Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter. I hope you like this one! In the meantime, this chapter is dedicated to my commenters: LinkParkTheKillersFan, Marshal Thompson, Fred and George Weasley Twins, Arcnavy, and elizabeta H. Austria. Thank you and I hope you look forward to my next update. Please tell me what you think of the interactions between characters. Are they believable or not?

Hocus Pocus 2

"Poor Gilbert Beilschmidt, not a single soul knew what became of him those 300 years ago," the voice announced solemnly. Lifting his head to reveal his amber irises from above his chocolate fringe, the speaker gazed out at the room of captivated teenagers. Despite the serious atmosphere, the man couldn't resist the slight tug of his lip at his students' absolute absorption in his story. And Professor Germania said he sucked at story-telling.

'Well take that!' Professor Vargas thought smugly before his lips turned down once more and he began to finish his tale.

"And so the wicked sisters were hung that night by the people of Salem. Now there are those who say, that on Halloween night, a black cat still guards the witches former hearth. Warning off anybody who might make the witches come back to life…" Professor Vargas narrated, subtly preparing for his finale as he stalked up the rows of desks. Finding his target, Professor Vargas struck.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" the teacher roared, letting loose a black streamer he had managed to conceal somewhere on his ridiculous and hardly appropriate outfit. Though, if the student body had been made aware of original costume, a traditional toga, they could understand how the school comprised on his current attire. The easily sixty year old man, albeit he appeared closer to a man in his early forties, sported a classic Roman legion military outfit, completely with a cape, a sculpted breastplate, and a plated skirt that fell about mid-thigh.

The blonde shrieked akin to that of every female lead in a horror film. And while she was the loudest, she was not alone as half of the class let loose their own squeals and jumped in their seats at the sudden outburst. Fear soon led way to humor however and giggles overtook the students, even the poor victim of Professor Vargas's trick chuckled albeit nervously.

"Th-tha-that's not a true story right?" the blonde piqued nervously as she picked at the streamer caught in her shoulder length wheaten locks. Her bright cobalt eyes nearly hidden in her still dilated pupils, a residual effect of the scare Professor Vargas had given her. Although few of the boys in the class would bother looking at her eyes over her prodigious chest, even if it was hidden under a sweater at the moment. Her legs were a popular second, kept tone through the various physical activity she did regardless of the season despite winter being her least favorite and desire to hibernate in the frozen months.

"Well, the house still stands-"

"Pfft," a scoff rang through the air.

All heads turned towards the disruptive voice, one of which was Professor Vargas himself.

"I see we have a non-believer?" Professor Vargas asked; a hint of annoyance in his voice as he eyed the sloppy blond locks of the teenaged boy. His emerald shone viciously under thick brows that Professor Vargas always pitied him for.

"No. I believe plenty. Magic, witches, warlocks, they're all real I am quite aware," the blond announced, his English accent filling the room.

"Freak," a random voice whispered, although ensuring it was said loud enough to be heard by all and thus inspire others to join in with their own jeers. Professor Vargas ignored the minor insults as did Arthur, both focusing on each other in a battle of wills somewhat.

"Oh really, care to explain the cause for the disruption then Arthur?"

"Well, presuming the American educational system hasn't completely failed the ridiculous lot in this room, you should all know that the cry of 'witch' took off in Salem around this time frame with most of those souls accused being innocent and sent prematurely to their deaths by the foolish whims and greedy desires of adolescents." Arthur earned a few glares and boos for his blatant attack on not only Professor Vargas's story but the insinuation of American inferiority.

"Are you quite finished?" Professor Vargas queried, annoyance giving way to amusement.

"No, as a matter of fact I'm not. These poor souls you lot slander were most likely tragic victims of an overzealous, frightened, and dreadfully repressed bunch of gits. And as for 'poor Gilbert', he probably never existed or just ran off with his brother to a less ridiculous town that doesn't still manage to maintain such bouts of ludicrousy as to carry on this tale."

This final tirade earned him even more jeers and taunts.

"Go back to England," a voice yelled, tossing a rolled up paper at the Brit. Neither Professor Vargas or Arthur could discern who threw it but Arthur responded with a harsh glare to the entire half of the room while Professor Vargas went about settling down the riled up class.

"Alright, alright," Professor Vargas tried to ease, throwing up his hands to emphasize his point. "Arthur here has a right to his opinion…just as you bunch of 'gits' have the right to jump him once off school property," the professor laughed, clearly intending it as a joke though it would seem that not everyone one else felt the same way.

And as fate would have it, the final bell rang.

"Ok kids, remember to have a fun and safe Halloween. Your history projects are due the second week of November so don't procrastinate. Use your candy-induced sugar highs to do some work this weekend," Professor Vargas cried out to the teenagers shuffling to get out and enjoy the weekend.

