PROLOGUE: A SPOT OF TEA

Anyone who walked into England's house at about four o'clock on the first of August, 1992 would have found a rather odd sight. There were always odd sights, of course, if one was willing to see them; fairies and pixies flying through the halls freely, the ghost of a pirate floating about, a unicorn grazing on the lawn… But if these creatures knew someone was coming, they would usually hide, unless it was Norway or Romania, the other two thirds of the 'Magic Trio'. No, the odd sight was sitting in the living room, waiting patiently for his host to return with tea.

Even if you didn't know his eccentric reputation, you would probably be able to gather quite a bit from his appearance. He boasted a silver beard long enough to tuck into his belt, his hair being the same length. Twinkling pale blue eyes took in the world from behind half-moon glasses perched on a very crooked nose. He was wearing robes, of the kind you would expect to see in a fantasy larping session, though his were much more colourful than the usual plain black. You wouldn't be able to see it from here, but a matching cloak is hung on a coat-hanger near the door. He had an amiable expression and was humming to himself, not impatient at all.

England soon came in carrying tray laden with a teapot, two teacups, milk, sugar, teaspoons, and a plate of what were probably supposed to be scones. He set it down on the coffee table and poured out tea for both himself and his guest. "Milk and four sugars, right, Albus?" he asked.

The strange man, whose name was Albus Dumbledore, nodded. "Yes. I'm surprised you still remember, given how much you have on your mind."

England gave him a genuine smile that would have shocked his fellow nations. "I always have space in my memory for friends." They remained in a comfortable silence for about a minute while they drank their tea. England not very subtly nudged the plate of 'scones' towards Dumbledore, who steadfastly ignored them. He'd learned about England's lack of cooking skills the hard way, and the Healers at St. Mungo's had refused to believe he hadn't been intentionally poisoned.

Eventually Dumbledore said, "I do enjoy your company, England, but I am afraid this isn't purely a social call."

England sighed. "Of course. I was wondering when you'd get down to business. So what did you want to talk about?"

"Whether or not America and… Canada will be attending Hogwarts this year."

England absent-mindedly poured himself another cup of tea. "Hmm… I'm not quite sure. They'll probably be all for it – I've been having to act as the middle-man for all the letters they're exchanging with their friends. The Weasleys' poor owl wouldn't last the trip overseas. And it would be nice to have America out of the way for another year… I'll have to say it's not set in stone yet, but the chances are quite high."

Dumbledore smiled. "Excellent. If that's the case, our History of Magic teacher, Professor Binns, has been wanting to take a few years leave to travel, so I was wondering if you would like to replace him as-"

He didn't finish his sentence because England just barely avoided doing a spit-take and was now choking on his tea. Dumbledore took out his wand and flicked it towards the nation's throat. The tea made its way back into the correct pipe, allowing him to gasp, "W-what?! Th-the whole point of sending America there wa-was so that I wouldn't have to deal with him."

Dumbledore, who had remained unfazed by the whole choking thing, replied, "I have the feeling we are heading into dangerous times, England. I'm sure you have heard how Voldemort nearly returned to power at the end of last term. There is no doubt in my mind that he will try again, and again, and again. You know of the prophecy regarding him, yes?"

England nodded. "Yes, yes, 'neither can live while the other survives' and all that… it refers to Harry Potter, right?"

Dumbledore took a sip of tea and said, "I am curious as to how you learned of it, but now is not the time to pry. Yes, Harry Potter. He is the key to stopping Voldemort, and must be protected. Should the Dark Lord rise back to power, he would be our only hope of defeating him."

England stirred his tea. "I see… so you want me to teach at Hogwarts and be stuck in the same building as America for months at a time, in order to protect Harry?"

"I realize that you two have your… difficulties," said Dumbledore delicately. "But I do hope you will be able to overcome them."

England stared at the dregs of tea remaining in his cup. For a moment he almost wished he'd used tea leaves, so that he could get some sort of sign as to what he should do. On the one hand, Voldemort's return would be a very, very, very bad thing, so making sure Harry Potter was alive to stop him was a very, very, very important job. And it would be nice to return to Hogwarts. He remembered his time there fondly, for the most part. On the other hand, America would be there, and God knew he wouldn't leave England alone. And even through the film of nostalgia, England knew that there had definitely been some bad things about Hogwarts. Peeves was the first that sprang to mind. The poltergeist was pretty much BFFs with Scotland, and England's 'dear' big brother had made the spirit promise to make his little brother's life hell. So pretty much every time England visited Hogwarts he ended up running away being pelted by whatever small, preferably sharp, objects Peeves had managed to grab while screaming obscenities or singing mocking little songs, which England felt were actually worse. Oh, and speaking of Scotland, it was on his territory, so there was a pretty good chance he'd turn up and start ruining his life. And students aged eleven to seventeen were real brats, almost impossible to teach. Always talking during class or so busy making googly-eyes at each other they didn't hear a word the teacher was saying… The list of cons seemed to go on and on and on…

England sighed. "I think I'll have to pass, Albus, so long as you're not planning on housing any valuable magical artifacts at the school this year."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. If all goes well, which it never does, this will be a perfectly normal school year. I'll just have to count on America and Canada to protect Harry."

England nearly rolled his eyes. America is much more competent than you give him credit for, he reminded himself. Sure, he's a complete dolt, but he's strong, and that Granger girl seems clever, she can do all the thinking. Yes, Harry should be fine… Though now that I've thought that, America will probably break his neck while giving him a hug or something.

A/N: Heeellloooooo, everyone, I am back! This is the sequel to Alfred Jones (and Others) and the Philosopher's Stone, so if you haven't read it, I suggest you take a look so that you understand everything and also so that it gets more views and my self-esteem gets a boost. If you have read it, thanks, and here is the sequel you guys seemed to want! HUGS FOR EVERYONE! \(^-^)/ I'd like to thank 95Jezzica for the idea to make Iggy a professor. I'm not going to use it for this book, since I think at this point the cons would outweigh the pros for England, but it gave me a few new ideas, so thank you! Here's a hug just for you \(^-^)/ NEXT CHAPTER: Harry gets some letters. See you all next time!