Title: Lover's Dilemma
Fandoms: Hetalia: Axis Powers and Harry Potter
Characters: Hungary Héderváry (Hungary) and Roderich Edelstein (Austria) with parts played by Gilbert Beilschmidt (Prussia), Feliks Łukasiewicz (Poland), Ludwig (Germany), Arthur Kirkland (England/Great Britain), Alfred F. Jones (America) and cameos/mentions of others
Pairings: AustriaxHungary (main), EnglandxAmerica, PolandxLithuania, PrussiaxCanada (mild), UkrainexAustralia (don't ask), GermanyxN. Italy, SpainxS. Italy
Summary: HP/HAP crossover AU. Exchange students Roderich Edelstein and Elizabeta Héderváry struggle with their feelings for each other as the Hogwarts Christmas Ball approaches.
Warnings: T for language (thank you, Gilbert). Not beta'd. Use of human names. Written accents (mostly German). Male/Male.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Harry Potter.
A/N: I don't even know anymore.
Terminology and Translations along with a Student/House List at the bottom!
I REGRET NOTHING. NOTHING. WAHAHAHAHAHA! *tranq'd*
Lover Dilemma
She was going to drive him insane. That was Roderich's assessment of his fellow Ravenclaw Elizabeta Héderváry. She was beautiful, with emerald green eyes, long light brown hair which made him itch to run his fingers through and creamy skin that he longed to stroke. He had been attracted to her from the minute he laid eyes on her, when the both of them attended the Durmstrang Institute. It had been a slightly awkward time, as he had believed her to be a boy until she revealed her true gender to the shock of many of the boys at the Institute.
When he found out he had been accepted in the exchange program with Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the one to be ecstatic was her. When she found him on the Hogwarts Expressed and exclaimed that she too had been accepted to the program, he had been joyful. The uniform here was modest but compared to the ones at Durmstrang it was extremely revealing. The Austrian found he had a hard time pulling his eyes away from her exposed legs and chest, the latter of which her dress shirt and fitted sweater did wonders to accent.
Elizabeta wasn't the ordinary girl. She was as manly as the next boy but as feminine as the girliest girl. She wore combat boots instead of Mary-Janes and carried a frying pan, which she used to beat away the occasional straying hand. She also used it to beat in the fact of a certain Prussian whenever he stepped over the line or abused Roderich. Yet the Hungarian was kind and gentle with him and with others, so long as they behaved themselves. She always took the time to explain the intricate concept of Potions to the perpetually bewildered American exchange student, Alfred and always helped Austria around the castle as he became hopelessly lost without her guidance.
And more recently, she had been flirting with him, or so claimed the ever-annoying Gilbert Beilschmidt, another transfer student from Durmstrang who seemed to enjoy making Roderich's life difficult. Yet, somehow, he had become Roderich's friend and as such the Prussian believed it was his duty to play matchmaker.
"You really are stupid for a hoity-toity aristocrat, Specs," Gilbert said one day as they were entering the Entrance Hall, slightly windblown, from a dirt-and-plant filled Herbology class. "I mean, she's gorgeous and practically throwing herself at you and all you do is smile and play the piano! That's stupidity at its best!"
"You would know, seeing as you inhabit that realm quite often yourself," the Ravenclaw snapped. He was always grumpy after Herbology class; he hated anything to do with the outdoors and dirt. Herbology was a hellish combination of the two. The class ranked a close second under Quidditch in the list of 'Things to Never Have Anything to Do with Ever Again after Graduation.'
The Prussian blew off Roderich's derogatory comment. "Pfft, you're ignoring the obvious, Specs! She digs you and you dig her! So ask her out already! There's the Christmas Hogsmede trip coming up, and let's not forget the Ball! Verdammt*, Specs, if you don't ask I'm going to ask her for you!"
Roderich rounded on the Slytherin. "You will do no such thing, Beilschmidt! I do not need you to do something I am perfectly capable of accomplishing myself!"
