Title: Burn It Down
Author: Mon Petit Pierrot
Fandoms: Hetalia: Axis Powers / Harry Potter (#5)
Rating: T (for safety)
Summary: The nations are recruited to protect one Harry Potter from the dark forces surrounding Hogwarts. That is, if they don't kill each other first.
Warnings: slight crack, parody, rated T for safety, not to be taken seriously.

Pairings: America/England, Spain/Romano, Germany/Italy, Russia/China, Austria/Switzerland, Prussia/Canada

Note: Wow this took forever to write. It took me 2 revisions to be sastified with it, but even then I'm not entirely sastified with it. This chapter was an attempt to get myself to write the rest of the next chapter for my other Hetalia story, which is polar opposite of this one. Grr...but I'm about a quarter of the way... So anyway, it's a little shorter than the first chapter but this time there's translations to go along with it! So please let me know what you think!

THANK YOU'S TO: wolfxcall, irishmandude, Yancha Kitsune, summasaur, shinigamikarasu, Giant-Rubber-Duck, wolfspeaker01, IReadFanficsOnly, and vine.

- Burn It Down -

Chapter 2

"I see you've met the recent nutters that have joined us, Harry!" an orange-haired Weasley twin said brightly.

"Though it shouldn't be hard, knowing the company you've put up all these years," the other twin said in the same tone.

England sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. "That's enough, you bloody prats."

"Why can't you ever address us by name?"

"Because I haven't the patience for your bloody games!"

"What games, sir England?"

"Might you enlighten us?"

"Or just curse at us all day?"

"I say he's off his rocker."

"Indeed."

"You're both bloody wankers, you know that?" England grumbled irritably. "I really don't see how your mother can put up with the pair of you."

"Do you think you speak good old plain English?" America whined suddenly, taking a huge bite out of his burger as he gestured wildly with his other hand. "I can never understand what the hell you Brits are saying! And to think I was raised by you for over a century, Iggy!"

"And I say stop butchering the bloody English language! And I told you to stop calling me that!"

"But…but…Igggggggggggggggggggggggy…."

"NO!"

"Fun, da?" Russia asked cheerfully to the room in general, still somehow smiling like a child. "Oh!" the tall Nation exclaimed suddenly, as though he had just remembered something. He sidled closer to Harry and bent down so that he could meet his eyes. "You haven't answered me, little Harry. We shall become friends, da?"

"Huh?" Harry was flabbergasted. "Uh, well, I suppose that since I will be seeing all of you this year, I might as well."

"Отлично."

Harry blinked, confused, at the jumble of sounds and smiled weakly.

The door slammed open and a voice filled with irritation growled, "Dinner's ready, bastardi!" Harry turned to see a short, dark brown-haired boy with an odd curl to the side of his head and fierce amber eyes glaring at the occupants of the room. "Cosa?" he snapped. "Non hai capito?"

"Dude," America said calmly as he carefully wrapped his burger, "speak English, will you?"

"Fottiti bastardo Americano!" And with that, the man turned around and stormed from the room.

England sighed. "Meet Romano, Harry."

"Romanito? Where are you going?" a voice called out from the hall.

"Sta'zitto bastardo pomodoro!"

A second man popped his head in, smiling apologetically. "Lo siento, mi amigos. Romano is in a bit of a bad mood today."

"I wonder why," England said dryly, smirking a bit. "Good luck with that one."

The man laughed, and then blinked when he saw Harry, the smile slipping from his face for a moment before coming back full force as he came into the room. "Hola! I don't believe I've met you yet! I'm Spain!"

Spain was revealed to be a slightly taller man with scruffy brown hair and bright emerald eyes. Harry stared at him apprehensively, unsure of what to expect from this other Nation person.

"You must be Harry, si?" Spain chattered, shaking his hand enthusiastically. "It's nice to finally meet you! Ah! I'm sorry I have to cut this introduction short, mi amigo, but I have to go find Romanito and make sure he doesn't break anything! Adios!"

"This is the strangest summer," Harry said once Spain had practically skipped from the room, calling out for Romano as if it was some sort of game.

America laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Just so you know, Romano only speaks in Italian when he's pissed off. Great entertainment, I might add."

England sighed again and explained, "He's been having a tiff with Germany since before World War II, I think. From what I understand, it has something to do with his younger brother still being allies with Germany."

"I…don't think I've heard of a country called Romano," Harry said hesitantly.

"That's because his official country name is Italy Romano," America said in a lecturing sort of voice. "Or South Italy, to be more formal. His younger brother is North Italy, but we just call him Italy."

"Now we eat, da?" Russia said, leading the way out of the room.

"Yep!" America chirped happily. "I hope Romano didn't try to poison it again!"

Harry blanched.

"Ciao! Ve~ You must be Harry, si? Of course you are! No one else would make such a fuss, si si? So how are you, huh? Are you well? I sure hope so! Oh, are you hungry? You want some pasta? Of course you do! I made some especially for you, il mio amico!"

"Uh…" Harry was at a complete loss for words. "You're Italy?"

"Si! That's me, ve~!"

"Italy!" a stern-looking blond said. "Be quiet, would you?"

"OKAY! You want some pasta, si?"

"Oi! Stupido fratellino, would you shut the hell up!" Romano yelled.

"I hate to say it, but I have to agree with your brother, Italy," the blond said.

"YOU TOO POTATO BASTARD!"

"Ve~"

Sometimes Harry wondered about the sanity of the world.

Translations:

Отлично – excellent (Russian)

Bastardi – bastards (Italian)

Cosa? – What? (Italian)

Non hai capito? – Did you not hear me? (Italian)

Fottiti bastardo Americano! – Fuck you American bastard! (Italian)

Sta'zitto bastardo pomodoro – Shut the fuck up tomato bastard (Italian)

Lo siento – I'm sorry (Spanish)

Mi amigos – My friends (Spanish)

Hola – hello (Spanish)

Si – yes (Spanish)

Adios – bye (Spanish)

Ciao – hello (Italian)

Si – yes (Italian)

Il mio amico – my friend (Italian)

Stupido fratellino – stupid little brother (Italian)

TBC...