OMG, SG-chan just finished reading Inheritance a couple days ago, and she wants to huggle Murtagh so much! *incoherent fangirling* I mean, I hated it when I thought he died during Eldest, and then at the end of Eldest I was all like: "NOOOOOO!" and then Brisingr came and I wanted to strangle Galbatorix (not that I didn't already but I really wanted to then) and then Inheritance and Angela and TINKLEDEATH and the werecats and oh my gosh BAMF Roran and now the series is over and I just lakhlkashd;;uiahkjdsbkjalsfsdklhf
Okay, done fangirling now. Seriously though, Inheritance will not disappoint you (unless you want to see Arya and Eragon get married - that does not happen xD). Oh, and I'm going to go see the second Sherlock Holmes movie with my dad - by the commericals it promises to be... interesting ;3
Obligatory language key is definitely obligatory!
Ancient English (Arthur's spells, etc.): "{insert text}"
French: "insert text"
Greek: "\insert text\"
Parseltongue: "*insert text*"
"What's up with… you and Slughorn?" Heracles asked from the doorway of Arthur's classroom after his class of third year Gryffindor-Hufflepuffs had left. "He's been on tiptoes… around you for… the past couple days."
"Oh, I just had a little talk with him over tea – he seems to think that I'm a vampire or some sort of undead creature."
"Why?"
The blond lifted his head from his desk where he was arranging some papers. He sighed and muttered under his breath. Greece watched impassively as the walls of the room lit up a light blue before dimming, the soft hum of protective magicks filling the room. "No chance of anyone eavesdropping on us now," England explained before he went into the story of the events of fifty years ago that centered around a young Tom Riddle.
"There's a basilisk under this school?" was Greece's first question.
"No, she's dead now; she was killed three years ago when Riddle managed to open the chamber by possessing a student."
Greece, who knew more about the undead than probably anyone but Egypt, nodded in understanding. "You came to the girl's funeral?"
"And also to investigate who let Sarana loose," Arthur added. He sighed wistfully. "She told me that it wasn't the student being accused, but she also told me that the real perpetrator had never let her see him, always taking care to stay cloaked in shadows – hardly enough proof to exonerate someone."
"You understand Parseltongue?" Greece was just a teensy bit impressed.
"I was the first to be Sorted into Slytherin; the Founder himself thought it a great honor to be teaching his country and swore he'd make sure I would, at the very least, remember his legacy." England winced. "He was quite the taskmaster."
"It's been a long… time since I had a… teacher," Heracles remarked almost wistfully. "Mother said… to leave magic to… the gods and sorcerers. It didn't stop father… from teaching me… little tricks, though."
"Speaking of which, the groundskeeper has a Cerberus, or so I hear."
Heracles gave a tiny wince. "I… know. I'm the one who… sold it to him. He isn't… a proper hellhound… more a crossbreed."
At this point England was bent over laughing. "Oh, that is far too amusing! You couldn't handle a hellhound crossbreed?"
"To be fair, he was part… werewolf," Heracles grumbled.
"By Math's fortune," the blond chortled. He canceled the protective spells with a wave of his hand. "Do drop by if you want to give me a laugh again."
"Fuck you Kirkland," Greece growled.
"Sorry, you're not my type and Kiku would kill me," England drawled, his pirate smirk firmly in place. "Now, we don't want to be traumatizing the children, so shoo. I have a class coming up."
"Your cooking sucks," Greece threw out before he left.
"I am not a bad cook! You all just have no sense of taste!" England yelled down the hall after him.
"That would be Alfred!" was the remote retort.
"Fucking layabout, always insulting my cooking the bleeding little…" Arthur's seething trailed off as he came face-to-face with a rather scared-looking first year. "Ignore him," the blond told the child before entering his classroom. The first year followed, horribly confused.
"Liet!"
Toris Laurinaitis sighed wearily at the petulant whine coming from down the hall. "What is it Feliks?" he called.
"Like, there's a letter here that's for your, like, little brother figure! Ya know, what's-his-name who's, like, always shaking and stuff?"
