First off, Whirlwind is a collaboration between me and Arlewena. This has been a story the pair have us have been toying with for some time, and we decided we should probably share it. Whirlwind features a fem!Harry.

We do not own Hetalia or Harry Potter.


Prussia

The ex-nation of Prussia was in the midst of a vitally important scouting mission. The mission was a classified matter of great import; in fact, only two other beings knew of its existence.

This secret matter drove him to wander through the lands of England, wearing a hoodie to hide the shade of his hair from any who weren't looking for it. There was nothing to be done about his eyes, eyes that shifted from blood red to a sapphire blue depending upon lighting and his mood, though they tended to stick primarily to red. He was generally one to flaunt his unusual appearance, but certain matters required that he not draw too much attention to himself. He would prefer that England not hear of his presence quite yet, or the entire project could be compromised.

The former nation more commonly referred to as Gilbert these days sighed and looked up at the dreary sky. He'd been wandering the rainy little island country for hours, searching any and all spots that had the feel of magic for news of his quarry. So far he'd had no luck. The young Irena Potter, so called 'girl-who-lived', could not be found. No one seemed to know of her whereabouts, only that she was safe and to rejoin the society when she attended school in six more years.

It was ridiculous! The girl was supposed to be one of the most famous figures in that weirdo England's magical society, yet no one seemed to have any true idea of where she was. It was said that the girl would be with one of the rich, prominent magical families who could keep her safe, but there was no word of any such family taking in a little girl. He should have been able to find at least one crazy stalker fan who had a better idea of things, but there had been none. The entire thing bothered Gilbert. Of course he was glad that people seemed to be allowing this poor little girl her own private life, but with how famous she was the idea of this much privacy should be laughable.

Gilbert was beginning to think the BTT would have to think up a solution, or they'd have to admit defeat. England must have taken measures to keep the girl safe. Paranoid jerk. Then again, she would have many enemies, given how she'd become so famous. Such measures had probably saved her life.

It sucked when safety got in the way of his having fun. It's not like they would have hurt the girl, or even kept her long! They'd just planned on taking her for a day or two, then returning her home soon enough once they'd had their fun messing with England.

He realized his feet had led him down a suburban street lined with perfectly tended houses that were so devoid of personality Gilbert was surprised he didn't immediately wither away and die from the lack of awesomeness surrounding him. The day had turned to evening during his wanderings. A few of the neighborhood's inhabitants were outside, all of which immediately gave him suspicious glances.

Gilbert was perfectly willing to ignore all of the sad little ants who lived on the street until he heard the screams as he passed by Number Four. One of the front windows was open, a sudden breeze blowing aside the curtain and allowing him to see a glimpse of the scene from inside.

A huge, walrus of a man had taken a little girl, only a toddler, by the neck and was shaking her around in the air. The little thing wasn't making a sound, remaining limp. She might as well have been dead as the man raged at her. Gilbert didn't know what exactly had happened, but just looking at the little girl was enough to make his blood boil. Her clothes were huge on her, in poor condition. Considering the shining car parked in the front, this was not the result of poverty. What skin he could see was marred with bruising. She was all skin and bones, clearly half-starved even at this distance. There was undoubtedly more he could not see.

As the red-faced walrus man flung the girl out the open window, Gilbert was there to catch her in his arms. Cradling the girl to his chest, he threw back his hood and glared at the man who was gaping at him. Behind him, Gilbert could see a woman holding another child, this one overweight and in much better condition than the one in his arms.

Gilbert and the man stared at one another for some time, until Gilbert smirked, predatory and full of all the darkness that lay inside any nation. The man staggered back, throwing his arms out as if to protect the woman and child behind him as he cried, "D-demon!"

"That's me." Gilbert chuckled, low and dark, "I'll be seeing you again. Real soon." With that he turned on his heel and stalked away.

His anger quickly burned out as he made his way down the road. Prussia peeked down at the child in his arms, noticing the tears on her cheeks and how she was shaking. He didn't know if it was from fear, pain, or maybe just the chill.

It didn't take him long to realize he'd just kidnapped a child. What should he do? He couldn't just take her home, especially not since they were in an entirely different country. He didn't even consider returning her, not to that horrid man.

