ceiling. Kumajiro and the lightning-marked human couldn't go back where they'd come from, and the others couldn't move forward. So the human and bear had begun to make their way through the dark, damp tunnel.

The lightning-marked human looked down at him. "So… you can talk?" he asked.

Kumajiro nodded. "Yes. That question would have been rather pointless if I couldn't, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose so…" They lapsed into silence for a few moments, the only sounds being their footsteps and dripping water. "Er, I don't suppose you'd tell me why you can talk?" the human eventually asked.

Kumajiro thought over his response. He wasn't entirely sure of the answer himself. All he knew was that when a being like his master bonded with an animal, that animal often gained their master's immortality, and sometimes even the power of speech. At the very least they were all more intelligent than others of their kind. But Kumajiro had always had the feeling that humans weren't supposed to know about his master's kind. "What's-his-name, that's why," he said simply.

"You mean Matthew?" said the lightning-marked one. "You mean he cast a spell on you or something?"

Kumajiro shrugged. It had taken centuries of practice, but nowadays he could mimic human gestures such as that. "Something like that. I don't really understand it." The bear stopped, letting out a frustrated growl. They'd reached another dead end. Two fake snakes were on the wall before him. A wall that stank of what's-his-name. "They're through there. Make your snake noise."

The human complied, letting out a hiss that made Kumajiro's fur stand on end. It seemed to work, since the wall cracked open and slid aside. Kumajiro's nostrils were immediately filled with the smell of his master. He squeezed through the opening as soon as it was large enough to permit his small bulk. He really should have taken in his surroundings at this point, but all his attention was taken by the sight of what's-his-name, clearly alive and well enough to stand.

"Who are you?!" the bear called out, running towards him as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.

"I'm C- wait, Kumajorgan?!" The nation turned away from whatever he'd been looking at to face Kumajiro. His face broke into one of the most relieved smiles Kumajiro had ever seen on it. "Kumajenga!" The two of them ran towards each other, and in less than a minute Kumajiro was back in his master's arms, being hugged just slightly too tightly for comfort, not that he minded.

"Matthew! You're alive!" The lightning-marked one's footsteps could be heard pounding against the stone floor as he ran towards them.

What's-his-name let out a shaky laugh. "Somehow managed it, eh." His expression and tone became much more serious as he added, "You… probably shouldn't have come."

"What do you mean?" asked the lightning-marked one. "Where's Ginny? Is she…" His voice trailed off, apparently unable bring himself to finish that sentence.

What's-his-name took a step to the side and said sadly, "Not yet, but… I don't think she has much longer."

"Ginny!" The lightning-marked one ran towards something Kumajiro couldn't see from his current position. What's-his-name's chest was in the way. But he was smart enough to guess that it was the little red-furred female. "Ginny, come on… please wake up…"

"She won't wake," said a soft voice.

Kumajiro twisted in What's-his-name's arms and the nation dropped him to the ground. Some…thing was leaning against the nearest stone-tree-thing. It looked like a black-furred human male, but it was fuzzy around the edges, and it had no smell. Nothing didn't have a smell. Nothing natural, anyway. Letting out his best roar (which wasn't very good, he still had the body of a cub), he charged at it. He ended up going straight through it and bumping his head on the stone-tree-thing. Despite the fact that his head was ringing and he was seeing stars, Kumajiro tried his best to figure out what this thing was. It wasn't one of the floaty-dead-cloud-things – it wasn't pale enough, and it hadn't been cold enough when he went through it. And it had offered resistance, like he was trying to wade through thick mud. The bear stumbled back to his master, head still spinning.

"I was wondering when you'd turn up again, eh," said What's-his-name.

"Tom – Tom Riddle?" gasped the lightning-marked one. The thing nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face. "What d'you mean, she won't wake? What's wrong with her?"

"Him. That's what's wrong with her," said What's-his-name, pointing at the thing. "Ever since we arrived she's been getting weaker and weaker, and he'd been getting more and more solid. I think he's draining her life-force or something."

"What?!" The lightning-marked one seemed shocked by this. "How? And shouldn't he be older? He looked like that fifty years ago." He turned to stare at the thing while What's-his-name shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Are you a ghost?"

