Tale of the New World Twins

Canadians and Hockey (A Short Bonus Chapter)

“We didn’t get gold in Vancouver for nothing, eh.”

It was early the Christmas Eve and some of the Slytherin seniors had decided that they would challenge the foreigners to a little game of Hockey.

Not being completely cruel, and looking for any opportunity to show the snakes up, some Gryffindor senior’s offered to join their team but they politely rejected.

“I don’t need anyone but Mathew to cause some emergency room visits” Alfred had commented.

So two hours later his statement had been proven true.

With a victory of 50-1, two broken legs, one broken nose, one full body cast, three cowering seniors and fifteen points missing from Gryffindor thanks to his adamant cursing.

True Alfred himself was quite good, his team had medled during the Olympics, but when you’re playing with Canada it’s best to just stay out of the way.

Once all was said and done, Canada looked at all the shocked faces around him.

“What?” he said defensively, and then pointed at America.

“He’s just as bad with Baseball and American Football.”

“No dude” Alfred answered, “no one is that bad with anything”.

“Do you not remember that time you sent me to the hospital for hitting me so many time with the baseball, eh”

“That was one time”

“That Happened Seven Times Alfred! Seven!”

“Well it’s not my fault you can’t catch”.

The crowd watched the tennis match of accusations between the brothers.

Apparently the stereotype of Canadians getting obsessed with Hockey was true.

And the one about Americans and Baseball.

And American with football.

And about ten million other stereotypes.

Before the fight could escalate, Snape stepped out of the building and surveyed the area, seeing the shattered hockey sticks and slightly red tinted ice.

Then like he guessed it would be, he saw the sources of his sudden new investment in headache medicine standing in the centre of it all arguing.

“Mr. Jones, Mr. Williams” he screeched.

The two stopped their arguing and turned.

“He did it” they said pointing to each other.

Snape sighed but continued.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, and come to my office immediately!”

“But don’t we have to clean up first?” politely asked the slightly red faced Canadian.

“The rest of the people here can handle it, my office now”.

So the two trudged like a prisoner to his noose.

When they had reached Snapes classroom they stepped inside and the teacher slammed the door shut.

He looked at one, then the other, then back again.

Silently he pulled up his chair behind his desk and sat in it.

He had no idea what to say, he just needed answers.

Those two brats had actually made him question his sanity on multiple occasions.

“Do you know the rise in the amount of headache medicine I’ve had to take since you arrived?”

“Ninety four” chirped Alfred, purposely missing the man’s implication.

Mathew hit his brother sharply on the arm and sent him a look that clearly said ‘this is not the time to play dumb’.

Snape also noticed this look.

He did much prefer the Violet Eyed brother.

“No Mr. Jones it is not ninety four. Look what happened out there and why am I getting reports that there are four seniors currently in the nurse’s office, and another six who might need psychological care?”

“They challenged us to Hockey” answered Mathew respectfully.

“And how did you two manage to beat and take down ten Sytherin seniors.

“He’s Canadian” stated Alfred nonchalantly, as if that explained everything.

It was taking everything in his power not to run next door and find some acid to pour on the American’s head.

“What I think he means to say” Mathew corrected quickly. “Is that in Canada I was on a travel contact Hockey team so I got really good, like he is with Baseball and Football.”

“Football?” Snape questioned, a sport of precision and timing did not seen like something he would have an interest in.

“Yeah dude, it’s like the most American sport there is”

“Didn’t football originate in Europe” Snape asked.

“Oh you’re thinking of soccer, I mean real Football.”

That explained everything.

Of course he would play that American game of who could put the other in a coma first.

Similar to Draco, the two had become his vain of existence.

It used to be Potter, all be it for different reasons, but now he just wants the foreigners to go away.

He leaned his arm against the table and sighed exasperatingly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Just go” he said pointing to the exit.

Not taking a second to think about, the nations scrambled out the door and up the stairs to the common room and closing the painting behind them.

“So dude, wanna play some baseball”

“No America, I do not”.