Summary: (Harry Potter / Hetalia Axis Powers Crossover) England decides to teach at Hogwarts to keep an eye on the Boy Who Lived. But the famous Trio (Harry, Ron, Hermione) are becoming suspicious of their new professor... Can England keep his status as a country a secret? And what does Voldemort want with him?
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Hetalia
England
"S-sorry, I shouldn't have pulled-" Rose's apology was put on hold when her Professor's body blew past her.
Before he knew what he was doing, England rushed forward, his arms swinging wide in order to receive the younger country. He found himself holding Matthew in his arms, his hands curling into tight, shaking fists at the boy's back. Matthew, while being initially unprepared for the sudden and atypical hug from the thick-browed nation, relaxed and clasped his own arms around the elder man. The two embraced. There were no words to be said, nor tears to be shed. It was just physical contact and comfort in its purest and simplest form.
It didn't last long. England retreated, horrified at his own actions. Had he hurt him? Were there any wounds remaining that he could have disturbed and agitated with his foolish moment of impulsiveness? But Canada looked fine. A little gaunt still, maybe, but otherwise he didn't seem to be in pain anymore. He was even smiling, albeit weakly. Bless that Poppy... She really came through for me, this time. Even now, though, England didn't stop from worrying and fretting inwardly. He decided that from now on he would be more careful around the recently-injured northern nation. He couldn't risk anything.
Canada's hazy violet eyes left England in favour of flitting across the space uneasily, unnerved at the unfamiliar surroundings he had been unceremoniously thrust into. "Er, where am I...?"
"The Hospital Wing, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," supplied Dumbledore kindly, stepping forward.
Matthew started as he finally took full note of Dumbledore, Umbridge, Pomfrey, and McGonagall, who were all lurking in the background, unwilling to disturb the two brothers. He squared his shoulders, and his body language blared out how unaccustomed he was to the eyes on him. "So... I made it?" he said hopefully, tiredly...
Following Canada saying this, Kumajiro leapt up onto Matthew's chest, one paw on each shoulder. He nuzzled his friend's neck and face, making excited yipping noises that England would expect to come from a dog, but not a bear.
"Yes, yes, I missed you too, Kumajasper," said Canada delightedly and ruefully at the same time.
Kumajiro ceased in his delight and merriment. "Don't ever do that again," the bear sounded stern, and this contrasted greatly with the high-pitched levels of his voice.
"Don't do what?"
"Make me leave you like that." The bear squeezed its head up against Matthew's lower torso. He trembled in his place. The barely audible words, "Who are you?", drifted out from where he was situated. Matthew cracked a fleeting grin, knowing he was forgiven. One of his hands began to stroke the cub soothingly, whilst his attention turned to other places. Mainly, England's shirt.
"E-Arthur!" Canada cried, his breaths panicked. "What happened? Your shirt-!"
Britain inwardly cringed and nearly pulled a face. Of course the boy would turn the focus back on him. It was predictable of him to express distress for another in a moment such as this... England mentally shook his head. He really should have changed his shirt already... then this fuss could've been avoided.
"It's nothing," said England, easily feigning indifference. After all, the matter of his current... condition, didn't really disturb him anymore. It was painful, yes, but he didn't fear it like he'd once had. Why bother trying to hide anxiety that didn't even exist in the first place? "It's not mine," England lied, referring to the nigh-dried blood patches on his dress-shirt. "It's from you," he finished, hoping that would placate the country across from him. It did.
Pomfrey made a tiny noise, and the set lines of her mouth, eyebrows, and face broadcasted her disapproval, and yet she didn't dispute the lie. Even she must've known that nothing would be accomplished by upsetting Matthew further. He had enough to worry about.
Matthew sighed, the worry in him being replaced by relaxation and peace in sync with the release of his heavy outward breath. "Oh..."
