/AN/ U-um... H-Hi... guys! *hides behind a chair* I'm sorry I died, but... I had school, and... And... I HATE MATH SO MUUUUUUCHHHHH... T~T Oh- I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE! I currently have 120+ reviews! That might not sound like too many, but it is to me! And I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed my story, or added it to your favorites, or followed it, it means so much! I'm so glad you all like it and I'm going to try and keep you all happy! I expected maybe thirty reviews at the tenth chapter, not 100! You're all the reason this story is still around, everyone who's followed this, added it to your favorites and reviewed! You are all awesome, I really mean it. All of you. I suppose you came for the chapter, not me talking, but I have some other stuff to say. I know I've been using Alfred's POV a lot but... He's the one going around doing stuff. I must get the ball rolling before the Golden Trio does anything much. Well, it's rolling, just... Not fast enough? Anyway, they'll be in there more soon. And there's even a bit with England at the end! No Clark the owl, though, but there's somebody else there with him who I think you'll enjoy- I'm adding an OC now! That's all; you can read the chapter now.

Disclaimer- I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter, if I did it wouldn't be on a 'fan fiction' website, would it?

Alfred's POV

"Mattie, I got a book!" Alfred announced after checking to make sure Madam Pomfrey was busy and no other students were there.

The Canadian stared at him. "What book?" He asked doubtfully, attempting to sit up.

"Some sort of potions book." He said, handing it to him.

Canada flinched after trying to hold it with his broken arm, then set it down on the bed next to him and began flipping through it.

"What is this for?" He breathed, staring in horror at a very detailed illustration of someone covered in boils, looking like they were screaming in pain.

Alfred looked warily at Madam Pomfrey, and then whispered, "The librarian said there was something in there about people... Y'know, turning into other people."

"Like shape-shifting or cloning?" Canada asked, suddenly more interested.

Alfred nodded.

America noticed that Canada began turning the pages much more carefully, as if his existence depended on that book staying in top condition, but then it hit him- their existence very well might depend on that book.

This thought quieted him down, and he silently watched his injured brother turn the pages of the worn-out book.

"Alfred, do you think she used this book?" Canada asked, and his eyes were locked on one page, and it seemed like he was trying to block it from his brother's view.

Then Madam Pomfrey came by before America could answer and glared. "You have five minutes. Then Matthew needs to rest."

America sat up straight, determined to find a lead in that five minutes. "Well dude, you know how awesome I am at finding things, I bet whoever it is doesn't even have half my talent, I doubt they'd be able to find such a good book for that subject." He told his brother proudly, believing every single word of his sentence.

"What about…" Canada turned the book so that America could see it. "…Now?"

Canada's POV

At the top of the page in faded lettering it said, "Polyjuice Potion". Under the title was a long, detailed description of the potion; it seemed to be what they were looking for. The potion had the ability shift the consumer's appearance so that they resembled another person, and judging by the pictures on the book, it wasn't a pleasant initial transformation.

"It's what she did," Canada whispered, "Well, we think so anyway..."

"Know so." America corrected stubbornly.

Canada sighed. "America, we still don't know if this is what she used! We're just pretty sure that she-" Canada hushed his voice (more than it was already was) to say what he finished his sentence with, "-that she wasn't really Madam Pomfrey."

"Dude, you gotta just assume stuff sometimes. That's part of being the hero! You have'ta assume you're right!" America said loudly, laughing. "But I guess you're just my sidekick, so you wouldn't know that."

"Well at least he's back to his normal, loud, obnoxious self." Canada thought, a weak smile on his face.

Canada continued to look over the page on Polyjuice potion, and when he had gone over it a few times, he decided that America was right, this was their best lead and it was reasonable to assume that this was the potion used by whoever had pretended to be Madam Pomfrey.

The only problem with this assumption, the northern nation realized, was that there was no way to prove it, as the assumed fake Madam Pomfrey had left. They needed to figure something else out, and fast, before something bad happened. And Canada had a feeling that they didn't have much time.

