The 200th Harry Potter/Hetalia crossover! I remember when it was less than 100 ;u;
I went to Harry Potter Studios with my cousins the other day, and had this mad idea...
Human AU
Warnings: mild swearing, boy x boy
Pairings: SuFin
The Finn at Hogwarts
Harry, Ron and Hermione stared unabashedly along with half of the Great Hall as a boy with a mop of blond hair tried to slip inside as discreetly as he could. Unfortunately for him, it was impossible, and as the huge doors shut with a loud clang and all eyes turned to him, the new boy blushed horribly and all but ran to sit at the end of the Gryffindor table.
"New kid's in Gryffindor," Ron mumbled through a mouthful of mashed potato.
"Swallow, then talk!" moaned Hermione, looked disgusted. "I suppose we should go and say hello to him. He's probably feeling quite out of place, joining so late."
However, after they were finished Dumbledore made his announcement about the Triwizard Tournament, and the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher made his dramatic entrance - they had just about forgotten the new boy. It was only when they found him dithering at the foot of the moving staircases that they realised he didn't know how to get to the Gryffindor common room.
From what they could see of the back of his head and neck, he had very fair skin – coupled with his head of pale hair, he looked a bit like a softer relative of Draco Malfoy.
"Excuse me," Harry said, tapping him on the arm. The new boy turned for face them.
The first thing Harry noticed was his eyes: vivid blue, with an almost purple tone to them, framed by pale eyelashes. Their brightness made him look very alert.
"Oh, hello there," he said, extending a hand to Harry, who had to hold back a laugh at his frankly ridiculous-sounding accent. Ron snorted rudely, and even Hermione was visibly taken aback (a change from her sulk about the discovery of house-elves in the kitchens). "I'm Tino."
"Um… Harry." Harry shook Tino's hand, trying not to grin. You could spread that accent on toast, that was how thick it was. "Potter," he added, a little uneasily.
Tino's blue-violet orbs shifted to Harry's forehead and back to his eyes in a split-second, but if he saw the scar underneath the black-haired boy's fringe he didn't show it. Instead he stood up, offered his hand to Ron and Hermione, who shook it in turn in a friendly enough manner – even though Ron's face was beginning to go red from holding back laughter.
"'Tino', where's that name from?" he asked in attempt to distract himself.
"I'm Finland born and raised," grinned Tino, seeming happy to be talking about his home country, "although to tell the truth, the name isn't too common there. In fact, it's weird…"
"But living in Scandinavia, weren't you accepted into Durmstrang?" Hermione inquired with a frown. "I thought that it catered for students all over mainland Europe, not only Norway and Sweden."
At the mention of Durmstrang, a shadow passed across Tino's face, darkening his eyes, but still he smiled, albeit uneasily.
"I attended Durmstrang, but I… wasn't particularly happy there. With some help from my friends, I sent my student file to Beauxbatons and Hogwarts in the hope that one of them would host me for a year as an exchange student –" Here his tone changed, becoming happier, " – and I was lucky enough that Professor Dumbledore allowed me to come!"
"Durmstrang's really dark," remarked Ron. "They practically train the kids as Death Eaters there."
"My best friends still go there!" Tino replied in a slightly annoyed tone, before conceding, "but I know what you mean."
"Excuse me!" came a loud, snobbish voice. "Sorry to break up the mother's meeting, but you're blocking the stairs."
"Oh, brilliant." Harry wanted to grind his teeth in irritation. "Trust Malfoy…"
"Who's Malfoy?" asked Tino.
"I think you'll find that I'm Malfoy." Draco sauntered up to the group with Crabbe and Goyle in tow. Their green ties and accessories marked them out as proud Slytherins. He sneered at Harry, Ron and Hermione before eyeing Tino. "And who are you?"
"I'm Tino," the Finn said, a little hesitatingly. "Nice to meet you, Malfoy." He offered his hand, only for the Slytherin to turn up his nose.
"I meant your surname, idiot! My first name's Draco." He rolled his eyes at his cronies, who laughed dully.
Tino flushed, but was then struck with an idea. Lips twitching upwards, he looked Malfoy straight in the eye and said, "Fine – I'm Väinämöinen," making sure to say it with his strongest Finnish accent.
"Vayna-what?" Malfoy tried to look like he couldn't care less, but his plan to embarrass Tino further had backfired. "Anyway, are you Pureblood?"
When Tino nodded, he continued, "What school did you come from?"
"What are you, the Spanish Inquisition?" interrupted Harry. "Why is Tino's background any of your business?"
"Shut it, Scarhead, this is between me and… him," Draco snapped back, gesturing at Tino irritably when he knew he couldn't say the Finn's surname without making a fool of himself.
