Wales and Scotland were making their way into the a conference room for an Atlas meeting when someone grabbed Wales shoulder. She wore her dark hair in a tight bun and carried a large briefcase that matched her dark suit. Upon her breast pocket was a small badge that bore the Atlas logo, and a small metal check that resembled the red chevrons of Spartan agents. The grey face of her wristwatch peeked out from her sleeve.

"Mr. Wales," the woman called in a thick French accent, she was slightly out of breath but regained her resolve quickly. She was Detective Bordeaux, lead detective in the International Branch of Atlas. Atlas, like Spartan, was one of the main divisions under Hetalia. The Anthropomorphised Territories Logistics and Assistance Services was mostly made up of personal assistants or secretaries for the Nations, but they had an espionage sector as well.

"Mr. Wales, before you go in, I have to warn you, Mr. Romano may have found out about our little deception." Her dark cheeks flushed red as she fished something out of her briefcase and held up an Italian Wizarding newspaper. On the front, the face of a blond witch with large rimmed glasses and twisted lips sneered at them over an old copy of the British Wizarding newspaper, the Daily Prophet.

Wales recognised the building she stood in front of, the Gringotts bank in Diagon Alley. He glared back at the woman on the newspaper and read the headline above her. 'Atlas covers up the Gringotts Break-In' the headline blared in Italian. Scotland took one glance at the paper and nearly growled.

"Rita Skeeter," he cursed. "It's bad enough when she writes gossip in Britain, now she's selling her stories to other countries."

Scotland sighed. He was starting to get real tired of dealing with reporters and sensational journalists that Fudge had snubbed and left Scotland to manage the gossip. He skimmed his eyes over the Italian text. Rita Skeeter taunted him, claiming that while the news of a break in at Gringotts was quite a buzz in Britain, the sensation hadn't spread to other parts of Europe. All because Mr. Alistair Kirkland was hiding it from the rest of the Wizarding World. "Romano isn't going to like this..."

"No he isn't." Romano walked up behind them. The auburn eyes of the Head of Atlas International were completely void of their usual Tuscan warmth. A cold glint of gold sparked from the small pin on his left lapel. A chevron, much like the ones worn on the Atlas and Spartan uniforms.

"Good morning, Mr. Romano," Scotland greeted in feigned glee.

"Save it. All of you bastards, my hotel room, now." he sneered.

"Now?" Wales called, "We have an Atlas meeting in 10 minutes."

Romano smirked and held up a pager. The words '8-19 B n efct, mtng pstpn' scrolled by on the small screen. "One of the newest Spartans are carrying on the family tradition." he rolled his eyes. "We've got plenty of time. Someone get England too."

Within a few minutes, Wales, Scotland and Det. Bordeaux were standing outside Romano's hotel room in the Hetalia Frankfurt building. England approached the small group as well. "Who do we have to blame for this, this time?"

"Rita Skeeter," the others replied. England groaned.

"Mr. Romano is mad, isn't he," England sighed.

"You guessed it." Romano teased as he stepped out of his hotel room with a special key. He closed the door and stuck the key in the lock. With a twist, the tumblers were turned. He opened the door to reveal his hotel room was replaced with his office at the Hetalia Headquarters in Tuscany, Italy. "Inside, now."

He led the others into his office where he took a seat behind his desk. The was one seat in front of the desk, Scotland rested his arms on its backrest. Romano conjured two more chairs for Wales and England to sit in, but neither of the three brothers took the seats. Bordeaux stood by Wales in a parade rest, her briefcase held stiff behind her back.

"Well then, anyone care to explain what this is?" Romano held up another copy of the Italian wizard newspaper Bordeaux had shown them earlier.

"That is commonly called a newspaper, its how people have been getting their daily news since its invention in 1605 in Belgium." England teased.

"I don't have time for your dull wit." He pointed at the news article. "So some wizard bastard tried to break into the British Branch of Gringotts, but it happened months ago! Why didn't any of you tell me?"

Scotland shrugged his shoulders and sighed, "its way too early to get this rowdy, the situation is handled, there was no need to bring it to your attention."

"Why not?" Romano asked, perplexed. He knew Scotland was the representative of magical Britain, and Wales headed the British branch of Atlas. England's own son was the Boy Who Lived and the Irelands knew their way around the wizarding undergrounds as well. They were usually on top of all this and probably knew more about the wizarding world than their own Minister of Magic (which actually wasn't that hard). Even Bordeaux, human as she was, would have an invested reason to resolve this problem as soon as possible; she was part of Hetalia's special operative team to combat he Death Eater threat.

If they didn't feel there was an immediate need to act, there must have been a reason. "What was stolen?"

"Nothing." Scotland replied.