Arthur slowly packed his belongings away as well. Unlike the others, he didn't care about leaving school as quickly as possible and going back to the house that he was currently living in. He refused to call it home. Home was back in England. Here? Here it was just a dwelling, four walls with a roof over his head. So why would he bother rushing back to that?

He knew that blaming his parents was a ridiculous notion; it's not like they had intended to die and saddle him and his younger brother on his elder siblings but he was still only an adolescent and could damn well be unreasonable if he wanted to be. It didn't help that his 'git' of a brother thought it would be beneficial for them to uproot their lives and every aspect of normality they had left and move to America. Of course, Scott had made a far more convincing case than that but Arthur hadn't bought it. With a heavy heart and an even heavier school bag, Arthur trudged out of the classroom and into the crowded hallway. Students littered the hallway and filled it with raucous noise and animated gestures. The blonde navigated through the masses, weaving about until he fought his way to the doors.

Finally, he was out. His step was slow and deliberate as he set off through the sleepy, dull town. Arthur had to give it to Scott, Salem was just like home only without the benefit of having friends. Yippee. It was only a fifteen or so minute walk from his house to the school and Arthur could already see his house by now. Not wanting to go back there just yet, Arthur veered left and
headed towards a nearby park. A small iron rod gate surrounded the enclosure. It was mostly comprised of bare grassy hills rather than any traditional playground equipment, an element which suited Arthur's need perfectly as very few children went there thus giving him much peace and quiet. The two sole swings squeaked in the mild breeze and ruffled Arthur's hair. The Brit let loose a content sigh. At least this was nice. Arthur was happy that Scott made them move to place with trees and nature. He didn't know what he'd do if he was stuck in New York City or L.A. Emerald irises gazed in wonder at the various shades of coral, amber, and magenta leaves standing in stark contrast against the pale bark of the trees. It was peaceful, beautiful, wonderful- until a sudden tug on his school bag forced him on his back and onto the ground. Arthur whipped his head about him to find two of his least favorite people standing above him.

"Greetings Privet Arthur," a cheery voice greeted.

"Opium," a far less amused voice welcomed.

"Ivan," Arthur nodded towards the burly of the pair before turning his head to the raven haired Asian next to him, "Yao." The trio remained as they were for a hardly a minute although between the heated glances and roaring tension it felt much longer. It wasn't until Arthur began to feel the dirt and leaves rub against his palms did the silent war of wills end as he readied himself to stand.

"Oh, let me help you comrade," Ivan spoke, his ever present grin belying the malice in his lavender eyes. His large hands reached out and grabbed the lapel of Arthur's beige trench coat and hoisted the smaller teen into the air.

"Put me down you big oaf!" Arthur yelped, his feet dangling a few feet above the ground.

"But I'm helping you da?"

"No! You're not!"

"What do you think Yao? Should I let little Arthur down?"

"Perhaps," Yao said, pointing to a low hanging tree branch onto which to hang the angry Brit.

"I think you're right," Ivan agreed.

"You damn well believe he's ri- Wait, why are we moving? What are you up to?"

"Hey!" Arthur roared as he felt his collar catch on a tree branch.

"I've put you down da?"

"I meant on the ground git!"

"But you're so small. I'm worried that I might accidently step on you then," Ivan smiled.

"What's a matter Opium?"

"I'm hanging on a tree branch and stop calling me that! It's not clever you clod!" Arthur bit. He wasn't sure what he did to get on the Asian's bad side or how to get the nickname 'Opium' unless it was a historical reference to their ethnicities.

"Clod?" Ivan piqued.

"Imbecile, git, tosser, moron, dumbass! Take your pick!" Arthur bit. Even in the most dire situations his tongue never managed to lose its venom.

"That's not very nice to say," Ivan said, his lips turning down into a frown, a rare event that only spelled trouble.

"If the shoe fits," Arthur growled.

"…No, more like, if your shoe fits," Ivan clarified.

"Wha- Hey! Stop that! Stop!" Arthur yelled and squirmed as Ivan began to yank off his sneakers.

"Pfft, unicorns?" Yao chuckled, referring to the unicorn patterned socks Arthur was wearing.

"Th-they were a gift!" Arthur answered, embarrassed.

"Hey!" a new voice called out, turning all three heads in its direction. A mob of blonde hair and blue eyes sprinted towards them. "What are you doing Ivan?" the blonde spat, wavy curls framing her slender cheek bones. She jutted her left hip out just so and placed her hands on her hip, a small pout on her lips giving her the expression of a scolding mother.

"Hello Amelia," Ivan smiled causally while Yao just nodded.

"Hey! Help me get down from here!" Arthur yelled towards Amelia as he squirmed more.

"Then why is Arthur stuck in a tree?"

The question made all three pause.

"You know him?" Ivan asked.

'She knows me?' Arthur thought.

