A/N: sorry I've been so inactive and irresponsible of previous stories, but I'm currently stressed out and uber sick ;_; So here're some drabbles for you. They are centered on one pairing and the plot revolves around a random song my mp3 player decides to spew out.

Enjoy~

DISCLAIMER: HETALIA AND ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO HIMARUYA HIDEKAZ.

Absolutely (Story of A Girl) is a song sung by Nine Days.

HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO JK ROWLING

I do not own anything except my mp3 player and the alteration of the plots OTL

LAUGHTER

Song: Absolutely (Story of A Girl) - Nine Days

Alfred F. Jones always singled Arthur Kirkland out from the crowd.

It was never on purpose, though. The British just caught his eye. At football practice, Arthur was on the bleachers, all by himself, reading a battered copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix with the hood of his sweater upon his head. On normal school days, Arthur would always be invisible to the other kids, being pushed into lockers as he passed by, being badly bruised on the shoulder as a jock purposefully bumped him.

Alfred had never been this conscious of another's presence before. Nor has it ever bugged him. But ever since he started to see him, he got restless every morning to go to school.

Alfred wanted to talk to Arthur, but when he was a few feet away, the Brit would look at him with those shining emerald eyes – full of fear – and then he would sharply turn away to disappear into crowds. No matter how hard Alfred wanted to talk to him, he never gave in. The American never gave up, either.

One day, Arthur didn't show up at school.

Alfred took note of his absence, and his worry increased as several days go by with no sign of the Brit.

After a week of worrying, Arthur Kirkland returned, but he was never quite the same.

He had bruises on his shoulders, bandages running up both his arms. He tried to hide it as best as he could, but whenever Alfred got close enough he could see the inky purple blots ravaging Arthur's otherwise flawless skin. The bandages Arthur tried to hide inside one of his usual oversized sweaters, but whenever he moved a flash of white could always be seen underneath. And all throughout the following week, he walked with a limp.

All this was noticed by only Alfred Jones.

Several days afterwards, it was already semester break. Alfred said goodbye to his team and purposefully went to an almost deserted corridor where Arthur was having trouble taking out all his textbooks (as well as his other book series)from his locker. Alfred caught his weight before the Brit stumbled weakly to the ground with a jolly "Whoopsy-daisy!"

Arthur looked up at him through thin rectangular glasses, alarmed. "G-Get off me!" He squeaked, getting up instantly and wincing as he put force on his injured leg.

"Hi,I'm Alfred!" The American introduced, smiling. He pointed to the locker and said, "You really like reading, huh?"

"It's my refuge from this crazy world, Alfred," Arthur answered curtly, yanking his beloved hardbounds back. "Thank you for helping me. Although I noticed you veering here to this dead-end corridor with only me as the inhabitant. Did you need something?"

"Yeah, I need answers." As the Brit raised an eyebrow, Alfred continued. "Where were you these past few days?"

At this, Arthur grew suddenly cold and banged the locker closed. He stalked off with as much dignity as he could muster. "Life's got ups and downs, Alfred. But I don't think you'd be interested to know mine."

"Hey, wait up!" Alfred yelled after him, tripping over a battered book that had fallen from the locker. Alfred's jaw collided with the marble floor with a loud thud, and he cursed, angrily stroking his sore jaw.

Then there was a tinkling laugh.

Alfred looked up to see Arthur doubled over, leaning on the wall and gasping for air as he continued laughing. It was the most melodious sound Alfred had heard. Once Arthur stopped giggling, he picked up the reason of his tripping.

"The Order of the Phoenix," he mustered, dusting off the faded blue cover. "This was the only book from the Harry Potter series that my Mum allowed me to bring from England when we moved here. It's a treasure to me, no matter how battered it becomes."

Alfred stood up and heaped all Arthur's books into his muscular arms. "Where to?"

"What?"

"I can't just have you carrying all these by yourself!"

Arthur flushed and pointed to a street nearby, and Alfred shrugged as he stepped into place with Arthur.

"You know," the American muttered. "I noticed, you try to drown the world out."

Arthur nodded. "With my history, you'd be a nutter not to."

"But," Alfred cut in, smiling. The sunset reflected on his glasses and his blue eyes twinkled with a golden sheen. "I love your laugh. It's so carefree and jovial. You should smile more. You look much more pleasant than being the grouch."

Arthur scowled, but afterwards, he just laughed again, satisfying the needs of Alfred Jones.