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
Harry
"Here, I found this..." Harry tossed three books in quick succession onto a table, which each landed in a perfect pile or tower. A small explosion of dust erupted into the air as a result of this.
"Be gentle!" hissed Hermione, scurrying forward as if to make sure the books weren't injured. Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes quickly. "I'm serious, Harry. Be more careful. Madam Pince will have our heads..."
At this, Harry paled a little. Oh, he hadn't thought of that. Pince could be a real monster when her precious books were threatened in any way, shape, or form. He'd just been in such a rush... Perhaps it was best if he put a little restraint on his excitement, for now.
Hermione quickly opened the book at the top of the pile. "No no, this title's too odd... 'Magical Mysteries'? Anything could be in here." Bringing the book up to eye level, she started to flip through the table of contents, skimming the words with a scrutinising eye.
"Actually, I think I've read this one before. Nothing in there, except for rumours about the guy who supposedly invented the unforgivable curses (1), and something about pixies from hell. Absolutely nothing about personified countries."
Oh, bugger it all. Harry deflated a bit, hopes downtrodden. He was pretty much searching blind in this library, with no idea where to scour and what books to read. "What about the other two?"
"...Hm, this second one might be worth a look," said Hermione after a second. "...Unidentified Persons of the 1600s... Maybe we can find him in here. This third one doesn't seem very promising... But I'll keep looking. Don't worry." Giving Harry a comforting pat on the shoulder, Hermione whisked off to another section, seeking through the shelves with a professional skill that came from years of practically living in the library. She honed in on the right and most relevant books like a champion.
"I can't believe I'm doing this instead of preparing for my OWLs..." Harry heard her grumble under her breath, 'tsk'ing to herself as she picked through the presented 'spines' of each book's bindings, peaking at the covers.
"Oh Hermione, we both know you're going to ace all the tests-"
"Ha! My vanishing charm is sloppy at best, and-"
Ron strode around the corner of a bookcase, coming into view to interject on the start of her self-denigrating speech. "What bullshite," he said, and Harry full-heartedly agreed with him. Modesty was a virtue, but Hermione took the task of belittling herself to extremes, considering how smart she was and how high her grades soared. It was almost insulting to hear her speak-ill of herself.
"Look who decided to show up."
In response to her remark, containing a slight connotation of scathing esteem, Ron just shrugged. "Eh, I had nothing better to do... Quidditch season's over. I'm sick of studying. My brain will burst anytime now, it's inevitable."
"Well don't just stand there. Help Harry look through books..." she directed stiffly, before returning to what she'd been doing prior to his entrance.
After some time, Hermione pulled them all aside and opened a specific book. Harry didn't get a chance to catch a glimpse of the title before Hermione began leafing through the pages. She stopped on a page right in the middle, index finger trailing down the paragraphs and then coming to rest on the start of a chapter heading.
"Look at this... There might be something in here." Clearing her throat, she began to read aloud: "'The theory of personified nations has existed for some time, and was at one point in history even considered common fact, as evidenced by old and damaged writings referencing such persons. This has frequently been dismissed as old superstitions of the current time periods, but the conspiracy has gained renewed consideration after the discovery of documents that appear to be deliberately damaged. These actions seemed to suggest that something needed to be covered up, otherwise, what would have to be hidden that provoked people to destroy historical artifacts? Over fifty-seven persons fitting matching descriptions scattered throughout history have been identified as possibly being the same individuals, appearing to be unaged. Speculation still runs rampant today over what countries these personages identify with, or if they are even nations at all as the theory suggests."
She took a pause to catch her breath, before picking up on the next paragraph, wherein there was a list of people presumed to be "countries".
"Multiple possibilities of personified nations have existed in the area now known as the United Kingdom. The most frequently recorded has been a man of younger countenance, blond-haired, and believed to have green-eyes-" She stopped, and the three of them all exhaled at once. So... there it was then. What now? Was it true?
All of the sudden, the short silence came to an end, courtesy of Ron. "Hey look, there's Loony over there," said Ron, pointing to a secluded table where Luna Lovegood sat, quietly keeping to herself. Her father was the editor of the Quibbler, plus she'd said on the train that she believed in this 'country' business. She might know something, if they only went over and asked.
"'Reckon she knows anything? Should we go over and-"
"Loony Lovegood?" Hermione protested, a slight strain of a scoff in her voice. "She'll started rambling about nonsense. 'Nargles', wrackspurts, moonfrogs, heliopaths, or god forbid, crumple-horned snorkhacks-"
"What about them?" In unison, the trio of Gryffindors suddenly flinched and whipped around wildly. Without their knowing, Luna had drifted to their table in a ghost-like trance. She stared at them, smiling dreamily.
