Chapter 19

A Sharp Word

England

"Go on, ya slowpoke," Scotland said.

"I'm going, I'm going!" England scowled, gripping the floo powder tight in his hands, though his grip wasn't as strong as it would've been, as he there still a bit of that alcohol left in him. Drinking with an underage body was not the best idea in the world, England decided. Ok so, what happened after Scotland came back with more alcohol is that England, of course, got drunk. Real drunk. With an underage body. Let's just say – the one who lost the round of rock, scissors and papers round and had to stay sober (with Sealand in the house, they thought at least one of them should stay sober to make sure nothing terrible happens; just in case) – had a hard time keeping the three drunk nations inside the house with all their clothes on. Especially England.

England sighed and threw the green powder into the fireplace, shouting, "Hogwarts!"

Green flames erupted in front of his eyes and he felt himself get transported into the fireplace in McGonagall's office.

"Good morning, Mr Kirkland," McGonagall casually said from her desk before her facial expression turned into one of a crinkled-up paper. "Is that alcohol I smell? Mr Kirkland, have you been - ?"

"Yes, I drunk yesterday," England truthfully said, getting out of the fireplace and dusting himself.

"Mr Kirkland!"

"Professor, you know that I am technically way over the drinking age," England said.

"But still, Mr Kirkland, your body is currently under said age and you should not be –"

McGonagall was interrupted by Scotland arriving in her fireplace as well. Scotland stumbled on England's luggage that was on the floor, and he yelped as he dropped his own luggage.

"Now will ya be a wee bit more organized?!" Scotland shouted, and England snorted.

"Now I smell more alco- how much did you two drink last night?!" McGonagall said in horror.

"Enough," Scotland laughed, and ruffled England's hair, "This little guy almost-"

"That's enough, Scotland," England growled, slapping his hand away, "Now I'll be off to my dorm. Hope I don't see you for the rest of the holidays, Scotland."

With that England left the baffled McGonagall behind and headed for the Slytherin dorm. There were only a couple of students present in the Common Room, but none from England's dorm had returned or stayed.

England plopped his luggage down and picked out some parchment and quill. He then headed out for the library and begun to search. Search for information about anything that may help him help Elleore.

That energetic Elleorean's uneven aging had to be stopped. Damn that laboratory. Damn those experiments! England almost ripped the book he was holding in frustration of the memories of those white halls. All the nations could know for sure was the fact that those… liquids that they injected the nations with was related to magic – some form of it. Potions, most probably. Bloodhound, the lead scientist, had only said that he was 'sponsored' and that the cure was 'magic.' If the cure was magic, then the cause was most definitely magic – the scientists were all magical, after all.

England doubted that what they needed would be in Hogwarts; that kind of magic that those scientists used was probably newly invented, and most probably classified if there were any documents left of it. Hogwarts was unlikely to have any information on it.

But the Magic Trio could never to so sure. So they were still digging the library. They were almost finished; only a few shelves of the Restricted Section was left.

They didn't know what to do after they finished, and found nothing.

But that was a worry for later.

England was submerged in his book when he heard a familiar voice.

"You too? I guess our free time is always this, after all."

It was Romania. His voice was cheerful as always, but there was a tint of sorrow in his voice.

"We should really find another pass-time activity," Romania said, picking out a book.

"Hmm… I don't find that necessary just yet," England said, "You're my friend, and Elleore is important to you. I will help you help her."

"What- huh-? Eheheh. Ahem," Romania said, turning as red as his eyes.

"You always act so smooth but in reality, you aren't really," England laughed, "How can you be if you turn red just like that?"

"Wha- ahem. Well at least I know my feelings," Romania coughed. And as soon as England got the inference that England was denying his feelings, the image of a certain American went across his mind, and England shook his head, making it go away.

"I don't know what you're trying to say," England said.

Romania just smiled mischievously before returning to his book. The sun had started to sink into the horizon when England and Romania decided to go eat something, and see if anyone else had arrived.

They were glad that they did indeed go to eat as they spotted Norway poking his food with his fork. The two made their way through the sparsely populated hall to where the Norwegan was sitting and sat down on each side of him.

"When did you arrive?" Romania asked while filling his plate with food.

"An hour or so ago. Had to stay at Fin's a bit more because the Danes wanted to spend more time as a whole family," Norway said, "They said that, since this is the first time every single one of us was under the same roof in… a few decades, we should spend more time together."

"And how was it?"

"…Quite pleasant," Norway said, "I doubt yours was the best, Arthur. Heard that you Kirklands also had a family party."

"Of course," England grumbled.

