Authors Note: Okay! So, yeah, Prussia and Austria are classmates. Just read below, I've explained. Anyways! I apologize about the shortness of this chapter. I was originally going to add a bit more, but in the conversation I was adding, Prussia was hopelessly out of character. ;-; Oh well! She'll get back into it, once it's not, like, midnight. And I'm not partially brain dead. Anyways! Thanks for checking this out! Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Disclaimer: I still do not own Hetalia. And neither does my dad. My dad's never seen the show, but he said that if he owned that show, that all the countries would just spontaneously turn into land masses. My dad mixed Transformers and Hetalia. Why.

"I know you're there." Said a familiar voice.

Julchen cringed. How had he known she was there? Glancing down, Julchen found that the door had been opened a crack, held open by a wooden door stopper. He had to of heard Julchen's angry steps approaching the secluded room.

"Come in." The voice added.

Julchen vaguely realized that she had been lingering at the partially opened door for at least a minute now, staring stubbornly into space. The door creaked in distress as Julchen slowly pushed it open, kicking the door stopper aside.

Inside the room was much larger then Julchen had expected for such a disclosed area of the school. It was practically littered with various instruments, - xylophones, guitars, cellos; any instrument that was large enough to be stored at school. The top half of the wall facing the door was completely made out of windows, tempting Julchen viciously to simply hurl herself out of the school and away from her stingy classmate, - who was now her teacher, at least every day from after school until about 5.

Julchen could tell that Roderich was a bit reluctant to have to pull his fingers from his precious instrument, but even more agitated that the lady that had stepped into the room was none other than Julchen Beilschmidt. Of course, he was clearly either more prepared, or a much better actor then herself, because he immediately wiped off his annoyed expression to meet Julchen with, not a happy look, but a one of much disinterest.

"I would say that I'm surprised to have you hear due to punishment, but I'm not." The Austrian insulted dully, in contrast from greeting her in a way that he would to just about anyone else.

"Pfft," Julchen scoffed, deciding that it would be better to appear much more confident then she actually felt, her narcissism having of been bruised by being sent here on such sour terms, "How do you know that the awesome me didn't just decide to join your stupid-ass club for my own fun?"

"Because, they told me how many times you had managed to be late." Roderich replied, turning back to his piano and pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. He did that often. Julchen found it annoying; at least when she cared enough to notice that he did.

And that was how their first lesson began. The piano bench that had been placed in front of the classic instrument was oddly long for a grand piano. But, only taking in the grateful fact that it meant that she didn't have to sit so nearly close to the stingy man, Julchen placed herself noisily to Roderich's far right, on the very edge of the bench.

Roderich cast a bitter side glance, repulsed by her action, - or simply her presence. Julchen slouched over the polished array of black and white keys, biting the inside of her cheek before, rather mischievously, lifting her hand to place her fingers on three notes, - which emitted a gross squeal in reply.

Roderich shot Julchen a dirty look, but before he could begin to lecture her on the importance of 'respecting the piano', or 'not being childish', or something, Julchen interrupted, eyes still locked on the keys before her.

"So, how'd ya' start this club? I thought only teachers could start clubs." She asked bluntly. Her tone revealed that she little interest in her question, or in his reply. Roderich guessed that her sudden question was simply a pass time.

"Students can start clubs too. I simply got a few teachers approval, and, considering no one else volunteered, I now run the club."

"This is the wimpiest club I've ever seen." Julchen muttered, half still agitated, and the other half having a bone to annoy her fellow classmate.

Roderich didn't answer, but rather sighed, commenting after a few seconds of annoyed silence, "Your chords sound horrendous."

"What the hell is a chord?!"

Roderich sighed again, which caused Julchen to threaten silently in her mind, 'He better not sigh the entire time.'

"It's this." The musician placed his long fingers on the instrument in an obnoxiously delicate matter, before carefully pressing down on the four keys he had chosen. The piano hummed happily in reply.

Those windows looked really tempting just about then.