Harry's POV (the next day)

No matter what he did, Harry couldn't seem to get interested in Alfred's suspicious behavior. Hermione, on the other hand, had begun following the American practically everywhere, insisting that he and Ron go with her. She had even sent Harry and Ron into a bathroom after him a few times. She didn't seem to understand that Quidditch season had started, and he needed to practice. Even when he actually decided to pay attention to Hermione's rants about how odd Alfred was behaving, he would realize that Wood had scheduled a practice that he would be late to if he didn't leave at that moment.

Harry sighed and tried to move his attention back to his Charms class, where Professor Flitwick was teaching them how to make a magical sort of tracking device. You needed to link two objects; one was the object being tracked while the other could tell you where it was. Harry wasn't sure about any details, he wasn't paying enough attention.

Right now, Professor Flitwick was trying to help Neville, who had accidentally merged a book and the bird he was trying to track.

Harry looked over at Alfred, and was shocked to see him feverishly reading an old, thick book.

Harry kicked Ron under the table, and motioned over to where Alfred looked like he was starting a page over again, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Bloody hell... Hermione may be right, since when does Alfred read in his spare time?" Ron muttered. "And since when does he know how to read in the first place?"

Alfred seemed to realize he was being watched, and he glanced up at the two boys. A grin crossed his face and he waved from a few desks away, and Harry and Ron waved back, confused looks on their faces.

"Well, he seems a bit better." Harry decided, smiling.

After class, (which had been uneventful other than Neville's book/bird) Harry and Ron told Hermione what they had seen. Hermione was very interested, and started asking questions. "Did you see what book it was?"

"No."

"What was on the page?"

"I don't know."

"When he smiled, did he look happy? Was it a sad smile?"

"Yes Hermione, because loads of people smile when they're sad. No, he was perfectly happy."

"Well, I suppose this is good. Alfred is cheerful again!" Hermione said brightly.

"Yes, I suppose it is." Harry said with a shrug.

"Hey guys! What's up!?" called their over-excited American friend who was running towards them.

"Nothing really." Hermione said quickly.

"Oh, that's cool I guess..." He sighed, then his head jerked up as if he had just remembered something deathly important. "I don't really have anything to do, so I think I'm gonna go see Mattie, I just remembered that I thought of something earlier that I have to tell him anyway." The American said quickly, turning around.

He began to walk away when Harry called after him. "Hey Alfred, could we come with you? We've been meaning to go see him, so maybe we could go now with you."

Harry really had wanted to see Matthew more often, everything else had just piled up, for example Hermione's sudden urges to look something up in the library that she felt would help them figure out Alfred's behavior, or, studying for exams that only seemed to come when he was busy with other things, and of course Quidditch practice.

Harry was also interested in Alfred's behavior, he was acting strangely secretive, when normally he would force them to come and tell them every detail of what he was planning to say.

Alfred's eyes went wide a moment at Harry's request, until he laughed nervously. "Um, Madam Pomfrey doesn't like it when he's got too many visitors, so-"

"I'm sure she won't mind if we're not there for too long, besides, he'll surely like a few extra visitors!" Hermione assured him.

"But-" Alfred was immediately interrupted.

"Come on Alfred, why can't we see him?" She snapped suddenly.

"I... Um... Well, I guess you can." He said finally, causing Harry to become more suspicious. What was so bad about seeing Matthew? And what did Alfred want to tell the sick Canadian?

Alfred led the way reluctantly to the Hospital Wing, where, to their surprise, Dumbledore was sitting by Matthew, talking to him. When they noticed the four walk in, Dumbledore smiled and stood, while Matthew looked like he was shoving something in his pocket.

"Goodbye then, Matthew, get better soon." Dumbledore smiled, standing. He looked at the four for a moment, finally saying, "Matthew is lucky to have a brother like you Alfred, I wish you two well." Then he gave the others a nod and left.

"Whoa, dude, what was that about!?" Alfred asked excitedly.

"He just wanted to see if I had gotten any better." Matthew said quickly.

"Have you? Alfred's been coming here a lot, so I've started to worry... How did you get so many injuries? Hold on a minute, those look the injuries you got at flying practice..." Hermione ranted, slowly looking more worried as she talked.