"So you do like her!" the Prussian exclaimed to the Ravenclaw's acute embarrassment. "Excellent, the awesome me is never wrong!"
"Will you be quiet?" the aristocrat snapped as people around them began to stare. "Really, I do not have time for this nonsense." Roderich stormed up the marble staircase and off towards Ravenclaw Tower, leaving the albino Prussian by himself. Gilbert simply shrugged and went to find Antonio and Francis.
He was going to drive her insane. That was what Elizabeta told her best friend Feliks one afternoon as they entered the girl's washroom. They were both looking to freshen up after a particularly nasty Herbology class. No girls threw a fit when they spotted the male exchange student standing beside the Hungarian in the ladies' room. The cross-dressing Pole had long ago been accepted into the female populace of the school and had obtained Gossip Queen status in a matter of days.
"I mean, I'm flirting with him!" Elizabeta said angrily as she pulled a comb through her windswept locks. "Is he just ignoring me or what?"
"Girl," Feliks said as he washed the dirt off his face, "Roddy is like, so clueless. Like, you flirting with him is like flirting with, I don't know, a brick. He's totally oblivious. You'd have to, like, hit him with your frying pan or something before he got it."
"That's not helping!" the Hungarian cried miserably. "What am I going to do, Feliks?"
"Why don't you just tell him?" the teenager asked. "He's never gonna get it otherwise."
Elizabeta shook her head. "That won't work! We work together in almost every class and if he doesn't like me back then it'll be really awkward! I can't do that!"
The Polish teenager sighed as the two students left the restroom. "Then I like, can't help you, Lizzie. All I can tell you is to look fabulous. Now I gotta go to Charms. Later~!" Feliks wiggled his fingers in a wave before skipping up the marble staircase to the third floor.
"Well you're no help," the Hungarian grumbled as she turned on her heel and headed down to the dungeons for Potions. She found the door to the classroom open and Roderich already there, setting up.
"How'd you get here so fast?" Elizabeta asked in hushed tones as she joined him at the table. "You get lost going from the Great Hall to Herbology! How'd you manage to get here without me?"
Her Austrian love interest looked bashful as he admitted, "I, ah, asked Kirkland to show me the way when I couldn't locate you. He brought me down here."
"Oh." The Hungarian turned her attention to fetching her cauldron and beginning the set up that Roderich had already finished. When she was done, she sat on the stool and tried not to stare at the teenager beside her. His nose was firmly planted in a book, though Elizabeta couldn't read what it was titled.
The rest of the class trickled in slowly. Slughorn waddled into the room about ten minutes later and the class fell silent. "Good afternoon, everyone! Today we will be doing some review, so if you would please take out your books and turn 'em to page ten, you'll find we are remaking The Draught of Living Death!" He waved his wand and the chalk began to scribble furiously on the board. "Instructions are in the book, and if you forgot yours, they're on the board! You have until the end of class, so off you go!"
"Can you get my ingredients for me?" Elizabeta asked Roderich sweetly as he stood to acquired what he did not have from the store cupboard. He nodded and vanished into the murky depths of the classroom rear. He returned several minutes later, arms laden with bundles of ingredients. He passed the Hungarian her portion of the items and the two exchange students got to work.
Once Elizabeta had finished slicing her valerian roots and added them to her potion, she snuck a peak at Roderich. She had somehow missed him removing his scarf and cloak, something he only did for Potions. He had sleeveless sweater vest on and the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up past the elbow. His violet eyes were set exclusively on the work in front of him, which was slitting sopophorous beans before crushing them with his knife.
He slid the crushed beans into his cauldron and she could see the small smirk that graced his lips when the potion changed to a beautiful shade of lilac. He straightened and noticed her staring. "Elizaveta? What is it?"
The Hungarian shook her head, removing herself from her reverie. "Nothing, nothing. Sorry."
