This is a one-shot that starts off serious and ends up hilarious. This isn't meant to be taken seriously, but it's pretty funny. I think. I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter.
Alfred has had it. It was all the British Wizards' faults. The older nation of England was currently confined to a bed with several nations looking after him, including Francis and Matthew, as well as Alfred, but today, he was finally going to do something about it.
He grabbed two guns-a main one and a backup one. He made sure to stock up on plenty of bullets. Oh, how he wanted to castrate the England's tormentor so much! Alfred took a spare old military outfit. He didn't want his usual one to get dirty with blood.
He looked up at the cloudy sky and snorted. "How fitting," he muttered, walking to the supposed place where Lord Voldemort was. "Malfoy Manor? Such an unheroic place. Reminds me too much of that one mansion where that monster lives," Alfred muttered, staring at the home.
He marched right up to the gate and bent the bars to let himself though. "Dang, Artie's right. I need to be skinnier if I plan to do something similar to this again," Alfred groaned. Hopefully, no one would notice him until he kicked the front door down.
Alfred raised an eyebrow as he saw a white peacock strut over to him. "You've got to be kidding me," he deadpanned. "I think I'll classify you with Gilbert now."
He then proceeded to the front door, smirking as he cracked his knuckles. Oh, how fun this would be! He drew back his fist before thrusting it forward, shattering the door. Alfred cocked his head sideways and groaned. "Oh, fuck. I was supposed to KICK it down, not break it. Well, whatever," he shrugged, stepping over the remnants of the mahogany door.
He didn't seem to realize that he stumbled into the dining room by accident, and there were already some very shocked and furious people in the room as he tried to repair the door.
"Who are you? How did you find this place?!" A man dressed in black robes snapped at the intruding nation.
Alfred rolled his eyes as he leaned against the wall. "The name's Alfred F. Jones, peeps. Wasn't too hard to find this place since the same rules don't apply to me. You can't do shit though, now that I'm here." He cocked his gun and gazed around the room, eyes finally landing on a snake-like man that had a...snake sleeping on his shoulders.
"Oi, you over there! Are you the villain called Lord Voldemort?" He called.
The man twitched. "Yes, but I prefer-"
"What the hell is with your name dude?! Flight from Death? Really? Your mom is really weird! But then again, all British people are. But I think that the accent's kind of sexy. Except your voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard," Alfred added, deciding to put his gun away.
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort yelled. Alfred blinked as a green jet of light was sent his way. He was confused when it didn't do anything when it touched him.
"Was that supposed to kill me? You suck badly, bitch!" Alfred laughed. "I honestly thought you were like Russia, but apparently no! Let the hero show you how you take people down!" In a flash, the American knocked out all of his Death Eaters and taken all of their wands, leaving just Voldemort.
Voldemort began to sweat. WHAT was this man? "What do you hope to accomplish?" He asked.
"Eradicating you from the face of this planet and making Iggy mine!" Alfred grinned. He tilted his head sideways and grabbed a random wand. "I think one of the spells was this: Bombarda Maxima!" He shouted, pointing the wand at Voldemort. This made the man slam into the wall about 20 feet away.
Voldemort groaned. He was thankful that he still had his wand and cast a cushioning charm just in time. "What can I do to make you stop?"
"Eh, give a proper apology to Harry Potter and turn yourself in so the Wizarding cops can take you to jail," Alfred answered casually, "or else I'm going to make your life hell by being even more obnoxious than I am now. Ooh! And if you said 'Fuck you' I'mma see if I can do that to YOU and see how British dudes do IT. I haven't done it with Iggy yet, but I want to make sure that if he gets pregnant, there's help available!"
Voldemort blanched, paling. 'Wow, he looks like a vampire now. Not even close to Romania though...' Alfred thought, taking out his gun again.
"Alright, alright! I'll do it!" The Dark Lord screamed.
"Good boy," Alfred laughed, grabbing the man's arm and teleporting him to the Minister of Magic's office.
The young superpower grinned. "Yo, Fudge dude. This is Voldemort, and I was the hero!" With that, he teleported somewhere else.
There was silence for a moment then, "What the hell?"
Voldemort groaned. "I promise I won't be a Dark Lord anymore. I even apologize to Harry Potter and the old coot, Dumbledore. Just don't let that man near me ever again!" He exclaimed hysterically.
The next day, The Daily Prophet read: "Dark Lord Apologizes! New Savior!"
Harry gaped. "This...isn't serious, is it?"
"Afraid so mate. Dad says it's true," Ron responded between bites of breakfast.
Hermione grinned. "That means you won't die, Harry! We owe a lot to that American... I wonder what he's doing now," she mused.
Meanwhile, in an American hotel room...
"Harder, Arthur!" Alfred screamed.
Arthur moaned. "So good..."
The child listening outside frowned. "What the hell is the British jerk doing?!" His eyes widened. "No, that's not possible! But Papa and Dad are together..." He shivered and rocked back and forth. Yup, he was definitely mentally scarred.