From where she had been neutrally observing, Pomfrey abruptly bustled forward, reminding Arthur of a mother hen come to tend to her chicks. The sight was almost funny. Matthew only shied away the tiniest of centimetres when she put her hand to his head, checking him over for the millionth time since he'd arrived here. The troubled nurse tutted, straightening. "You need another dose of that tonic, I think. I'm all out, but there's more in Serverus' stores, I think... I'd better go get some. It'll help your body regain the blood you lost..." Without truly finishing her sentence, Poppy left, continuing to talk and verbalise her mental-notes to herself.
With Pomfrey's absence, Umbridge sprang into action, metaphorically pouncing onto the shaken Canadian patient without any leniency or dawdling. "So, if you wouldn't mind clearing up some confusion for me, I'd like to know exactly how you wound up bleeding on Hogwart's front lawn," said Umbridge sweetly, to England's great indignation.
Matthew flinched, staring at the pink-wearing woman blankly. "I, Uh... Who are you?" he non-too-smoothly changed the subject uncomprehendingly.
Umbridge grinned that dangerous grin of hers, the one that let students know when they were about to receive a weeks detention. She shook her head at the ground, as if berating herself. "Of course you wouldn't know who I am, you're American." she must've deduced this inaccurate conclusion from his vague accent. "Still, I would've expected you to know. I am Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic in England." The toxic conceitedness oozing off the woman filled the air.
"...Actually," peeped up Matthew. "I'm Canadian..." He smiled hopefully.
Dolores' eyebrows rose. "Ah. Well perhaps you can explain to me later why you have an English brother. I'd very much like to have that explored in great detail-"
"Dolores!" interjected and reprimanded Minerva. England could've kissed her right then and there. He was very relieved that someone else was daring to stand up for Matthew. "That is a personal matter, and hardly one you need to know or knead your nose into. Can't your questions be put on hold until a latter date, when he's recovered more?"
The Senior Undersecretary opened her mouth and said bluntly, "No, my curiosity needs to be sated." Her eyes flashed as she turned on Matthew, who was very tense and fidgety on the bed. "Now, if you could answer my original question..." It was hardly an appeal.
"You wouldn't believe him if he told you," snarled England, his eyes burning with defiance and disgust. He was done with pretending to be polite with her. She had taken this too far...
"Try me, then," sniffed Umbridge, unmoved by England's very apparent anger.
Blinded by hostility, England blurted out the words. "He was held captive by Voldemort."
Hushed gasps and exclamations rang out throughout the room. Rose's eyes widened, and McGonagall just ogled at Kirkland unbelievingly. Matthew emitted a small baffled noise, his eyes flickering with astonishment that England had chosen to reveal this so openly. Of course, Dumbledore was the only one who wasn't surprised. England winced, berating himself. I shouldn't have said that... I should not have said that... At least Pomfrey had left, and there were no other patients in the Wing anymore to overhear the proclamation.
"...You're right. I don't, and can't, believe that." with that, Umbridge walked out as well, her nose in the air. "I should've known you were in league with Dumbledore, hell bent on convincing the ministry of this myth. Well, it won't work. I can promise you that."
And that's what I'm afraid of... thought England mournfully, his disdain fading into disappointment. Was there any chance of the Ministry wising up? With the state it was in now, it was ripe for the picking for the Dark Lord, should he choose to make his move. The Minister and Umbridge's continual denial was proof of that...
With both Pomfrey and Umbridge now gone, Minerva went to Dumbledore. "You knew about this all along?" She said to him, referring to the divulgence of Matthew's capture.
"Of course." Dumbledore was quiet, then. "...I'll tell you more later," he finally continued. He was so noiseless that even England hardly heard him utter that last part.
There was a lapse of silence, where mere breathing was the dominant action and sound. Minerva seemed to shake off her confoundment. "Oh dear, we've neglected to introduce ourselves. I am Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress here at Hogwarts," said Minerva, her stern façade breaking down into a welcoming smile.
"And I am Headmaster Albus Dumbledore," spoke up Dumbledore, his eyes producing that typical, warm glow.