"It's alright." He returned to his potion and she to hers. She flattened the sopophorous beans and using a trick her mother had taught her, allowed only the liquid to drain into the basin. Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention and she glanced sidewise at the Austrian beside her. His dark bangs, colored a beautiful chocolate hue, were hanging in front of his bespectacled violet orbs. He pushed them away impatiently, squinting with single-minded intensity at his textbook. Elizabeta had always been attracted to him, but as she stared at him in the dingy dungeon, she realized how gorgeous he was.
"Miss Héderváry, your sleeve!" The Hungarian's attention was drawn downward to her cloak sleeve, which had caught fire.
"Shit!" She quickly began to beat it out, but Roderich acted faster.
"Aguamenti," he exclaimed, a small stream of water spurting from his baton-like wand and drenching her sleeve. It quenched the fire on her sleeve, but also extinguished the flame beneath her cauldron. Some of the water had also slipped into the basin and Elizabeta barely had enough time to tackle the Austrian before the contents of her cauldron exploded.
Bits of hardened potion rained down on the occupants of the room. There was a frantic scrabbling of students to protect the contents of their own cauldrons. As the smoke began to clear, Roderich was revealed to be spread-eagle on the floor, his glasses dangling from one ear with soot covering his face. Elizabeta was sprawled rather gracelessly on top of him in a similar state of dishevelment.
"Are you alright, Elizaveta?" Roderich asked her quietly after fixing his glasses.
The Hungarian's heart began to speed up, a blush creeping up her face as she scrambled to get off him. "I-I'm fine! Are you?"
"I have been better," he admitted as he stood and straightened his clothes. "But I am uninjured. I can not say as much for my cauldron . . . or yours."
Elizabeta's emerald green eyes darted to their work station. Both cauldrons had exploded and the contents were everywhere. The teenager covered her mouth in horror. "Oh, Roderich, I am so sorry!"
"Its fine," he assured her. "It was a mere accident."
Slughorn had finally arrived on the scene. "Are you two alright?" he asked, chest heaving.
"W-We're fine," Elizabeta said a tad shakily. "Just a couple of scratches."
"And maybe a bruised ego," Roderich quipped as he dusted off his pants.
"We should have Madam Pomfery check you just in case," the Potions Master said with obvious distress in his voice. "Mister Laurinaitis, could you escort Miss Héderváry to the Hospital Wing."
The brown-haired teenager from Lithuania nodded. "Of course, sir."
"But I don't need to go!" the Hungarian exclaimed. "I'm fine! If anyone should go its Roderich! I tackled him to the ground!"
"I assure you I am perfectly alright," the Austrian assured Slughorn. "I will clean up while Elizaveta goes to the Hospital Wing."
"But—"
Roderich took her hand and looked her in the eye. "You've been acting strangely all day, Elizaveta," he said in his usual quiet tones. "Please go to the Hospital Wing and get evaluated. It would take a lot off my mind."
The teenager's heart skipped a beat. Was he saying he cared about her? She found herself nodding and saying, "Alright," rather breathlessly. The Austrian smiled and handed Toris Elizabeta's bag. The Hungarian found herself being led off to the infirmary by a worried-looking Toris while Roderich began to put some order to the disaster are that was the work station they had shared. Elizabeta colored; how embarrassing.
It was nearing eleven when Elizabeta finally crawled through the door to the Ravenclaw Common Room. Madam Pomfery had wanted to keep her overnight to observe her for the possibility of being concussed, but the Hungarian teenager had managed to worm her way from the matron's grasp. It wasn't without a great deal of arguing and now Elizabeta found she had a mounting headache and two essays to write before classes began the next day. It looked like it was going to be an all-nighter.
The large room was almost completely empty save for one chair by the fireplace. Roderich was sitting in a large armchair, arm propped up on the arm, reading a book. A quill was running by itself over a suspended scroll of parchment. He looked up as he heard the door close. He carefully marked his page and said, "Good evening, Elizaveta."
