October 31, 1994

The dreaded day has finally arrived.

The blonde man sighed heavily.

The castle was alive with excitement as were the students.

Opening weary green eyes, he straightened his back and stretched his tired muscles.

Excited glees from students passed by him in groups as he rolled his neck and shoulders. Crack. Wow he really needed a massage.

England sighed and hunched over, heavily relying on his elbows leaning on his knees for support.

Being a personified nation really gets one thinking. England would replay his memories over and over again, the good, the bad, and the despair. Especially the despair. The decisions he's made, the regrets.

Letting his people die is one of his greatest despairs.

Letting them die because of his own stupid ideas, those were the idea- no - regrets that kept him up at night.

He hadn't eaten anything last night, and after the quick meeting with the Nordics and France, reviewing the plan again and putting up protective charms in each of their rooms, England had gone straight to bed, but didn't fall asleep.

The whole night he stayed up, restlessly tossing and turning, sweat creating a thin layer upon his body. Each time he closed his eyes, he'd immediately wake up in terror. After one too many jolted awakes, England decided all together that sleep wasn't necessary, well it was necessary but for him it wouldn't be gracing him that night.

"Arthur."

He looked up to the voice, seeing violet eyes with sagging dark bags beneath watching him. Norway hadn't slept either.

"Seeing as you and I hadn't slept a wink last night, I'm going to assume neither did Berwald or Francis."

Norway nodded and checked his watch.

"Have you been here all day Arthur?"

The nation sighed and heaved, sluggishly rising and arching his back to crack. Crack.

England blinked and surveyed his surroundings, he had spent all day in the far most hall that had an extraordinary view of the castle, and luckily it hadn't changed since his days at the school. And luckily again, nobody had discovered this quiet sanctuary, until Norway came. Though, he already knew the school just as well, even with the changes.

"Yeah, but I wished I brought a chair or something, my arse is so fucking numb I can't walk right."

The briefest of smiles graced the Norwegian's lips. "The Muggle Inquisitor shouldn't be using such language."

Walking, the British man chuckled hoarsely, "It's second nature to me, I can't let that go so easily."

Descending the stairs, England eyed the steady hand Norway had on the sleek marble. With the way he was tripping over his own feet, he needed the support.

The feast was to begin in less than a minute, Norway and England just barely arriving before it began.

His lips lifted into a smile looking at the newly decorated hall. Hundreds of carved pumpkins hung stringlessly in the air with candles glowing inside them. Floating candles sprinkled in between the pumpkins adding more to illumination and to the overall eerie glow perfect for Halloween. Those flying bats also helped give it more character with their beady little eyes watching from their heavenly perches.

It was one of England's favorite days of the year.

The two hurriedly paced to the front table taking their designated seats beside their Headmasters. Sweden gave him a short nod and England returned it, noticing his pale face. Looking to France, England noticed his hair was unruly and he didn't properly shave to get that handsome, almost-shaved appearance he usually has. It wasn't becoming of him.

This evening, the four nations bore soulless smiles.

England slightly jumped at the sudden appearance of his food. Like that wasn't pathetic.

England clenched his hand before eating; not paying any mind to the excitement that filled the Great Hall. He just couldn't.

After a few small bites, he finished eating, deciding that he was done, and leaned back in his chair.

"Arthur," Dumbledore leaned over, "Please eat."

England slowly blinked but smiled weakly, "Please don't worry about me Albus, but do tell me," England jerked his head towards the big scarred man on the flipside of the table, "who is that man?"

Dumbledore followed his line of sight, "That is Alastor Moody, if you remember his face from the Prophet during the First War."

England looked the man over from his ruddy jacket and layers of clothes to his scarred face and the unusual eye strapped to his head, whirring and turning. From the jerky movements and beady normal eye that stared only straight ahead, it wasn't to hard to tell he was paranoid.

"Oh right, the retired Aurora. Though I must say..." England's mouth stopped in thought.

"Arthur?"

"No it's nothing Albus."

The feast finished without a hitch and the golden plates were magically clean. It was then that the hall ceased all noises. It seemed like everyone had even stopped breathing.

Absently, England's eyes flicked to Harry. The boy seemed excited.

The Goblet had been placed before the staff table before the feast and now standing beside it was Dumbledore with his wand drawn. With a grand wave, the candles outside the pumpkins blew out and now the atmosphere heightened.

Here we go.

The goblet's flame continued to dance in blue until red sparked from the heart and consumed the flames and a tongue of fire spat out a charred parchment.

With much ease and agility, Dumbledore grabbed the paper and unfolded the paper.

"Our first champion is, Viktor Krum!"

Cheers erupted, mostly from Durmstrang. Viktor slouched and made his way to the front, shaking hands with Dumbledore before being pointed to the door leading to the adjacent room.

As quickly as it started, the sound ceased.

Another spout of fire erupted in red and another parchment of paper floated up then down to the already open palm of the Hogwart's Head.

"The next champion is, Fleur Delacour!"

Excited cheers came from Beauxbatons, the half-Veela gliding to the front then making her way to the next chamber.

And last but not least, the final flash of red glowed and the trail of flame vanished, leaving the only paper left to be grabbed by the Dumbledore.

"And the final champion for the Triwizard Tournament is… Cedric Diggory!"

A roar boomed, bouncing off the walls, Hufflepuff house stood up jumping and screaming in excitement. The announced boy stood up and had a bounce to his step. After the handshake and his disappearance to the next room, Dumbledore silenced the Great Hall.

"We now have our champions. As a re-"

Red sparks flicked and flurried around the goblet, drawing all eyes to the distraction.

England glanced to France who had the look of complete shock. France looked back at England. He swung his head to look at the Nordic nations who were watching in confusion. Norway's face looked to his, looking just as surprised as them. He knew they were thinking the same thing.

What the hell is going?

In their many Triwizard experiences this has never happened before and England in complete honesty, was terrified.

England stood up and leaned over the table watching as the Goblet spat out another charred paper.

Green eyes squinted, trying to, if they could, see through the paper to see what was on the paper.

Dumbledore had grabbed the paper so fast his hand was a blur and he quickly unfolded it.

Blue eyes scanned the paper then looked up.

"Harry Potter."

Author's Note:

So I'm back at school and if I get distracted enough I'll probably be working more on this than studies lol.

Bute yes number 21! I have reading this weekend to do but I'm hoping to have the next one up soon.

Poor harry and england aha lmfao what now nerds

And sorry about the mess up! i saved it as Chapter 21 instead of the usual Professor England 21 so it got mixed up but now it's fixed! Thanks for reading!