A few months passed before Arthur began to get a familiar, yet odd sensation he hadn't felt for a few decades now. It was a feeling of dread that came from seemingly out of nowhere, like one he had felt before what would be dubbed the Great Fire of London in 1666 or before the Germans began their blitzkrieg in 1940. It always occurred to a country personification before a huge disaster began.
Some ignored it, deciding to let whatever was going to occur happen and just preparing for the worst. Others would decide to try to stop it before it happened if they had enough information or foresight, and sometimes they would be successful or one of their citizens would help to overt the disaster themselves. But one thing England knew for sure was that he hated this feeling. Hundreds of years walking this planet and experiencing the equivalent of a thousand lives over, and this sensation of dread and helplessness was one of the few things a nation never got used to; anyone who claimed they were was certainly lying or insane.
As soon as the sensation made itself known, Arthur became more and more vigilant. He asked his three brothers, and all of them said they had a similar feeling to varying degrees. He asked his neighbors and allies, but none of them felt anything out of the ordinary. Through this, Arthur was able to deduce that it was an internal problem making itself known that would drastically affect himself and his brothers unless something was done.
He'd keep an ear and eye out for any building tensions at world meetings he attended, but aside from the usual between America and Russia, as well as others who might've been involved in or affected by their Cold War that had occurred a few years earlier, he couldn't tell if anything was amiss with his fellow nations. He'd keep tabs on the goings on in his government and with his royal family, but nothing pointed to a world-altering event about to take place. In the muggle world anyway.
Arthur turned his attention then to his wizarding community. True, he'd distanced himself from his government's magical counterpart in recent years, the previous wizarding war having taken years for him to fully recover from, but that didn't mean he could fully tune his senses away from it; the muggle world and the wizarding world were connected and could affect each other drastically. So, he found copies of the Daily Prophet that had come out in the recent months including the newest edition and spent an evening going over them. A headline caught his eye, Gringotts had an attempted break in. Aside from Hogwarts, Gringotts was one of the safest places in the country, a break in was unusual, and the number of the vault stood out. Vault 713. Nicholas Flamel's vault where he kept only one precious item: The Philosopher's Stone.
But the stone was safe, the vault had been emptied earlier on the same day the break in had occurred, and Arthur had a feeling he knew where it was.
With newfound confidence that whatever disaster that could happen would be diverted as others were surely one step ahead of the cause, he retired to bed.
But it didn't last long.
The next morning, he woke up with the feeling of dread renewed, and it was worse than the days before. No matter how many times he tried to remind himself, reassure himself that the stone was safe, the feeling persisted.
No, he couldn't lose himself. He did what little paperwork he had to do at home and then made his way to the Ministry of Magic through the floo network.
He briskly made his way to the Minister's office and found himself stopped by the secretary at the door.
"Sir, I'm afraid you need an appointment, the Minister is a very important man." She said, sounding annoyed as if she had said this a hundred times before and knew she would a hundred times more.
"Please tell him Arthur Kirkland is here to see him."
She checked the sheet of paper on her desk. "I don't see-"
"Please." He implored, "Cornelius will know this cannot wait."
She eyed him suspiciously before rising from her seat and poking her head into the Minister's office. Arthur could vaguely hear her telling the Minister who was here to see him, adding on "He doesn't have an appointment" to the end. But it didn't matter, as he urged her to let the personification in anyway. She held the door open and Arthur walked in, the door closing behind him.
Cornelius Fudge had been the Minister of Magic for only a couple of years now, so Arthur only had so many interactions with him. But he could tell he took his job seriously, even if he did have some form of wonder toward Arthur himself. This was common among the few humans who knew the secret of what he really was.
"Ah, Britain, how are you doing? I must say, I wasn't expecting you at this hour."
"I wasn't expecting to come here either, Minister, yet here we are." Arthur nodded, taking a seat across from Fudge. "I'm afraid I haven't been doing too well, Minister."
At once, Fudge was alert, "Is there anything we can do?"
"Perhaps. My brothers and I have been feeling out of sorts lately, as if something is wrong or going to go wrong, but we can't place what it is."
"Well, I can assure you, Britain, that nothing is wrong as far as we at the Ministry are concerned. Sure, there is the occasional problem of muggles witnessing magic and a creature getting loose where it shouldn't be, but we handle those situations with swift precision."
"Yes, I understand, but-"
"Excuse me, sir?" Arthur had been cut off mid-sentence by the secretary, poking her head into the room to deliver a message. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Albus Dumbledore is here to see you. He says you've sent an urgent letter to him?" she said, sounding just as confused as the look in Fudge's eye.
"Y-yes, send him in."
A moment later, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts stepped into the room. "You said you wanted to see me, Cornelius?"
"Well, it's always a pleasure to see you, Albus, but I'm afraid that I never sent a summons to you."
When both men turned to Arthur, he shook his head, "I never did either."
"Britain here was just telling me he felt something was amiss."
"Yes, I feel like it might have to do with what was moved from vault 713 to Hogwarts."
"How did you-?" Fudge raised an eyebrow.
"It stands to reason that if someone felt the contents of the vault wasn't safe at Gringotts then it would be moved to an even securer location. The closest is Hogwarts."
"Excellent deduction, Arthur." Albus nodded.
"Now, back to the matter of your letter…" Fudge began, "As I've said before, no one in this room sent for you, and if Britain didn't either, then who did?"