The Hungarian grunted a reply as she literally fell into the armchair next to him. "Hi, Roderich. . ."
"Are you alright?" he asked, observing her over his glasses. She was touched that he was concerned but she wasn't in the mood for it right now.
"I'm fine!" she grumbled. "I'm just tired and have two essays to finish before tomorrow morning and I haven't started on either of them and it's late already!"
"Would you like help?" inquired the Austrian, leaning forward. "I have finished my assignments for the night."
"Why are you still awake?" Elizabeta asked.
"I was waiting for you," he replied sincerely. "When you didn't appear at dinner I assumed Madam Pomfery was holding you for observation. I was unable to sleep so I decided to simply wait down here on the off chance you were released before tomorrow morning."
Elizabeta's heart fluttered. He had waited for her. He had wanted to make sure she was alright. She managed to stutter out, "Th-Thank you, Roderich."
He smiled that little half-smile of his. "It was nothing. Now, do you require assistance with your essays?"
She nodded earnestly. "Yes, please. I have a Charms essay due first period and Transfiguration essay due after lunch. Both are to be a foot long."
"Alright," he said. "I am proficient in both subjects. What can I help you with?"
They worked together in relative silence. The only sounds were the scratching of the Hungarian's quill and the turning of novel pages, accompanied by the occasional question and soft reply. The clock was striking one-thirty when Elizabeta dropped her quill and slumped into her seat, exhausted.
Roderich cast a drying spell on her parchments before rolling them up and tying them shut with a blue ribbon. He carefully wrote the class each scroll was for along with Elizabeta's name in his perfect hand. He set the two scrolls on the table in front of the Hungarian. "I regret to inform you that Professor Slughorn assigned the class an essay."
She groaned. "When's that due?"
"Next class. You have two days to complete it. I think it plenty of time to compose an essay on the combustibility of water when added to a Draught of Living Death potion." His lips twitched into a smirk as Elizabeta flushed.
"H-He assigned that to the whole class?"
"I believe he stated it was a 'teaching moment.'" The Austrian used air quotes on the last two words.
"That is sooo embarrassing," the girl moaned, sinking further into her chair as if hoping it would open up and make her disappear.
The two sat in an awkward silence. Finally, the Hungarian straightened to retrieve her quill. She cleaned it with a flick of her wand before stowing it and the two completed essays in her bag. Roderich had returned to his book. Elizabeta found herself staring at him again, admiring the way the firelight danced in his violet eyes.
"Elizaveta?" She jumped, startled out of her daze. "Perhaps you should retire. You're staring off into space and muttering."
The girl blushed and fumbled for her bag. "O-Oh, okay. G'night, Roderich."
"Good night, Elizaveta."
"T-Thanks for the essay help."
"It was no problem at all."
The Hungarian smiled, whispered another goodnight and slipped away upstairs. She changed into her nightdress and dreamt only of Roderich the entire night.
The next few days were sufficiently awkward for the Austrian pianist. Not only was Gilbert pestering him at every hour of the day about asking Elizabeta out, but he was also trying to pluck up his courage enough to invite her to the Ball. The event was growing steadily closer and even a week prior he had still not asked. He wasn't even sure if she already had a date or not—although he thought it unlikely, as he would have heard something from either her or the Prussian and his incessant teasing.
She had been acting strange, too. The Hungarian had taken to staring into space and muttering to herself recently. There was also the fact that whenever she was around him she became decidedly more accident prone. Gilbert was telling him that he was right all along and she was head-over-heels, sometimes quite literally, in love with him. The Austrian wasn't so sure.
"I mean, damn!" Gilbert was saying at breakfast two days before the Ball, "If she loves ya so much she's trippin' over herself for ya, than it should be easy to ask her out, right? She'll say yes."
"We've discussed this before, Beilschmidt," the Austrian replied, taking a dainty sip of his coffee.
