Hi, it's me! (that's kind of obvious but...) Anyway, this is my first cross-fic so please be nice and leave nice helpful reviews.

Arthur Kirkland sat in his office, slumped over an expensive mahogany desk. He was writing feverishly, occasionally lifting his quill off the parchment in order to proof-read and edit the already lengthy scroll of ancient runes. He sighed quietly and ran a hand through his spiky blonde hair, his emerald eyes narrowing in disgust.

"Hwæt, wē Gār-dena in gēardagum þēodcyninga þrym gefrūnon, hū ðā æþelingas ellen fremedon. AGH! How stupid can I be? Oh, Gordon Bennett. I don't have time for this."

The personification of England ripped off the offending sentence and chucked it onto the crackling fire. A small whoosh of burning and the paper was gone for good. He then stood up, flexing his back and cramping finger joints which had gone stiff and painful in the cold of his study despite the merry flames in the fireplace.

Arthur reached into the pocket of his scarlet velvet waistcoat and pulled out a lighter with the union flag printed on it. Turning to the door he lit the oil lamps that hung, fat and bulbous, from the ceiling. Soon the book-lined room was lit by a warm, old fashioned glow. Arthur closed the heavy curtains and sat down in his chair. His eyes were tired by the spidery runes and his body longed for the comfort of his own bed, a heavy eiderdown and a cup of hot milk. He ploughed on however, not repeating the first lines of Beowulf again but still making mistakes that would have seemed obvious in the light of day.

The cup of tea on the side of his desk was sipped mechanically, even though by now it was cold and the honey had separated to the bottom of the cup. He took his wand and stirred it tiredly, willing the chilled beverage to lend him some energy. He picked up the delicate china cup and saucer and took another sip. Still cold, still bitter from the tannin in the tea bag which had reclined at the bottom of his drink for the last half an hour. Arthur shuddered and gulped the rest of the foul concoction down, almost retching at the sweetness of the settled honey that should have sweetened the rest of the drink.

A timid knock on the door. Arthur looked up, surprised that someone was wandering around his house at what, according to his pocket watch, was two in the morning. He stared at the heavy wooden door and wondered who on Earth it was. Literally, if you took into account that he and his friends were personifications of countries. Another rap, this one louder, jolted him out of his thoughts.

"C-come in." He yawned, his voice dripping with exhaustion.

The door swung open and a concerned looking America stepped into England's study. Arthur almost laughed at his stupidity. How could he have forgotten that the Yank was staying the night? The nineteen year old was decked in blue pyjamas that had winged hamburgers on them. He had obviously just been in bed for his glasses were askew and he carried a green bound book in one hand: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

"Arthur, are you okay, man? You look absolutely wiped."

Arthur smiled wearily and dipped his quill into the black ink. He drew a few more runes in his long thin handwriting and then looked back to Alfred again. He wanted the American to get the message and leave him to finish this eye wateringly long report that was due the next day. He could not think how he had ever allowed his paperwork to get so ahead of him but there it was; a pile of papers and reports that needed to be done as high as Sealand's knee as well as the inevitable spreadsheets that he would have to fill in at the end of the next week's world meeting. Alfred didn't move. His bright blue eyes flashed demandingly behind their glasses and Arthur knew that he would have to answer.

"I'm fine. Just a bit… tired." The second sentence was punctuated by an enormous yawn that filled his head and ears. "Why don't you go to bed, Alfred, whilst I finish this bloody report on the ways that British House elves are treated in the average pure blood home? It's due tomorrow and rather important to me as well as to the judges of the Wizardgemot as there is a trial on the alleged mistreatment of a 'Dobby' by the Malfoy family."

Alfred looked petulantly at the watch on his wrist. "Iggy, it's ten past two in the morning. You look absolutely exhausted and can hardly form those squiggles that you draw so much. You need sleep. Why must you work so damn hard all of the time? Just take a break, grab eight hours shut eye and THEN get back to your precious report. Why do you have so much paperwork, anyway? I'm a bigger country than you and I get by just doing it in the World Meetings."