The rest of the conversation was just about a couple of random things, just as any usual conversation between friends. And somehow, by the time the three parted ways for their dorms, they were talking about types of soil. None of them knew how they got to that.

-0-0-0-

Eventually, the Golden Trio returned to Hogwarts as well, along with Terry, Michael, Anthony, Malcolm, Graham and other people that England put under his – dare he say - 'friends' category. Friends. Such a soft word.

But it is also a sharp word. The word can hold one down in many different ways. Sometimes the word can pressurize someone. Chain them up. "But we're friends, aren't we?" – those words can feel like tons of heavy bowling bowls being dropped on their heart to some people. In other situations, just hearing that word can make someone feel lonely. Perhaps because it reminds them about how they don't have any. Or not.

Though, for England, that word was sharp because for him… friends were… something England had to say goodbye to. When time passes, his nation friends shall fade away too, or their friendship would be shattered when war comes. His human friends. Well.

No words are needed to explain why England has to say goodbye to them.

England took his mind off of such depressing thoughts and returned his consciousness to the sight in front of him. Smiling people – his friends. Eating in joy while exchanging stories about their Christmas. He couldn't help but dip himself further into the waters of friendship as he laughed along with them.

-0-0-0-

(The nations returned to Hogwarts as soon as they can before their bosses gave then work to do)

The actual chapter is short today because I wrote the x-files crossover that someone wanted. I did enjoy writing this! I had to get help from another person, though, because its been a long time since I watched x-files and I forgot everything. Sorry if Mulder and Scully is OOC.

Also bear in mind that the story changed and its no longer going to be how I wrote ages ago that it would be like.

Oh and I decided what this story will end like. Its all set. I had a plan before too - but now I'm changing the originally planned ending. Elleore is going to be bit more significant in the ending now. I thought she was too... idk. I thought she felt too much like a filler. I mean yes she is kind of filler but y'know I don't want her to purely just be Romania's filler love interest. Hope y'all understand.

Enjoy! Maybe I'll continue this one day!

-PotterheadNo.04

-0-0-0-

Matt Johnson was concerned, to say the very least.

He hadn't seen nor heard from his friend Alfred F. Jones for ages.

When he came over to ask if Matt can analyze some weird… thing that he carried with him about four years ago in 1990, Alfred had told Matt to forget about him. He also acted strangely and just not like himself. Thus, that night when Matt became home from work, he found a bouquet of forget-me-nots with a note reading, 'Thanks for being my friend bro, you were one of the best,' which was written in Alfred's Handwriting.

Matt thought it was a joke. Some sort of Aprils Fool's joke even if it was not the first of April. Alfred was always a jokester after all. But after Matt really could not get in touch with Alfred… he got worried.

His phone number now did not exist.

His email was also terminated.

His house… well, Alfred never told Matt where he lived, now to think of it.

It was as if Alfred F. Jones did not exist at all – as if Matt imagined his whole existence. But he did not. He could still see the chat history, email history, and his wife and children also knew him. But… to think again… they never took a photo with each other. Alfred had never been the selfie person and did not really like photos of him being taken.

Matt's wife noticed how glum he was about his friend's disappearance, and she also noticed how her kids wanted to see the funny, energetic man again. So, she took time one day to back-hug her husband while he was staring at the messages he once texted to Alfred on his phone.

"Hey," she whispered to him.

"Hey…"

"Still thinking about Jones?"

"Well… yes. Yes… it's been a year, Susan. And still no news from him at all."

"…Yes… but… I have an idea."

"What idea?"

"Matt, you work for the goddamn FBI. Surely you can try to find some sort of information on him."

"I've already tried… at least up until where I can reach. I'm not that high up in the ranking, trying to do more will basically be going against the law… I tried to ask permission to access Alfred F. Jones' file or whatnot, but they refused. Said it is top secret. Why would Alfred's file be top secret? I just don't understand… I feel like something really terrible happened to him, so the government is trying to cover it up."

"Hm… that does sound fishy… right then… how about that creepy Mulder guy? Can he help? You told me he's all 'I don't like the government and I will not do what they want me to do and I will discover every dirty secret they hide!'"

Matt laughed at his wife's impression of Fox Mulder.

"Well… I guess I could ask 'the creepy Mulder guy.'"

"Ok then, tomorrow, you'll go to him and ask. Yeah?"

"Dunno if he'll help though, heard he's a tricky one to ask for help. The case needs to be reaaaaaal weird for him to get into it. All… supernatural and sci-fi. If I had that weird substance Alfred brought me… then he'd get into it but I don't."

"You never know until you try, sweetie."

"True, true. You're always right, Susan."

