Chapter 10, The Beginning of Something Sinister

Disclaimer: I don't own APH or HP. Abbreviations ftw!

Before you read: Just some alcohol. Some cussin'. I mean, the first part of the story is a bar scene, y'know.

It was Friday night, and the nations were chillin' at the Three Broomsticks. Just chillin', yo.

"I feel…like we're missing something." This came from a certain axe-wielding Dane, who, at the moment, was slamming down shot after shot of akvavit*.

"I dun' know 'bout you, but I dun' need anyone 'cuz I'm the bloody United Kingdom…" This was said by our favorite tsundere Brit, who'd had one too many scotch on the rocks.

"Hehe, Iggy's drunk. But…something's off. It's almost like…we're not complete." And this was stated by an oddly sober, typically obnoxious American.

Notice something? Yeah, they were missing an important component.

Denmark slapped his down on the table, exclaiming "Gilbert!"

"That's who we're missing, bro! Dude, if he was here we could be the Awesome Fail Brothers!"

"I wuz never a 'fail' brother…unlike you, America, 'cuz you just left me!" Arthur's green eyes filled with tears as he gripped America's shirt tightly, sobbing and wailing into the fabric. "And then you had the nerve to burn my entire pirate wardrobe afterwards…"

"Chill, brosef. Francis just stole all of your pirate clothes because he thought they were sexy!"

"Ah, yes, mon cher. They're all in my Parisian apartment back home, just waiting for you to model them for me…"

"Shut it, you frog!"

"Who wants to have a drinking contest?"

Canada sat unnoticed, but gladly so. He had a feeling that Monday was going to be a total disaster, and as such, he was preparing a letter to his good friend, the Netherlands, for some…herbal stress relievers. Al had never approved of Lars and Matt being buddies (but nothing more!), so Canada was glad that America wasn't breathing down his neck.

He sealed the letter, then made his way to the owlery to send it off to Amsterdam.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the pub, Norway was having a three-way staring contest with Hong Kong and Iceland. No one budged, blinked, or faltered. Then suddenly, out of the blue, Tore said, "What's that on your hand?"

"Huh?"

"You've got some fading scars on your hand…Both of you."

"Oh, that's nothing."

"Nothing, my ass. Give me your hand, Ice."

Red-faced and pouting, Iceland stuck his hand out for Tore to inspect.

"What the…? Who did this to you two?"

Neither answered, just turned away.

"Tell me."

"Umbridge." It was Li Xiao who broke the one way conversation.

"What?"

Dagur answered, his voice bubbling with bitterness and contempt. "Professor Umbridge's detention included writing some lines. Turns out they were blood quills."

Norway sighed. "I need a drink. I'll deal with this tomorrow." He paused, remembering what he had originally wanted to talk to Hong Kong and Iceland about. "But first, I want you to tell me why you two think that you can get away with skipping History and Caring for Magical Creatures…"

Tore didn't deal with it the next day. Instead, Norway spent his Saturday nursing a hangover, and he wasted Sunday out in the game pens, tending to his magical pets. It wasn't until he saw the now white scars on Iceland after Monday's breakfast that he remembered to bring it up with the toad.

Heading over to her office, he realized that she wasn't anywhere to be seen…and, honestly, what does a person like her have to do? She, like Tore, had a free period for that first hour of the day, and it's not like she had any students who would willingly visit her office.

Ah, whatever…he could deal with her later. He needed to go grab his dragon riding equipment. Fireproof phoenix hide boots, basilisk leather harnesses, and the like. Today was going to be very long…

Matthew, our favorite maple leaf, paced nervously as the first students of the day appeared. Oh, god…this was going to be an absolute disaster. Although Francis' signature leer was not showing, you could tell he wanted to rip off his clothes to reveal a rose (and not much else). You could see it in his eyes, the desire to 'spread the love' across Hogwarts was blatant in those darkened sapphire pools.

And now…now, every student was settled in, all the fourth years were staring expectantly at France, waiting for instruction. Or simply wondering who Matthew was.

"Ah, the subject of amour…I, Francis Bonnefoy, am so honored to be able to teach you uptight Brits about love." Francis noticed a young girl raising her hand. "You there! With the red hair! What is your name, Mademoiselle?"

The girl blushed furiously, but answered anyway. "Um…Ginny Weasley. I was just wondering who he is," she said, pointing to Matthew.

"Oh, he is here to help me. Introduce yourself, -"

The door creaked open, revealing Dolores Umbridge. "Matthew Williams? Co-teacher? Could you please step out for a minute to have a word with me?"

*akvavit - some sort of Danish booze.

AN: Well, I sorta kept up my promise. Anyways, I love my reviewers, as always. Keep 'em comin'.

Don't worry, neither Prussia or the Netherlands will be really involved. Thought they're my two fav characters.

This was a filler sort of chapter, but I felt like we needed it.

So, hopefully I'll get chapter 11 up before St. Patty's day, but...no promises.

See y'all then!