"O-oh, um, we'll they aren't the same injuries of course! Madam Pomfrey healed me after that! ...Well I think I should be better in a few days. How did I get these? Well... Err...It's a long story and I shouldn't be talking too much, Alfred you tell them!" Canada said with a weak smile, earning a suspicious look from Hermione.

Hermione was right. Harry thought. Matthew and Alfred were hiding something.

?'s POV

He looked up as he heard the 'clacking' of shoes in the hallway. A grin played across his face as he leaned back in his leather chair, making the floor creak.

The clacking stopped, followed by four knocks at the door, a pause, and one quick fifth knock at his oak-wood door.

"Come in." He drawled, leaning on his desk.

She walked in, to his surprise, still looking like the double of the person she had been assigned to play.

"What on earth...?" He mumbled.

"I apologize for having this appearance; I accidentally took a drink of the potion by habit. Pay no attention to it." The woman explained, taking a seat across from him."It should wear off before long."

"Well then, spit it out! How did it go?" He urged.

"Yes, I was able to slip the poison into his food, it was impossible to do so with his oaf of a brother, he refuses to eat the food. He'd rather eat junk." she scoffed, getting a nod from him. "Then it only took a few coins to convince a rather bulky boy to injure him." She cackled despite herself. "Those fools... They began to suspect something, though; the other one was watching me."

"Don't worry my dear; they won't understand what's happening until its too late. You did do the spell on him, correct?"

She nodded and handed him an empty picture frame. "Here's the other object." She said, her hoary hair finally turning back to jet black. It lengthened, spilling over her shoulders.

Her eyes became icy blue, and she regained her slim figure.

"The potion wore off." He observed as the final adjustments to her body were made and she was back to normal. He stuffed the small frame in his desk drawer.

"Finally, that stupid witch has terrible sight, and I don't have glasses." She spat, rubbing her eyes.

He chuckled to himself. "I assume you know what to do next?"

She gave him a nod and left.

"Those poor, naïve boys." He thought. "They still don't understand where England has led them."

Alfred's POV

Then, all eyes were on Alfred.

He laughed, trying not to sound nervous. His brother had completely dumped telling the fake story on him, and Alfred would be getting revenge. Right after he fumbled over his cover-up story like an idiot.

"Well, um, Mattie was in his room, and I was too, and we were talking, and so he like... Um... Got up! And he had a bunch of books and paper! Yeah, lots of paper. And I was like- 'Whoa, dude, that's a lot of paper, you might drop it!' And then... Uh, well then... The ghost guy whose head isn't all the way on came! And Mattie was at the top of the stairs that lead down to the common room, and he was like- 'Whoa!' when he saw the ghost guy, and then he dropped the books and he took a step and he slipped and fell down all of the steps, and then a bunch of books

fell on him!"

By the end of his story, Canada was giving him a look that said- "Oh, god America..." while the others tried to comprehend America's speed-of-light rant.

"Oh, Matthew, I didn't know you were afraid of Sir Nicholas." Hermione said finally, giving the Canadian a surprised look.

"I'm not; I was just, um, startled." Canada insisted, blushing slightly in embarrassment.

"I see." she said, looking unconvinced.

"Oh, Alfred, wasn't there something you needed to tell Matthew?" Harry remembered, giving the American an expectant look.

"Oh, I, uh, forgot what it was." he lied.

Before anyone else could say anything, Madam Pomfrey was shooing the four friends away from Matthew, armed with fresh bandages and a reddish-purple potion.

The four students left, America deciding he'd just have to tell his brother about what he had found later, when his three friends weren't at his heels.

He decided to skip dinner and waved to his friends when they turned towards the Great Hall.

America maneuvered thorough the winding corridors until he got to the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Yo." He greeted, trying half-heartedly to remember what the password was.

"Um... Pork chop. Corned Beef. Butterscotch pudding." He guessed, earning a sigh from the Fat Lady. He realized that he actually was hungry because of his subconscious food guesses, but he had made it his goal to get in, so he was going to get in no matter what.

"Incorrect. Alfred, you'll have to come up with it, I can't keep letting you in just because it's obvious it's you." The Lady sighed.

He decided to think of some magical words. "Abracadabra! Hocus Pocus! Open Sesame!" He continued, earning another shake of the head from the Fat Lady. "Aww, come on dude, let me in!" The American whined.

