Despite not being a couple, Alfred and Matthew will often fall into stereotypical 'husband and wife/mother and father' roles that will be the victim of much mockery later on. This not meant to be a way of undermining the two.

Also, because the idea often annoys me in HP fanfics where Harry is raised by someone other than the Dursleys, Drake will not be super powered and smart just because he was raised by some nations. Due to Alfred being one of the parents, it might be the opposite in the intelligence department.


The next five years passed eventfully for the new, highly unexpected family, though all that happened is not important at the time. But it should first be known that it had taken over a year to crack through the boy's haughty shell, but Alfred and Matthew knew that they were doing the right thing by teaching him everything his real parents had failed to. He turned into quite the charming boy, quirky and a little panicky.

Eventually, even Drake's tales of wizards and witches subsided, but they knew he hadn't fully forgotten or abandoned the tales that he believed in, since he occasionally called Matthew and Alfred muggles in times of annoyance or endearment. As well, the pages of the sketchbooks they got him often contained wondrous drawings of clearly mythological creatures. And how could they forget the crudely drawn 'Adventures of Lucy the Very Bad Wizard'?

But he never showed these drawings or mentioned his past to anyone but his adoptive parents, and he most certainly would never show them to Arthur, who could possibly make the connection quickly. Alfred had been worrisome for the longest time that meeting Arthur would only cause problems and would destroy all his and Matthew's hard work, and that Arthur would entertain Drake's thoughts of magic, or even take him away from them. But it hadn't happened, as Drake was careful with what he said or did around the English nation, even hiding his accent until the strange mixture of Alfred and Matthew's became his norm. Drake didn't want to go back anymore, and neither nation ever wanted him to leave.

(Arthur never mentioned to them that he knew from the moment he saw the boy who he really was. It would be unreal for him to not recognize one of his own citizens)

Drake's existence had been revealed to the other nations when he was seven, after he'd snuck into the meeting with the slightly annoying but cute micronation that would become his best friend. After he had finally been introduced, most of the world gained a bit more respect for Alfred, realizing that while he couldn't control world affairs or even his own, he could somehow take care of a child without killing it. Matthew was forgotten in the matter, of course.

Drake had taken the news of what his guardians and their friends were quite well when he found out. When Alfred and Matthew had told him one day, shortly after the world meeting, he'd given it some consideration, before shrugging and going back to drawing in the snow. He'd always known something was very off about them, so it didn't surprise him that much.

Probably the most interesting thing that happened took place over a few years time. Drake came to dislike his father for making him believe in all the things he had thought to be the truth. He now knew that not all Muggles were evil, though it had taken well over the first year for that to reach those morals, due to his lack of direct interaction with people other than Alfred and Matthew, and one other person very briefly. For some reason, he believed that they were the only good Muggles in the world.

Now, he truly hated the word Mudblood. He now realized that the blood of Muggleborns were just the same as any other wizard. As any human! All humans were the same, and most deserved respect. They could all get along if they tried, even Wizards and Muggles. It had been Matthew and Alfred who put the on-set of those morals into him, but he had come to many of those conclusions on his own. He doubted anyone in the wizarding world would have ever done that for him.

He didn't miss the Wizarding World.

All in all, life was good.


A week before the anniversary of the day Matthew and Alfred found him alone on that corner, an actually celebrated day, Drake opened his silver eyes to the early afternoon, finally judging himself ready to get out of bed after the long night up watching anime. He'd been dozing for longer than he could be sure, and the fogginess had mostly fallen away from his mind as he pulled himself up, though lingering thoughts of his day dream remained. Reaching over beside him, Drake retrieved his sunglasses, a small pair that had been gift from one of his many uncles.

Out of a years old habit, he also grabbed a pre-filled spray bottle from the side table before placing his bare feet on the floor. It was his way of fighting off the joke attacks his new family often tried on him. He could never tell when Alfred, or any of his family, would try and strike. He'd been caught off guard so many times in the past that he had become a little paranoid. Alfred said that it kept him alert and ready to defend himself in case of attack by burglars, terrorists, or the British. While it was working, it was also quite aggravating.