The albino groaned. "You're such a stick in the mud! Live a little, man!"
Before Roderich could reply, another voice cut in. "Beilschmidt, are you harassing Edelstein again?"
It was Arthur Kirkland, Gilbert's fellow Slytherin and a prefect to boot. He tended to be alright, as Slytherins went. Most of Hogwarts wondered what he was doing in a house that had housed some of the darkest wizards of all time.
"Oh, hey, Artie! Where's your boytoy?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Y'know, your boytoy. Alfred." It was common knowledge that Arthur and the American exchange student from Salem Academy had a relationship that was more than platonic.. If one could call incessant fighting and hurling things at each other 'love.'
"I will have you know that I have never—"
"Do not listen to him, Kirkland. He is simply winding you up." Roderich was well versed in the workings of the Prussian's mind having had to live with him for most of five years. Therefore, he could see when he was trying to upset another.
The Slytherin prefect coughed and straightened his already immaculate uniform. "Right. As I was saying, are you harassing Edelstein, Beilschmidt? If you are, I'm afraid I will have to—"
"Woah, calm down, Artie! I was simply askin' Specs if he'd gotten a date to the Ball, which he hasn't. So I was tryin' to give him some advice on the subject of wom—"
"Whoa, Roddy you don't have a date?" Alfred had joined the conversation. "Seriously? You gotta hurry, dude, or all the good looking ones will have been taken!"
"All the good looking ones have been taken," the Prussian snickered. "At least, the ones he's interested. Except one~! And he's too chicken to—" The rest of his sentence was cut off by a frying pan colliding with Gilbert's cranium. The inelastic collision of steel with skull floored the Prussian, causing him to writhe in pain on the stone floor of the Great Hall. To add insult to injury, an owl soared over and dropped a heavy-looking package directly on Gilbert's chest.
"Good morning, everyone!" Elizabeta chirped happily as if she had not just caused great physical pain to a fellow student. She dropped onto the bench next to Roderich, whose cheeks might have colored oh so slightly, and grabbed a blueberry muffin from the towering pile on the Ravenclaw table. The Hungarian peeled the muffin from its wrapper and began to eat happily, listening to Alfred chatter on happily about the book on aliens he had found in the library.
"Like, morning everyone!" Feliks had arrived, hand in hand with his Lithuanian boyfriend, Toris.
"Good morning," Toris muttered quietly, eyes downcast. From what Roderich had seen of the Hufflepuff, he was shy and withdrawn, but opened up when fewer people where around. "Matthew is getting dressed."
Gilbert looked up from where he was ripping the brown paper off the package he had received. "Slept late, did he?"
The Lithuanian nodded hesitantly. "Said something about . . . being busy last night." Gilbert grinned and Roderich grimaced at the implications. He had not needed to learn that.
"My dress robes came!" Gilbert said with glee, pulling them out of the box. "'Bout time, West got his ages ago! Guess they just had to spend extra time to make them as awesome as I am! Kesesesese~!"
"You're gonna look like your bein' married," Alfred snickered. "As the bride!"
"Shuddap, Jones, white is sexy!"
"Not as sexy as red, white and blue."
"Oh really—OW! FUCK!" Another package had been dropped on the Prussian's head, this one suitably smaller but still managed to cause some damage. Elizabeta giggled as the albino rubbed his head morosely. Roderich rolled his brilliant violet eyes and picked up his goblet to drink his tea.
"What the hell is this shit?" Gilbert asked, holding up a collection of jewelry, a veil, and a tiara. Alfred grabbed the tiara and put it on Arthur's head, much to the Slytherin's annoyance.
Roderich's eyes swept the hall and settled on the cackling exchange students from Beauxbatons. "I believe your friends Carriedo and Bonnefoy are playing a joke on you."