The Fat Lady looked insulted. "How dare you call me a 'dude'!? I will not be spoken to in such a vulgar manner!" She scolded.

"You sound like Iggy." Alfred commented, and the Fat Lady looked at him uneasily, not sure whether to take this as a compliment or an insult.

"Barking snout."

America turned to see Hermione Granger standing behind him, staring at the portrait expectantly.

The Fat Lady broke into a smile. "You should learn something from that girl." She said as she swung open and revealed the hole in the wall.

"Whoa, thanks dude! But I thought you were gonna go eat..." America said as he climbed in through the portrait hole.

"I realized you never knew the password, so I came to help you get in the common room." She said with a sigh and a smile.

"You're awesome Hermione!" He grinned as she climbed in after him.

"So Alfred, who's Iggy? I think you and-... err... Oh, who is it... Matthew! You and Matthew said something about him being your father figure..." She ended her last sentence as more of a question than a statement.

Alfred thought a moment. "He's British, and strict, and he's got weird caterpillar-looking things on his forehead."

"Eyebrows?"

"They look like caterpillars."

"Oh, okay."

Alfred continued his description of Arthur. "He hates French people; he doesn't have many friends, accept his "magical friends"." He paused, realizing that Hogwarts consisted completely of magical people. "Magical friends that don't exist. Oh, and his real name is Arthur." Alfred finished, deciding that he had said enough.

"He sounds interesting, perhaps I'll meet him one day..." Hermione said thoughtfully. "He sounds like a decent person."

Alfred nodded. "Yup, Iggy's awesome. But he travels a lot, so I don't know if you can."

"Really? Where does he go?"

"Oh, he's all over Britain." After his comment, America turned away from Hermione and had to try extremely hard not to laugh at his own joke.

"Is something wrong...?" Hermione asked, moving to try and see America's face.

"ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!" America blurted, then collapsed into a fit of (as he later claimed) very hero-like laughter, definitely not giggles, because real heroes don't giggle like teenage girls.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. "It seems you've become a bit more chipper lately, that's good.

"Yup, I mean, no! I've been fine, heroes are always fine! I was just... Sick. With... Goose pox." America said, fiddling with the collar of his cloak.

"Your skin looked just fine... And don't you mean chicken pox?" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow.

America laughed, succeeding at sounding confident although his confidence level had begun to recede. "Pshh, dude, goose pox isn't the same thing as chicken pox! With goose pox, you get all those weird red spots... Inside of you! And then you get all tired and everything sucks. It's not contagious, so I went to class anyway."

"I've never read about goose pox..." Hermione muttered, sounding depressed at the mention of something she knew nothing about. Suddenly, the sadness in her expression vanished and was replaced with suspicion. "In fact, not once in my life have I ever heard it mentioned."

"It's... Canadian." America replied, his excuse for her not knowing about the made-up disease perfectly valid in his mind.

"Okay...?" Hermione said, slowly getting more confused and suspicious.

"Alright, I gotta go to bed, like I said, goose pox is very tiring." America lied, anxious to figure out an excuse to get away from Hermione before he gave away a secret.

"Alright Alfred, feel better." Hermione said, turning on her heel and walking briskly in the direction of the Great Hall.

"...I'm going to bed." Alfred announced to nobody in particular, stumbling up the steps to his dorm room. "Wake me up when I'm not gonna be confused every day..."

"Oh Alfred." The Fat Lady muttered. "Then we'd never wake you up."

England's POV

England glared at his window when he heard tapping, thinking that it must be Clark sent to give him a letter then attempt to peck out his eye.

"Oh, hello there!" He said with surprise as he let in a well-groomed, enormous Bald Eagle with a letter.

It landed on the window sill and held out the letter, which had an American flag stamp on the side.

"I wonder..." England muttered, tearing it open to look at the letter.

Dear England,

I want to be sure that America is doing alright, so I'll be sending over one of my very trusted agents to keep an eye on him, and she will be attending Hogwarts with him. There shouldn't be any problems, I happen to know that Alfred is very fond of her; she's just much more... Responsible.

England couldn't help but snicker at that line, even though he was fully aware that Alfred could be perfectly responsible when he tried. He just tended to not have his priorities straight.

