Hermione Granger was understandably surprised when an unfamiliar voice started screaming outside Hogwarts right before the feast was about to professors at the High Table stood up and all walked to the doors. (Except Professor Lockhart, he seemed very interested in the pumpkin juice in his hand.) The shrieking ceased when the professors seemingly met with the owner of the voice. It was absolutely quiet in the Great Hall since nobody wanted to miss anything, so she was able to pick up what they were saying.
"Where are your parents?" Professor Snape's voice rang out. "Are you lost?"
The next sentence shocked Hermione. "Go away, you bastard!" At this, titters broke out in the Great Hall.
"Why, I never!" she heard Professor McGonagall gasp. "Apologize at once, young man!"
"Can't make me!" a childish voice replied.
"I believe that we should… escort this boy back to where he belongs," Professor Snape said. There was a rustle of clothes and a yelp coming from the unknown person. He entered back into the Great Hall while carrying a young boy like a kitten. He looked to be around six with a curious curl coming out of his head.
"Stop it!" he whined. "I'm not a little kid!"
"By the way you're acting, I think you are," Professor McGonagall said stiffly. "I do believe that you owe Severus an apology." She fixed him with a stern glare, her lips thinning. Professor Snape looked on as well, staring daggers at the boy. He's probably annoyed that he has to deal with such a young child, Hermione thought. He can barely deal with first years as it is!
Under the pressure of the two professors' glares, the boy started to quiver and tears started welling up. Knowing what was going to happen next from babysitting children, Hermione clapped her hands against her ears, urging her fellow Gryffindors to do the same. She was glad she did this when the boy finally screamed, "ANTONIOOO!" Please, someone shut him up! she pleaded internally.
Her prayers were answered when the doors once again burst open and a young man ran in. He paused and looked around in awe before redirecting his attention. "Romano!" he cried, scooping up the child. "I was so worried that you were hurt!" Loud protests were heard from him -Romano, was it?. Dumbledore also walked in, his eyes twinkling as usual.
Her jaw fell open when Harry and Ron (those stupid boys!) followed in a couple of minutes later. She waved them over frantically. When they reached her, she pinched them on the arms. "Why are you so late!" she hissed. "The feast is already over!"
"Oh, well, you know. Flying cars, trees that seem like they're from the Wizard of Oz, crashing, all that delightful stuff," Harry replied sarcastically. "But let's forget about all that, how are you?"
"Harry!" she snapped.
Ron cleared his throat. "What he means to say is we'll tell you later."
"Fine!" Hermione huffed. "Be that way!"
"'Mione, don't be mad!" Ron said. "I promise, we'll fill you in on everything tomorrow at breakfast,"
"Alright," she said slowly. "Oh, look! We're heading to our dormitories!"
"Looks like Professor Carriedo found Lovino," Harry said, noticing the bawling kid who was being comforted by the man.
"Lovino? I thought his name was Romano?" she remarked as they marched their way to the Gryffindor Tower.
"That's his middle name, at least that's what he told us."
"Wait, Professor? Of what?"
"Of course that's what you focus on," Ron muttered. "Apparently, Binns decided to take a vacation of some sort. He's our new History of Magic professor."
"Isn't he too young? Are you sure he isn't an assistant professor of some sort? Oh, we're here. See you tomorrow?"
"Yeah, we'll meet you at breakfast," Harry said. "Bye." Ron gave a half-hearted wave as well. Hermione nodded and spun around.
This is the oddest first day of Hogwarts I'd ever had, Hermione decided.
The next time that Harry saw Carriedo was during History of Magic. Binns was still there, idly floating next to him. The ghost cleared his throat. "Since I am a ghost - yes, I realized that a long time ago, I am a professor after all - Dumbledore has been kind enough to give me an assistant that can help me in areas that I cannot, such as picking up papers and grading them. This means that you will not be able to hand in the same essay every single time and I am looking at you, Mr. Weasley."
"See?" Hermione furiously whispered to Harry. "I told you that he was too young to be a full-time professor!" With that statement, she turned back around with a huff of satisfaction. Then, the rest of Binns' sentence caught up to her and she whirled around to Ron. "Ronald Weasley, tell me you didn't actually keep on handing the same essay over and over!"
"Then I won't say anything at all," Ron said. Hermione let out an odd sound that Harry had never heard before.
"...Anyways, this is Professor Carriedo. Please give him a warm welcome." As they did so (boredly, however, the girls seemed a little more interested), Harry couldn't help but notice the red marks covering Carriedo's hair. Had no one really noticed that? He raised his hand.
"Professor Carriedo?" he called.
"No need to call me that, just call me Antonio, makes me feel older."
"Why do you have that red...gunk in your hair?"
"Is it blood?" a girl said fearfully, shrinking back.