"Magic and stuff." Explained England irritably. "I need a break but I can hardly stop now. I have Scotland's economy to review and sort, Wales needs 'help' on an eleven thousand word report and Northern Ireland has lost her copy of the last UK meeting minutes so she wants me to fax her over another. I think that's all but I need to have it done by ten tomorrow morning. You have no idea how much I hate being obliged to do the work of four countries instead of one but I can't stop now…" He cracked his knuckles again and started writing again with almost as much vigour as he had before.

"You can't accomplish all of that in so little time!" Exclaimed Alfred, frowning. "So much work in one night, I'd mess it all up."

In response England showed America a golden necklace with a small sand timer in it. There were three rings on the chain, one inside the other so that the hourglass could spin freely. A knob on one side controlled the spins. "My time turner." England explained, still writing. "When it gets early I just spin back time and start the evening again. Most convenient, I assure you, bearing in mind the current state of the UKs' politics. You know…" He said, on the puzzled look from America. "That blasted coalition with their opposing views, Scotland wanting to leave the United Kingdom and the Republic of Ireland occasionally being difficult? No? Idiot."

"Couldn't you just get a few years off?" Said Alfred, looking at his mentor's tired, pale face. "Wales could step in for you in the World Meetings and Canada and I can get your siblings to do their paperwork on time. It would be brilliant for you and you can get to really know your people, you know? I went on one a couple of years back – best thing I ever did. I got trained as a PE teacher and met these really awesome kids…"

"I suppose a break would be nice." Said England thoughtfully, looking at his finished runes and correcting a couple of silly errors. "I have always wanted to teach. There is that boy, too, Harry Potter… And the Triwizard tournament – I'm sure I could get a place as an assistant teacher. Where's my wand? And my owl? I need to send a letter to Hogwarts, see if they'd have me; it would be quite a late application… Alfred you genius, I could kiss you!"

Alfred blushed crimson at these words but Arthur could not see in the dim light cast by his lamps. Arthur grabbed a sheet of parchment and his quill and wrote quickly in his copperplate handwriting:

To Professor Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,

My name is Arthur Kirkland, of the pure blood Kirkland family and I would like to apply for the role of teaching assistant for the next academic year. I understand that as this is a rather late application and the role of teaching assistant rather archaic, there may be no room for me in you teaching faculty. That is your decision to make. I complete the form that Armando Dippet sent me my father fifty odd years ago so you can see if I am suited to the job.

Here Arthur took another sheet of parchment from a draw in his desk and filled in the columns with a rapid hand – as if he had imagined doing just that many times before.

Teaching Assistant Application Form

Name: Arthur Kirkland

Age: 23

OWLS: Outstanding in all except potions, in which I got an E

NEWTS: Outstanding in all.

Hogwarts House: Slytherin/Gryffindor (I changed during my fourth year)

Current Job: Politician

Previous work with children: I raised all of my colonies younger siblings.

Any successful applicants will receive an owl with the details of their interview. If you do not receive an owl please do not show up at the beginning of the new school year or our Groundskeeper, Og, will forcibly remove you from school premises.

England laid the form on top of his letter to Dumbledore and tapped the sheets with his wand (that had still been in his teacup). They rolled themselves neatly up and an emerald satin ribbon appeared and bound the scroll. He then strode across his study, drew back the curtains and pushed open the window. "Lancelot!" He called, over the still countryside "Lancelot!"

Nothing happened.

Then, out of the darkness, came the soft beating of wings and the next second a large horned owl was perched superiorly on the windowsill, as if for all the world, they were visitors in his court, there to entertain him, not to give him jobs to do.

"Leg." Said Arthur coolly. Lancelot obliged and Arthur tied the letter for Dumbledore onto it. "Take this to Hogwarts. Be back soon, mind you, I need you here for tomorrow morning to send a letter to the Wizangemot." The owl snapped peevishly at his master's fingers and soared out of the open window into the still night, letting loose a mournful shriek into the surrounding air. Arthur and Alfred watched the bird leave before Arthur turned to Alfred, excitement burning bright in his green eyes.

"I'm sorry for the haste but I had to do it right away or I wouldn't do it at all. Come on, lad. Let's go to bed."

