Hey everyone! It's MangleMaskyWes here with my first FanFiction! Yay! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter or Hetalia. If I did, the two would have already been made into a crossover book/movie/anime.
P.S. Takes place during the 5th year of Harry Potter
Chapter one: We're off to see the wizards!
A blonde male with emerald green eyes was currently sitting in something known as a World Meeting when he felt a burning pain in his chest. His bushy eyebrows furrowed in confusion before realization slapped him in the face. Oh Bollocks, not now… He whined mentally. A harsh cough echoed throughout the large room where the personifications of the countries and nations of the world sat. Yes, the countries themselves as people. Don't question it. The blonde male, known as England . the United Kingdoms of Great Britain and North Ireland, coughed again catching the attention of some of the nations closest to him.
"Yo, Iggy, you alright, dude?" America questioned, pushing his sandy blonde hair out of his bright blue eyes, readjusting his glasses in the process. England glared at the younger yet much taller nation in annoyance. "Yes, you bloody git, I'm perfectly f-" He couldn't get the words out fast enough as he coughed once more, this time thick amounts of blood following. His head started to spin as he stared in horror at the blotches of red that now stained his glove. The startled cry of "IGGY!" was all the Englishman heard before he toppled out of his chair and everything went black…
France, who had been absentmindedly checking his perfectly manicured nails at the time, heard America shout. He turned around to spot England, his rival (And crush hehehe), unconscious on the floor, strings of red trailing down his unhealthily pale chin. "Sacre bluea!" The Frenchman cried out in alarm, racing over to the injured nation. He carefully scooped him up into his arms and rushed out of the room. After entering a room at random, he set the now conscious English nation down on the small couch occupying the room. "What's wrong, Angleterre?" France asked, a hint of worry in his voice. "Voldemort has risen to power once again…" England muttered darkly. France gasped as tears appeared in his sparkling blue eyes. "What!? But last time you…" France trailed off, shuddering at the memories of what had happened to the poor English nation.
"And this time, I refuse to just sit idly by whilst some supposed 'Dark Wizard' is ruining my land and destroying my country." England declared as he wiped the remaining crimson liquid from his mouth. "Zen I am going to help you. Besides, my boss can handle zings for a while. I assume we will be leaving to somewhere in England, non?" England rolled his bright green eyes, but smiled nonetheless. He would never say it, but he was happy for the support. "You may be a perverted git France, but you sure are helpful." He stated as said nation helped him to his feet. He could practically feel the question burning in those sparkling bright blue eyes, 'where are we going?' England sighed at the unspoken question. "We are headed to Hogwarts, a school for witches and wizards, in Scotland, although it mainly belongs to me since Allistar (Scotland) could care less about magic."
France nodded in understanding. "I'm guessing we will be using our human names, non?" England nodded once more, a smile slipping onto his usually scowling face. "It's goodbye England and France, hello Arthur Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy."
The trip to Diagon Alley had been fairly quick, what with England surprise apparating the two of them there. France had complained loudly about the use of surprise magic, where as England was too busy laughing at the dazed and panicked expression on France's face. "Albus should be awaiting our arrival, seeing as how he has probably received my letter by now." The Englishman mused after he had calmed down. France rolled his eyes, pausing to wink at a pair of blondes walking by, both of which immediately began blushing and giggling like school girls. France smiled, until he noticed that their eyes were on the all-to-oblivious-to-attraction England. "Oh, Arthur~ I zink you 'ave some admirers~" France chided in a sing-song voice. England looked back and spotted the two giggling women, blushing out of embarrassment as he hissed under his breath to France. "It's because their British and I am their nation. They're naturally drawn to me. They really don't find me THAT attractive, I assure you."
France simply chuckled, before gazing awestruck at the large marble building they had approached. "Arthur, mon Angleterre, what is zis place?" People walking by raised an eyebrow at France. What, hadn't he ever seen a bank before? Why was a fully grown wizard acting like a muggleborn first-year? England sighed before stating "its Gringrotts, the wizard bank." France just continued to stare wide-eyed. "We don't have banks zis nice back in France!" He finally managed. England chuckled as he led the awestruck nation into the bank. France quickly regained his composure enough to not look like a bloody idiot. "Vault one please." England stated to the goblin behind the desk. The goblin looked at England like he was mad, before sneering. "Vault one hasn't been opened in centuries so I highly doubt that you-" England cut him off by handing him a shiny pure gold key.
After looking the key over and using some form of magic (Even England had no idea how they did it) the goblin stated with a shocked look on its face "It's real." He stared at England in disbelief. "Young man, who are you? Where did you get this key?" England smirked, pretty darn close to his rebellious pirate smirk actually, as he said "Arthur Kirkland, and how I got the key is a family secret." France was pretty sure that that was a bunch of bull, and assumed that the key was from millions of years ago when England was a child. After a long trip to Vault One (France nearly peed himself when he caught sight of the various traps and dragons) the two of them entered the vault filled with ancient knick-knacks and ridiculous amounts of wizard money. After getting enough money to probably buy out the entire wizarding world, the two exited the bank to find various cameras snapping photos and one miss Rita Skeeter, notepad and feather at the ready.
