Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: In which England's magic goes very wrong and Arthur learns a little about his former 'forgotten' colony...
England x Canada
Rated: T
Inter-connected drabble
Potions.
Honestly, they were not England's strongest suit when it came down to the magical arts, but he would say that he was, at least, decent at attempting to make them.
"I do not see why I have to make this," England grumbled under his breath, reading over the list of 'ingredients' that was printed on very old parchment, "Norway is more than capable of making himself this potion," His emerald eyes glanced over at the table, noting that all the ingredients that he needed were there and accounted for, "And so can that bloody Romania!"
The blond Brit carefully measured the ingredients he needed for this particular potion, which would serve as some sort of temporary repel (which England was sure it was meant for both Denmark and Hungary) and poured it all into one boiling cauldron.
He stirred carefully, absently glancing over to the list where the ingredients were, "And an ounce of feline whiskers?" He muttered to himself, raising a very thick brow at the other strange additive, but shrugged it off as he went into his little bag of ingredients and carefully measured the correct amount of cat whiskers.
"This should do it," Arthur mumbled to himself, tipping his hand over to dump the whiskers in with the rest of the potion, though he jumped in surprise when his cell phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket and caused him to tip in all the whiskers into the potion.
England snarled at nothing, berating himself mentally because he knew he should have turned his phone off during his 'hobby' times, "What?" He snapped, already (and, unfortunately) knowing who was on the other line, "What the bloody fuck do you want, America?"
He did not see the lone cat whisker that had been stuck to his black cape gently fall into the potion...
"A waste of flipping time you are!" England snapped, not in the mood for America's games, and with that, he, in a moment of anger, hurled his cell phone into the nearest wall and ignored it; not caring at the moment that his cell phone could be potentially broken.
England quickly walked up to the potion, stirred a few more times and then poured the contents of the vividly gold potions into a few different cups for Norway and Romania, 'I couldn't hurt to test it out.' Arthur thought, shrugging as he took a sip of liquid, 'Besides, if this works, I would always like a break from that Wine-Guzzling Git and that FatAss American.'
The cup the liquid was in dropped to the floor and shattered into many pieces, but that didn't concern England so much because...
...He suddenly felt very small.
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