"No, no!" Carri- Antonio said. "It's just tomatoes. Well, they were tomatoes. And before you ask what happened," he added when he saw Harry's hand rise up again, "it wasn't anything worth noting."
Harry could've sworn that he heard a snicker at that moment, but dismissed it as part of his imagination. How odd. It seemed like Antonio was just full of mysteries.
Romano, no matter what anyone said, was not lost.
He was just… taking time to enjoy the paintings, that's all!
"Little boy, are you lost?" a voice spoke suddenly. Romano yelped and pedaled backwards. He stared at the painting. What the hell is going on? "Little boy?"
"I'm not little!" he snapped instinctively. "What the hell are you?"
The woman in the painting shifted. "How rude!" she exclaimed. "Back in my day, children were always cordial. Each generation is getting worse, I swear. And you are little, you know. After all, you're just a little tot!"
"Excuse me?" he said in disbelief. He was probably way older than this lady! He was over a thousand years old! Then again, he was stuck in the body of a six-year-old. Involuntarily, he might add. Damn England, he sulked inwardly. Damn him and his stupid fairy powers.
One month ago
"Hey, tomato bastard!" Romano called out. "What the hell is this?"
The two had decided to go snooping around in England's house. They had been invited along with several other Nations for a tea party. Unsurprisingly, someone had brought alcohol and to keep it short, the tea party turned into a drinking contest. Even he was a little buzzed. Which probably explained why he thought it was a good idea to look around England's basement.
Everybody knew that you never explore someone's basement, no matter what.
"It looks like *hic* alcohol!" Spain cried out drunkenly, his cheeks flushed. "Maybe it's England's special brand!"
Romano put it far away from his face as possible. "Made by England. Probably tastes like crap, then."
"Probably," Spain agreed. "but not definitely. Here, why don't you try it!" He swiped the bottle away from Romano's hand and popped off the cork before jamming it into his mouth. "Does it taste good?"
"Mmph!" Romano protested.
"Oh," Spain said, looking at the bottle thoughtfully. "Maybe I should take this out of your mouth."
"No duh!" he spat out. "And I was right, it does taste like crap! I feel like I'm going to throw up!" There was an unpleasant tingling sensation in his stomach and his bones felt like they were being squeezed together. "Ow!" A sudden pop was heard and smoke filled the room. "The hell?"
"Romano, you're tiny again!" said Spain with a dumb smile.
"What?!" Romano shouted, his voice seeming squeakier than before.
"You can check your reflection here in this conveniently placed mirror that definitely wasn't here before!"
Lo and behold, Spain was right. He had shrunken down to around four feet, his clothes hanging limply on his small frame. "...How?" he said faintly. It must've been England's crap potions! he realized. I just ingested something England made! No wonder I shrunk!
"Hey!" England's voice floated down from upstairs, apparently having sobered up. "What on earth are you two doing?"
"We have a bit of a *hic* dilemma! Ooh, is that a green bunny?" Loud footsteps clattered down the stairs. Dust flew up each time he went down a step. Finally, England arrived.
"Were you messing around with my- bloody hell, you're a child!"
"No, really? Tell me how to get back to normal, tea bastard!"
"Oh, um, well…" England stuttered uncharacteristically, flustered. "Judging by the bottle that you drank from and where it came from, that was one of the potions I experimented with. Which means… I don't know how to fix this, I'm terribly sorry! Oh, but I know who can!" he hastily said when he saw Romano's darkening face. "You know about magic, right?"
"Yeah, every nation does," he snorted. "We all have magical communities, you know."
"Well, Antarctica doesn't have one," England said defensively. "Anyways, Hogwarts has an extraordinary healer and a great deal of books. Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards of our time, also resides there. I'm sure you'll be able to find something."
"Guess I'll start there, but you're paying for the transportation costs! This is all your fault!"
"Now, now! Calm down, at least there's a bright side to this!" Spain suddenly chirped up. "You're cute and tiny again!"
"Shut the hell up!"
"Let's go to Pig Pimples together!"
"It's Hogwarts, stupid! And who said you were coming with me?" Romano found himself victim to Spain's puppy-eyes. "What- argh, fine!"
"Yay! Let's go see the Wizard of Oz!" he cheered, spinning around. He frowned. "Uh oh. I'm going to crash."
And so he did, taking down many bookshelves with him as Spain fell. Romano slowly looked up at England whose face was quickly become redder by the second. He backed away slowly before running for his life, screaming loudly. "Get back here!" England screeched wildly.
"You'll never take me alive, bastardo!" he shot back, stepping on Spain's head in his haste. The said man just mumbled a little and flopped over. "Ciao!"
"ROMANO! GET YOUR ARSE OVER HERE!"