"Excuse me! Excuse me! Yes, hi I'm Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet Press, would ya mind answering some questions for us?" England scowled as the woman didn't wait for an answer and immediately began machine gunning questions. France shifted uncomfortably as other reporters began asking him questions he'd rather not answer; what's your heritage? What's your blood? What magical community are you from? What is your relation to Mr. Kirkland? etc. He had absolutely no idea how to respond to any of this. Their muggle clothing/war uniforms were also heavily questioned as the two desperately tried to edge away from all of this nonsense. Finally, England had had enough, and grabbed France's gloved hand, dragging him away from all the nonsense that is Rita Skeeter and the press. Of course, various photographers snapped pictures of the two 'holding hands' and immediately entered it on the front page of the daily prophet; "Mysterious Wizard Arthur Kirkland opens Vault One" with "Dodges Press with Love Interest in tow" directly underneath it.
England didn't know who he wanted to strangle more at the moment; Rita Skeeter and the Daily Prophet for practically demanding an interview, France for simply coming along for the ride, or Dumbledore who had made France his assistant professor in his new Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He settled on France and sent him his signature 'I'll-kill-you-later-in-your-sleep' look. Albus chuckled at the now obvious rivalry between the two, then nearly did a double take at what he saw next. Was it just him, or did Professor Bonnefoy wink at Professor Kirkland. He smiled to himself as Kirkland confirmed what he had thought with a blush and an angry scowl. This could be an interesting school year. "Dumbledore, I thought the bloody frog was going to replace Binns?" Kirkland demanded. "Well, it seems Ms. Umbridge from the Ministry of Magic was assigned a roll as teacher. When she found out I had someone booked for Defense Against the Dark Arts, she decided to take Binns' place. I didn't want to have to choose between two people I had informed of getting a job, so I switched Mr. Bonnefoy to assistant professor." Arthur sighed before nodding his head in frustrated understanding. "Well, I had better go and get my classroom prepared ahead of time." With that being said, the frustrated Brit stormed out of the office with a flick of the cape he had worn over his muggle clothing, so similar to Snape that it wouldn't surprise Dumbledore if they were long lost brothers. He was about to take leave to speak with Hagrid when he noticed Francis still standing there, uncertainly. "Yes Mr. Bonnefoy?" The older (In appearance) wizard asked the young (can centuries count as 'young'?) wizard before him. "I've… known Monsieur Kirkland for a razzer long time. You see, he 'as zis… condition were he might end up… coughing up blood in dangerous amounts." Dumbledore blinked in surprise. Well that was new.
"I just zought you should know so zat not too much panic would ensue if he were to 'ave anozzer fit." Albus nodded, pleased to see that although they appeared to be rivals, he at least knew they cared about each other's well being. "I'll see the both of you on the first day of school, feel free to ride the Hogwarts Express here, the students shouldn't be that rowdy, but it would be nice to have an eye or two being kept on them." Francis nodded before rushing off to tell Arthur.
Arthur Kirkland (England) officially hated Dumbledore after finding out he would be babysitting students on a train. With the bloody FROG no less. He was currently looking out the window of the train where he could see parents saying their last minute goodbyes to their kids before they got on the train. It wouldn't be so bad if the darned frog hadn't fallen asleep on his shoulder in the most 'we're-a-couple' fashion possible! Eventually, the sound of the raindrops hitting the glass lulled the already weary professor into sleep, his head slumping to rest on top of Francis's.
"…and THAT is why fairies avoid people." Luna concluded as Neville, Ginny, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and herself headed to the back of the train in search of an empty compartment. All the others had filled up quickly and the six of them were forced to sit in the very last compartment available. They opened the door only to see a rather peculiar sight. Two men in muggle clothing were sleeping, leaning against each other in a way that practically screamed 'we're-a-couple'. The students awkwardly sat down around the two of them, glancing at them every now and then. Ginny opened her mouth to speak when the man with long blonde hair as well as slight stubble on his chin slowly opened his sparkling blue eyes, yawning slightly as he stretched. Still oblivious to the students he gently nudged the much shorter man's shoulder, murmuring sleepily "Angleterre, wake up. We can't be asleep when we arrive." To which the reply was a grumbled "Shut up, you bloody git…"
Hermione cleared her throat, finally catching the attention of both now conscious men. "Not to be rude, but who are you two?" The blue-eyed man, after fixing his obviously French clothes, put on a rather charming smile and stated "Professor Francis Bonnefoy, your new Defense Against ze Dark Arts teacher." He received shocked looks all around. "CO-teacher." The shorter man piped up, casting an annoyed glance towards Francis. "Actually, scratch that, ASSITANT professor. I'm the one who will be doing most of the teaching. Professor Arthur Kirkland, by the way." More shocked faces until Ron stupidly stated "Well, with our luck so far with DADA teachers, now we've got two people who'll try and kill Harry." Professor Bonnefoy went wide-eyed and Professor Kirkland… smiled. He then turned to glare at Harry, confusing the boy-who-lived. "Oh, I've heard all about you, Potter. All your little hero moments. Well, I'm not having it, not at all. I hereby BAN you from doing dangerous stupid things. No hero-ing on my watch." The wink plus the little smirk was all the signal they needed; giggles all around at Potter's embarrassment. Harry couldn't help but smile though, as he thought. Maybe this year's DADA won't be as bad as I thought…