Harry Goes To Canada

Harry Potter woke up. His head was hurting in the worst way, and the floor was hard. He opened a bleary eye, his glasses were on. He sat up and surveyed the scene before him. He was in a building with windows all around, except for one wall, where there was a long counter. Signs were hanging from the ceiling. One depicted a round ball wearing a lacy Dutch hat, another of muffin called a "Fruit Explosion". Behind the counter was an endless supply of donuts, muffins, bagels and little balls of different shades of brown. The building was filled with plastic tables and chairs. Harry figured it was some sort of restaurant.

The door opened and a man in beige pants and a visor walked in. He was about to go behind the counter when he noticed Harry on the floor.

"Oh!" he said in surprise, "Who're you?"

"Harry Potter," Harry replied.

"Whatcha doin' here? I know some people like to get their coffee real early but no one's never camped out before," the man said. Harry couldn't quite put his finger on the accent.

"I... I don't know," Harry said. "I just woke up here."

"Well where'd ya fall asleep at? That may explain you wakin' up here."

"I don't know that either," said Harry, holding his head.

'You're British, eh?" said the man. Canadian, thought Harry. Canadians say "eh".

"Yes, Harry said, getting to his feet, "and I don't know where I am."

"I can tell ya that much," the man said. "Yer at Tim Hortons, Corner Brook, Newfoundland. Here, I'll getcha a coffee."

The man went behind the counter and emerged a few minutes with a blue and yellow paper cup that said "Rrrrrrrrrroll up the rim to win!" Harry took the coffee and took of sip of the hot stuff.

"So ya don't got no idea how you came to getting here?" The man asked as he went behind the counter again. Harry shook his head.

"But I think I can find my way home," Harry said. He walked out the door, coffee in hand. He was standing on the sidewalk, not knowing where to go to get back to Privet Drive. But he didn't have to think, because as soon as he stepped out onto the street, he was pulled up, up into the sky...

* * *

Harry fell through a ceiling of something, he couldn't see what it was, it was too dark. He heard singing, "Gee, I'm glad I'm no one else but me..." He saw a lighted stage. There was a red headed girl, an old man... Harry next felt considerable pain. He crashed into a man holding a sort of wand. In front of him was an entire orchestra; they were staring at him with mutinous looks on their faces.

"You... you killed our conductor," the flutist said. "He was the best conductor Anne of Green Gables ever had."

From above them, a face of the red head looked.

'I wanted to see-you killed him!" she yelled. Her face went as red as her hair, (much like a Weasley) and she jumped down into the orchestra pit despite the old-fashioned dress she was wearing. "You're gonna get it..." but yet again, Harry was floating up...

* * *

Harry fell down onto another sidewalk. He looked up into the face of a curly haired man with a microphone. The Union Jack waved and a deep booming voice said,

"TALKING TO THE BRITISH!"

"Where'd that come from?" Harry said wildly, looking around the street. The man helped him to his feet and started talking to him.

"The Prime Minister of Canada, Raine Maida is introducing a new award to the women of Canada, called the 'Our Lady of Peace Award'," the man said, smiling in a very shallow way. "Who do you think should be the first women to receive it?"

"I don't believe you," Harry told the man. At this the man's smile faded and he took on a very angry look indeed.

"Look, kid," he snarled, "I'm counting on a Gemini or two for this. So say something stupid and everyone will be happy."

"No."

The man charged after Harry, throwing down the microphone. Harry ran, until he was going up, up...

* * *

Harry landed outside a strange looking stadium with a sort of inclined tower coming out from the top of it. He walked along the outside of the stadium, trying to find an entrance. All of the sudden there was a gigantic CRASH! A piece of concrete had fallen from overhead Harry.

"Oh, not again!" A voice yelled from behind Harry. Two construction workers ran out to the chunk of concrete. "I keep trying to tell everyone that this place just ain't safe! They come anyway! This should convince Chretien!" The two workers tried to lift the piece of the stadium, without much luck.

"Hey kid!" one of them said. "Help us here, we need someone else to lift." But Harry was floating away, leaving the workers to shake their fists at him...

* * *

Harry landed on soft grass this time. He looked up to a large building in front of him, with an awed expression on his face. For a fleeting moment he thought he was in London, but then he saw the Canada flag waving at the top of the tower. Still in Canada.