"Durmstrang!" Tino said quickly, before the other two could start fighting – there was enmity between them, he could tell. "I came from Durmstrang."
Drace was now watching him suspiciously. "So if you're a Pureblood and from Durmstrang, why are you in Gryffindor?" He spat the house name as though it was something that left a bad taste in his mouth. Harry clenched his fists, hoping he wouldn't do something rash. Tino wasn't too familiar with the Hogwarts House rivalry, but he had a feeling that Slytherin and Gryffindor weren't the best of friends.
"Don't ask me," he shrugged. "That was all the talking hat said."
Obviously dissatisfied, Draco gave the group one final scathing look before shoving past them and striding up the stairs with an air of royalty about him, Crabbe and Goyle following like thick-skulled bodyguards.
"What a tosser," grumbled Ron. Harry nodded, and even straight-laced Hermione didn't object to Ron's use of language.
"I guess you guys aren't… friends?" Tino rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. After the very obvious display of dislike, Harry couldn't help but chuckle, and suddenly they were all laughing. Once they had gotten their breath back, Tino asked about the dormitories.
"Wait, how did you get Sorted if you weren't in the Sorting Ceremony?" asked Hermione as the group made their way to the Portrait Hole.
"I travelled by Floo to the Great Hall earlier, and was Sorted then. The Hat spent a while wondering whether I should go in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, and even asked me which I would prefer. I got lost on the way back from the bathrooms, which was why I was late for dinner…"
"Why did you choose Gryffindor?" asked Harry interestedly. "Just curious."
"Well… everyone knows that you're in Gryffindor, Harry," replied Tino, slightly embarrassed. "So it seems like a good House… but that wasn't it, of course!" he added quickly. "No, I just… I know people who would find the name Hufflepuff ridiculous," he finished, eyes downcast. "I have nothing against Hufflepuffs, but let's just say I have reasons for not wanting to sound… a certain way?"
Harry saw his confusion mirrored on his friends' faces, and wondered if Tino's English wasn't as good as it first seemed.
They got to the Common Room without any trouble, but before he went to bed, Tino insisted that he needed to write a letter.
"On his first night?" wondered Ron, as him and Harry settled into their beds. Neville was reading, and Dean and Seamus hadn't turned up yet. "Who does he have to write to already?"
"Family?" guessed Harry. "Friends back at Durmstrang?"
Meanwhile, Tino had just pulled out a quill and ink, and was writing Dear Berwald at the top of a roll of parchment.
One month later
Tino loved staying awake through the night on a Friday. After lessons finished, he would hurry to the bathrooms early to have a sauna before anyone else even thought about taking a shower. He had been ecstatic when he'd discovered the little sauna right at the back of the student bathrooms, complete with charmed bunches of birch wood that would swat his back for him! He sat in the steam for as long as he could before finishing with a jump into the icy plunge pool, and returned to the Gryffindor common room invigorated before finishing up as much weekend homework as he could. Then he would socialise. He hadn't made any best friends, but his sweet nature meant that he got on with most of his fellow Gryffindors.
Today was one such a day – it was nearly one in the morning, and everyone had drifted up to bed. Tino was snug in an armchair, reading a Finnish novel, soaking up the warmth of the embers in the fireplace. He often stayed awake until five or six in the morning, then slept until around ten. It was just something he liked to do…
BANG!
Tino screamed, and dropped his book. A figure was stumbling out of the fireplace!
"Tino?" croaked the figure, rubbing his glasses on the edge of his sweater. Tino's jaw dropped.
"Berwald? What are you doing here?"
Harry, who was never the heaviest sleeper, was woken up by a cry. Grabbing his glasses, he realised that nobody in his dorm was awake and that the sound had come from the common room. Jumping out of bed, he opened his dormitory door and stared.
Tino was standing in the middle of the room, staring at another person, his eyes so wide they looked like they were about to burst. The person had just Floo'd into the Gryffindor fireplace, a tall bespectacled blond with a fearsomely stern face.
"Berwald?" exclaimed Tino, and Harry remembered that he had a friend in Durmstrang named Berwald. He'd said he was tall and a bit scary, but Harry had passed it off as exaggeration… "What are you doing here?"
Berwald replied in a deep rumble of a foreign language, and when Tino replied he had switched too. If only Hermione were here, Harry mused, she could do some sort of translator spell. That was when he went to wake Ron, so that he could be sure he wasn't having a seriously weird dream.