The Prussian rounded on the two of them. "Goddamit you assholes, I'm ain't getting fucking married!" He lobbed the balled up jewelry and veil at the two who dodged the airborne material and returned to their laughter.
Gilbert snatched the tiara from Feliks, who was about to put it on Toris' head and cocked back his arm to launch it across the room but stopped mid throw. A devious look spread across his face and he turned towards the Hungarian in their group.
"Elizabeta~," he called in a sing song voice.
She looked at him wearily. "What?"
"You can have this," the albino told her, tossing her the tiara. As she fumbled for it he added, "By the way, Roderich has something to ask you."
Said Austrian, having been swallowing a sip of coffee, choked violently. Elizabeta patted his back, concern in her emerald eyes. "Are you alright, Roderich?"
"I'm fine," he told her, looking down at his coffee-stained blazer with dismay. He retrieved a napkin and patted at the stain. "No thanks to him."
The Prussian smirked. "So, go on, ask her."
Elizabeta looked confused. "Ask me what? Is he just messing around or do you really have something to ask me?"
"Um . . ." Roderich suddenly found the cuffs of his dress shirt very interesting, a blush staining his cheeks. "Well, that is to say—"
"If you don't tell her, I will!" Gilbert said, cutting over the Austrian's fumbling. "Hurry up, Specs!"
Violet eyes glared at the Prussian. "Shut up, Beilschmidt!" Roderich was slowly turning redder. He didn't like being the center of attention.
"Oh for fucks sake," Gilbert exclaimed exasperatedly. "Eliza, Specs wants to ask you to the Ball but doesn't have the balls to do it himself." Elizabeta flushed the color of a ripe tomato and Roderich stood, looking murderous.
"Beilschmidt!"
"Don't thank me now, thank me when you guys are getting marr—" The Prussian was stopped from finishing his sentence when Roderich's fist connecting with his nose. Feliks gasped as Gilbert went down, blood spurted from the appendage. Meanwhile, the Ravenclaw stormed out of Great Hall, leaving his things under the table.
There was a dead silence. Then the Great Hall erupted into chaos.
Elizabeta didn't see Roderich all morning. She went from Potions to Transfigurations to Charms, his three favorite classes, seeing neither hide nor hair of the Austrian exchange student. After Charms she was the first one standing and heading for the door but was called back by Professor Flitwick. She watched the class file out while nervously fiddling with the strap to the bag that wasn't even hers.
When the last of her classmates had left, Professor Flitwick beckoned her closer. She shuffled forward. "Nothing to be afraid of, Miss Héderváry!" the diminutive teacher told her. "I was just curious if you had seen Mister Edelstein? I need to speak with him."
The Hungarian shook her head. "No, sir, I haven't seen him. I need to find him, I have his bag." She gestured at the black messenger bag she had over her shoulder.
"Well, if you see him, please direct him to me!"
"Yes, sir."
"Alright, you are free to go to lunch! Have a good day, Miss Héderváry!"
"You too, Professor." The minute Elizabeta was out of the Charms classroom she rushed upstairs to the fifth floor. She pressed her ear to the door of the Music Room and listen intently; relief washed over her body when she heard the sounds of soft piano music. She tried the door.
Locked.
The Hungarian fished her wand from her pocket and poked at the doorknob, muttering, "Alohomora." Nothing happened and she frowned. "Annihilare!" This time, the lock clicked open and Elizabeta slipped inside.
Roderich was sitting at the piano, his back turned to her, fingers skimming across the pearly keys of the instrument in front of him. He stopped when she closed the door behind her and locked it with a flick of her wand. "Vhat?"
Elizabeta stopped at the tone of his voice. He was unhappy. Only when his emotions were disturbed did his voice take on a German accent, and a strong one at that. "Roderich . . . it's me."
The Austrian sighed. "I gaderet dat."