"Y-Yes, well, no," Amelia blushed. "He's in my class!"

"Fine, we will leave little Arthur alone if you play with us instead," the lavender eyed giant grinned.

"Sure," Amelia answered sweetly, "let me ask your sister first though. I saw her walking by her and promised to call her if I saw you." Amelia's eyes narrowed maliciously as she pulled her cellphone from her pocket.

Ivan's already pale face grew paler. Arthur had met Ivan's sisters, both of them. Katyusha was nice girl with an ever nicer rack. That girl was sure to have back problems in the future if she didn't have any now. His other sister, well she was another story. Her glares could kill, he was quite certain. Not that she'd need to bother glaring considering she spent most of the school day sharpening various objects to which he could only imagine were made with the intent to stab.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh. I would. And you," Amelia said, eyes shifting to Yao, "She was with Im."

It was Yao's time to pale now.

"When will that brat realize I don't have breasts," he hissed under his breath, crossing his arms against his chest.

"So are you guys gonna go or what," Amelia said, blatantly scrolling through her contacts until 'Crazy Russian' appeared on her screen with a picture of Natalia's face.

"Da, we will go." Ivan scowled, walking with Yao towards Amelia who in turn pressed her thumb closer to the call button. But the two merely strolled past her, Ivan purposely bumping into her shoulder. "Don't expect much cover during our next game," Ivan called out behind her.

"What else is new!?" Amelia bit back before turning round to face Arthur.

"You okay?"

"Am I-? No! I'm in a bloody tree you git!" Arthur bit.

"Oh, here let me help you," Amelia responded, walking up to Arthur and tugging on her legs. If it wasn't for the fact that he was extremely ticklish in his feet, he'd be a bit more nervous with the proximity of Amelia's head to his crotch.

"He-Hey!" Arthur giggled, "That tickles!"

"Huh," Amelia smiled, ceasing in her attempts.

"What?" Arthur asked as he tried to regain his breath.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile let alone laugh," she beamed.

Arthur could feel his insult catch in his throat and cheeks heat up at the bright smile directed at him.

"W-W-Well you've seen it so belt up and get me down!"

Amelia giggled rather than take offense. "Ok, but I think I'm gonna need to climb up there. Hang in there."

"What else am I going to do?"

Amelia's grin grew wider at the use of sarcasm. Arthur couldn't see just what she was doing but he could hear the scrape of bark against rubber soles and denim jeans. The Brit could only imagine Amelia was now on the tree branch and inching closer as the limb began to creak and bend ever so slightly.

"Alright," Amelia grunted above him, grabbing hold of his coat. Arthur could feel himself be pulled up just a tad and over the offending branch before he was let go abruptly and gravity took over.

"WAAHHHHH- Oooofff!" Arthur grunted, landing on his rear end.

"Oh sorry! I guess I should've given you a warning," Amelia called out before landing next Arthur, only she landed on her feet. Sheepishly, she held out a hand for the Brit to take.

"That would have been beneficial," Arthur groaned, taking the hand Amelia offered him and in doing so remembering his shoes were still missing. "Bloody brilliant."

"What happened to your shoes," Amelia said, noticing his dilemma.

"You think you would have noticed my lack of proper footwear when you were tugging on my feet," Arthur griped, turning his head round looking for his shoes. Seeing they were nowhere in sight and figuring Ivan must still have them or ditched them in an undesirable location by now, he gave up rather quickly. He choose instead to try and brush off the dirt and leaves that had collected on his back and behind, decidingly ignoring Amelia. Of course, it was not in the blonde's nature to let such silence continue.

"So," Amelia drawled, "my name is Amelia."

"I know," Arthur replied blandly, finally content with his appearance.

"O-Oh. You do?"

"Yes, you nearly made me go deaf when you screamed in class earlier today after Professor Vargas threw that streamer at you."

"Oh, yeah. That. …I wasn't really scared you know. I just wanted to play along," Amelia fibbed. Arthur merely raised a brow at the blatant lie but didn't call her out.

"Well, I would introduce myself as well but it would seem you know my name," Arthur responded, fighting the grin threatening to show on his face at her flustered expression. He also couldn't help but feel a modicum of pride considering the most desirable girl in school knew his name.

"Haha, yeah…" Amelia laughed nervously, raising an arm to scratch the back of her head, "Well after you gave that verbal tongue lashing to about everyone in class, how could I not know you."

'Great. She only knows who I am because I insulted America and acted like a prat,' Arthur grimaced.

"So…do you really think Professor Vargas's story was a hoax?" Amelia asked, not really noticing Arthur's growing depression.

"Huh? Oh, well not entirely. I believe the sisters were real, after all their house still stands, I just doubt that they were witches."

"Well that's cool I guess. I think I'll side with Mr. Vargas on this though. The story's cooler that way and it would make the townspeople heroes which is pretty awesome if you ask me," the blonde beamed, unintentionally making Arthur's heart beat faster.