"Who knows, Minister. But for now, I think I shall return to Hogwarts as it is late." Dumbledore nodded politely.
"I think I shall be taking my leave too." Arthur stood up and said his goodbyes, walking out with Dumbledore.
"Something is bothering you, isn't it." Dumbledore stated more than asked.
"Well, you did hear what I said in Fudge's office. I think it has to do with the Philosopher's Stone."
"We've moved it to Hogwarts for safe keeping per Nicholas's request. Our staff have set up multiple safeguards, including myself. You'd have to be a very clever and courageous person to get through all of them and live."
"Or very powerful."
"What are you insinuating, Arthur?" Dumbledore asked, though the twinkle in his eye told England that he already knew.
"That Voldemort or one of his followers are plotting to steal the stone in an attempt to bring him back to life." Arthur whispered as they passed more people. A few who were close by gave him horrified looks as he said the name everyone feared, but he ignored them.
"Yes, we were thinking the same thing, that's why it was moved. However, I fear that this mix up in communication might mean the worst."
"Then let me go with you back to the school, at least to check to make sure the stone and it's defenses are secure. If not for anything but my own sanity."
"You're always welcome at Hogwarts, Arthur, you and your brothers who help to represent our nation, and considering everything that's transpired tonight, I think I shall check on the stone as well."
The two then apparated to Hogsmeade and began to make their way up toward the castle. A loud skree sounded above them, and an owl landed on a nearby tree branch. It held out it's leg to Dumbledore.
Arthur sighed. "Don't tell me this is another false alarm from the Ministry."
"No, I recognize this owl from the castle's owlery." Dumbledore reached out to untie the parchment from the owl's leg and unrolled it. The owl flew off as the old wizard's eyes scanned the writing.
"Who's it from?"
"A student named Hermione Granger. It appears she and her friends have been doing some independent research of their own."
"And she's writing to you at two in the morning why?" Arthur asked, only now realizing how impatient he was feeling. The sense of dread he'd been feeling had only been rising in the last few minutes, it was affecting him more and more.
Dumbledore rolled the parchment back up, a look of urgency covered his normally calm and collected disposition. "Come, we'll have to apparate the rest of the way."
"But apparition into Hogwarts is impossible."
"Not for the Headmaster." He held out his arm, and Arthur put his hand on top of it. With a sharp CRACK, Arthur found himself in the castle on what appeared to be an enlarged chess board. A few of the statue-like pieces were still standing, but the rest were in shambles as if they had been smashed.
"Minerva's touch. This is the last defense; the stone is in the next room." Dumbledore explained.
They went through the door and came to a room with the Mirror of Erised in the middle. Nearby were two people, a boy Arthur recognized as Harry Potter and a man with two faces on his head. Harry was gripping onto the man as if his life depended on it despite the screams of agony coming from the man.
"TOM!" Dumbledore bellowed. The face on the back of the man's head looked toward Dumbledore and England and his eyes seemed to widen in anger at the sight of Dumbledore before he went out of the body and past them, out of the room. Dumbledore looked to England as if to say to stay with them before he gave chase.
The man gave a feeble "No, Master…" as he slumped over and fell dead on the boy.
Arthur quickly went to them and pushed the man off of Harry who had passed out himself, but his grip remained on one thing: The Philosopher's Stone.
Arthur checked the eleven-year-old over and sighed in relief that he was still alive. The poor boy was probably exhausted and had overexerted himself. Dumbledore returned and took the stone out of Harry's limp, dirt-covered hand, pocketing it in his robes.
"Voldemort?" Arthur asked, not looking at the wizard.
"Gone. I've chased him out of the castle and put up wards that'll expel him from the grounds, or at least whatever is left of him." He said. "Now, come. We must get young Potter to the hospital wing." Arthur picked Harry up and the two carried him out, stepping over the corps of the man as they went."
"And that man?"
"Quirinus Quirrell. I will deal with the body and file a report once we drop Potter off. He was a professor here. He used to be the teacher for Muggle Studies but he recently took up Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"You knew he'd be after the stone and was connected with Voldemort and you still let him teach here?" The personification raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
"Well, there was no definite proof that he and Voldemort were working together, I couldn't just fire him on grounds of suspicion. But I did ask one of my teachers who I trust completely to keep an eye on him and to thwart any type of actions he might take against the staff or students."
"Well…" Arthur sighed, "It's something."
It was true, Dumbledore would've probably fallen under scrutiny for firing Quirrell under nothing but suspicions. If the man had been a clean, law abiding citizen before this mess, it would be difficult to defend that decision without clear evidence. Despite the fact Arthur was annoyed with the seemingly lack of action the headmaster had taken, he couldn't blame him for this.
Neither could have said before with complete certainty that some form of Voldemort still roamed the Earth, but now they could, and it left the blond-haired man questioning where and when he'd try his luck of being restored next.
A/N: Thank you everyone for your patience. I'm still struggling to juggle everything going on in my life with writing this story. I got sick a few times which really made me behind in writing this (nothing completely bad, just some nasty head colds and sinus infections which are common for me this time of year, but when I'm sick the last thing I really want to do is stare at documents of text). I promise, there won't be such a large gap of time between this and the next chapter which is already in the works.
England isn't a professor yet, but he'll start to consider the idea in the next chapter as he sees things getting drastically more and more dangerous at Hogwarts.
As always, comments are welcomed, and thank you again for reading.