Once he was sure that no one was under the bed Drake smiled and practically skipped out of the room, holding the spray bottle like he held a loaded gun. He checked every corner before he turned, spraying down the hallway and seeing if anyone made a sound, until he finally made it to the kitchen. The smell of pancakes, good morning, day or night, travelled up his nose, and he sighed happily.

Matthew stood at the stove, having been alone in the kitchen since Alfred had left to deal with some minor issues in Washington. Humming to himself the Canadian national anthem, he placed another pancake onto a pile of extra ones left over from his lunch, just in case Drake had wanted some. That would be the last one for that particular batch. As Drake sat down at the table, playing with his long spiky hair, Matthew turned around to smile at him.

"Mornin'" Matthew said with joy in his eyes. Drake smiled back at him. "Want these pancakes? I made too much batter, and Alfred's not here to eat the extra ones. Meeting with the boss and all..." Drake remembered Alfred mentioning that meeting the night before, so he wasn't surprised. He chose to ignore the fact that Matthew was lying about making too much batter. There could never be too much pancakes when it came to Matthew Williams.

"Of course I'll take the pancakes!" He said cheerfully, his stomach growling. As Matthew brought the plate over to the table, Drake went to the fridge and grabbed out, not maple syrup like Matthew would have wanted, but raspberry jam. Drake didn't like syrup – Maple or fake – all that much, which horrified Matthew. But they had eventually agreed to never bring it up. That is, not often.

"Every single province and territory..." Matthew said loud enough for it to not just be a simple lament, shaking his head, as Drake returned to the table. "They all love syrup on their pancakes." Drake rolled his eyes, not wanting to bring that up. He opened the jar in a mocking fashion, and smirked at his 'Alfred-dubbed' mother. He certainly looked like a housewife wearing that apron, with a bandanna holding back all his hair except for his stubborn curl, that was affectionately called Nespey.

"I'm not like your brothers, and most certainly not like your sisters. Anyways, I'm American." Drake stated frankly as he spread the jam on the first pancake. Matthew chuckled, and shook his head once more. He always saw more of America's influence in Drake than his own. It wasn't even a lack of him being around, since Matthew had actually moved in with Alfred just so they could raise Drake together, and that had made quite a few people back in Canada a little more than angry.

"And when you get sick, you're Canadian. Pick a side." Matthew retorted, with a laugh at the end, pushing the thoughts of his angry friends away.

"Never." Drake laughed himself, and continued along with preparing his pancakes. "And you should be glad I'm not anything like the provinces, territories, or especially the states. Owen's a self-centred asshole, Olivier-Louis is immature and insane, Jet is too obsessed with her appearance, Edward thinks that he has the ability to function like a normal adult..." Matthew listened to every word, drumming his fingers on the wooden table as his son spoke.

"And you're nothing like that?" Matthew asked. Drake put his hands up defensively and giggled. Oh, if Lucius could see him now.

Their next bouts of laughter were cut short by a tapping at the window. Both looked at the source in confusion, and they were surprised to see it was an owl pecking at the window. While Matthew got up to see if there was a reason (maybe the owl had gotten caught on something, eh?), Drake's confusion quickly subsided when he realized what it was all about. Somehow, despite the three living across the pond, an owl from the UK had found him. He should have known that somehow he'd be forced back into the wizarding world. He didn't even have to see the letter to know what it was. He'd recently turned eleven. He was already constructing a rejection letter to Hogwarts.

Then he realized, that by rejecting them, they'd know he was still around. Lucius had once explained to him that the letters wrote themselves, based on a list, so no one yet knew that he'd been sent a letter. He couldn't just ignore it though, he though solemnly, as he also knew what would happen then. That was why he didn't stop Matthew as the Canadian opened the window to see what was wrong with the bird, unintentionally letting it in. Matthew let out a cry of surprise as the owl flew towards Drake. He had to let this happen, lest it only cause trouble latter.

That didn't mean that he wasn't going to squirt the owl in the face with his spray bottle.

The poor bird might not've had anything to do with the situation, and it was never good to be cruel to animals, but he was sort of pissed off. He didn't want to go back to the world of magic.