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"So." Said Professor Dumbledore, bridging his fingers and looking at Arthur over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "You are applying for the Assistant Teacher post. A most worthy endeavour, I'm sure and you have the grades for it but are you aware, dear boy, of the amount of casualties that come with the post? We have not been able to employ an assistant teacher for quite ten years and they were sent to St Mungos in a hatbox. Can you cope with rowdy young witches and wizards who will see you as a challenge?

"I love children." Said Arthur honestly, trying to look as mature as possible. "I know that I'm a bit young but I can assure you that I am aware of the dangers associated with the job. I wish to have a bit of a break this year and nothing will be as refreshing as teaching talented children how to use their powers. There is one problem though…"

"What is it?" Said Dumbledore, looking kindly but firm. Arthur was sure that he would not put up with any dark or dangerous spells during the school year. That would be fine though. It was this secret that would probably break his chances.

"W-well, I'm a bit out of practice…" He stuttered, fidgeting in his comfortable chair, wondering how best to tell this good, noble wizard. Eventually he decided on the truth. "Using a wand."

Dumbledore looked surprised and intrigued and peered at Arthur as if he could not believe what he had heard. Arthur turned red and looked down at his lap, trying to preserve his dignity and maturity whilst embarrassed.

"What do you use, if not a wand?" Asked Dumbledore, sounding slightly confused. "I thought that wizards could only control magic when channelled through a magical object. Are you not a wizard, Mr Kirkland?"

Arthur was not ready to tell Dumbledore that secret yet, and hopefully never. No humans or wizards were allowed to know about the personifications at this moment in time. It was absolutely forbidden. He wondered what he could tell the Headmaster.

"I-I sort of channel it through the palms of my hands for the most part." He said, looking at the pale skin on the palm of his left hand. "I concentrate on the spell I wish to cast and then I let the magic out, if you see what I mean. I stop holding it in and just open it through my hands. It sounds harder than it really is."

"Can you show me?" Dumbledore said quickly. Arthur stared at him. There was almost a greed for knowledge in his voice that shocked the country greatly. He supposed that even the best people must feel greed and anger and lust and so forth but he had never suspected Dumbledore of having these problems.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked, trying to think of something safe yet impressive enough for the headmaster to allow him to stay on at the school. "I can do most spells non-verbally but others require a bit more force."

"Can you cast a corporeal patronus?" Asked Dumbledore, "I mean, a patronus that has a clear and distinct form-"

"I know what a corporeal patronus is, Headmaster." Said Arthur slightly more irritably than he had been, annoyed at the snub to his wizarding knowledge. "I have had no need for one because I have learnt an equally effective spell against dementors." He pushed the palms of his hands together as if he was going to pray and muttered "Veniatadme!"

Arthur's hands were pushed apart by the force of the spell. A round ball of light spun in the centre of the two palms, shimmering with the glow of another world. Suddenly there was a creature dragging itself out of the ball of light and facing Dumbledore. A soft green face with black eyes and long ears, Dumbledore found himself staring into the face of a Flying Mint Bunny.

"Amazing." He whispered, stroking the small creature. "So very shy and magical yet so loyal. I should imagine she would be able to repel dementors?"

"Certainly." Said Arthur, smiling at the rabbit and beckoning her. "She is very intelligent and extremely good company. She also plays a mean game of poker, don't you, Minty?" The rabbit settled herself on Arthur's lap and looked up at him lovingly.

"You play very well, too." She said happily, nuzzling her master and stretching her small green wings. "You are the best of all your brothers, England."

Arthur quickly glanced at Dumbledore in concern that he'd heard what Minty had said but he had obviously just heard the tinkling of wind chimes like every other wizard. He tapped her on the nose and whispered.

"Don't call me England. Call me Arthur."

She nodded and fell asleep on his lap. Arthur stroked her absentmindedly and looked to Dumbledore to see his verdict. Dumbledore smiled at him and stood up. Arthur did too, Minty having disappeared the moment she fell asleep.

"Mr Kirkland, I would be honoured to have you teach at my school. You are a very talented wizard and I believe that you could teach the students a lot in spite of your relative youth." He looked down at his silver hair in a self-deprecating way and Arthur smiled. "However, it is traditional for the Assistant Teacher to take the train to Hogwarts in order for the students to get used to them. Be sure to be at platform Nine and Three Quarters on the third of September by eleven o'clock."