He looked down to the little girl, and said, "Even though most people would consider this a kidnapping, I won't take you where you don't want to go. Where shall the awesome Gilbert Express take you? The police? An orphanage? Child services? Or do you have family that isn't the scum of the earth?" He paused, and added as an afterthought, "I guess you could stay with me, if you wanted." To his surprise, the girl looked up with striking wide green eyes and threw her arms about his neck. Gilbert faltered a moment, before he chuckled.

"I'll take that as your answer, then. It's going to be a bit of a trip, I live all the way in Berlin, in Germany, with my little brother, West. He's a bit stiff, but he's still got some awesomeness to him, thanks to my awesome older brother skills. We blame that silly Austria for his stiffness." He had started prattling at this point, but his words seemed to calm her shakes. "We may have to use less than legal methods to get us out of the country, but I don't think West will mind if I use my allowance to fund it. It's for a good cause, so he should be okay with it even if he is a bit of a stickler for rules… you know what, what he doesn't know won't hurt him. It'll be our little secret. Glad you agree. Do you have a name?... Prefer not to say? Well, I suppose that's fair. I did kidnap you, after all."


Hours later, he'd finally gotten them to Berlin and then he realized he had no idea what he was doing. Sure, he knew how to take care of a child, but he had basically kidnapped her. He had no idea about any medical issues he had to be aware of. He didn't even live in his own house. He couldn't raise a child in his brother's basement, though he doubted West would kick the child out. The paperwork alone would be a nightmare. She hadn't spoken to him yet, was she mute? He could work with it, but it would require even more paperwork. And then there was the psychological damage that could be done by abuse, that would last long after the physical had faded. He'd also have to feed her up.

Well, that was one thing he could do. He set the girl down on a chair in the kitchen, in his clear view, with a blanket and an old stuffed animal he'd managed to dig up. The girl had yet to say a word to him, but she'd started looking at him, finally. She had wide, knowing green eyes that followed him everywhere.

He looked around in West's refrigerator, pulling some things out, before turning to the stove. He frowned as he examined it. Truthfully, he hadn't touched a stove in decades. Had they always looked so… strange?

Gilbert squared his shoulders. No strange-looking stove could defeat him, the mighty kingdom of Prussia! He used to be a pretty awesome cook, he'd do fine.

The stove seemed to disagree, deciding, no, he would not do fine.

Instead he'd end up burning West's house down.

The fire spread in record time as he tried to figure out how to turn the stupid thing off, and then tried to put the fire out as the alarms blared at him. So much for cooking for the child, at this point she'd starve, or burn to death before eating anything. If he couldn't even do this right, how was he supposed to take care of her?!

And then, the door opened. His head whipped around as he tried to desperately think up an excuse to give West for being found in the midst of burning his house to the ground, when he saw instead the short italian. He watched as South Italy looked to him, to the child watching the fires curiously, with amusement at his predicament on her face, and then to the fire he'd mostly contained at this point. Gilbert was frozen, waiting for some reaction out of Lovino, likely involving a lot of yelling. This… this was even worse than if Germany had showed up! Could his day get any worse?

Only the yelling didn't come. Instead the nation mutely rolled up his sleeves and began to help him put out the fire, without even asking what the child was about. No doubt he could see what bad shape the little girl was in. Wait, would he think Gilbert had done that?! Surely he knew Prussia well enough to know he wasn't a child-abuser. Did he? Surely he would have removed the little girl from the situation, or shot Gilbert, called the authorities, something. Not this whole mute thing he had going on. And what was with that? Italy Romano was always yelling. Why wasn't he now? Had he been possessed? Was that a thing?

Once the fire was out, Gilbert slowly backed away from the other nation, retreating to the girl who was watching them with interest. In a vain attempt to shield himself from Lovino's impending reaction- not that the awesome Prussia needed anything to shield him, least of all a young child- he picked the girl up and cradled her to his chest, making sure the blanket was firmly wrapped around her in the process.

Romano stared at him, still completely silent. It was unnerving. Gilbert's hand nervously fidgeted, which he disguised by running his fingers through the girl's red hair. Lovino's gaze finally broke away, only for a moment, as he turned his attention to the stove. With slow, deliberate movements the nation began to clean off the stove, threw out Gilbert's pitiful attempt at food, and began to prepare to cook himself. All the while Lovino threw looks Prussia's way. The silence was suffocating. His fidgeting turned to twitches under Romano's gaze.