"Can I join you?" When he shrugged the female Ravenclaw ascended the stairs of the raised platform and sat on the edge of the piano bench. "You left your bag in the Great Hall when you ran out. I brought it with me." She set the embroidered bag down between them, remembering the long hours he spent pouring over the bag with a needle and embroidery thread in his hand.
"Danke."
"Professor Flitwick is looking for you. He wants to talk to you."
"I know."
A long silence stretched as they tried to look anywhere but at the other. "Did you really want to ask me to the ball?" Her voice was quiet and slightly timid.
He sighed and nodded. "Ja."
"Why didn't you?"
Silence. Roderich looked at the piano keys, obviously thinking his answer over. "I . . . vas scaret. Of vot you voult say." He looked ashamed of himself.
"There was no reason to be scared!" Elizabeta said earnestly. "I wouldn't have hit you or anything when you asked!" She scooted closer to him, moving his bag to the floor. Her hands found his and cradled them. "And if you still want to go, if you still can go, the answer is yes."
Violet eyes widened in surprise. "Vhat?"
"I'll go to the Ball with you!" the Hungarian told him. "Even if you did punch Gilbert in the face."
"Ah . . ." Roderich flushed. "About that . . . is he alright?"
"You broke his nose," she giggled. "But Madam Pomfery fixed it in a couple of seconds, so now it's just Gilbert whining. Really, I've gotten hurt worse in Quiddich." She smiled and squeezed his hand. "Maybe now he'll leave you alone now that he knows you can hold your own."
"I doubt it," the Austrian responded.
Elizabeta laughed. "You're probably right." She took a deep breath. "So, how about it? You, me, dance?" She was embarrassed, as was evident by the blush on her features, but she had had all morning to steal herself up for asking him.
A smile twitched onto Roderich's lips. "I'd like that."
"Good, because so would I!" Her face was bright red, but she didn't care. She was going to the Christmas Ball with Roderich Edelstein! She's giddy with excitement and anticipation.
Roderich pulled his hands from hers and ran his fingers along the piano. "May I play you something?" Elizabeta nodded eagerly. "What would you like to hear?"
She thought about it. "Do you know Fireflies?"
"The song by the Muggle artist Owl City?" he asked. She nodded. "I am certain I could play it, yes."
"Would you?"
"Certainly." He turned to face the piano; Elizabeta did the same. His fingers grace the keys, looking for the correct one to start the song. He finds it and is just about to begin when the Hungarian rests her head on his shoulder. His lips twitch upwards and he brings his fingers down on the keys.
He plays.
Terminology and Translations:
Verdammt – German – dammit
Alohomora is a charm that opens locks.
Annihilare is a door-unlocking charm.
Danke – German – thank you
Ja – German – yes
Student-House List: (Toasty's headcanon)
Roderich-Ravenclaw, Elizabeta-Ravenclaw, Gilbert-Slytherin, Ludwig-Slytherin (we have him as Gryffindor in the RP but creative license, blah blah blah), Arthur-Slytherin, Alfred-Gryffindor, Matthew (who?) -Hufflepuff, Feliks-Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw, Toris-Hufflepuff, Ivan-Slytherin, Natalia-Slytherin, Andy (Australia)- Hufflepuff/Gryffindor, Francis-Slytherin, Antonio-Hufflepuff/Gryffindor/Slytherin (can't decide), Katsuysha (Ukraine)-Hufflepuff, Feliciano-Hufflepuff, Lovino-Hufflepuff/Slytherin, Kiku-Slytherin, Sadiq - Slythering, Gupta-Ravenclaw/Gryffindor, Imo Yong Soo - Gryffindor, Vash - Gryffindor, Lili (Liechtenstein) - Gryffindor, Wang Yao - Ravenclaw, Lee (Hong Kong) - Gryffindor/Ravenclaw, Baltics and Nordic's undecided
A/N: Thank you HAP/AP roleplay group Hetalia Potter for inspiring me to write this. There will undoubtedly be more of this when we get to that point in the RP. *sigh*