"Had to see you," Berwald said, gazing at Tino. He spoke in Swedish, which Tino understood well enough, since he'd learnt it from the age of seven at his Muggle primary school. Quite frankly, Tino was surprised that Berwald had managed to get here, with his notoriously bad English diction. His Swedish was more eloquent, even though he was still quite short with his speech and never said ten words if two would suffice. No, never saying one word if a grunt or gesture would suffice. Berwald was more comfortable with his native language and the two could easily converse in it if the Swede didn't want to speak English.
"But – did you Floo here from Durmstrang?" Tino was utterly shocked. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought that his tall friend would suddenly pop up in his common room, and he'd had some pretty crazy dreams. Berwald nodded. "But why?"
"Missed you."
"You have other friends!" spluttered Tino, even though he was secretly pleased that Berwald liked him enough to travel all the way from Scandinavia. "Lukas and Mathias –"
"Mathias isn't my friend," Berwald said, a little sulkily. "And Lukas is cold."
"You've known them for longer than you've known me!"
"You're my best friend."
Tino had to blush at that. "Thanks, but that doesn't explain why you came! I mean, it's the middle of the night in Norway!"
"It's the middle of the night here."
"How did you know I would be awake?" demanded Tino.
"You told me in your letters." Berwald held his shorter friend's gaze coolly.
"There must be another reason," Tino insisted, crossing his arms. "A more important reason."
Berwald stared at Tino as he processed in his mind how the next sequence of events would go, and the Finn could practically see the cogs whirring between the Swede's aquamarine eyes.
"I have… a confession," mumbled Berwald, bowing his head.
"A confession? What, you spat in Mathias' drink again? You didn't need to come all the way to Scotland just to tell me that, because I saw you–"
"Tino, please." Seeing the seriousness on Berwald's face, Tino quieted down, frowning in confusion. What could he possibly be confessing?
"What d'you think they're saying?" whispered Ron. Him and Harry were peering around the edge of the door, watching the conversation uncomprehendingly. Luckily for them Tino hadn't noticed the door open and close as he panicked about the sudden appearance of his friend.
"No idea," shrugged Harry. "The other guy, Berwald? He looks like he's about to say something important."
"Harry, his face hasn't changed in expression since he popped out of the fireplace."
"True," admitted the black-haired boy.
"I – " Berwald shut his eyes, breathed deeply, and rushed out, "IthinkI'minlovewithyou."
"What?"
Instead of repeating himself, Berwald simply took Tino's face in his hands and kissed him.
"Bloody hell!" hissed Ron.
Despite himself, Tino found himself leaning into Berwald's warm body. He had never thought of himself as homosexual, but from the fuzzy feeling in his chest, Tino realised that he just might love Berwald. Resigning himself to the best kiss he had had in years (his first kiss had been very disappointing – a dare at a birthday party when he was eleven, with a rather boring girl), he wrapped his arms around Berwald's neck and kissed him back. It was only when the Swede's tongue slid effortlessly into his mouth that he realised that they were at school. And boy, was that a mood killer.
"Mm!" he grunted, pulling away. Damn, the kicked puppy expression in Berwald's eyes was almost enough to make Tino kiss him again, but he needed to focus. "How long have… how long have you…?"
"Since I first met you." Berwald's tone was straightforward, matter-of-fact.
"But that was over three years ago!" gasped Tino. Had Berwald been pining for him all this time? "I'm sorry!"
Berwald frowned, and from experience Tino knew that he was confused. "For not realising, I mean! I'm so sorry if I hurt you in any way during that time!"
"You didn't," Berwald lied. The beginning when Tino had shied away from his every look had been pretty painful, as had been the time where he had suddenly gotten very clingy to his Estonian friend. But Berwald had lived through that, with the knowledge that one day Tino would be his.
Suddenly realisation dawned on the Finn. "Is that why you always called me your wife?" he almost shouted, horrified. Berwald nodded. "I thought you were joking!"
He had been teased rotten about being called wife – part of the reason he didn't want to be in Hufflepuff. Tino didn't need to be thought of as any more fluffy, thank you very much.
"They're fighting already? I thought you had to be a couple for at least a few days before you argue!"
"Short honeymoon period," Harry mused. The couple before them exchanged a few more sentences before embracing again. "And short disagreements."
"You have to go back home," Tino murmured into the taller boy's shoulder. "The Floo network in the castle must be monitored."
"They would have noticed by now," responded Berwald, nuzzling Tino's soft hair, something he had fantasized about for a long time. But Tino was adamant; with one last hug, he let go of Berwald and shoved him towards the fireplace.
"I'll tell you what: I'll ask Professor Dumbledore if you can visit at Christmas." After all, Karkaroff had made it quite clear that he didn't want to lay eyes on Tino until next September after the Finnish boy had told him about his exchange trip.