As the owl squawked over being sprayed in the face, Drake picked up the letter that it had dropped with mild interest. Matthew eyed him only briefly, before attempting to get the bird back outside, a hockey stick conveniently making it into his hands. There had been no hockey stick in the room before then. Drake had stopped noticing these things, and even if he was concerned, he was more set on getting the letter opening done. He broke the wax seal, and quickly skimmed the letter.

Drake had always been told as a young boy that receiving his Hogwarts letter would be the most joyous moment of his younger years, but all he felt then was disgust. Would it really be as simple as that? Going back to the Wizarding World and having his parents use all their power to gain custody of him again? The thought of them left a bad taste in Drake's mouth. While he wouldn't mind seeing his mother again, if he had to see his father's ugly mug, he would scream. Voldemort would probably be preferable over his father.

He scanned the letter over again, and it seeming so innocent and unassuming, like it didn't know it was ruining his life. It was currently the bane of his existence, and he really wanted to ignore it. He could take his chances and send back a rejection letter, even if it could spark an investigation; an investigation his parents would hire someone to lead, but not out of care for him. If he decided to go , he would be forever hounded by all of those that knew of his disappearance.

Either way, it didn't look at all good for him. "Fuck…" He muttered to himself, before going off into a string of Quebecois sacres.

This was not good…

"Drake. What did I tell you about repeating what Olivier-Louis taught you in an attempt to spite me?" Matthew asked, walking back over to the table in curiosity, with the owl strangely sitting on his shoulder. Drake looked up in surprise, having forgotten that Matthew was there. His guardian eyed the letter and the owl that he'd obviously made peace with, somehow. "So what's that letter about?"

Drake honestly didn't know what he could tell him. He'd always assumed Matthew was like Alfred, denying magic like it was the plague. To suddenly spring this upon him, after they'd all agreed to never bring it up again, seemed wrong. But Matthew's gazed, turned worrisome, made Drake tell him then, instead of springing it on him later. He saw it as the right thing to do.

"Well, you know all that magic I used to talk about?" He asked hesitantly, fingering the letter and shifting his gaze. Quickly, Drake spoke. "Well, it really is real and I know you don't believe in it, but you've got too since my old world will be hounding me soon, no matter what I do, and you and Alfred will be in the middle of it! It might be hard to believe but-" Matthew hushed him, smiling.

"I am well aware of magic, Drake." The blond haired boy gaped. Why hadn't Matthew said this before? "Alfred on the other hand, has never really had a grasp of it. I don't even think he's capable of it. I, on the other hand, well, how else have you been explaining Kumajirou?" He laughed to himself, before holding his hand out for the letter. With shaking hands, Drake gave it to him, before falling into a mental rant.

All those years that Matthew laughed at him for believing in magic had hopefully been as a rouse for Alfred. He didn't want to think that Matthew had actually been laughing at him. Again, why hadn't Matthew brought magic up beforehand? They had plenty time alone together, away from Alfred, if that was what Matthew had been worried about. Rationality told him that it was probably because Matthew wanted him to have a normal life, and that was a pleasing enough answer.

"Eh," Matthew tapped that parchment. "So this Hogwarts, I guess it's a magic school?" Drake nodded. Matthew scanned it over again. "I guess it must also be in the UK." He placed it down on the table, obviously displeased. "Drake, eat your pancakes while I think this over, and do a little research on this Hogwarts. And we'll talk about my knowledge of magic later, kay?" After a few moments, Drake broke eye contact with Matthew and reached for his fork and knive. The pancakes had cooled much during the letter fiasco. It didn't really matter to him though.

As Matthew walked out of the kitchen, a pained look on his face and the owl still on his shoulder, Drake started to really consider Hogwarts, and not the public's reaction to his return. He could learn to control his accidental bouts of magic, which Alfred was running out of reasonable explanations for, and learn new magic! But that seemed to be the only good thing.

And people! He'd have to deal with other humans, and not the countries, provinces, territories, states and other personifications he had come to love, and hate in the case of a few of them. He wasn't sure if he would be able to handle it.


There's still a bit to go before Drake prepares for Hogwarts. Alfred has to make a international crisis over the letter, after all.