Harry had just gotten to his feet when a stranger in a wet suit knocked him back down.

"Excuse me," said Harry timidly. The stranger turned around. Harry got to his feet again. He was facing a grinning man in a blue and black wet suit. Harry was certain he saw a small "ping" when the man smiled.

"Do you work here?" Harry asked the wet-suited man.

"I used to," he said, still grinning like an idiot.

"What's your name anyways?" Harry asked the man.

"Doris- I mean- Stockwell Day," the man replied with a smile. Harry and Stock gazed up at the Peace Tower for a while until Stock squealed like a little girl. He was covered in chocolate milk.

"You," he said menacingly at Harry. "You." He was dripping in Chocolate milk. He advanced on Harry. Once again, Harry floated up... up...

***

Harry found himself outside a large stone building with a disgruntled sock puppet beside him.

"Excuse me," he asked the sock. "Can you tell me where I am?"

The sock puppet looked angry. "I should have expected this, you're British. Look up." Harry followed the socks instructions, and saw a tower with a sort of disk on it.

"Oh, Toronto," Harry said.

'Well duh," the puppet said sarcastically. "No, you're in Calgary."

"You know what," said Harry, disliking the puppet with every second, "when horses get this lame, they shoot them."

"You took my line!" The sock shouted. "You're almost as bad as Triumph the Insult Comic Dog."

Before the sock could do anything, Harry floated up yet again...

***

Harry landed outside a sign that said, "Welcome to Nappanee". Just where Nappanee was exactly, Harry wasn't sure. He stood up to get a better look at where he was, when he was knocked over by a bunch of skaters. A girl turned around to look at him. She had long, brownish-blonde hair and a tie around her neck.

"Hey, dude," she said. "Wanna go crash the mall?"

"Sure, shrugged Harry.

"OK!" said the girl, seemingly very excited.

Harry had fun at the mall with the girl and her friends. They stole food samples and jumped in a kiddy pool. Harry thought the longhaired girl enjoyed his company, until she pulled him away from her friends.

"Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?" she asked angrily.

"Huh?" said a confused Harry.

"You're acting like you're somebody else." She looked very frustrated. "Promise me I'm never gonna find you fake it."

"No, no, no," said Harry as he floated out of sight...

***

Harry landed on hard dirt beside a barrel. He shook his head and looked around. There was a horse coming right for him!

Harry shouted out and the horse ran away with a sharp turn. Harry saw a woman in a cowboy hat fall of the horse.

"You ruined my performance! Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to be in the Calgary Stampede?"

Harry started to back away slowly.

"I...I didn't mean too... honestly," he stammered.

The woman acted as though she hadn't heard a word he said. She got back on her horse and trotted over to the side of the stadium, which Harry now noticed was packed with people. A man handed her a rope. She did a complicated knot making a...

"Lasso," Harry breathed. The woman was charging at him, but Harry was floating into the sky...

***

Harry fell into a cluttered old house and landed on his back. A toothless man in a cap and flannel shirt was looming over him.

"Huh? What?" Harry said incoherently. "Who're you?"

"I'm Mike, from Canmore," the man said in a monotone. "This is my dog, Willy." The man gestured to a stuffed dog behind him. "Sit. Good boy."

"That dog's not real!"

Mike looked crestfallen, "It's real... look, and he listens to everything I say. Speak!" Mike looked at the dog. It was just as still and silent as before. "Good boy."

"What are you saying that for? It's a stuffed dog, it isn't going to understand what you're saying," Harry said.

Mike started to turn an angry red. "Are you criticizing the way I train my dog?"

"No, it just..."

"YOU CAN DO WHAT YOU WANT TO ME, JUST LEAVE WILLY ALONE!"

Once again, Harry floated upwards...

***

"Up boy! Up! Get this toast done, and don't you dare burn it this time..." It was the first time Harry had been happy to hear his aunt's voice. It was all a dream... no more Canadians....

"And by the way, there's a bunch of people looking for you downstairs. Americans, I think..."

Harry's heart sank as he walked into the scene before him in the Dursely's dining room. His gaze fell upon a girl with a tie round her neck... a man in a wet suit, grinning despite the angry look in his eyes. Then to a red haired girl, with her were men holding instruments. And everybody looked very mad at Harry.