"Fine, let me rephrase that: Which vault was targeted?" Romano hissed.

The Kirkland Brothers shifted in their spots, those stiff upper lips would not give up their information so easily.

"Detective." Romano ordered her to answer.

"It was vault Seven-hundred and Thirteen." She surrendered.

Anger clouded over Romano's eyes, the special package that Hetalia and that old wizard Dumbledore were collaborating to protect was in that vault. If someone was trying to steal it, that didn't mean anything good.

"And none of you felt compelled to share this important situation with me?" Romano nearly shouted.

Wales sighed and stretched his arms above his head. "The situation is under control. That's all I have to report." He said sternly. "The Stone is still perfectly safe in Hogwarts." He said, in hope to end the conversation quickly.

Romano studied Wales' stubborn face. The Head of the incredibly small, British Atlas branch could have been mistaken as England's twin, except Wales' hair was a few shades darker, like sand or brown sugar. Like his brother, he preferred to do things his own way. Scotland wore the same cold expression as his other brothers. He used to head the British Spartan branch but has since been reduced to a near redundant desk job at the Minister's side. He represented Magical Britain, but in recent years, the position seemed to be in name only. England, of course, often represented the United Kingdom when the occasion arose and had a comfy(albeit, invisible) seat between the Queen and the Prime Minister in Muggle matters. All three of them were already pushed around by their idiotic and incompetent Boss, Cornelius Fudge; their hardened green eyes said they didn't want to deal with Romano or Hetalia today either.

"That answer isn't good enough." Romano scolded.

"Why not?" Scotland said, "We're already working with Dumbledore to keep it safe. With what we've done to protect it in Hogwarts, no one is going to even get near the Stone."

"But some sorry bastard tried." Romano countered. "If breaking into Gringotts didn't scare the shit out of this lowlife ingrate, no way an old man and an even older mirror will deter the fucker."

Something flared inside Scotland, Romano insulted his mother's mirror like it was a useless trinket. But Romano held up his finger to indicate he had more to say.

"Look at this," he pointed to the papers, "there is something to report, or we wouldn't have this insufferable waste of ink and parchment," he said, holding up Skeeter's article, "this whole thing was supposed to be a secret operation. But someone from outside knows about the Stone."

England's eyes flicked from the newspapers back to Romano, he didn't like where this was going. Scotland felt him shift slightly beside him.

"If some asshole tried to steal the Stone that day, they'd likely try again. The damn thing grants its owner immortality. And who in recent history do we know was interested in that sort of thing?"

"You can't honestly believe those rumours." England spat.

A spark flared in Romano's eyes as the corner of his lips turned up in a sly grin. Finally, one of them took the bait. "Don't you remember how far that jerk bastard went to try and cheat death?" Romano rose from his seat.

"You don't have to remind me!" England yelled and stood to match Romano's eyes.

"Then I shouldn't have to remind you how much that snake bastard tore Europe and Asia apart." Romano breathed, all the while, Scotland remained silent. He was reluctant to jump on the train of thought England and Romano had followed, rubbing at his arm absent mindedly. "You guys might enjoy stabbing each other in the back, but if my fratello gets hurt again, it's on you." Romano warned.

"Low blow, Mr. Romano." Wales breathed.

England sat back down in a huff, tapping his fingers on Romano's desk impatiently. "What do you suggest we should do, then?"

Romano leaned back in his chair, "The only people who were supposed to know the Stone was moving— other than us— is Nicolas Flamel and the Minister, some trusted goblins, and that bastard Dumbledore and his coworkers. Somewhere in that circle of trust, the information leaked, or someone is working against us."

"You want to put an Atlas spy in the Ministry and at Hogwarts?" Wales suggested.

"I want extra security around that Stone," Romano clarified.

Scotland nodded, making a mental note to pass on to Dumbledore, if one great wizard trap wasn't enough to satisfy Romano, maybe five or six more would do the trick. "I'll let Dumbledore and the Minister know, Romano. Have a bloody good day." He said, and he got up to leave.

"No. I want Hetalia on the job." Romano prepared himself for what he'd say next, "and if there's going to be a fight, I'd want a couple Spartans on the job too."

"You know why we can't do that," Scotland said. Romano locked eyes with Scotland and crossed his arms, unimpressed.

"Enlighten me, bastard."

"You know we're not allowed to have Spartans on the British Isles anymore, not after what we'd done." Scotland explained, "Not unless we hold a World Meeting there, or there's a national emergency. Fudge doesn't think there's any problem. He'll never allow it."

"Well tell your Minister I think he's an idiot. I think there's a problem, and it could escalate to an international emergency."