Minerva continued, "The girl responsible for your awakening is Rose Zeller, a first year student here at Hogwarts." Rose ducked her head nervously, but Matthew gave her an encouraging and ungrudging smile, showing her that he held no ill feelings towards her. "You've already met Dolores... The woman that left earlier is Poppy Pomfrey, our school matron. She has been responsible for tending to you."
Matthew nodded in acknowledgement. "I'm Matthew Williams," he requited automatically. Minerva raised an eyebrow at the differing last name from "Kirkland", but unlike Umbridge, didn't pry at the anomaly.
Dumbledore, who had been barely speaking and composed only a second before, let out a gust of air in the form of a gasp. At the same time, Matthew started. What is it now? thought England. The spooked old man and the country of Canada were equally alarmed as they drilled holes into the other's face. They were almost transfixed. England could not even begin to understand the reason for the uncanny exchange they were sharing.
McGonagall beat England at asking aloud at what could possible be the matter. Dumbledore had regained some of his self-calm, but a dose of trepidation still managed to creep its way into his voice. "H-his, his mind..."
Matthew flinched once again. England's head filled with horror as it constructed possibilities of what Dumbledore could be implying, each more worse than the last. He'd been very vague, but the Headmaster was usually so composed. His mind...
Guessing something horrible, England reached out his thoughts and his senses. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, but not quite, as he was still very much still self-aware. He directed a thin, connecting trail of thought to the beacon that was Matthew's consciousness. Using legilimency, he lightly brushed against the Canadian's mind. Technically, he didn't have permission to do this, but this was an emergency... He had to check...
Immediately upon contact, England knew that something was terribly wrong. His breathing quickened. Matthew's mind was, in simple terms, a torn and nervous wreck. It shirked and sidled away from England, convulsing, despite him being a familiar and unobtrusive figure. England was aware that Canada had organised his mind into a forest-like structure, which was very clever. But the outer edges of this "forest" had been mostly levelled. It felt like something or someone had demolished a path through it, leaving a trail of wreckage in its path.
England withdrew his feathery mental-touch from the war-field that was Matthew William's mind. It came to England as to why this had happened. The Dark Lord was renowned for his malicious "mind-reading" skills... Oh, if he ever got his hands on him... Sure, the boy's damaged mind would recover in time and be sound again, and very quickly too since he was a nation, but England could still feel the aftereffects of the pain that he was in, even now when he'd broken their connection.
Britain was so self-absorbed in his fantasies of avengement that he was startled to feel Matthew's shuddering mind gently grazing against his own. England allowed the exchange. 'Not once... did he get anything out of me...' "said" Matthew to him. England could feel the tiredness, but also the overwhelming pride in that statement. Despite himself, England glowed with pride as well. He'd taught some of his colonies the basics of occlumency, but he'd never expected for Matthew to be so talented at it. This traumatic experience, if anything, had at least revealed the boy's excellence in the area, and had likely improved it as well. He had held off the Dark Lord for days... England didn't think that even he could've done much better.
The moment of pride didn't last much longer, and England's vexation returned in full force, this time directed at Dumbledore. He'd been outraged at Dumbledore for some time now, ever since the elderly wizard had performed minor legilimency on Matthew, but until now this had been overshadowed by the discovery of the state of Matthew's mind. Now he could concentrate more fully on the Headmaster's wrongdoing.
"I hardly think it was necessary to do that, Albus... I'm afraid that I just don't see what invading my brother's mind was supposed to accomplish," objected England in an irked voice, his throat racked with tremors of aggravation. He fought hard to control his voice to be civil.
In his head, England was also panicking. He'd had no idea that Dumbledore was a legilimens. What if England had unknowingly been victim to the Headmaster delving into his mind, or even just having the surface of his thoughts and emotions scraped upon? It would be a disaster if Dumbledore had gleamed anything from him... But... No. England was one-hundred percent sure that he would have been alerted to even the most slightest and innocent of intrusions. Even Canada, who had had far less practice in the area, had instantly known when Dumbledore had been using legilimency. It just wasn't a possibility.