"I know I am. Now come down for Dinner."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

-0-0-0-

The sun rose up and Matt went to work after a light meal and some kisses.

Matt had one goal today: go to Mulder and ask for help.

But he didn't have his hopes high up. He did not know Mulder very well – actually, only Scully, who seems to stick with him a lot seemed to actually know him – and just a 'missing person' was not something that will interest the alien geek. The only thing that might interest Mulder was the fact that Alfred F. Jones' files were top-secret.

Matt waited and waited for the right timing to go visit Mulder's office his whole time at work. He only got a chance during the evening, which Matt gladly took.

Mulder's office was messier than Matt had imagined it to be, and the guy himself had his foot on his desk, reading through a newspaper and taking a few notes on some pieces of paper. It seemed as if he couldn't decide which one to do - read the newspaper, or write on the paper. Matt carefully knocked on the door and waited for a reply. But Mulder did not budge.

"Ahem," Matt said.

Mulder did not reply; he just scrunched up some paper and tried to throw it in the trash – which he failed to do. And Matt could know that this was not his first time doing said action as he saw the pile of other scrunched up bits of paper. Matt just stood there and sighed before speaking out loud for Mulder to hear, even if he had the feeling that Mulder won't reply anyway.

"Mind I if I come in, Agent Mulder?"

Matt was right. There was no reply. So Matt just decided to go in and stand in front of the desk where Mulder was scribbling down things that Matt could not make out on a piece of paper.

"Helloooooo?" Matt called.

Mulder looked up, surprising Matt; he didn't really expect a reaction.

"Whoever you are, can you please get out?" with that Mulder returned to his scribbling (he had abandoned his newspaper).

"I'm trying to give you a case here," Matt said, frowning a little at the man's attitude. But then he did seem to be in a very… stressful situation. "I heard you're very interested in… erm, should I say, dark-government-secret stuff?" Matt continued in a lower voice.

Mulder's hand stopped moving, and his head slowly rose up. Mulder looked straight into Matt's eyes.

"My friend. I've known him since my early FBI days. His name is Alfred Freedom Jones. Works for the government. Four years earlier, he came to me, asking about this… weird… green thing. It was not something from Earth – or anything that I knew of. Its properties were… new to me. I actually suggested that we to you that day – I knew you're an expert at the extraordinary things – but he refused. Seemed like he was in a hurry. He didn't even let me tell anyone about it. Then he asked about my family. We waved goodbye… and the nest thing I know, I find this note with a bunch of forget-me-nots in my mailbox," Matt placed the four-years-old small note that he kept on Mulder's desk. Mulder glanced at the note, quickly reading the message. "It looks all 'I'll never get to see you again' kind of message – a last message. I thought it was a joke of his; he is quite the jokester, but it wasn't. His email, his phone number, every contact detail of him was just gone. Only then did I realize that I did not know where he lived and that he… just disappeared. I waited a year for him to come back. When he didn't, I gave into the temptation of using my job to find information about him. I went as far as I could to find information about him, and that got me no-where; all information about Alfred F. Jones is classified. Top secret. A man came to interrogate me about why I wanted his file as well. I think- I think-"

"You think something happened to him."

"Something dangerous. Yes."

"And that the government is trying to cover what happened?"

"Yes."

"Was this man that interrogated you smoking a cigarette?"

"Yes."

Silence.

Matt was scared; if Mulder didn't accept this 'case' of some sort, then he really would have no-where to go to for help. And… Matt really did want to see his friend again. He had given up on finding him just a few days ago, but now... his determination had been relit. He felt determined to find his friend once more.

"Alright then, I'm contacting Scully!" Mulder shouted.

"Contact me for what?" a woman's voice came from the doorway. It was Dana Scully, famous for being one of the very few people who could bear working with Fox Mulder.

"Come on Scully, we're off!" Mulder said, tossing on his winter coat.

"Going where?!" Scully exclaimed in confusion, though she automatically scooted back out of the door.

"Somewhere! That man's leading," Mulder pointed at Matt, and Matt hurriedly scrambled out of the room.

"Matt Johnson," Matt introduced himself.

"Dana Scully," Scully said, shaking Matt's hand.

"Fox Mulder, but both of you already know that, it seems like," Mulder quickly said, "Now come on! Where is the place that you would most commonly find this Alfred F. Jones? Where does he work?"

Matt, surprised by Mulder's sudden enthusiasm, just said, "Uhhhhhh… McDonald's?"

"Then let's go!" Mulder shouted.

"To where?!" Scully shouted.

"McDonald's!"

With that, Mulder marched off.