And, in addition to this, I have sent her to your house so that she can stay there until she begins attending school. I don't know how to get to Hogwarts, so you're the perfect person to send her to. Thank you for your cooperation.

~America's Boss

P.S. This is such a clever way to send messages; it's too bad I can only use it when communicating with the wizard world.

England sighed. Now he was stuck housing America's babysitter. He noticed something peeking out of the envelope, and he pulled it out. It was a picture of a woman in what looked like her late twenties to early thirties, with dark hair and a knowing smile. She had dark blue tinted sunglasses and red lipstick that made her lips shine.

"Well, I must say, the Americans can be quite good-looking when they want to be..." England thought out loud to himself, looking at the picture for an extra few seconds before setting it on his desk.

"Why, thank you!"

The surprised Brit spun around to see the girl from the picture, smiling and holding out her hand for him to shake. "Hello, my name is Cynthia White; it's a pleasure to meet you."

She gave him a warm smile as England took her hand and blushed slightly. "Ah, well, err, the same to you, I suppose you know who I am."

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, you're England, or Arthur Kirkland, right? America's told me all sorts of things about you, and so far they're all true." She smiled, taking a seat in the chair at England's desk.

England gave her a weak smile, not sure whether Cynthia's comment was an insult or not. He couldn't be sure exactly what America had said.

"In fact, I distinctly remember him saying you'd find me attractive..."

God, Alfred... Where did I go wrong?

"Oh, is that what he said?" Arthur said, the only evidence of his annoyance the fact that his eye was twitching.

"Yes, it is." She said with a pleased grin.

"He also said that you were a 'pretty cool dude'," she added, making air quotes around the last part of her sentence. "I'll just have to see if that part is true is well." The warmth of her smile stayed, so her statement didn't sound like a threat to the Brit at all. He smiled back and walked over to hold open his door.

"It's getting late, I'll show you the guest room if you'd like, or if you're hungry I could give you something to eat, I just made dinner." England offered.

"Oh, that would be grea-" She sniffed the air as she left his office and passed by the kitchen. "Actually, I'm pretty tired, but I ate just before I came!" She said quickly.

"That's too bad... I had made Toad-in-the-Hole..." England said, disappointed. "America used to love eating it!"

"Oh, yes, he told me how delicious that was! It's too bad I won't be able to have any, but I really am very tired." Cynthia yawned.

"How about I make you some for your ride on the train to Hogwarts next week?" England suggested with a smile.

"Oh, that would be... Just perfect... Absolutely perfect." She said slowly.

"Alright, that can definitely be arranged! I'll show you to your room, then." England said, opening a door down the hallway. "Tomorrow we'll go to Diagon Alley and make sure America and Canada know you're coming-"

"No, I want to surprise them! That and if I tell them America'll have a detailed prank planned out for me by the time I'm there..."

England laughed. "You do seem to know him well."

Cynthia smiled distantly. "Yes, in fact I've known him as long as I can remember..."

/AN/ Yay, new character! She's important, very important! And I do own her. The disclaimer doesn't count for her. I made her up. She's not actually a person. (That I know of) Oh, and by the way, Toad-in-the-Hole is a real British dish. Look it up. I don't think it would taste too bad in real life, but I used it because A) It doesn't matter if it's good in real life, we all know that you shouldn't eat any of Iggy's cooking, if it's Toad-in-the-Hole or even cereal and milk, and B) Because it sounds disgusting. I made up goose pox too, if you didn't catch that. At least I don't think it exists… I haven't posted in a long time, and I really am sorry. It wasn't even school's fault completely, my writers block thing started a week or two before my summer vacation ended, but I just couldn't finish the chapter. I was completely stuck, because I noticed an issue in my plot line, and it required a lot of bending and rewriting. And I'm in an advanced class for math and I hate math, so I have an extensive amount of my least favorite subject. History's going well, though! XD And again, like I said up top, thank you to everyone who favorited and or followed me and or the story. And a special thanks to reviewers, I love seeing reviews, and don't be afraid to point out mistakes that I've made! Now comment! In that box below here! Or I shall infect you with Canadian Goose Pox!