McGonagall and Rose were still thoroughly confused and downright baffled, but said and did nothing to interrupt. They were mesmerised by the unseen exchanges and the confrontations unfolding before them. Dumbledore looked much better than he did before, but England's tone of voice still made him unsettled.
"I assure you that I meant no harm, Arthur," elucidated Dumbledore in that infuriatingly calm and soothing voice. "I wasn't planning on invading Matthew's privacy, I was merely-"
"Get. Out." England turned and lowered his face away from them. He didn't want to look at anyone right now. They needed to leave. Now. Their feelings be damned, he needed to be alone right now. Matthew needed to be alone right now. It wasn't just Dumbledore's slip-up that had caused this reaction (although that had been the final straw). The questions and glances he had been getting ever since he'd started coughing and vomiting blood, up until right now, had really been getting on his nerves. "Good afternoon, Professors. Now, if you would kindly take your leaves..."
Because of the position of his head, England couldn't see their expressions. However, he could still hear two pairs of shoes exit the Hospital Wing, and that was all that mattered. Two out of three pairs of feet meant that someone had stayed behind, though... and England had a pretty good idea of who it was.
Rose Zeller peered at him and Matthew, her view alternating between him and the exit. England could have sworn he saw tiny tears swimming in her eyes, though from what he wasn't sure. He was about to send her away as well, but then his mood and heart softened sympathetically. He hesitated...
"It's okay, Arthur," said Matthew in his ever-quiet voice and perpetually whole-some way of talking. "I don't mind if she stays, as long as you don't..."
Their eyes met, and Canada nodded. England's large eyebrows lowered thoughtfully.
"I-it's okay, I'll go," she said hastily, her legs beginning to take her in the direction of the doors.
"No," England stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. "No, it's fine..." hiss lips twitched into a pathetically forced smile. "I still owe you a conversation from lunch, though we'll have to do without tea..."
The Hufflepuff's eyes shone, unbelieving and overwhelmed.
/
/
The three of them talked and socialised a whole hour away. Pomfrey showed up again not too long after McGonagall and Dumbledore had left, but she didn't talk too much because her attentions were so focused on Matthew. England easily tolerated her because of this.
Matthew had questioned Rose on her school life. What house she was in, who she was friends with, how her classes were going, who her favourite teachers were, and so on.
"I really like Professor Kirkland. As for my house, well, I'm in Hufflepuff," she'd told him quaveringly, as if a little ashamed to be telling him this. The girl was still so timid, even to him.
Matthew's indigo eyes appraised her. "...I'll tell you a secret," he put both hands on Kumajiro's back and leaned forward. "I came to Hogwarts for a short period of time, and I was extremely close to being put into Hufflepuff. The sorting hat had greatly considered me for that house, but in the end he placed me in Gryffindor. I guess some good came out of that, since I was with my brother Alfred, and I could teach the other rowdy and self-righteous Gryffindors that bravery doesn't just involve and imply picking fights... Still, a part of me regrets not being a Hufflepuff. I would've fit in more with them, I think... I'd watch them, in class and in the hallways... They were always so collected and generous. The majority of them were some of the nicest people I'd ever met. I would've been proud to be a part of their number. Hufflepuff is a fine house, eh?"
Rose's face lit up. "Yea... I guess you're right."
England spoke a great deal with the girl as well. She told him about her muggle family, how she had an older brother who was in university, and one younger sister that her parents suspected of being a witch as well. They wouldn't know for sure for a few years until she got a letter from Hogwarts, though. She mentioned her cat, (Brandee's mother), and the peculiar and funny things she did. England disclosed to her a lot less about his personal life than she'd had, not only because he didn't enjoy talking about it, but also because being a nation required much more secrecy.
After a time, he sent her off to bed. As she left, Matthew and Arthur just gazed at each other.