"Ehem," the bushy browed foreigner cough into his hand, "Well I suppose that's a far more comforting thought than the alternative."

Amelia merely smiled in agreement and a silence stretched between the two.

"Well, uhh. I had best be heading home now. My feet are getting cold and all," Arthur mumbled, breaking the silence.

"Oh," Amelia answered and much to Arthur's amazement sounded disappointed. But before he could say anything else, like they could hang out afterwards Amelia spoke up again. "I suppose I should get home too. My parents are hosting their annual Halloween party for all of their friends and I have candy duty."

"Right-o then," Arthur said in turn as he watched Amelia spin on her heel and run out of the park.

"See you around Arthur!" she cried out halfway down the street. Arthur waved her off in return, a gesture she didn't see with her back turned to him. Kicking himself at his own stupidity, Arthur eventually followed in Amelia's footsteps and left the park to go back to his house.

"Welcome home laddie," a thick accent greeted Arthur when he walked through the door. The grumpy Brit sent a glare towards the owner of the overly cheery voice, his brother Scott. His fiery red hair in stark contrast to his viridian eyes much like Arthur's. They, aside from the thick brows, were the only features that proved the two were related. Their builds were completely different. Arthur was lanky, though toned, and the shortest of his family with the exception of his younger brother. Scott was the opposite, tall, bulky, and loud. Not to mention he was a right git, the latter being Arthur's personal summed up opinion of his older brother.

"This isn't my home," Arthur grumbled before stalking off to the basement.

"Mon ami, was your brother not wearing any shoes?" A tall blonde queried, moving out of the kitchen to stand next to Scott. Blue eyes glanced worriedly between the closed basement door and Scott.

"It's fine Francine. Probably just form of protest against this move," Scott sighed, before a feral smile taking over his lips. As quick as a snake, Scott looped his arms around the gorgeous blonde, earning a surprised squeal, before stealing her lips in a heated kiss.

"Ugh," Arthur groaned, able to hear his brother and his new toy make disgusting sounds in the kitchen above. Grabbing a black cloak from a hook at the bottom of the basement stairs, Arthur donned the cape and pulled up the hood so only his green eyes sparkled out from under the black shadow. Picking up a red piece of chalk from the ground that he had put there the night before, he drew a circle and various shapes upon the ground. A round circle littered with hexagons and various other symbols filled the floor when he was finished. Placing a hand above the circle, Arthur began to chant and as he chanted, the circle glowed.

"Santo Rita Meata Mater Ringo Jonah Tito Marlon Jack La Toya Janet Michael Dumbledora the Explorer..."

The circle continued to glow before the light dimmed and finally melded into the darkness. A firm grip abruptly pulled on his shoulder forcing him round and on his arse for the second time that day.

"Booo!" Peter cried, trying to hold back his laughter.

"Peter," Arthur grumbled, getting up from the floor.

"Scott said you'd have to take me trick or treating tonight," Peter said animatedly, ignoring his brother's annoyed tone.

"You've got to be joking me," Arthur deadpanned, nearly freezing to the floor.

"Nope! Now get up and get ready!"

"No Peter, I refuse. Go with a friend," the older Brit groaned. His distress furthering past his younger brother's gripes to realize his spell hadn't worked…again.

"But Scott won't let me. Besides, I'll probably get lost."

"Scott told you to say that didn't he?" Arthur pandered.

"Maybe," Peter drawled, "But it's true nonetheless. I'd never find my way home without you," Peter moaned.

"Then I guess you won't go trick or treating. Besides, why do you want to participate in such a ludicrous holiday and why must I be the one to take you?" Arthur groaned, covering his face with his hand.

"Because it's free candy and Scott has some hot date with Francine tonight or something and can't go so he said you'd have to."

"Well, I refuse," Arthur answered, strutting past his brother to go up to his room. If Arthur had been paying his brother any attention he would have noticed the quivering lips and doe like eyes begin to water.

"SSSCCCOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!"

A/N: Ok, so this chapter was supposed with them waking the Magic Trio but the bully scene became a bit lengthy so yeah. Francine is Fem! France and Yao and Ivan are China and Russia respectively. I hope none of you mind the liberties I've taken thus far but I refuse to copy the screenplay. Anyway, I have a few possible ending and do you think I should make it include Arthur's magical tendencies or follow more closely to the original plot. Asode from that query, I now ask you what phoned in costume should Arthur be for Halloween? I do have three options but if you think of a really awesome one mention it as well as vote.

So options:

Pirate

James Bond

Undercover police officer

And like Torrence said, this isn't a democracy but a cheerocracy so I will go for what I think is best but your vote will be considered, particularly if you argue as to why it should be that way. :) (I'll give those who give credit to that shout out in my next chappie!)