"Is he always like this?" Matt asked the redheaded FBI agent.

"Yes, he is," Scully sighed, and followed Mulder. Matt was frozen in his spot for a couple of moments, trying to process what was happening to him, before he could scurry off to catch up with the two agents.

-0-0-0-

Matt had no idea what he was doing. At all. He had a nice McDonald's burger right in front of him with some coke. Mulder was munching down on his own burger and Scully was just sipping her drink.

"…What are we doing, exactly?" Matt asked.

"…Undercover investigation," Mulder said after swallowing his food. Matt slowly nodded before picking up his burger. There was silence before Mulder started to ask Matt about Alfred.

"So, what kind of a job does this guy have?"

"He worked for the government."

"Which position?"

"…He actually never told me clearly. But he was in one of the high positions, I think – amazing, I say. We met in our 20's when I was still at the bottom of the FBI, and when he was already in a high position of the government."

"Really? In his 20's, and already in such a high position?"

"Yes. He was always getting called all over the world for these world meetings. Always busy with paperwork – though I don't think he ever did all work that was given to him – and other government stuff. But for a young man in that position… Alfred was very chill, hyper, and childish."

"Do you know anyone else that knew Alfred?" Scully asked.

"Well… I once met this British dude called Arthur Kirkland who kept on arguing with Alfred. And this Canadian named… uh… I can't remember… but anyway, a Canadian that was Alfred's brother; I suppose their mother gave birth to them in different countries. Or Maybe one of them changed nationalities. I don't know. But they're definitely brothers; they were like twins. I had to really concentrate to tell them apart. And um… there was also this Japanese man that seemed like he was friends with him…"

"Interesting," Mulder said, his burger nearly down to its last piece. "Anything else we should know?"

"Erm…" Matt tried to think of other things about Alfred that he already hadn't told Mulder. He stared outside of the window. Then he spotted a man with a weird curl in his hair with glasses, whom sparked Matt's memories. "Actually… another person that Alfred knew… I once met Alfred coincidentally on the streets. He was looking for a 'lost aristocrat' or so Alfred called that Austrian man. They were supposed to be in a meeting but the Austrian had gotten lost. So he was out looking for him… that Austrian looked like that man right there," Matt pointed outside of the window at the man. "…No, wait. That is THE man!"

Matt jumped up, hurting himself as he bumped into the table in the process, and ran out of the door. He could hear Mulder and Scully get up quickly and chase him as he sped across the street, making many cars honk in anger – some swear words could be heard too.

Matt grabbed the supposed Austrian by his shoulder, taking the other man by surprise.

"You… you…" Matt said, unable to continue his words.

"Excuse me? I'm afraid I don't know who you are," the man asked in an accent, proving that he was Austrian.

"Alfred… uh – um, erm," Matt said, trying to summarize all the thoughts in his head. Do you know Alfred F. Jones? Are you Austrian? Do you know where Alfred is if you know him? Why did he disappear? Is he okay?

"Sorry sir," Scully said, "Dana Scully, FBI," she introduced herself first before she got straight into the meaty question, "We're investigating a case and this man recognizes you. Do you know Alfred F. Jones?"

The Austrian's eyes seemed to spark with realization before just said, "Sorry but no."

"Are you sure, sir?" Mulder said.

"Yes. You've mistaken me for another person," the man said. There was some tension in his voice.

"But I swear, you look exactly like -" Matt tried to say that he was sure that he was the Austrian, but got cut off by the Austrian.

"Human memories are fallible. I really don't know this… Alfred Freedom Jones."

"We never told you his middle name," Scully quickly said, picking up on the man's mistake. Austrian seemed to realize his mistake as his eyes widened. The Austrian lowered his voice.

"This is dangerous businesses you're digging into, Agents."

Matt felt his hair stand up at those words.

"I remember you, Agent Johnson. I remember how you found me last time with Jones. I know that you're his friend and that you're concerned. But don't be. He is fine. Not in any danger. So now, take my advice and don't dig any more into this investigation."

"We could take you in right now," Mulder said.

"No you can't," the man said. And the FBI agents knew that they could not. Something told them that they could not ever dare to 'take him in.'

"Good day, agents," the Austrian said before disappearing into the crowd.

And Matt knew that with this… he was no longer able to stop looking for Alfred. He may be digging more than he should, but he just knew that he could not stop now. Besides, Mulder looked too thrilled; he won't let Matt stop even if he wanted to.

"This is getting heated up," Mulder said, taking out something from his pockets.

"…Are those sunflower seeds?" Matt said, frowning.

"Yes."

(Sorry for making it a cliffhanger ehehehe)