Matthew gathered up Kumajiro in his arms and burrowed his head into the polar bear's pelt, just as he had done many times before as a child. "...Thanks for taking care of Kumarama," said Matthew quietly, his eyes downcast and his voice muffled by Kumajiro's fur.
England blinked, a little taken aback. "...It was my pleasure. And... thank you, for looking out for Peter," he returned sincerely, remembering that the reason Matthew had been taken in the first place was because he'd come to Sealand's defence. As much as England was constantly annoyed by him, it hurt to think of the young, naïve boy being placed in similar circumstances.
He stayed with Matthew for a few minutes longer. If Madam Pomfrey hadn't insisted that he depart to his quarters to get some much needed rest, he likely would've slept by Canada's bedside the entire night. Nevertheless, England didn't give Poppy any trouble, and Matthew assured him that he would be fine.
Even if Matthew was fine with it, England certainly wasn't. Not after what had happened.
When he made it to his office, England was met with the sight of the dried blood still on his floor from earlier, as well as the unused tea that he had prepared for Rose, but never tasted... He put his finger into the dully-coloured liquid.
It'd gone cold.
Harry
The name "Matthew" brought up more of Harry's memories to mind... He thought back to when that strange "Francis" character had come for a visit, and the unusual things he'd said... Now, they made more sense.
"...-I need to speak to you about somezing important..." Harry's face scrunched up in thought, contemplating what this "important" thing could be...
Kirkland's voice dropped, more than half as loud as it had been only seconds before. "Even if I'd be willing to listen, we can't speak here."
"But it's about mon petit Matthieu-!"
Kirkland abruptly put a hand over Francis' mouth, effectively silencing him. His eyes pierced Francis', and under his breath he said. "I know."
Pulling Kirkland's hand away, Francis said, "'Ow?" incredulously. "To my knowledge, no one's told you yet..." Told him what? thought Harry curiously.
As if in answer, Kirkland jerked his head towards the polar bear cub, who was sitting a few feet away. Francis started, evidently having not noticed the cub yet. He spluttered, frequently mouthing "how", before his mouth split into a smile. "Well, zis ees good news! If ee escaped zen maybe its possible..."
Kirkland shook his head slowly, his eyes closing for an extended period of time. "No. You see, the bear didn't... escape. He was released."
"Quoi?"
"If you insist on talking to me about this, then I suggest we adjourn to my office, as its a personal matter." Kirkland's eyes scoured the assembled spectators. "Don't you lot have something better to do, like classes? Go on, get, scram, there's nothing for you to see here."
...
Just what had they meant? What had brought this "Matthew", who was supposedly a brother of Kirkland, to Hogwarts? And bleeding severely, no less. From what the French-man had said, it sounded like... he'd been in trouble?
Harry decided to discuss this with Ron and Hermione. He could do with some second opinions.
/
"You remember that report that Severus gave last meeting, don't you?"
"Of course..."
"...Just what do you remember, specifically? What details stood out...?"
"I... well, he mentioned something about You-know-who-"
"Voldemort."
"Yes yes, him. He said that he believed in mythological immortal people, and was pursuing them. Didn't Snape said that one of them was being held in captivity by Voldemort? Or, at least, that's what he thought. God knows if it's true."
"You're on the right track, but think deeper, Minerva. Didn't Arthur ask for a description of this certain man? And what was Serverus' reply...?"
"..."
"Well?"
"A light-haired young man with striking violet eyes."
"...Can you guess who I recently told Severus to assist in releasing from Voldemort's clutches?"
"...Yes, I think I can."
Author's Note:
A Note on the Ending of the Last Chapter: I don't entirely support that Canada's curl is an erogenous zone, but in this fic, it's certainly hyper-sensitive! Feel absolutely free to think what you want, though! ;D
THIS CHAP WAS KINDA LAAAAZEEEEE ;W;
Thank SOOO much for all your reviews you guys akjhjdkhgdkjfhgd! I appreciate them soooo much! Please review some more! They help me write, and contribute greatly to my updating speed :'D
anozer note... Rose is not appearing for a long time after this XDD