"You mean Latvia?" Lithuania reminded his – what exactly was Poland to him anyway? They weren't quite just friends, but then again, they weren't basically married like Germany and Italy or Sweden and Finland were. Roommates, Toris decided. Roommates who occasionally have sex with one another.
...God, that sounded bad even inside his head.
"Who's it from?" Toris asked in an attempt to forget what he'd just thought. He walked down the hallway to the foyer where Feliks was sorting through the mail.
"One of the Kirklands. That's funny, like, I don't remember one of them being named Peter. Is that the guy, who, like, is always being followed around by, like, an albino panda bear?" Toris almost chuckled at the frown on Feliks' face. Really, he looked quite cute when he thought too hard like that.
"I think you're thinking of Canada, and it's a polar bear he carries around, not an albino panda; that's China," Lithuania chided.
"Huh, I didn't know China carried, like, an albino panda around with him," Poland said in an almost awestruck tone.
"No no, China has a panda; nobody has an albino anything!" Lithuania insisted. At the confused look from Poland the brunette sighed. Why did he even bother anymore? "Never mind. If it's someone from the United Kingdom then it's most likely Sealand. I guess he got Raivis' address confused with ours since he did live here for a while."
"I don't get why people can't just, like, text! I mean, it's so much faster and easier, seriously!" Feliks stated his opinion. "Handwriting letters is, like, so overrated nowadays."
Toris didn't know whether to facepalm or sigh melodramatically, so he just settled for finding a pen and writing Raivis' actual address on the envelope back. He frowned slightly at the crest used to seal the envelope shut. It looked so familiar, reminding him of the times before he was beset by Prussia in multiple religious wars, times when pagan gods ruled over his people and the ancient and wild magicks of his land made his blood run red-hot in both anticipation and excitement. Lithuania shook his head. Those times were long past now, especially in this modern age...
"Hello Harry," Luna greeted as the boy came down from his room.
"Luna?" Jade green eyes blinked bewilderingly. "What are you doing in the Gryffindor common room?"
"Oh, Ginny and I had a girl's night – I'm waiting for her to get up and I thought I'd take a look at the scenery." For some reason Luna's usual dreamy stare seemed to focus on his chest. Strange.
"Oh, all right." Harry turned to go but stopped as Luna called him back.
"I was wondering Harry, are you going to start the DA up again? Ginny was going to ask, but she keeps forgetting."
"Uh, well, not really. Not that I wouldn't want to, but I haven't thought about it." Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair as he smiled rather sheepishly. "I've been elected as Captain of the Quidditch team you know, so this year will actually probably be a lot busier than last."
"Oh, I see. Well, if you do decide to start it again, please tell me. I liked your classes." Luna smiled at him, her expression strangely lucid for once.
"I'll make sure to," the boy nodded. "How's your… project coming along?"
"Oh, rather well, thanks for asking." Luna's smile grew wider. "Professor Kirkland actually has some faeries following him about, so they've been quite helpful in making my scrapbook. I think this year will be my most productive yet."
"That's great Luna," Harry grinned at the contagiousness of her childish enthusiasm – and now he had at least kind of an explanation for the rumors he'd heard about Kirkland talking to thin air. "I've got to be getting to breakfast now, so I'll see you later."
"Bye Harry," Luna waved from the couch. "Think about DA, and tell me whichever way you decide."
"Will do," he promised.
Now where is Hermione's chair? Luna thought to herself as soon as Harry had left and she was alone in the common room. What she told him had been the truth, but she was also assisting Ginny in her quest to get Ron and Hermione together. Ginny said it was blue… oh, that one in the corner!
"Now, a couple of runes to facilitate awareness… and now a bit of camouflage…" Luna sat back with a satisfied smile at her handiwork. Now maybe Hermione would stop concentrating on her schoolwork long enough to notice Ron and his (passable) attempts at wooing her. "Ginny owes me big for this," the blonde muttered. "Like Muggle energy drinks big."
Peter cackled evilly to himself as he finished the last touches to his masterpiece. Let's see That Jerk ignore him now! It really had been nice of those twins to give him such a discount on these paints...