Understandably, Hermione was a tad unnerved by her sudden appearance, like a bird with its feathers ruffled. She guiltily made an attempt to ramble or splutter out some semblance of an excuse. "Eh- wh- that-t is..."
"You're very smart Hermione. But I don't think you'd do well in Ravenclaw. A good witch has to see all sides of the spectrum," Luna hummed, giving Hermione's shoulder a fond but stern pat. As always, Harry was disconcerted by her strange and blunt mannerisms, which were dictated by no self-conscience, and directed with a lack of awareness to her self-conspicuousness. Lovegood did not know how to fit in socially, that much was obvious; but that was what made her unique.
Not skipping a beat, Luna continued. "Now, what did you three need?"
Harry was the first to overcome his shock and vocalise an answer. "Personified countries... What do you know about them?"
"That Kirkland is one?"
"..." Shocked into speechlessness, Harry and his friends could only stare at her with blank, but bulging eyes. How...? Luna was discomfortingly perceptive at times. It was almost eerie how she picked up on things.
"You didn't know? I knew all along~" Her voice could be described as a tad smug, and Hermione of course did not take this well.
"How could you have possibly known? Before us?"
"Just his eyes..."
Hermione, ever an advocate for hard, factual evidence, let out a disbelieving, "Hmph..."
"No, really, didn't you notice? They're special. Same with those other two that passed through. The loud one, Alfred, and... oh, what's his name..."
The boys were raptly entranced by what she said. Though curious, as well as uncanny, her words were interesting nonetheless. Considerably less intrigued, Hermione sighed helplessly. "Bah, you're hopeless... But you're our friend, and I'll forgive you for your lack of citing to actual proof, not to mention your weird way of explaining things."
"...Friend?"
"Yes, Luna, you're our friend. Didn't you know?" Harry nodded along with what Hermione had said, agreeing with her. Dumbledore's Army had definitely given him a certain fondness for the pale-haired, fourth-year girl.
"I've never had any real friends before... Besides Ginny, I guess."
"Well, you're ours now, and we need you to tell us everything you might know about these country-people-things. Rumours, urban legends, anything."
She was very quiet for a second, chewing over Hermione's words. When she spoke, Luna smiled dazzlingly, her gray eyes alight and freer than Harry had ever seen them before. "Anything for my friends."
England
The examiners were coming today, and their imminent arrival was causing quite the commotion. The school was unhinged by the anxiety of students, knowing that the fates of their marks, and very futures, would soon be decided upon by the very men and women coming to the school. Umbridge was all abustle, going about her business and self-consumed in her task of trying to straighten out the school enough to impress the examiners.
Being the new Headmistress, her very reputation hinged on how well the school was presented. Unfortunately for her, after the Weasley twins' ditching of education, the students had all been... rather rowdy as of late. Not just your average rowdy. It was insane, but England couldn't help but be a bit, well, proud of the wee buggers. Dolores was slowly loosing her head and sense. She passed judgement and dispensed detentions at the drop of a hat, and yet the students continued to resist. Nifflers were smuggled into her office, where they transformed the room into a wreckage from their obsessive rummaging, and that was the least of her problems.
At last, the wise and weathered examiners arrived in their great numbers. Dolores was there to greet them, and it was pathetic for England to watch her helplessly flail, and how hard she hassled in her efforts to impress them. Stress showed in her face, because although the Ministry was powerful, the examiners in the district ruled over the realm of British magical education, and she knew it. The Wizarding Examinations Authority was a powerful group in the Magical Education Division of the Ministry. But although they were technically a part of the Ministry, they somehow stood apart from it as well. In the end, the old elders had the final say if they chose to make their voices heard. If they found her unfit, it was conceivable that they could... remove her from duty.
Not having much else to do at the moment, Arthur decided to be there and witness the examiners enter Hogwart's hallowed halls. Besides, maybe he would get to see an old friend. She'd been an examiner for almost as long as the profession had existed, or at least, it felt that way to him.
