England knew, as soon as he found out that Umbridge had been made Hogwarts new High Inquisitor, that it was either him or her.
Unfortunately, killing her would ruin his plans of helping out in the war...so he had to lean back and just pray that he'd be out of Hogwarts before she brought fourth his demise (dramatic yes - but then again, it was Umbridge, so anything went).
England tried to remind himself of this as the woman's sickly voice filled his ears. She was assessing his class; his class. Who the bloody hell did she think she was? What did she think he was teaching the students about - the joys of porn?!
"So...it was Dumbledore who hired you, wasn't it?" Umbridge questioned, scribbling something on her notebook. England forced a smile onto his face and nodded his head.
"Yes. It was."
"Hmm...and why is that?"
"What?" 'Think happy thoughts England...think happy thoughts...'
"Why did Dumbledore hire you?" she asked. "How did he come to know about you?"
"Albus and I are old friends" England replied, stiffly. "He needed a professor to take over the posission of History of Magic, and I agreed."
"So...Dumbledore was obviously being unfair to the other candidates, hmm?" Umbridge murmured.
"I'm sorry?" England's jaw clenched.
"Well, if you two were friends, obviously he would have favoured you..."
"As far as I know" England replied, slowly. "I was the only 'candidate.' So no, I don't think Albus was being biased in any way."
"Hmm..." Umbridge scribbled something down on her notepad.
"May I begin now?" England demanded. "After all, I have a lesson to teach."
"Do you now?" Umbridge murmured. She scribbled something on her notepad. England closed his eyes, sighing out loud.
"How could that have possibly have held any substantial meaning to what you are inquiring about?" he demanded.
"No reason" Umbridge smiled at him. "Why don't you start the lesson now, hmm?"
"I will" England replied, eyeing her notepad with distaste. He turned to the class. "Good morning everyone, it is good to see you are all well -"
"- Assumptions, assumptions" Umbridge tutted.
England's eye twitched.
"I'm sorry?" he ground out.
"Well" Umbridge drawled, eyeing England with a gleeful spark in her eyes; England mentally shook his head. The woman could have at least attempted to hide the fact that she was enjoying this. "How do you know that everyone is well? Somebody could be dreadfully ill...it's those type of assumptions that could endanger the health and wellbeing of a student."
"...You're joking" England's jaw dropped open slightly.
Umbridge smiled. "I never joke about the safety of my students."
England jerkily turned to face the class and forced a pleasant smile onto his face. "Well then class" he said, as pleasantly as he could manage. "How is everyone? Not dreadfully ill or in danger of dying, I hope?"
No one answered.
"I'll take your silence as a 'no'" England said. He turned to Umbridge. "Is that alright? Or am I assuming to much?"
Umbridge waved a hand. "Carry on."
"Yes, well" England turned to face the class. "Today we will be starting a new topic..."
"And how long did you spend on the last one?" Umbridge cut him off.
England twitched. "Am I even going to be able to start this lesson?" he muttered.
"Well?" Umbridge asked, sounding impatient. She scribbled something down on her notebook; England found himself wondering if she was actually writing down anything, or if she was simply doodling on the paper in an attempt to get under his skin. It wouldn't surprise him if she was.
"We just finished the topic" England replied. "The class has been studying it since the year began -"
"Um, excuse me?" England turned to face the students; he wasn't too surprised to see that it was Hermione Granger who had spoken.
"What?" Umbridge asked; England was pleased to her a slight note of irritation in her voice.
"Well...Professor Kirkland's lessons have been quite interesting, in my opinion" the girl said. "I've learned an amazing amount from his classes, and I've found all of them to be interesting..."
Murmurs of agreement travelled around the room.
"That's lovely dear" Umbridge smiled falsely.
"And -"
" - Now be quiet" Umbridge cut her off and turned to England. "So" she said, in that sickly-sweet voice of hers. "Will you be starting the lesson or not?"
"That's what I've been trying to do" England said, with forced calm.
Umbridge raised an eyebrow. "Well talking to me isn't going to help these students...why don't you start making yourself useful, hmmm?"
"Class" England said, trying to hide his irritation; he was aware that he was probably failing horribly. "Today we will be learning about -" he twitched as the scratching sound of Umbridge's pen met his ears. He turned to face her, his jaw clenched. "Do you think you could write any quieter?"
"...slight mental instability" Umbridge murmured, narrating the words she wrote on the page.
"Pot calling the kettle black" England muttered.
"Class" he continued, hoping he could actually get the words out this time around. "Today I will be giving you a brief history on the magic of other cultures -"
"Why is that?" Umbridge asked. "What could they possibly gain by learning about foreign nonsense?"
England chose to ignore her.
"I thought we could begin with..."
"...France" Umbridge said.
"What?" England glanced at her, uncomprehendingly.
"Well" Umbridge replied. "If you're going to teach the children about this foreign nonsense, at least focus on a country with a large magical population."
"I think you'll find that almost every country has a bit of magic in it" England replied. 'Dammit...why won't this BITCH just shut up...?'
"You'll be starting with France."
England wasn't even bothering to hide his frustrations anymore; the students could all see this. Some exchanged uneasy glances; most looked anticipant at the thought of an explosion from the professor.
"The French" England snapped. "Are all bloody perverts. Next country - Finland."
"I'm sorry" Umbridge looked furious. "That is quite an insulting thing to say...what if there was a French person in this class?"
"Then I worry for the safety of the school!" England shot back. "Now can I continue with my lesson?"
"Unsatisfactory" Umbridge said, as she wrote the word down in her book. She glanced up at England and scowled slightly.