"We know he's an idiot, and he'll think this is a breach of trust. He'll think we're trying to re-establish our own personal armies." Scotland said, and waved his arms to gesture at himself and his brothers. "If he thinks we're a threat, he could reduce our power over wizarding Britain even further if he so wanted."

"That would be awful." Romano quipped.

"That's not the only problem," England spoke up. "Spartan and Atlas are known in the wizarding world, if we send agents to Hogwarts, that could bring Hogwarts to the attention of whoever's trying to steal the Stone. Sending Spartans to Britain won't just be a red flag for Fudge, it could put a target on Hogwarts." England said. He opened his mouth as if to continue; his brothers knew he was concerned about Harry's safety too, but he wouldn't allow his human life cross over into this world.

But Romano knew what England wanted to say, "It's nice to see you concerned for your son's well being for once. Do you know what would guarantee he is not put in harms' way? Catching whatever bastard is trying to get the Stone!"

England's fists clenched in his pockets.

"Our hands are tied, Romano." Wales tried to reason, "The most we can do is have the Hogwarts teachers put up more spells and traps to guard the Stone, maybe we can get Det. Bordeaux and Cmdr. Waverly special permissions to spend more time on the Isles, but we can't have Spartans on British soil anymore."

A smile crept onto Romano's face as he shrugged his shoulders, he had a simple solution to the brothers' plight. "Then we'll send a Spartan in secretly."

"That definitely won't be bloody breach of trust!" Scotland cried in dismay.

"Wait, sirs, I believe there's a small loophole in former Minister Bagnold's decree that we can exploit." Bordeaux said cheerfully, "Essentially, it says that, outside of Nation Meetings or a national emergency, no Spartans or Atlas agents besides me and Cmdr. Waverly are allowed on British or Irish soil. It seems airtight, doesn't it?"

The Kirkland brothers nodded.

"So if we decide to go forward with this motion, we'll send in Captain Song's team." Bordeaux said.

"That's even worse." Wales said, "If the Minster won't let a Spartan on British soil, there's no way he'll let a Lionheart on there, much less a team of them. Headed by the former members of the Witch Hunt Project? If they get caught we're bloody done for sure. We can't send them."

"Why not, sir?" Bordeaux asked, "They're trained to deal with magical threats, and they're not really considered true Spartans, it would be perfectly legal. The whole team is experimental, yes, and we just put them under the control of the International Branch so Commander Waverly could keep an eye on them. To the Ministers of Magic they may be liabilities, but for us right now, they're our greatest assets."

"The Ministers of Magic think they're a liability because most of that team is made up of Lionhearts." Wales said, "Fudge may be ignorant of the Muggle World and the true scope of what we do here, but he sure as bloody hell knows even the mere existence of Lionhearts is barely legal. They're humans with the powers of a Nation—a Nation that Fudge couldn't control if he wanted."

"Technically, sir, it's only the first generation Lionhearts that possess Nation-like powers. The whole team is practically human by now." Bordeaux reasoned, the creation of Lionhearts became illegal after the First World War, but Wales still seemed unconvinced.

"No, this could actually work." England said. "Not the whole team, just Pte. Jones. She's family. She's not a Lionheart. If she gets caught, she could just say she was visiting one of us."

Wales and Scotland's eyes lit up. If someone really was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone, they had to find out who, and why. This was the only way that was remotely legal and gave them full control, without Fudge creeping over their shoulder all the time.

"That sounds wonderful," Romano said, for once, pleased. "We'll only send Pte. Jones active in the field." He pointed out. "Send her to Hogwarts as a reserve. While Det. Bordeaux investigates the Ministry." He got up from his seat and picked a dossier from one of his shelves. He opened it to reveal Capt. Song's team and flipped it to Jones' page.

"Any idea how we're going to get Jones in there?" Wales asked.

"The issue of getting her inside Hogwarts may be another problem. Our window may have just closed, the year has already started. Getting her on the staff may prove a challenge." England sighed.

"We'll think of something," Scotland said confidently, flipping through Jones' file. He saw Amelia's smiling face at him in the corner of the page and remembered they'd have to congratulate her on finally graduating and making a team. He was interupted in his thoughts by Bordeaux's pager loudly sounding off.

Bordeaux fished the pager from her pocket and read the message as it scrolled across the screen. She relayed to the others that the meeting would finally start in less than ten minutes. Mr. Norway had caught the troublesome Spartan.

"Let's hope our golden girl survives the week." She said dully, she turned the pager out so the Kirkland brothers could see the text as it scrolled past on the screen.

'pt. Jones et Pt. Laguardia safe aprhnd'

Romano hid a laugh behind his hands. "What a great start to her career," he teased.