The woman, smallest of them all, and stooped down low, was Griselda Marchbanks. Governor, leader, and head-examiner of the Wizarding Examinations Authority. He knew few ordinary people as old as her, or as wise. Griselda was gray haired, nearly white from seniority, and the strands were thin and sparse between. The skin was wrinkled, pale, and pasty. Her less-than-idealistic complexion aside, the old elder examiner's eyes were still as keen and as sharp as a fox's, un-dulled by the flow of time. Her appearance seemed to suggest a croaking or quailing voice, but instead it was a loud boom. Inwardly, Arthur suspected that this was because she was slowly going deaf in both ears, right more than left judging by the way she constantly tilted and angled her head to hone in on sounds and people's voices.
"Griselda," he greeted graciously, walking into the Great Hall past a bad-tempered Umbridge, who winced in time with each syllable Griselda projected.
"Ah, yes, perfectly fine journey!" she bellowed to Dolores, having not heard nor seen him yet as she surveyed the emptied hall. "Dumbledore flew the coop ey? Ha! Your Ministry won't be finding HIM anytime soon! Not if good ol' Dumbles doesn't want to be found! I should know! Examined him personally! Talented young wizard, still one of the best-!"
Britain repeated himself, not meaning to interrupt, but simply to gain her attention. "Griselda-"
"-Did things with a wand I'd never seen before in my life! And that's saying something, I've been around longer than most heheh!," she paused to cackle and cough, and Arthur couldn't help but frown forlornly. Her spirit was as young as ever. Unfortunately... all humans must eventually age and die, come their time. She was living proof of this, and it was a stinging but necessary reminder.
"I dare say that I doubt anyone will be tracking him down, now- Arthur!" The old crone crowed, seeing him at last and flinging out her boney arms in a wide gesture of welcome.
"When on earth did you get here?! Why, haven't aged a day eeehh?" Winking knowingly, she toddled over and engulfed him in a fond hug. With a smile, Arthur returned the hug. He wasn't the "hugey-type", to say the least, and preferred distance and social isolation sometimes, but for her he'd make an exception.
"Hail old friend!" he joked. "Looking fine as ever I see."
Stepping and snickering, she said in all her booming confidence, "I know! M'still quite spry on m'feet! Bet that surprises you?"
"Not at all."
The two of them spent the next fifteen minutes engaged in lively conversation, catching up and relieving old times. They'd met in the late 1800s, and she knew of his identity as England. He'd been unable to keep the information from her, crafty woman that she was. Griselda Marchbanks, like many others he'd come across since being 'born' into this world, was just a true friend he'd come to cherish. Someone to talk too, confide in, and speak without fear of unfair criticism. Being a witch, he'd known she'd live longer than most, but he still made it a goal to treasure any time with her, or any human, for as long as they lived on this good, earthen realm.
The look on Dolores' face as she gaped on, goggling open-mouthedly whilst the other examiners milled about aimlessly and chatted amongst their own number, was well worth it. England had succeeded where she had failed: in entertaining the chief, and arguably the most important examiner that had yet to retire.
Harry
Just before examinations, the sensation of eternally experiencing being on edge was absolutely awful, and it was enough to make Harry's life a near hell of nervousness. It was like the eye of the hurricane; the peace and calm before the storm. Ron was nearly driven mad because of it. The actual OWLs weren't half as bad as Harry thought they were going to be. All that fuss and stress had been more trouble than it was worth.
Unsurprisingly, Hermione did spectacular in every exam she was signed up for. Bloody brilliant, she was. Ron and Harry on the other hand barely squeezed by with passable effort in some subjects, but blew through others like it was a piece of cake. Harry unexpectedly found that the written portions of the exams were more difficult than the practical demonstrations he and every other student were required to perform to the examiners. First was Charms, then Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts (which Harry had no doubt he'd excelled at. That OWL had been a breeze.), History of Magic (remarkably, Harry actually had a good feeling about that test. He'd certainly learned lots since Kirkland had come to Hogwarts), Potions (it was a lot easier to brew concoctions without Snape breathing down his neck, offering criticisms left and right...), Care for Magical Creatures, and tomorrow was Astronomy.
He still frequently thought about Kirkland. The Assistant Professor (and possibly country?) was almost always on his mind. And yet, despite talking to Luna and hearing what she had to say (which was hardly helpful. Mostly rumours and outrageous speculations), as well as doing his own research with Hermione in the library, nothing was certain. Kirkland being a country would certainly make sense, but there was no way to confirm it.
That was why, in the middle of the night, when he should've been sleeping or studying for his final OWL, Harry stayed up to take a look at the Marauder's Map. It may accomplish nothing, but he had to try anyway. Who knew, something might happen?
