Hey everyone! This is a new Harry Potter and Hetalia crossover I'm starting. Since I'm so unreliable, I'm not sure if I'll ever finish it but I can try! It takes place during Harry's fifth year and England is going to be the History of Magic professor. I'm sorry if the characters seem a little OOC. I did my best, but character development isn't exactly my strong point so...we'll see. I'm also sorry if I copied any elements from other Harry Potter and Hetalia crossovers, it's sort of an unconscious thing. Pairings are possible but I'd prefer no FrUK, don't really like that one, sorry. Have fun reading!


Chapter 1: Magic is Suddenly Important

England sighed silently to himself as a sharp pain flashed through his heart. It felt like someone was sticking needles him in and then yanking them out. It had been getting a lot worse lately with the sudden return of Voldemort last month. What an awful surprise that had been. England had, just like every other wizard in his country, thought that Voldemort was dead and never to return again. But no, here was again and preparing to spread death and discord just like last time. Just like last time.

England shivered and unconsciously gripped his pen tighter. Now that had been an awful few years. He definitely didn't want a repeat.

England released a breath he didn't know he holding and focused his attention back on America at the podium. The idiot was rattling on about global warming of something and how, the epic hero, would totally save everybody and it would be awesome. England rolled his eyes sarcastically. How this guy was a world power, he didn't know.

"So then I'll come in and save everybody and it's all be good! Happy ending! Of course it'll be because I'm the hero and you guys can be my backup!" America chattered, pointing excitedly at was probably once an important data chart but now had a crude drawing of guy in a cape scribbled on it. "China, you be my backup!"

"Absolutely not, aru."

"Germany, you can be my backup too!"

"Nein."

"Italy, you can be my backup!"

"Ve~?"

"France..." England zoned out whatever America was saying as another pain flashed through his heart. This was one worse. England felt a blood rise in his throat and he forced it down. It wouldn't do him any good to throw up at a World Meeting.

A bit of blood slipped past his defenses and trickled from the corner of his mouth. England furiously rubbed it off ignoring the red stain the soaked into his glove. He could clean them later. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and he swallowed heavily again. His hand twitched slightly. Water. I need water.

England winced as a stomach heaved painfully. He wasn't quite sure what that meant for his country, but he was sure it wasn't good and probably had something to do with magic. Maybe he could ask Norway and Romania about it. Being magical countries like himself, they'd have to know something about this, maybe they'd even have a good remedy! Magic communities always seemed to affect a country more than the normal communities which was why England broke it off with the Ministry of Magic a while back but magic still affected him. Yeah, he should really-

"Yo, British dude! You listenin' to me?"

"Huh? America?" England blinked slightly and the noisy American waved his hand in front of his face.

"Woah, dude, you were like, waaay zoned out!" America said spreading his arms apart. "You weren't responding to me at all!"

"Oi, Angleterre, are you alright?" France asked, leaning closer. "You look bit sickly."

"Oh, I'm fine," England murmured, trying to avoid talking as to not spit blood everywhere. He didn't want the others worrying about him too much.

France sat back in his seat and folding his arms. "What, no sarcastic comments? No insults? No tsundereness? Are you really okay, Angleterre? I know that your economy's alright, I've seen the charts, so what is it?"

"I'm fine really, leave me alone," England snapped.

Some of the other countries had began to gather closer, wondering what was going on. They began to murmur to each other.

"What's with England?"

"He's being awfully subdued."

"Well, if you're fine, were having an after party later with just the G8!" America said happily. "You'd better come."

"Oui, it is being hosted by moi, so I don't want you skipping," France said.

"Ha, why would I ever want to come to party hosted by you?" England retorted weakly. He meant for the insult to come out scathingly but it ended up sounding like a reply rather than a retort.

Wow, I must be in worst condition that I thought if I can't even insult France properly, England thought to himself.

France frowned slightly and narrowed his eyes.

"Iggy...you sure you're okay? I don't want to be mean, but you really don't look great..." America leaned closer and stared him in the eyes. "You better not being lying to me. We're allies, remember?"

England leaned back nervously. He really didn't want America's help on this matter. The large nation knew next to nothing about magic and would only hinder rather than help. But if he knew that England was in a bad condition, he wouldn't leave him alone.

England's stomach heaved again and he felt blood rise up his throat for a third time. He quickly swallowed but some of it slipped past and down the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away quickly. England glanced down and caught slight of the reddish mark. He shoved his hands in his pockets so the other countries wouldn't see.