With the meetings done for the week and some of the Nations and their Bosses already sent on their way home, it was another job well done. Even most of the Atlas and Spartan agents had retired for the night, except for SPARTN's fearless leader, Commandant Waverly.

It was past midnight, and the middle aged wizard had retreated into a quiet and empty bar in a nearby hotel, and was nursing a cool beer.

"Long week, huh Will?" Someone tapped him on the shoulder and took the stool beside him.

"Not as long as yours, I heard." Waverly teased, his speech slightly slurred. "Got that report for me done?" He asked.

Capt. Song nodded tiredly and checked to see what beers they had on tap. He asked the bartender for a pint of Heineken and rested his head on the counter. The thick varnish stuck to his cheek and was peeling in some places along the counter, but he was too tired to care. The bartender placed Song's glass of beer in front of his face, engulfing Waverly in an amber glow.

"It should be in your inbox by tomorrow." Song groaned, he was so embarrassed he had to fill out one of those dreaded forms that basically said 'I didn't keep an eye on my monkeys well enough and they went and stole Mr. Germany's car'. He sat up to take a sip of his beer, groaned, and set his head back down again.

Waverly smiled and pat his friend on the shoulder.

"So Xiaolong, how did you enjoy your first week as a real Captain?"

"I miss working as Veronica's Lieutenant." Xiaolong pouted, taking another sip of his beer.

Waverly couldn't help but laugh, Song and his wife had worked on the same team for a couple years, and now he was working on his own as a new Captain. Waverly took a generous swig from his own bottle and joked, "What, you don't like the Dragons?"

"No, no, they're fine. The Lionhearts, Messer and Takehiko and Laguardia, they're fine. They actually work quite well together and they're so much more manageable than I first thought they would be, actually." Song said. The Commander's eyebrows shot up in surprise. This was great, everyone else in Hetalia was worried the experimental team would end in disaster.

"And what about Lieutenant Volkova and Private Jones?" Waverly asked.

Song let his head fall to the counter again.

"Ha! After you fought tooth and nail to get them on your team?"

Song gave the Commander a smirk and took another sip. He thought they would be great additions to the team. When he was assigned the three Lionhearts for this experimental team and had to choose a couple other agents to assist him, he thought of Valkyrie and Amelia. Both Valkyrie and Amelia had prior experience with SPARTN, and had worked alongside Lionhearts whether it was official work or not. And he'd worked with the two of them before. Professionally, they were an optimal choice. So when he heard Valkyrie's membership to SPARTN was reinstated, and Amelia had finally finished her official training, he jumped at the chance to get them on his team.

Though personally, he just liked the sense of nostalgia, familiarity and belonging they could offer. But then again, "They're the reason I'm in this mess," the Captain sighed, "What if the Spartan Heads decide they'd rather not risk having a team of Lionhearts again? Mr. Lovino's already threatened me with demotion."

"I haven't heard anything like that yet." Waverly said to try and encourage his friend.

"I guess that's hopeful. If you hadn't heard anything, the decision is probably still pending."

"It could be just an empty threat. But I can put a word in to Mr. Lovino, he should at least give you guys another chance." Waverly said, "It's only been a couple weeks honestly, they can't suspend you right away."

"Da, that's right, we can't have the team disbanded so soon."

Russia had come up behind them and greeted them with his arms wrapped tightly around the two men. Both of them were quite flustered at the Nation's sudden appearance.

"Mr. Russ—Mr. Braginski," Waverly caught himself and switched to Russia's human name in case the bartender overheard. "I didn't hear you come in, I didn't know you were still up." he stammered.

"Ha, Mr. Braginski, I thought you were already escorted to your hotel room." Song laughed nervously. "Your flight home leaves early tomorrow, Sir."

Russia's childlike smile was quickly dashed and replaced by a long and drooping pout, as if he didn't hear the men's concerns at all.

"I thought we were friends," Russia said with slight tint of disappointment in his voice, "I told you, you can call me Ivan, da?"

With strained smiles, the two men nodded and invited 'Ivan' to sit with them. Russia nearly shoved Waverly off his stool when he took it. Russia settled himself happily between the Captain and Commandant, and ordered a vodka for himself. He turned to Song and asked.

"The team will not be disbanded will it? After all my Boss invested a lot into it, and Valka loves working in SPARTN again!" Russia exclaimed with gleeful delight.

"Well if I don't clean up my act and get the team under control, there's no telling how long it'll last." Song sighed, "And I was just getting used to this job."

Song downed the rest of his drink and rested his head in his arms. He suddenly felt sick of the thought that he'd have to work in Atlas again.