"I'll be taking my leave now" she said. "Expect to hear from me."
She walked out of the room.
"Thank bloody God" England groaned, his shoulders slumping. He glanced up at the class; they all stared at him with wide eyes. "...None of you are French, are you?"
...
America had been keeping an eye on Russia whenever he could.
The other Nation spent a lot of time on his phone nowerdays (none of the other Nations had commented on it though; it was almost as if they didn't find anything wrong with it...odd). America kept this fact carefully stored in his mental collection of notes labeled: "Russia and World War III."
Russia lifted his head to look at him and America quickly ducked his head down. He needed to be as discreet as possible; after Russia had caught him stalking him that one time, he couldn't risk something like that happening again. So far, things had been going well...
"America" America mentally cursed as Russia's voice met his ears. "If you have something to say to me, you will tell it to my face, da?"
"What are you talking about?" America laughed, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "I don't have anything to say to you...why would I have anything to say to you? That's ridiculous...I mean, it's not like your doing anything suspicious that would require me to talk to you. Of course not...so why would I want to talk to you?"
"...Idiot" muttered a nearby Nation.
Russia sighed, shaking his head. "You are pitiful, really" he told America. "Do you not think I have noticed you always staring at me? I've been paying very close attention to you, after I caught you following me..."
"I wasn't following you! I'm not a stalker!" America cried, defensively.
Russia stared at him. "Da. You are a stalker."
"Am not." America crossed his arms, scowling petulantly.
Russia sighed, shaking his head. "You will come outside and talk to me now" he told America, calmly.
"What?" America's eyes widened in alarm and he shook his head rapidly. "No!"
"Da, you will" Russia said, and his hand twitched towards his pipe. America swallowed and let out a nervous laugh.
"Hey you didn't let me finish! I was going to say no way thats just too awesome!"
Russia smiled.
Trying not to tremble (because hero's didn't show fear!) America walked out of the room, Russia following close behind.
"So" Russia said, once he had closed the doors behind him. "What is the matter, hmm?"
America stared at him, eyes wide. He tried to think about a good story...one he could tell Russia that would sound convincing, and would make the larger Nation think that America had no clue about his evil plans...
...Russia lifted his pipe ever so slightly.
The words came pouring out of America's mouth.
"I know what your planning! You're going to drag the world into another World War! Well I won't let it happen, because I'm the hero and hero's don't let stuff like that happen and...don't kill me with your pipe!"
Russia stared at him.
"...You don't scare me" America added, hastily.
"America" Russia sighed. "Why do you think I am planning on starting World War III?"
America stared at him. "Uh...well...you're on the phone a lot."
Russia nodded his head. "Go on."
"Uhh..." America scratched the back of his head, his eyes travelling awkwardly around the room. "You, ahh...mention the word 'attack' a lot...not that I've been listening in on your conversations or anything!"
Russia continued to watch him for a moment. "Yes" he said, after a moment. "And is that all you have?"
America shrugged. "It's enough to know that you're an evil, communist bastard."
"...There have been random attacks in my country" Russia said, finally.
"What?" America blinked, taken aback by the response.
"Yes" Russia nodded his head. "A small town was attacked first...then my capital."
America shook his head. "No way...if your capital was attacked, we would have heard about it."
Russia shrugged his shoulders. "Da, you would have" he agreed. "But the attacks have been very strange...my boss wished to keep them a secret because of this. There is no explanation for them..."
"...Because you made them up!" America said, pointing an accusing finger at him.
Russia shrugged again. "No, I did not" he replied. "According to the survivors from the first attack, a group of figures in black cloaks appeared and started shooting green lights out of sticks...you can understand why it was hard to believe them. But then there were similar claims after the second attack."
"Green lights out of sticks..." America's brow furrowed. "Sounds like magic."
"Magic?" Russia raised an eyebrow in slight amusement.
"Yeah" America's brow furrowed. "What, do you guys not have magic in Russia or something?"
"We do" Russia said. "But our magical community is very small...it is why I didn't even consider it as a possibility..."
"It probably isn't though" America said. "Because, knowing you, you're probably making it up."
Russia stared at him. "Why would I?" he asked, calmly. "You can verify this with my boss, if you like..."
America snorted. "You're boss is probably a liar too."
Russia continued, as if America hadn't even spoken. "...But you will not, because I will not let you. You are annoying."
"Ha!" America lifted his arm in triumph. "The hero has won, once again! I have revealed you, you evil fiend!"
Russia smiled, pleasantly. "Is that so?"
"Well, yeah!" America nodded his head rapidly. "Why else would you not want me to talk to your boss about it?!"
"...I thought I told you why; because you are annoying."
"Oh please" America snorted. "Like anyone would find the hero annoying...you're definitely hiding something! And I'll come to the bottom of it!"
Russia nodded his head. "Da."
"Oh don't 'da' me" America snorted. "You don't think I can do it? Just you wait! Soon, everyone will be watching an awesome, heroic-little-slideshow that will reveal your sinister plans!"
Russia cocked his head to the side. Then, smiling pleasantly, he walked back into the room.
America clenched his hands at his side...dammit, that Commie-Bastard was just too annoying! Well he would show him...
...With these thoughts on his mind, America smiled and walked back into the room, this time not even trying to be discreet with the long stare he shot Russia as he walked back to his seat.
"You're not dead" Canada said, sounding surprised.
America leapt in the air, yelping loudly. "When the hell did you get here?!" he demanded, trying to calm his racing heart.
Canada sighed, slumping back into his seat.