"Oh, I get it!" laughed France suddenly, clapping his hands together and smirking. "Angleterre was just drooling over Amérique and fighting his unrequited love!"

"Wha-!? No!?" snapped England, glaring daggers at the other country. "What the bloody fucking hell, you frog!?"

He opened his mouth to yell more but was cut off as his stomach heaved again. England quickly covered his mouth and sat back sharply to avoid throwing up. His condition was worsening. Voldemort must be on some sort of killing spree. I really want out of here. I can't keep up this healthy facade much longer.

Both America and France opened their mouths to say something but at that moment the bell that symboled for lunch break rang.

Thank god, breathed England to himself as he shot up from his chair and out the room calling, "Lunch break!" over his shoulder to the two dumbfounded nations. And with that he ran straight the bathroom with a new founded respect for the saying "saved by the bell".

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England felt much better after he had emptied his stomach. Of course, it had looked bad. Most of the stuff he had thrown up had been his blood and he still felt vaguely dizzy.

England washed out his mouth and sighed slightly. He glanced up at himself in the mirror. He looked better too. Some of the color had returned to his face and his emerald eyes had a bit more light to them.

England frowned suddenly as he felt his vision blur. Why are there two me's? he wondered vaguely before turning round and running right back into the toilet to throw up again. Pain stabbed his heart, much, much harder than before. He could feel the blood falling past his lips as his stomach heaved again. And again. And again.

"Voldemort must really be doing something bad," he whispered to himself. His voice came out rough and raw and he panted heavily to catch his breath. England groaned and clutched the cloth of his suit as more pain exploded in his heart. His people were dying, dying, and the murder kept going on.

England leaned against the wall of the bathroom stall to stabilize himself and let out a heavy breath. He felt slightly better and the color was returning to his face much more rapidly. England looked down at his hands. They were shaking a bit but it wasn't as bad as when he was getting sick.

Maybe Voldemort's killing spree is over? he though hopefully. He didn't hurt as much anymore and his heart rate was returning to normal. Even so, I don't think I want to stick around much longer. If the magic is effecting me this bad, then I should get back in my own country pronto.

The World Meeting had been held in France that year, something that England wasn't too pleased about.

England breathed in slowly and got up carefully. His legs still felt a little wobbly but it wasn't as bad as before. England glanced at his watch. It was well past the end of lunch break but he couldn't be bothered. I guess I'll just skip out on this meeting. It's not like anybody will really notice.

England look another deep breath and carefully walked out of the bathroom. He glanced around nervously to make sure that neither America nor France were around and then padded down the hall till he was outside of the office building the World Meeting was being held in.

The fresh air felt nice and it calmed his stomach a little. England pulled out his phone and checked the flight chart for the nearest airport in Paris, Charles de Gaulle Airport. There was a flight to London leaving in about 2 hours. Yes, he could catch that one.

England strutted forward and and let his thoughts wander. It had been absolute hell for him last time Voldemort has risen. He hadn't been able eat or drink anything for several years because he couldn't keep it down. England also was amazed that he hadn't died from blood loss, especially with the amount he threw up. The Ministry of Magic had been in turmoil the entire time and hadn't helped at all. After the famed Boy-Who-Lived defeated Voldemort, England had slowly begun to get better. He tried to cut off all ties with the wizarding world in hope that nothing like that would ever happen again, Norway suggested it. Norway's ideas involving magic were always good.

During the time that England was out, Scotland took his place in most of the political matters and represented The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Island in everything else needed. They had said the England was merely "involved elsewhere with a top secret project" for the time being and only Norway and Romania knew the truth. They assumed it worked because nobody really seemed to care. It wasn't like Scotland did much anyways.

England hailed a cab as he reached the road. "À l'aéroport , s'il vous plaît," (To the airport, please) he said to the driver as England stepped inside. The driver nodded and off they went. England relaxed against the seats and yawned sleepily. He felt much better now that he was on his way back to his country. He would probably have to get reacquainted with the wizard world of he actually wanted to be of some use this time around with Voldemort. Just waiting for someone else to do him in properly would not be worth the pain.

As England felt himself begin to doze off as the houses and people of Paris flashed by. Bunch of bloody Frenchies, he thought to himself. He wondered briefly if the others would care that he wasn't at the meeting but he doubted it. They wouldn't even notice he was missing.