He didn't mean any offence to Det. Bordeaux and her father, but working under them in Atlas was a far cry from what he grew up with and what he expected Hetalia really was. But he supposed he'd take an administrative job over—well nothing else really. He had nothing left for him back in Macau; and if he did leave Hetalia, it wouldn't leave him. He'd be put under close and careful surveillance. Song knew about the Nations, and he most certainly was not supposed to. He was simply thrown into the world of magic and nations when the world was thrown into chaos. Same as Bordeaux and Jones really, dragged into all this insanity by a world at war.

But for some twisted reason, that's why he loved working in SPARTN with the Waverly's: it was just something he had grown accustomed to, and quite frankly, enjoyed. Not that he wished for all the worst emergencies that would need the attention of a SPARTN team, but it was his job and he wanted to do it the best he could.

And he didn't want to let his team down. If things were to fall apart now, the Lionhearts on his team would have to be sent back to their home countries and put on a tight leash, again. He knew he had to get his head in the game and stay strong for the sake of his team, but for some reason, he was just scared. And that's why he was there, waiting in an empty bar and hiding from his boss and the bad news that could potentially bring his world come crashing down again.

Russia pat him gently on the shoulder. "Do not worry, comrade. I will not let Mr. Lovino dismantle the team." Russia said with a friendly smile on his face, shining with pure confidence that actually helped Song lift his spirits. "My Boss is still interested in what they can do, and I told you, Valka enjoys it."

Song felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped ten degrees. Of course, Russia was still smiling like a child, those violet eyes bored into Song. He could never get used to the unnerving way Russia spoke and could turn like a dime; with a kind of innocence that belonged to child, but tinged with the sense of a vicious nature most Nations have learned to hide by now. "You will work to ensure the team remains operational, da? Because Valka is happy working with you again, and I always want my friends to be happy. Don't you?"

"Yes, yes of course Mr. Br—of course Ivan, I'd love to make Valka happy." Song said, he tried to sound confident but he was a bit tense from that unwavering smile Russia kept up this whole time. Russia closed his eyes and cocked his head to the side, pleased at Song's answer.

"That's what I like to hear!" He exclaimed. Then, Russia turned to face Waverly, "Call Mr. Lovino and Det. Bordeaux right now." He ordered.

Waverly was much less affected by the frightening atmosphere that surrounded Russia. He almost looked a little confused at first, but then dutifully complied.

"Of course, Ivan. Right away, Ivan." He stumbled off of his stool and knocked over his cane. He grabbed onto Song's arm for support and dug his phone out of his pocket. He punched in the number for Det. Bordeaux. It rang a few times before she answered.

"Bonjour?" She asked as she walked into the bar. She pulled her cell phone away from her ear, snapped it closed and placed it back into her purse. "Every time we're in Germany you're here."

"Well this is the last bar in Frankfurt that Mr. Jones and Mr. Braginski hadn't been banned from. So what's you and your standing bitch face doing here?" Waverly asked much too loudly.

She merely scoffed, by now she quite used to the antics and mannerisms he displayed when they weren't watched by official world leaders. This was fairly tame. "I need to speak with Captain Song. Orders from on high." She tapped her Atlas pin with two fingers.

Bordeaux and Song met eyes, and nodded.

Bordeaux stooped to pick up Waverly's cane while Song helped him limp over to the newcomer. When Waverly reached out to grab it, she pulled it out of his reach.

"Don't tell me you're drunk already," Bordeaux accused.

"I'm just a bit tipsy. You can't really judge me for stumbling, I'm a cripple!" Waverly scolded.

Bordeaux gave a hearty laugh and shot a sharp smirk at him, they both knew he liked to flaunt his battle scars, but he was far from helpless. "Honestly how many have you had?"

"Five!" He said quickly. "I am not a lightweight."

"Bartender?" Bordeaux asked.

"One." He called. Song brought his palm quickly to his face.

Bordeaux handed Waverly's cane to him and leaned into his ear, "Your 'Kirkland' is showing," she teased.

Waverly scoffed and limped back to the bar. She glanced at Waverly's abandoned drink and Mr. Russia sitting at the bar, smiling blissfully at his 'friends'. She nodded her head in the direction of a booth nearby, out of earshot of the bartender and led Song to it.

The red vinyl backing of the booth squeaked and groaned as Song scooted into it. Bordeaux gracefully took the seat opposite him and set an official looking dossier on the table.

"I'll just cut to the chase, I have a mission for your team . The security of the Philosopher's Stone may have been compromised." She said, quick and stern. "I need Pte. Jones for a special reconnaissance operation." Bordeaux said. Song flipped through the dossier and skimmed the pages. Bordeaux had shown him this dossier a couple weeks before, but it looked amended to include Private Jones' and Takehiko's new files. The numerous situations it once held was reduced to a single docket: the chosen situation to execute the objective. He'd helped her come up with a few of the situations himself, but he'd never think any of it would actually been green lighted, considering his current status.