Beneath his covers, he unfolded his favourite map, and muttered the familiar words, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." At once the Marauder's Map was unlocked, and came to life with a flourish of ink fanning across the fluttering paper, drawing out hallways, rooms, and people's names. Harry opened his mouth a second time to enunciate "lumos", allowing a compact but concentrated ball of bright-white light to bloom on the tip of his wand. He directed the wand over the crinkled and thoroughly inked paper, casting light over the corridors of the school that he was well-acquainted with, now re-materialised in map-form.
Names were swamped in motionless clusters in each house dormitory, and the only sign of a student not being asleep in their bed was the name 'Lee Jordon' furtively darting about outside Umbridge's office. Probably to pull another prank in honour of Fred and George... Lee sure did make an admirable effort to follow in his friends' inspirational footsteps. Harry spared a moment to smile at the name before moving his gaze downward.
"Arthur Kirkland". Asleep in his office, it seemed. Harry had not checked the map as much this year, or at least, not with the same compulsive habit he'd acquired after receiving the map from the twins in his third year. The early novelty of the map had worn off since then. Each time he'd checked though, the name had appeared just as it was right now: 'Arthur Kirkland'. Yet, in spite of already knowing what he'd see, Harry couldn't help but want to check. Just once more... just to be sure.
He leaned forward until his nose was practically brushing against the parchment, and his eyes, (which offered only blurry vision at best without his glasses), narrowed in focus. The fourteen letters still stood there, unyielding and unchanging as before. Harry's heart dropped in disappointment, and he was about to avert his gaze, when it happened.
So fast that he almost missed it, the words flashed. One second it was "Arthur Kirkland", and the next second it was something else. Harry almost thought that it must have been a trick of the eye, brought about from him staring too long and too closely at the words. With twice as much fervour, he locked his eye-line onto the Professor's name. Come on... Just once more.
It took only moment for it to happen again, and this time Harry caught it clearly. With less abruptness than before, the name blurred and morphed, letters refining themselves into a new arrangement.
'The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.' For a second time the words changed themselves, 'England', then it was back to 'Arthur Kirkland' again. Harry held his breath, waiting to see if it'd happen again and prove he hadn't just imagined it in his sleep-deprived state, but the words solidly stayed the way they were.
Author's Note:
(1) An inside nod to a HP/APH RP.
ArtofthePlate:
Yay, such a fast update! But it's also such a short one :'(
I noticed you haven't addressed Harry's Quibbler interview that he had after his disastrous evening with Cho. Did England read it or know about it at all? I suppose it's not necessary for this story; I'm just curious.
Will any more countries be brought in? Personally, I think Russia showing up during the ministry battle would be hilarious.
Nooot really XD. I've noticed an abundance of people saying that in regard to Ch. 35. The truth is y'all have just become a bit spoiled X3. 3000 words is the standard length for my chapters. I have a few longer ones here and there, but chapter 35 is not short compared to most of the other chaps. The one previous was definitely a whopper, so I can see why anyone would think that though. (Also, some advice to anyone reading: 3000-4000 is a good reference length to have for each chapter when writing a fanfiction. Maybe more if you can manage it. I always aim to have at least that when I post, not including the ending A.N. ^^)
-*points to chapter 33*- Yes I did ^-^ Just a quick summary though~ And no, Arthur did not read it. The Quibbler, despite its sudden rise in popularity, wouldn't be at the top of his list to read I'd imagine.
This is England's story. I think I've mentioned it many a time before in other A.N.s, but in terms of addressing other countries, you guys are going to be sorely disappointed :(. The thing that ruins most crossovers for me is when the cannon is suddenly swamped by all these excess characters. I do not intend to make the same mistake. In terms of Russia, we shall see~ Bu the ministry battle is not intended to be hilarious. Come that scene, you'll find it will be quite serious.
Thanks for reviewing! I'm grateful for the constructive criticism, and for the chance to be able to address some things! -huggles- Hopefully I didn't come across as rude. I really did appreciate it! Most people don't go into depth on things of concern like you did.
God guys, this is another chap where I got REAALLLY behind in replying to reviews ;-;. I just want to let you know that I appreciate each and every one of them! Next chap I'll get back into the swing of things replying individually to each one with an account attached.
You guys are great. I seriously can't thank you enough. And now that we are getting close(ish) to the end, (don't worry we still have a good # of chapters to go!) I just want to let you all know how awesome you are -huggles-. I'll probably be making an appreciation video using fanarts and screenshots of your reviews. You all deserve a brownie and cheesecake, seriously. Here, have some maple syrup -showersyouinsyrup-