England let his mind wander. He thought about something that he could do to help improve the Voldemort problem. One name kept reappearing.

Harry Potter...

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America frowned to himself as he looked out the window. The meeting has restarted half an hour ago and England still wasn't there. Ordinarily, this wouldn't have mattered very much, many of the smaller countries didn't bother coming to meetings at all, but England was really studious and America didn't think he had missed a meeting in his life. The island country had also looked pretty awful in the morning so America couldn't help but be worried about him. He had already sent England several texts but he wasn't responding.

"America, are you alright? You're unusually quiet." America glanced up to see Canada looking down at him, purple eyes wide with worry. He grinned.

"Hey Canada bro! When'd you get here?" America asked, leaning on his hand.

Canada sighed. "I've been here the whole time. Really, brother."

America laughed. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just wondering where England was. He hasn't shown up."

Canada frowned thoughtfully. "I don't where he is. He was here this morning..."

"Hey!" America and Canada looked over at Germany as he slammed his hand down on the table. Italy had been presenting his speech (it was about politics but had continuous, subtle hints about the brilliance of pasta) and Germany looked annoyed that they weren't playing attention. "America and...whoever the hell you are, stop talking!"

America rolled his eyes and snapped, "hey! I'm the hero, you can't tell me what to do!"

This instigated Germany to growl a retort and in turn a full out arguing match between all the countries. France looked rather lost without England to yell at.

England... though America as he dodged a bullet from Switzerland's ever present gun. What are you hiding?

[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{} Much later, after G8 party

America sat on a bench in a park in Paris and stared up at the black night sky. He couldn't see anything, what with the lights from the city interfering, but in his half drunk state he thought that the sky looked beautiful anyways.

England hadn't shown up. America felt really disappointed at this because he had said that he would. And England never turned down drinking. Ever. It just wasn't right! Where the hell was England and why did he just walk out of the World Meeting?

America sighed as he felt a vibration in his left pocket. He fished out his cell phone glanced blearily at the text he had just received. It was France. Were r u? We're doing fireworks now.

America perked up considerably at this. Fireworks, especially red, white, and blue ones, were some of his favorite things. He hopped from his seat and trotted along a lamp-lit path to the clearing where the G8 (well, there were only seven currently) were holding their party, courtesy of France.

America grinned to himself. Ah well, he'd go Iggy-hunting later.

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England smiled to himself as he unlocked the door to his large house in London. He was feeling much better now that he was home and Voldemort seemed to have stopped killing for the time being.

The plane ride from France hadn't been long, but it had given him plenty of time to think about what he wanted to do about the whole Voldemort situation and now he had a plan. England knew, from what the last Minister of Magic had told him, that there was a prophecy saying that Harry Potter would be the one to defeat Voldemort in the end. That meant the boy had to be protected, so, hence he came up with the idea to get a teaching job at Hogwarts, England's magic school. Actually, it was in Scotland but most of the students were British. A job at the school would also be good because he could safely watch the comings and goings of the wizarding world. There was also Dumbledore, who always seemed to know stuff he shouldn't, who could be a great help.

The next part of his plan was simple; he had to disappear. Not literally, of course and he couldn't just jump off the map, he was a country! But, he needed the other countries to stay out of his way for bit of he wanted this to work. Knowing them, and especially America, they would probably want to help and because of their lack of magical power, they really wouldn't be able to do much. Hogwarts wasn't locatable (neither was most of the magical community) so he shouldn't have a very hard time staying out of their way. And Scotland could take his place in all the important stuff, just like last time Voldemort was on the rise.

Well, there was his condition, and if Voldemort decided to go on a killing spree again, that would a problem, though England thought he could deal with it. Maybe he could say that he had some sort of intestinal disease that came up once in while. That would make a good excuse, he thought.

England smirked as he walked into his house. He was feeling immensely pleased with himself for thinking up such an ingenious plan.

England put down his bag and picked up his schedule for the next few weeks. He had few meetings that he was supposed to go to, but they could be easily canceled. Sure, his boss was going to be mad at him, but England could deal with that. Anyways, he deserved a few years off.

England flipped through a pages. Nothing really important except for the G8 meeting which was in two weeks. He would deal with this later. For now, he had concentrate on convincing Scotland to help him. England sighed and then picked up his cell phone and frowned. He a ton of texts and several missed calls from America. England idly flipped through the stuff and his frown deepened. All consisted of a similar message.