"A mission from ATLAS?" Song asked.

Bordeaux nodded in confirmation.

"Am I getting demoted?" He asked sheepishly. Bordeaux gave him sideways look, and he suddenly felt embarrassed he'd be so concerned about going back to Atlas, like child.

"No," Bordeaux said softly, dropping her strict business like tone for but a second. "It's actually imperative that you maintain your status as a Spartan Captain and continue your regular duties. It'll build your agent's cover."

Song flipped passed the agents' personnel files to the mission procedure. Volkova, and the three Lionhearts would be put on reserve should action be taken to protect the Stone. Meanwhile, the bulk of the mission would be executed Jones, performing reconnaissance at Hogwarts.

"Pte. Jones be alone?"

"You can't take Amelia off the team!" A cherry faced Waverly interupted, as he leaned over the low wall of the booth. He gripped a new bottle of beer in his hand and the smell of it tinged his breath. "I was just getting used to having so many loyal underlings to order around."

Bordeaux reached up and shoved Waverly away, "go home already Will, you're drunk!"

"I'm just a bit tipsy," he pushed back against her hand. "Besides, our plane home doesn't leave until tomorrow afternoon." He said slowly, careful not to slur his words.

"Just leave." She pushed back again.

Waverly licked Bordeaux's palm.

She gasped and recoiled.

"You're such a child!" She reprimanded.

"At least I don't have a stick up my ass." He shot back.

"Ah, I hate it when mommy and daddy fight!" Song interjected in a mock whine. "What do you need, Will?"

Will leaned over the booth's half wall. He grunted as he reached for the dossier. Bordeaux pushed it out of his reach, just to tease him.

"Just walk around the damn wall, Will." Song grabbed it and handed it to Waverly. Waverly smiled and said under his breath, "this is why you're my favourite." He stood up straight and limped around the wall to their booth, his cane tapped sharply on the tiled floors.

Bordeaux shot a toxic look at Song, her eyes practically screamed bloody murder. Waverly came around the booth and pushed Song deep into the seat, and sat down beside him.

Waverly opened the dossier and studied it, pulling it out of reach and close to his face when Bordeaux reached for it again.

"Oh, a special reconnaissance mission." He said, and blew a low whistle as his eyes stayed fixed on the first line of the page. Bordeaux could see his eyes weren't even moving, the words would swim around too much in his current state. But he continued and pat Song hard on the back, "Congrats buddy, you're not just some glorified hired gun for security anymore," He said in a joking tone.

Song waved Waverly's hand off and sighed.

"The mission is in Britain..." Waverly mused. "Maaaags" he whined the detective's nickname, "this is illegal," he pretended to wipe tears from his face, "if the British Minister catches wind of this, who knows what it could mean for SPARTN."

"That's why we need to keep it covert." She said through gritted teeth. "We need to keep this on a strictly need to know basis. We have to-" she pursed her lips as she tried to read his expression. "What, Will?"

The commander wore a shit eating grin on his face, with his head resting on his palms and rosy cheeks from the alcohol, it could have looked like he would be flirting with the detective.

He cracked open his smug smile and laughed, "I knew you still had it in you, Mags I am so proud."

"Ha. Just go home already Will, before you leak all this." Bordeaux waved him off.

"Order me a taxi?"

"Oh you know, I'd really ought to get back to Tuscany." She said as she got up from her seat. She went over to the bartender and paid for Song and Waverly's drinks, then started to make her way out of the bar.

"Maaaaaags" Waverly called as she walked passed him without a second glance.

"I'll take you back to the hotel, we'll get a cab together. Just let me see if I have enough change..." Song said as he pulled Waverly back into an upright position. "Stop grovelling, you idiot! You're just as bad as Mr. Arthur Kirkland," He scolded, as he help Waverly limp to the door that Bordeaux held open.

"I can order a taxi for you two," Russia called from the bar. He set a few bills on the counter and ran to catch up to the three Hetalians. He smiled at Song and whispered coldly in his ear, "It's what friends do."

Both Waverly and Song turned to see Russia giving them his ominously childish smile. They forced their lips to form cheeky smiles that crinkled their eyes.

Bordeaux laughed and blew them a kiss for good luck.

"You'd better rest up you two, and get over that hangover quick, Will. Mission briefing at the French headquarters tomorrow. Oh-eight hundred hours generous enough for you? And make sure Private Jones makes it."

"Jones should be bailed out soon. I'm sure Mr. America would have time to pick out Harry's special package and bring Jones to the briefing tomorrow morning." Song explained.