Finally, Gilbert couldn't take it anymore, and began to babble, "Look, the fire was an accident! And, okay, I've done a few illegal things today but they were for a good cause! I didn't mean to kidnap her, but I couldn't just give her back to that unawesome man! I didn't know what else to do, and I did ask her where she wanted to go and she made it pretty clear she wasn't leaving me and I just wanted to get her fed, and maybe I'm a little out of practice with modern ovens… Alright, and I also may have gotten us back into the country in less than legal ways, and used West's money to do it, but I couldn't exactly take her through customs! I could probably talk my way out of it, but it would take longer! I know she's not one of my own, or even West's, but even if she is England's I couldn't not… help her. I mean…" Words failed him as he was met with the unimpressed, judgemental look from not only Romano, but the little girl in his arms too. It was frankly terrifying. Lesser men would have screeched like a girl, hidden under a table, and maybe cried for their mother while they were at it (not that he'd ever admit it, but Gilbert might have let out a squeak of fright).

He had a bad feeling that this scene before him was a forecast of what he would often see in his future.

At last, Lovino sighed, "It's a good thing you potato bastards keep the ingredients for pasta around for when my brother visits. We're going to have to do something about those clothes of hers, not to mention her wounds. I was a doctor for a few years not too long ago, I think I should be able to handle are you planning on raising her, since you aren't returning her to the proper authorities?"

"Uh… here, I guess? I hadn't really thought it through yet." Gilbert admitted, shifting from foot to foot. The girl in his arms was smiling a little at him, seeming to take joy out of his predicament. At least someone was getting amusement out of this.

"Of course you haven't." Lovino replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "You can't raise her in big and brawny's basement. You don't know what might be living down there, besides you, which is a whole other problem. I should have enough room in my own house, the one I don't share with Veneziano. You can come stay too. Even if you can't cook, you must be useful for something. I mean, you are friends with Spain- then again, he's friends with the Frenchie… and he's only useful for very specific things, so perhaps the tomato bastard is not the best judge. Anyways, I'll help sort out the legal matters, but not for you. Just for the bambina."

Gilbert honestly had no idea how he was supposed to react. Romano still hadn't yelled at him. In fact he was being almost… nice? Maybe he really was possessed.

"Stop staring. Sit her down somewhere, and go wash your hands. Get a washcloth and clean her up a bit, too. I won't be much longer." Lovino ordered, waving the spoon he was using for the sauce at Prussia to accentuate his words. Gilbert didn't dare disobey, too busy trying to make sense of this strange behavior.

Soon South Italy had set a small plate in front of the child, the pasta cut up into bite-sized pieces. As he did so, he asked in a soft voice, "So, bambina, will you tell me your name?"

"My name?" the girl answered to Gilbert's astonishment, "Aunt and Uncle always call me Freak. I think that's my name."

Prussia had to distract himself from how boiling furious that made him, so he blurted, "So you'll talk to him?! I've been talking to you this entire time, and you haven't said a word! I thought you were mute! What's so special about him? I'm the awesome one, and you're supposed to be my awesome little bird henchman!" He gave an over-exaggerated pout.

"Shut up." Lovino said, his voice very obviously barely controlled. He returned his attention to the girl and added, "We'll think of a name for you when you've eaten. Freak is not a name." With that he turned and returned to his pots, quickly making two more plates and shoving one at Prussia. Gilbert just barely remembered his manners enough to give a quick thank-you.

"All this is for me?" the little girl asked, looking down at the plate with confusion.

Gilbert nodded, "Of course. Grouchy Romano never would have given it to you if he didn't mean for you to eat it." As Lovino glared at him, the girl looked between them both, before she shrugged and took a bite. Before long she was nearly inhaling it she was eating so fast.

"Slow down, you'll make yourself sick." Romano warned gently, reaching over to dab around her mouth with a towel.

As Prussia finished his own plate of pasta, he remarked with a smirk, "So I was thinking that a good name for my awesome new henchman would be Gil-girl. What do you think?"

"That's stupid. I won't have you cursing the bambina with a bad name. I'll be the one to name her." Lovino snapped to the girl's indifference. Lovino's expression turned contemplative as he thought over the matter, before finally he said, "Perhaps Sarita?"

"Nah. She's not a princess, she's an awesome knight-bird-henchman!" Gilbert retorted. Lovino shrugged and continued to think on it.

At last, Romano suggested, "Aella? What do you think?" he directed the question quite obviously to the little girl, who nodded vigorously before Prussia could argue against the idea.


Thank you for your time.