Plaintive- (adj.) expressive of sorrow or woe, melancholy.
In which The United States of America and the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland suffer post-Deathly Hallows withdrawal.
To find England sitting in a room with his older brothers was an unusual sight. To find England sitting in a room with his older brothers in a giant group hug as they all cried was the sort of thing that makes you test to see if you're in a dream. America, upon finding the group of sobbing siblings, attempted to do just that. He attempted to stick his fingers through his opposite hand, looked at his watch to see if the hands moved, and attempted to imagine away gravity. Not a dream, then. Shit. He was actually going to have to deal with this.
"Hey, guys. Are you okay?" He asked, approaching the United Kingdom. England lifted his head from the huddle to reveal bloodshot eyes. Wales sniffled as England grabbed America's wrist and pulled him into a hug.
"Of course not, you bastard!" Northern Ireland sniped. "Don't you have eyes?"
"Don't be so mean to the lad. He couldn't know what's going on." Scotland lectured his brother. The two redheads collapsed against each other and began sobbing again.
"What's going on? Were you attacked? Is anyone hurt?" America began to panic.
"It's over," Mumbled Wales. "It's all over."
"What? What's over? I swear, if you need me to help you guys, I totally will!"
"The book, America." England whispered.
"What book?"
"The Deathly Hallows. Harry Potter is completely over." America's eyes widened.
"You've read it already!? How? It doesn't come out for another two days! I pre-ordered it and everything!"
"National privileges," Explained Scotland. "Rowling is one of our authors, so we were given the book yesterday. I feel like there's a void in my heart knowing that there isn't another one of these coming up."
"I hadn't pegged you as the sentimental type, Scotland."
"I'm not, but it's Harry Potter! You'll understand once you read the book." Scotland passed a copy of the book to America.
"Thanks! I can't wait to read it!" America spun on his heel to remove himself from the crying siblings so he could read in peace.
"Before you go, America, I have one favor to ask you." Northern Ireland piped up. "England and Wales seem to be a bit shellshocked. We'll take care of Wales, but can you bring England into the other room with you. I feel like letting him sit near you while you read might help him a little. Oh, and I'm sorry for calling you a bastard, bastard." America smiled and flung England over one shoulder. England's bedroom would probably be the most comfortable place to read if it was going to be the two of them in the room.
When England finally recovered enough to be aware of his surroundings, he realized that he was lying in his bed. His second observation was that there was someone lying next to him crying quietly. When he turned, he saw America, a book, and tears.
"America, how are you holding up?"
"E-England? Why did she have to kill Dobby? And Hedwig? And Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, George's ear, and all of those other characters?" America clutched the closed book to his chest.
"I don't know, America. To make the war-scenario more realistic? I really don't know." He held the American close as they cried together.
"I can't believe it's over, England. She has to write more!"
"God, I really hope so. I really hope so."
When dawn broke, the two nations went to seek out the remaining pieces of the United Kingdom. Together, in a giant pile of a group hug, the five countries mourned.