Notes: Year Two, aka Philosopher's Stone. Also introducing an OC state-tan, Tiffany. She's the representative of Massachusetts because of the Salem trials, not because of the nickname "Masshole"... I apologise in advance to any offended people from Massachusetts - you guys can just think of Tiffany as any other b!tch, not the official representative of MA. *is from California anyways*

Blurring House Lines: Year Two

Part I

Summer was a time for laziness and relaxation. For one Arthur Kirkland, it wasn't.

During his first year at Hogwarts, he had witnessed the destruction of Busby's Chair, a cursed chair that turned out to be a Dark Artefact known as a Horcrux. He had also learned that he was not human – that he was the representation of England. His friends were also representations of countries: Alfred F. Jones was America, Francis Bonnefois was France, and Nataliya Arlovskaya was Belarus.

They didn't know that, and Arthur wanted to tell them. But he had been sworn to silence.

They would find out in due course.

"The Horcrux is the receptacle in which a wizard has sealed away a part of his soul," Arthur read breathlessly. He was perched in a tree in the backyard of his house, his barn owl Driscoll on the branch next to him. "To create a Horcrux one must split their soul and seal that part in an object outside of the body."

Driscoll hooted and took flight.

"The wizard who creates a Horcrux will not truly die even when their body is destroyed, because the other part of their soul lies undamaged. He will wander as a spirit until he regains corporeal form, unless his Horcrux is also destroyed."

Arthur looked up from the book. It was an old one that the Headmaster of Hogwarts had lent him, entitled Secrets of the Darkest Art. Dumbledore had given him the book to be returned promptly when he had finished reading about Horcruxes, and from thereon he would be bound not to tell another person – especially Harry Potter – about them.

"A secret to the grave," he said to no one in general.

His musings were interrupted by his younger brother Peter, who came running out in a little sailor's outfit. Peter was only turning seven this year, but he was already starting his countdown to his eleventh birthday.

"Artie, Artie! It's lunchtime!"

"Coming, Peter," he called back. Closing Secrets of the Darkest Art, he jumped from the branch and landed lightly on his feet.

Arawn, his older brother who was also on holiday from Hogwarts, was placing the finishing touches on some sort of beef stew when Arthur entered the kitchen.

"That looks interesting," Arthur said as he sat down.

"Thanks," Arawn replied. He dished some out into three bowls. "Cheers. The rest we'll save for Liam and Erin."

Liam and Erin were the two oldest siblings in the family. They had jobs at the Ministry of Magic.

Arthur sat down and started eating his lunch. Halfway through, Driscoll came back with a snowy owl that was carrying a letter. Arthur recognised the snowy to be Pierre, Francis's owl.

"Hey, it's from Francis," Arthur said as he looked at the envelope. Besides the owl, only Francis would use expensive-looking stationery with the Eiffel tower emblazoned on every corner.

"Who's he, your boyfriend?" Arawn snickered.

"Shut up." Arthur's cheeks turned pink.

"Wait, no, it's not Francis," Arawn continued, not heeding the glare from his younger brother. "It's that Gryffindor that sits with you guys all the time. You know, the American? Alfred F. Jones?"

"SHUT UP!" Arthur nearly spilled his stew. "It's none of your sodding business!" He opened the letter. It read:

Bonjour Arthur,

Comment vas-tu? I am well. Right now, I'm in Paris; the lights are simply splendid and la tour Eiffel is très belle. You must see it sometimes; her beauty and size will take your breath away.

My sister and her cousin are delightful. Aurore is a little beauty and Mabel is quite charming. Beauxbatons will turn them into lovely young witches, I think.

I will return to l'Angleterre en Aout; hope to see you at Diagon Alley and Hogwarts.

Avec tout mon cœur,

Francis

Arthur folded the letter and slipped it into his pocket. Driscoll and Pierre hopped lightly onto the table and nicked some of his stew. He patted the owls fondly. Pierre must be tired from flying across the English Channel, after all.

In the early afternoon, another snowy owl came flying into Arthur's bedroom with another letter. Since the owl looked quite exhausted, Arthur gave it some food and water and let it fall asleep on his bookshelf.

The letter was from Nataliya.

Priyvitannie, Arthur!

How was your summer so far? I'm cold right now, but then again it's always cold at brother's house! He had Madeline over for dinner the other day – Papa Winter wasn't too pleased when she started asking for fish in the middle of dinner. Madeline doesn't seem to a cold-weather type of girl, but she makes brother happy so I suppose I should be happy as well.

Francis says that he's having fun in Paris; I think that means he's been frequenting that one place... what did they call it? The Moulin Rouge? Something like that. Although I think he'd be too young to enter. Maybe he'd use an aging potion. Anyways, I hope he doesn't get himself into trouble. And you too, stay safe.