He huddled closer to Waverly's body when the cool night air hit him. Bordeaux too, reflexively rubbed at her arms. Russia stood behind them, unaffected. He cut a cold and intimidating figure as he tried to hail a cab.

"I haven't seen the whole report yet, what exactly did she do?" Bordeaux mused, "After messing around with Mr. Switzerland, she ran into Mr. Norway, what next?"

Waverly finally fell asleep in Song's arms, the dead weight of the man brought the young captain to the ground.

Song groaned at how much trouble these damn American wizards cause him.

But then I saw another troll had grabbed Pte. Laguardia, so I turned back and cast a spell at the troll to let him go." Amelia continued her story as she and America made their way through the French Headquarters.

America had just bailed her out of holding after a night in the slammer. They got some good coffee and croissants in the French wizarding community and even picked up a brand new racing broom for Harry. Seeing America shine with glee between sips of coffee and excited glances at the Broom made her feel refreshed and ready for a new mission briefing.

"The troll dropped him, so I enchanted the ground so it would be a bit softer for him." she remembered the ordeal excitedly, the action of casting spells, fast paced in the field, with real stakes, was exhilarating. She'd never get that from an office job in Atlas.

"But then Mr. Norway cast a spell my way, I dodged it, like in the Matrix, Uncle Alfred!" America whooped excitedly, thinking of a fight between Neo and Mr. Smith.

"Then Mr. Norway cast another spell and this time I reflected it back at him. He fell and I actually felt really bad I'd raised a wand against a Nation." Amelia remembered she and Laguardia really freaked out, if she wasn't going to get court martialed before, she was sure that would have done it. "I went to go and help him up but it turned out I'd hit a decoy. Then he appeared behind me and clapped some handcuffs on." Amelia finished her story.

America smiled at his niece, "it's a good thing you didn't actually hit him, that would have been disastrous!" He ruffled her wavy wheat hair.

Amelia rubbed her forehead in embarrassment, "Yeah! I thought I'd be expelled for sure!" Cmdr. Waverly's angry expression was still fresh in her mind when she handed in her report earlier that morning. Bloodshot eyes and a scowl, she'd never really seen her cousin like that before. But she felt relief when he told her to meet him at the French Headquarters in a few hours for a special mission briefing and figured the whole debacle wasn't as bad as she thought.

They came to a door and America waved his ID card in front of the lock. The lock turned green and the door opened to a small auditorium. "Here we are."

The small auditorium only had a few filled seats. Mr. Scotland and the other British Isles sat at the very back, observing those below. The five of them turned and waved at Amelia and America. Mr. Romano was at the front, fiddling with a computer at the podium and a projector screen behind him.

None of the other Dragons were there.

The screen behind the podium flickered to life and flashed the a logo of a globe with a set of wings, not the red and white Spartan's helmet that she expected.

She saw the commandant sitting at the front of the auditorium, still pouting so much that he looked liked he'd just bitten into a lemon. He was wearing sunglasses and leaning on Capt. Song's shoulder.

"Tell the lights to shut up," she heard him moan.

"Just drink the damn coffee, it'll help with the hangover." Song ordered him.

A stern looking woman sat on Waverly's other side, holding a dossier in one hand and a tall Thermos in the other.

"How are you this hungover, Will? You only had two drinks."

"Yeah, two too many." He cursed under his breath and made a grabbing gesture for the Thermos.

She handed the Thermos to Waverly and he drank greedily. The woman turned to look at the new arrival, and stood up.

She walked over to Amelia and placed a docket in her hands. A docket that had the letters spelling out ATLAS stamped above that logo of the world.

"Good morning, Pte. Jones, I'm Det. Margaux Bordeaux, we've met before." She greeted.

Now Amelia remembered who Det. Bordeaux was. A lethal duelist and a genius to boot, she still seemed as tense and serious as when they were kids. Now she was the top detective at Atlas' International Branch. Technically her former boss...or her boss again.

Amelia must have shown an expression of consternation in her troubled face, because Bordeaux gave a slight shake of her head and pursed her lips. "You haven't been demoted, private. We just feel you alone are the best fit for this reconnaissance mission."

Amelia stuttered and fiddled with the corner of the dossier. She didn't really understand. "What? W-why me?"

"All the details are in this dossier. You're teammates will be briefed later but we need you on this assignment right away. We'll brief you now." She pointed to the empty auditorium and America nudged her shoulder. She had to think and focus on putting one foot in front of the other to properly get to a seat. By the time she sat down, she was struggling to calm down her heart beat.

Meanwhile, Bordeaux procured a remote control from her pocket and pressed a few buttons. The lights dimmed and the projector screen behind her glowed with a neon blue light.