Hmm, I need to sign it somehow, Peter thought, frowning in consternation. I know, my flag! Ha, take that Jerk Arthur! The Magnificent Sea-kun strikes again!
The micronation didn't notice his watchers as he bounded away.
"Should we tell England?" Maeve wondered, tapping her fingers together in imitation of one of the animated characters from a show Japan had sent England.
"Yes, just so he doesn't go too hard on the boy," Keira decided. "After all, he is still so young, and England knows what it's like to try to gain the approval of an older sibling."
"I do like his flag though," Maeve commented as she hovered over Peter's prank. "It's pretty.
"C'mon little one, save your crushing for your own species," Keira chuckled, pushing a suddenly tomato-faced Maeve through the air. Hmm, I wonder what Brigid is getting up to...
"Fuck it all!" Draco Malfoy swore to himself as he shut the big and rather old book rather harshly.
"Dray, calm down and look at the bright side of things," Blaise Zabini drawled from the other side of the room. "At least you haven't been assigned some impossible task like killing Dumbledore or something."
"Shut up Zabini, you are not helping my concentration any!" the blond seethed as he ran a hand through normally perfectly slicked back hair. "You have nothing to worry about, all your problems are back in Italy!"
"Ah, not all," the other teen corrected. "My mamma is a firm believer in making sure I don't try to pull anything off under her nose or behind her back, so she gets monthly progress reports mailed to her. Normally only Mudblood families use that sort of thing, but Mamma doesn't wish for anything I do to upset her patron." He shivered slightly. "Signore Vargas gets very scary when he's angry."
"Tch," Draco scoffed. "It's not as if the Mafia, magical or otherwise, has a very long reach here in England anyway; it's not as if we're in some kind of cheap American mobster film after all."
Across the Atlantic one Alfred F. Jones sneezed. He thought for a moment that maybe he was coming down with a cold, but then dismissed the thought entirely, because he was way too heroic to catch a cold! And before anyone said anything, the Great Depression didn't count, not at all.
...Yeah, and Francis was both a virgin and celibate.
"Ah, but you don't understand!" Blaise waved a finger, a stern expression on his face. "Famiglia is everything to an Italian, si? Through some long and twisted relationship that I'll probably never understand - and, quite frankly, probably don't want to - even before the Dark Lord began his conquest, Italy and the United Kingdom, to some extent, have shared some sort of dark, secret bond. Mamma says it has something to do with Rome, common backgrounds, and dealing with idiots - I think it's because both countries have famous magical tourist traps."
"You are impossible," Draco groaned. "Do me a favor and help me go through this next book - maybe you can use your Italian 'charm' and get the answers I want out of there. And no, I'm not telling you my mission," he said as he saw Blaise open his mouth.
"I wasn't going to ask that," the dark-skinned Italian protested slightly, though from Draco's raised eyebrow he knew the other didn't believe him. "You'll tell me when you need to, I know that much. Now, how about I put my irresistable Sicilian charm to work, hmm?"
"Isn't that part of Italy?" Draco was slightly confused at the emphasis.
"Yes, but it's totally different! You don't think I tan this well through genetics, hmm?" Blaise waggled his eyebrows as Draco rolled his eyes. "Now let's get down to business..."
Signore: Italian for 'Mister'
Famiglia: Italian for 'family'
Si: Italian for 'yes'
Oh, SG-chan had a lot of fun writing this xD And before anyone asks, no, Blaise is not Sicily or any other nation-tan. Sicily is his mother, he knows nothing about the nations, and he merely knows Lovino as the (extremely) ill-tempered mafia don who is his mamma's patron XDXDXD Like I said, I had a lot of fun writing this. And poor Liet, you'll be dragged into this soon enough honey ^^;
And... is that actual plot that appeared this chapter? *le gasp* Get used to it, it'll be happening more and more often xD;;
Again, SG-chan wishes you all a Happy Holidays, and would also like to remind you that reviews for both chapters would look great wrapped up and put in SG-chan's stocking... Seriously though, Merry Christmas to y'all, and a Happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, etc. too ^_^