Brother, sister, and I are returning in August. I hope to see you then!

Love,

Nataliya

Arthur grinned. It would be like Francis to attempt to enter those sorts of places. He patted the snowy owl's slumbering head; the poor bird would have to fly back to Russia tomorrow morning, after all.

He got out his parchment, quill, and ink, and started writing his responses.

It was near midnight when a majestic but tired eagle owl tapped at Arthur's window.

"Evening, Justice," he yawned as he opened his window. Justice, Alfred's owl, swooped into the room and stole the rest of the food from the dish before extending her leg to let Arthur detach the letter tied to it. "You came here all the way from America? That must be a tiring flight."

She hooted tiredly and swayed a little. Arthur led her over to the bookshelf where the snowy owl was still slumbering. Driscoll had gone off for a midnight flight. Justice took his spot on the bookshelf, falling asleep as well.

Arthur opened the letter.

Hey Artie!

I've had an awesome summer so far! The family reunion's still going on, though, and right now they're talking about stuff downstairs over beer and chips (that'd be crisps to you, I think. You Brits are so weird!) and a football game (not your type of football). Cousin Annabelle's playing the guitar in my room; she's really good but not as good as Cousin June. Cousin June knows all the country stars; she's from Tennessee, after all. Cousin Tiffany's busy being a lunatic in the backyard – I think she's got the hots for Cousin Ryan, which is really scary because they're cousins, right? I hope it goes away soon, it's starting to creep me out and heroes never get creeped out!

Cousin Tiffany's eleven right now, and she got her letter to Hogwarts the other day. That basically means I have to put up with her and her crush problems for six more years and I'm not looking forward to it but I guess I'll have to do it because I'm a hero! She's kinda creepy and sneaky though, which means she might be in Slytherin so good luck with that, Artie. I hope she doesn't end up with a crush on you. That would just be awkward.

I'm coming back to your soggy little island in three weeks! Tiffany and Mattie are coming with me. See ya at school or Diagon Alley!

From,

Alfred

Arthur chuckled a bit as he read the letter. "So I'll get to meet crazy Cousin Tiffany, huh," he muttered.

Driscoll flew in through the still-open window and hooted.

The Leaky Cauldron was crowded as usual when Arthur met up with Alfred three weeks later at the end of July. "Heya Artie!" Alfred F. Jones exclaimed as he hugged him. He was a little taller, a little broader about the shoulders, but he was still blonde-and-blue-eyed Alfred with glasses, a cowlick, and a hero complex.

"You've grown a bit," Arthur noted.

"Nah, you just shrunk." Alfred laughed as Arthur's cheeks reddened and he smacked Alfred about the arm.

Matthew Williams, a quiet shy boy in Hufflepuff, smiled. He, too, was blonde and wore glasses, but his eyes were violet and instead of a cowlick he had a curly strand of hair that dangled down from his forehead. He was carrying his polar bear like a security blanket. "Hello, Arthur," he said.

"Hello, Matthew."

"Artie, I'd like to introduce you to my cousin Tiffany!" Alfred was smiling, but he rolled his eyes as well and made a head tilt towards a girl standing a little ways away.

"So this is crazy Cousin Tiffany?" Arthur whispered, looking at her. "She doesn't seem too crazy."

He spoke too soon, because suddenly the girl started crying. "You're saying something mean about me, aren't you?" she howled.

"No, Tiff, not at all," Alfred said enthusiastically. "This is Arthur Kirkland, he's in my year and he's a Slytherin! I've told you about him, haven't I?"

"You didn't tell me he was mean!" Tiffany bawled. She had long black hair and wide blue eyes that at this moment were full of tears.

"She's really sensitive, eh?" Matthew whispered. "It doesn't take much to set her off, eh?"

"I thought she got angry a lot as well?" Arthur whispered back, as Alfred awkwardly patted Tiffany on the back.

"Oh, that too." Several people were looking around, and Arthur inched backwards, away from Alfred and Tiffany.

He collided with something huge.

"Hey, watch yer step!" said a familiar voice.

"Hagrid!" Arthur exclaimed, almost in relief.

"How ya doin', Arthur," Hagrid said cheerfully. "I'm on Hogwarts business, so I can't stay long." He clapped a hand on the shoulder of a dark-haired boy. Arthur looked at him.

"You know Hagrid, too?" Arthur asked the boy.

"I just met him yesterday," the boy said.

"Yeah, we're off to get 'im some books an' stuff," Hagrid explained.

Arthur smiled. "I'm Arthur Kirkland," he said, extending a hand.

"Harry Potter," the boy replied, shaking Arthur's hand.

Arthur blinked. Sure enough, right on the boy's forehead was a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. "N-nice to meet you, H-Harry Potter," he stammered, his face going pink.

So this is Harry Potter?