"A memory," said the thing quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

"You should probably feel honored," said What's-his-name sarcastically. "That's a better answer than I've gotten from him for hours." He glared at the thing. "I'm guessing Harry's the 'guest of honour', eh. Will you explain what's going on now? It looks like it's time for your villainous monologue."

"I am not a villain," said the thing reproachfully (What's-his-name rolled his eyes at that). "But the time has come for you to know the truth."

What's-his-name hadn't been kidding about the whole 'villainous monologue' thing. Well, that wasn't entirely sure. Kumajiro was pretty sure 'monologue' was when only one person talked. The lightning-marked one often interrupted. Whatever sort of logue it was, it went on for far too long and Kumajiro didn't care much in the first place, so he got bored and went over to investigate the little red-furred female. Her skin was as pale as snow, and when the bear pressed his nose against her skin he found it was almost as cold. He pressed his ear to his chest and could just barely hear a heartbeat. Deciding she could use a bit of warmth, he curled up next to her and waited for the thing to say something interesting.

It never happened. What finally caught Kumajiro's attention was birdsong. Oh, good, I was getting hungry. As the song swelled, however, he realized that this wasn't the kind of bird that made a good snack. The song was too eerie and unnatural. It made his fur stand on end just listening to it. Just as it reached a pitch that made it feel like his ribs were vibrating, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar. A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle. Definitely not a snack, then. The bird flew straight at the lightning-marked one and dropped whatever it had been carrying at his feet, then landed on his shoulder. It stopped singing and merely glared at the thing.

"That's a phoenix…" said the thing and What's-his-name at the same time. They both looked at each other in surprise and disgust, apparently both shocked and appalled that they'd thought the same thing.

"Fawkes?" breathed the lightning-marked one.

"And that-" said the thing, now eyeing the ragged thing that the firebird had dropped. "That's the old school Sorting Hat." Kumajiro had no idea what that meant. It just looked like a ratty old hat. It didn't seem like it would be much help. The thing apparently had similar thoughts, laughing. "This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?" Then he started being boring again and Kumajiro went back to trying to warm up the little red-furred one.

It didn't take nearly as long as last time for something interesting to happen, unfortunately. Very, very unfortunately.

A/N: Sorry this took longer than expected. Rather than write like I should have, I spent yesterday listening to dramatic readings of really bad fanfiction. I'm sorry. I could claim I was doing research on how not to write fanfic, but I wasn't. It was just really funny. And technically Harry won the poll, but as I thought about it I really liked the idea of doing the chapter from Kuma's POV, and we already have Harry's from the book, so yeah. And now for Q&A! To RussianMochi: Huh. Interesting thought. She would know everything going on... Would she be the nations' great-great-great-lots-of-greats-grandmother, then? Well, Poland would probably like phoenixes. "OMG you are, like, so totally bright and colourful and cute!" Feel free to use the names! Pretty much the only one I didn't steal from other fics was Erin, so it's not like you really need to ask permission for most of them. To Berlin: Yay, you're back! I was wondering where you'd gone. Bringing in 2p's seems like a lot of hassle, but I might surprise myself later, who knows. Gelato, hot dogs, noon, and symmetry. I really like symmetry. A lot of times if I do something with one hand I'll do it with the other because I feel like they need to be balanced. To Legend of Zelda Fangirl: He'd probably use Gilbird, and I got no idea what the letter would be about. Maple syrup, maybe? I probably relate with Hermione for Harry Potter and... uh... Canada for Hetalia, I guess? We'll see what nickname America comes up with when we get there. To Marzue: I think that's the first bit of criticism this fic has received! Yay! But, yeah, writing Voldemort is hard. He's just so absolutely full of himself, and not in an awesome Prussian way. To SilentMoonLace13: OMNOMNOMNOMNOM! Oh, God... um... the power to fix every problem in the universe ever? That seems like a good power to create. To SoulxMakaLover37: I'd run to Hungary and have her protect me with her mighty skillet. Yes, yes they are. To Random Qustion: Blue. The gargantuan Author's Notes seem to have returned... ah, well. Pages Left: 17. NEXT CHAPTER: Canada, Harry and Kumajiro fight the Basilisk. See you all next time!