Iggy, were u go?

Hey, the meeting started. Where r u?

Com back. We cant start without u.

Srsly, were r u?

England smiled softly. He hadn't realized America cared so much. It made him feel slightly guilty for disappearing on him but there were more important matters than America at the moment. England scrolled into his contacts and selected Scotland. He wasn't entirely sure if his brother would answer, they weren't on the best of terms nowadays, what with Scotland demanding his independence and all, but he still hoped his brother would help.

The phone rang three times before Scotland picked up. "What?" he snapped.

"Hey Scotland, it's England," England said.

"I know," Scotland said. "What do ye want, little brother?"

England frowned. Well, at least Scotland was listening to him. "I need your help."

"I don't particularly feel like giving ye it," Scotland growled.

England narrowed his eyes slightly. "This had to do with Voldemort." He could practically feel Scotland's surprise.

"What?"

"Yeah, I know. Apparently he wasn't as gone as we thought. He came back and I've been getting sick again."

"What?"

"Speak intelligently, brother, I know you can," England snapped. "I need you to cover for me. This time I'm going to do something about Voldy personally."

There was long pause. Finally Scotland spoke, "Alright little brother, I'll help ye on this. But you owe me. Big time. I'll go to the next G8 meeting for you. When is it?"

England sighed in relief. "Thanks Scot. This really means a lot to me." His voice took on a business like tone. "The next G8 meeting is in two weeks, in New York. I'll send you the travel information later."

"Yeah, yeah," sighed Scotland. "Just remember, you owe me big time for this."

"Thanks. Oh, and don't tell the others were I've gone. They'll just be nuisance."

" 'Kay," agreed Scotland. "I'm hanging up now. Bye little brother."

"Bye." England couldn't stop the grin that split his face. So far everything was going well.

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Three hours later England had pretty much managed to tie up all the loose ends for his departure. As he had expected, his boss was pissed but he couldn't really do anything to stop England.

England smiled with a newfound determination as he pulled his old green cloak and picked up his wand. England hadn't used his wand in long, long time. It was made of Weinmannia spiraeoides, a type of flowering plant that went extinct back in the 1800's and was around 14 inches. The core was dual, angel feather and hair from a banshee. Both were irregular cores and not commonly used.

England tucked his wand in his pocket with the key to his Gringotts vault and his cell phone. He had turned it off, he didn't what it ringing in around wizards, but since he was nation he was required to have it with him even if technology didn't usually work in magical places.

Finally, England grabbed a small vial that contained a green powder. Floo powder, which he could use to teleport to Diagon Alley. That's where England decided it would be the best place to get reacquainted with the wizarding world.

"Oh, wait," England muttered to himself as he was about to throw the Floo powder into the small, crackling fireplace in his living room. "I need to write to Dumbledore about a teaching position."

England placed the vial of Floo powder back on his desk and sat down. Digging around in the drawers for a minutes, England found what he was looking for. A small silver key with a tiny model broomstick was tied to it with string. England placed the carefully into the lowest drawer on his desk, the only one with a lock, and turned it. The drawer clicked and opened. Inside there was a few quills, roles of parchment, and two bottles of ink. England selected a piece of parchment, a quill and one of the ink bottles. He dipped a quill into the ink and began to write.

Dear Albus Dumbledore,

My name is Arthur Kirkland and I would like to apply for a teaching position at Hogwarts. It has come to my attention that there are several vacant options this year and I am comfortable teaching any position. All other personal info is attached in my résumé. Please consider me for the job.

Sincerely, Arthur Kirkland.

England frowned slightly at the letter. It was short and he had no idea of this was the correct way to apply for job. Ah well, he'd find out eventually.

England leaned back down and dug out his old wizard résumé from under a pile of unused parchment. He skimmed over it quickly, changing dates here and there to make it more believable. He sighed slightly and sat back, the tucked the letter and his wizarding résumé in a pocket in his robe. He'd have to remember to buy an owl later to send it.

England stood up and grabbed the vial of Floo powder on his desk. He briefly considered apperating instead, but he wasn't entirely sure were Diagon Alley was anymore. So, Floo powder it was.

England threw a small handful of Floo powder in the fireplace. As the flames flickered green, he stepped into them and shouted, "Diagon Alley!"

There was a whooshing sound and England was off the see the wizards.


Yay, first chapter done! Please review, I need to know whether or not I should continue.