A/N: So, just to say this. I'm not even halfway done cleaning up the cluster**** that was in the fic, but I thought you guys would be tired of waiting so I'm just reuploading chapter one earlier than planned. And because I received an anonymous review that I'm not sure to feel complimented or just weird about...? Meh, dunt matter.

Still, thanks to all those who liked Professors the first time around! I'm not really too efficient on replying to reviews last time, but I do read every one of them and I greatly appreciated them. Anyhoo, read!

There was an owl in front of him with a letter tied to its feet. The question of the century arose unbidden in front of the mysterious character's mind: To open or not to open?

The days were hectic, the nights blissfully warm inside his own cozy bed, alone because he was a strong independent nation and he don't need any man, and he had just moved all the important china down to the basement because America's visiting later. Magic was fun and real, but England wasn't sure if he wanted it part of his to-do list.

The owl cocked an eye at him. Oh, who was he kidding? England couldn't resist a magical creature if it came in the form of a zombie.

He tugged the letter off, carefully trying not to hurt the owl, and broke open the seal. It was from an old friend. Someone that he owed a debt to.

Dear Mr. Arthur Kirkland,

It has been a long time since we have met, the last time I fondly remember, and I suppose you would less than fondly recall, being when I helped you out of a particularly tight spot. I am not usually one for trade backs of favours- oh, let us not dance around each other. Of course I am. This is a chance for you to be out of my debt. It is a rather huge one, and one in which I am sure you will excel at.

I am pleased to invite you to the faculty of Hogwarts, the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the position of the professor of A History of Magic. Professor Binns has been convinced to take this year off, although I am sure that you would like to stay more than one year (which I will happily oblige).

Looking forward to your reply,

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts

P.S: I have already arranged your living arrangements.

That's just great. On top of the numerous paperwork his boss sent him, now he had to be a professor in a magical school.

OH DEAR LORD IS THIS A DREAM COME TRUE?

He had to get packing. He had to arrange for magical accommodations so that his government papers could be transported to him. He had to arrange for some sucker to come with him to Scotland and another sucker from his family to take his place in meetings.

Well, it was ridiculous of course, but since Dumbledore seems to be begging England supposed he should do the poor old man a favour and JUST GO TO A MAGIC SCHOOL MAGIC MAGIC MAGIC MAGIC!

England knew that he was important, deep down inside his heart. He just felt that no one else thought that.

The phone rang.

Did he want to pick it up? Yes, yes he did. He wanted to gloat to the world and shove the letter into their faces. Show them who's magical. Show them who's boss.

The receiver was now in his hands, he grunted a terse, "Who is this?"

"England aru!" It was China. "I've called to-"

England slammed the phone back down.

He strode back to his desk, fingering the letter in excitement. Obviously he couldn't teach two classes, this was some sort of secret indicator from Dumbledore. A sort of I might need your help, bring someone along.

The magical world's affairs did not usually give England too much of a headache. They were, after all, an underground society albeit one that is so entrenched in its own history it might even have had its own personality had that incident not have happened all those years ago. As it were, it became part of a nation's self. England always felt that his magical side was his pancreas and liver. He was pretty sure that Spain's was the tonsils, remembering the time when the idiot tried to have it burned out. Hah.

It never really mattered how bad things were on the magical side, as stated, they were only an underground society that slipped nearly every nations' mind.

Now then. Who to come with him?

The first person that popped up in England's head was the Frog. They weren't friends, they weren't enemies, but the Frog had always been a constant in his life. It was safe to say that they hated each other, in the same way two overcompetitive next door neighbours hated each other, but multiplied by ten and added by hundreds of years of blood. Unfortunately, the Frog was also the person closest to him, both on a physical level and a personal level. England groaned. This was why he's so pathetic.

No. Not the Frog. Not that slimy cretin who made his life so miserable.

The second person was America. His life was so horrible, England thought, that the first two people he could think about, ever, were among the two that annoyed him the most. They were like a trio, he set his eyes on a relatively new photograph of the three of them taken in Berlin after a stunning victory. Where France and Britain went, America followed. Where America and Britain went, France followed. Where America and France went, well, there's only so much derp and stupidity he could handle. It wasn't even on a conscious level. They were just so used to being the center of power…until one of them completely outstripped the other two. Even then, well, even now if England had to talk about friends, or the lack thereof, their faces would come floating into his treacherous mind.

Damn.

But no, not America. Poor child doesn't even have the magical sense of an ant. And that would be insulting the ant.

He needed someone he had something on. Not Norway nor Romania, no. They wouldn't accept it, not when they were fully aware of their own magical situations. Someone he wasn't really close to, but who he could cope with without pulling out half his hair. He glanced at the mail neatly sorted on his desk, and his eyes landed on an outlandish invitation decorated by way too many sparkles.

England, get your ass to the awesome UN SECURITY COUNCIL party! VIP members only! -United States of America aka Awesomeness

The UN Security Council. He mulled it over. Yes. He supposed that person would do. Then England banged his head on his desk and reached for his phone.

Ringalingling...

"Hello, China? I'm prepared to let you meet and interact with Hong Kong before the official date. But on one condition..."

Later that evening, Dumbledore received a letter.

Dear Headmaster,

I am happy to accept your invitation for the position of History of Magic and Muggle History teaching posts. But I have my conditions, two. One, that there be a new course for the Muggle Histories, and two, that my dear friend Yao Want teaches this. I back his credentials as an expert well versed in the histories of the world.

You do understand that I have a job outside of this, so a year off is all I can take. My day job is for life and my life, literal as that may sound.

Signed,

Arthur Kirkland