"I have an important mission for you." She said. A black and white photo of an ancient looking bearded man appeared on the projector screen.

"This is Nicolas Flamel, a gifted wizard and alchemist, he and his wife are the only people in the world who possess a Philosopher's Stone. Recently," the screen changed to as newspaper clipping of Gringotts and a sensational headline splashed across the front, "the security of the Stone had been compromised. It is currently at Hogwarts, but to ensure its safety, we must identify any threat to the Stone and snuff it out."

"This is a highly covert mission. Because Spartans are not allowed on British soil, mission details are strictly on a need to know basis. Anyone not in this room, do not need to know."

"You will be divided into two teams," she explained, "the reconnaissance team and support. Captain Song, Lieutenant Volkova and the rest of your team will provide support should a confrontation ever arise. You, Pte. Jones, will be sent to Great Britain with me and Mr. Wales to execute the bulk of the mission."

The screen changed to a small country home in slight disrepair. Amelia recognised it, an old safe house Spartan used during the Project.

She turned to face Amelia, "Pte. Jones, you'll be working in the field. You will infiltrate Hogwarts, find any possible threats to the security of the Stone and report on the effectiveness of the measures Professor Dumbledore has put in place."

"You will use this safe house as a base of operation, along with Mr. Wales. It is already outfitted with enchanted office supplies to send reports to me and your Captain. You will not be using post owls." Bordeaux said.

Amelia nodded to show she understood.

Bordeaux dropped her voice to an ominous and serious tone. "And because we suspect You-Know-Who may be behind this, you will protect Harry Potter if his safety is threatened, but you cannot reveal your true identity. Am I clear?"

"Crystal. Ma'am." She said excitedly.

Bordeaux smiled and turned the lights back on. "There are more mission details and procedures outlined in your docket, consult them if you are at all confused. You leave for field as soon as possible, Mr. Scotland and Mr. England will bring you to field when you are ready." She finished.

"This sounds like such a cool first mission!" She said excitedly and began flipping through her docket, her heart was still racing but for now it felt good. The prospect of going to Hogwarts for a mission had chased her previous anxieties away. "How am I supposed to infiltrate Hogwarts-?"

"Like a super spy! Like James Bond or Oceans Eleven or Ethan Hunt!" America's eyes widened at the possibilities of Amelia carrying out her mission. "Maybe England will turn you into a kid and you'll get sorted into Gryffindor and you'll meet your cousin Harry oh it's going to be awesome!" he practically squealed.

"What are you on about?" Scotland laughed at America's excitement.

"I mean how else will she get into Hogwarts?" America pondered, "Or will she become a teacher? No that's boring! She won't have time to spy on Harry if she has to mark a hundred more kids' homework! Will you guys use magic and turn her into a kid? Will it be a cool potion or a charm? Or a ritual in England's basement? You know he has a really creepy basement right? There's a super creepy dungeon in the old estate up in Scotland! Hey, could I come along? I'd love to be sorted into Gryffindor again! And I'd get to spend time with Harry and save him and be the hero-"

"How much coffee did you have this morning?!" Scotland exclaimed.

Bordeaux spoke up, "Sir, there's no such thing as a de-aging spell or potion or ritual, and the solution to the problem right there." She pointed to Amelia.

"I am actually confused now." She admitted.

"There's no need to be," Bordeaux said softly, "I think you are uniquely qualified for this mission." She opened Amelia's docket to her personal file, a smiling portrait of herself shone from the top of the page. "I know you graduated at the top of your class and you've proven to be an accomplished duelist. Just earlier this week, you've shown you can think fast on your feet, and you look out for your teammate's safety as well as your own. No wonder you found a team so early out of graduation."

For the first time, Amelia saw Bordeaux smile, "If you're anything like your cousins, I have no doubt the mission will be a success. Just study the docket, you'll do fine." And she finally left with Mr. Romano.

Mr. Scotland set a firm hand on her shoulder. "I didn't get the chance to congratulate you yet."

"Thank you Uncle Al—I mean, Mr. Scotland." She tried saluting but it didn't seem right.

"At ease," Scotland sighed, he gestured to his brothers and Captain Song and the Commander who still acted a little groggy as if to say 'you're among family, drop the formalities'. "By the way, have you registered as an animagus yet?"

"Oh, no?" Amelia turned red with embarrassment. "I'll do it before we go."

"No, that's perfect." Scotland smiled. He glanced at America. "That broom is for Harry, right?"

America beamed and lifted the broom above his head. "Yup! Picked it up this morning! We just need to pen the card and we'll be ready to send them all off!"

Scotland smiled. This plan was off to a good start. He turned back to Amelia and set a steady hand on her shoulder. "If you had a pet cat, what would you name it?"