"Christmas is too long," grumbled Berwald. "I miss you too much in four weeks. Christmas is two months away."
"You can deal with it! And I'll keep sending letters, of course. How about I send photographs too?"
Berwald stopped. "What kind of photographs?" he mumbled, all sorts of images popping into his mind. Tino flushed and punched his shoulder weakly.
"Not those type of photographs, you perv!" he cried. "Get back to Durmstrang!"
Finally accepting that he had to leave, Berwald swooped in for one last kiss before stepping into the grate, muttering a place name, throwing a handful of Floo powder and vanishing in a puff of green flames.
Tino stared at the grate for a good minute before collapsing back into his armchair, hands over his face.
Meanwhile, both Harry and Ron were at a loss for words.
"That was… unusual," Harry stated. Ron nodded silently. When Tino suddenly leapt up and made a beeline for the dormitories, face still flushed and muttering curses to himself, the best friends had to dive into their beds and pretend to be asleep as the Finn hurriedly undressed and got into his own bed. Even though he was speaking Finnish, there were two words that Harry kept hearing: Berwald and perkele.
One week later, at breakfast on Sunday morning, Tino was sitting with Harry, Ron and Hermione and telling them about a fight between two of his friends when they were first learning Charms at Durmstrang. Hermione had been sufficiently filled on the events of that interesting night – fortunately Tino had no idea that any of them knew.
"It turned out that the spell only went wrong because Berwald didn't say the words clearly enough, but of course –"
"His voice was pretty growly," Ron said unthinkingly, before his mouth snapped shut far too late.
"Ron!" Hermione hissed. Harry shut stared down at his bacon and eggs like they were the most unique he had ever seen.
Tino blinked at Ron for a few seconds before an expression of horror began to unravel across his face.
"What did you say?" he squeaked.
"Nothing!"
"You said that Berwald's voice – how did you hear Berwald's voice?"
"I was just… uh…" Ron was a hopeless liar. Tino blushed harder than it seemed physically possible, and his mouth hung open, opening and closing like a fish.
"Perkele," he breathed.
"Listen, Tino –" Harry cut in, trying to relieve his friend's distress, " – we did see you last Friday –"
"Wha-a-a-at?"
"But we don't think of you any differently because of it!" Harry said loudly over Tino's cry.
Steadily, Tino's face regained some of it's natural colour, but he still buried his face in his hands.
"I am so ashamed," he moaned. "I am so sorry you had to see that…"
"Don't be," said Hermione firmly, patting Tino on the back. "You're still the same person."
"Thanks for understanding." Tino lifted his head and smiled feebly at the trio.
Just at that moment, the owl post arrived, and what would happen to drop onto Tino's plate but a Howler?
"This is a very cruel joke," the Finn whispered, knowing that he had to open the thing before it tore itself out of the envelope. Gingerly, he picked it up between his thumb and forefinger and slit open the top. The letter immediately began to screech it's message, much to Tino's discomfort and the other students' amusement.
"HE-E-E-E-E-E-EY TINO!"
The voice echoing around the room was young, male, and accented.
"IT'S YOUR BEST FRIEND MATHIAS! YOU'RE ONLY SUPPOSED TO USE THESE FOR WHEN YOU'RE REALLY ANGRY WITH SOMEONE, SO I'LL SAY THIS FIRST: WHY THE HELL DID YOU ONLY INVITE LOSER BERWALD TO SCOTLAND INSTEAD OF ME AND LUKAS? NOT COOL! FREYR WANTS TO COME TOO, SO GET A ROOM FOR HIM TOO, 'CAUSE HE DOESN'T WANT TO SHARE WITH LUKAS!"
"Oh God," Tino whispered in an agonised tone.
"BUT ASIDE FROM THAT, I'M NOT ANGRY WITH YOU! YOU'RE STILL MY BEST FRIEND – WELL, LUKAS IS TOO, 'CAUSE HE GETS REALLY JEALOUS OTHERWISE – AND WE ALL MISS YOU! SEE YOU AT CHRISTMAS! OH, AND BERWALD SAYS JEG ELSKAR DIG!"
With that final phrase, the Howler burst into flames and the leftover ashes and tiny pieces of burnt paper sprinkled over Tino's head like so much grey confetti. The final echoes of 'jeg elskar dig' that reverberated around the Great Hall were drowned in the laughter of his fellow students. All Tino could do was brush the Howler residue out of his hair and wait for the laughter to end.
Once it had, Professor Dumbledore stood up.
"Mr. Väinämöinen," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "is there something that you may perhaps like to ask me?"
This could exist as a one-shot, but I might make it a two-shot if that's what people want. Tell me by review~!