The Hallowed Halls of Hogwarts

by msperfectsheep

With a unbelieving American, a nearly silent Canadian, a rowdy Australian, and a cheerful Brit, England finds his arms fuller than ever as the Professor of History of Magic at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But to protect the hidden side of his world, he would endure anything to ensure its survival, even if it meant keeping a close eye on the Boy Who Lived for months.

7. VII

Dearest Vee,

Is my most darling daughter doing well on such a fabulous day? Alice assures me that your trip to Hogwarts went well, but you know me, I like to double check things. Mostly, I just wish to hear from you in any way possible! There's nothing fun going on back home, and with you, everything's grey and lifeless. Helpless, that's how I feel without you. Everything is no longer fun. Mornings are quiet. Umbrellas are opened with no cheerful laugh or chiding that I'll get bad luck. Reading is a quiet and dull task with no one to make sudden black out poetry from a block of text. Days drone on and on and on. Even tea with Arthur would be more exciting. Really, its a shame you couldn't have waited a little bit longer to leave. Every time I walk past your bedroom, I want to believe you're still there. Return to me safe and sound, alright?

I love you, Cupcake.

Ollie

-0-

There really was nothing like an adventure. Say what you want, but Australia firmly believed that exploring the world around you, the nature the Earth created, was the best pastime besides perhaps than a good swim. Of course, there was rugby, and bar hopping, and interacting with his people, but that was different. That was a public event, one where, even if unintentionally, you had to present yourself in some sort of way.

Being in the bush didn't need that.

It was just you, nature, and whatever weather that the day decided to throw at you. Back home, he was used to the flora and the fauna, but the U.K. was a different kind of beast. Flip-flopped seasons, dreary cold and grey weather always looming over the populous like the threat of death, and nature whose intentions weren't always made clear, if at all.

Still, that didn't mean Australia preferred being inside when he was in the country. New territories, new adventures. And no one was too old for adventures.

Not even Mattie.

It was with a soft, accented reply that Matthew had agreed to Australia's offer to venture into the forest, and he was determined not to waste a second of it.

Matthew was always...puzzling to Australia. As a colony, he was just the responsible, older colony from the North that rarely visited. As a nation, he was a rather unnoticeable figurehead. And as a friend, he was a meek, shy man who was either dragged into one of the America's antics by force, or left to clean up its aftermath. Australia didn't really know what Matthew liked other than maple syrup and his bear because he never mentioned it.

That needed to change. This was the perfect opportunity, where only one of the Americas was here to give him grief, and he was in such a state where he couldn't hide behind work and duties as a nation as an excuse.

It was the chance to get the bonding Australia never had with him.

"Slow down! You're runneeng too fahst!" Matthew panted, trying desperately to get his pale, thin legs to run as fast as Australia's.

They were tearing down the halls, going wherever Australia's instincts said the exit was. Paintings, tall windows, and tables of weird castle-y décor whizzed past in colorful blurs, but Australia didn't pay them any attention. The green grass outside was screaming his name and he wasn't going to keep it waiting.

"I'm not the issue here mate, you are! You call those calves?" He laughed, leaping over the stone bannister of a staircase and nailing his drops onto the various landings below. A energized laugh forced itself out from within his chest as he eventually reached the ground floor.

It only grew in volume as he looked up to see Matthew running down the stairs carrying a bear nearly as big as he was. Australia had left Steve to his own devices because, let's face it, bringing a koala into an unknown forest could lead to an unplanned game of hide and seek. But, it was quickly becoming apparent Matthew wasn't going to let his polar bear leave his side.

"Hurry up, or else by the time we leave it'll already be Autumn!"

"I'm trying! Cahlm down." Matthew huffed. Australia may have been a little harsh, considering that he was only a flight of stairs away, but he just couldn't quell the growing antsy feeling he had in regards to going.

Maybe it came with being physically a kid.

Yeah, that was it.

Matthew eventually reached Australia, and while he was breathing a bit heavier than usual as he caught his breath, Matthew didn't look tired, just annoyed. Good, because the Aussie was just getting started.

"Race you to the forest?" He smirked, already preparing to leave even if Matthew said no.

But, as a pleasant surprise, Matthew just replied with, "Only when I say 'go'."

-0-

Somehow, by some unknown miracle, Canada won.

He had never, not in a million years, expected to win in a foot race against Jett, but by sheer luck, today he did. This new—well, was it really new—body was still a bit clumsy-feeling to Canada, with its thin, short limbs and decreased stamina, yet also armed an unknown amount of energy constantly buzzing through its muscles.

Currently, the body was aching in the side from something he'd heard modern children refer to as "stitches", which were not real stitches in any way. It was just a sensation that came when you didn't breathe enough while running, and it was not one he'd missed as he passed his pre-pubescent form years back.

Canada leaned against the rough bark of a tree, inhaling deeply with measured breaths to relieve said stitches. Jett looked like he was doing something similar, which would make sense. It had been a pretty decent run for bodies so new.

"Whaht's my prize fahr winning?" He asked, feeling a smile tug at his lips. He doubted that Jett would give anything as a reward, but it was still a decent attempt to initiate conversation.

Jett smirked, green eyes sparkling with mischief. "You get to pick where we explore today?"

Canada pretended to consider this, already knowing his answer. He made a big show of it, with several soft mutterings and a bit of pacing, mostly to get back at Jett for claiming that Canada had been wasting his time earlier.

"Ahlright. We're going...zat way." He pointed due east, almost perpendicular to the lines of trees they were at right now. There was no logic behind his pick, but that was alright. Exploring at this age rarely ever followed logic.

Jett gave no argument, and with that, they were off.

So far, nothing really special stood out about this forest other than the fact it hid a castle and was in Scotland. The flora and fauna were lush and green, the forest smelled like a forest, and sunlight dappled the ground in little spots as it managed to pass through the canopy of leaves above.

Nothing really "forbidden" about it, in Canada's opinion. Just a nice trek through the woods.

Behind him, Jett seemed to be having a blast. He touched every new plant that came across their path, grabbed sticks too tall for him and proclaimed them to be his "walking sticks" when there was no need to even have one, and brushed his hands across the trees they passed. It was a chaotic sort of energy, yes, but it was fitting for his relative.

"Do you sink zat thiss'll just be a year-lahng thing?"

The question came out of the blue, so much so that it took a moment for Canada to register that he'd been the one to ask it. He hadn't thought about this much, but clearly his subconscious had.

"Honestly, I'm not sure." Jett replied, throwing his latest walking stick off into the distance after finding something wrong with it. "On one hand, Alice is the one who said one year, and she's rarely underexaggerates things. There's also the fact I can't let Jane just take care of the country for longer that that. Its unfair to her, and we both know from the World Wars how being left alone at home affected her. But, on the other hand, this is nothing to sneeze at. This kid we're protecting, Harry, will probably have a target on the back of his head as long as Voldemort is alive. Not to mention every other possible victim that could happen in-between."

Canada nodded, processing Jett's words. Everything said was a good point. But unlike Jett, he didn't have only one counterpart supporting majority of the nation. James would probably be perfectly fine without him. Madeline and Marietta could back him if necessary. He could afford to stay longer.

"In the end, all I know is that I won't know until we get closer to the end. Hopefully Art or Alice have some idea on how to get rid of the bloody bastard, rather than stay on defense for an entire year."

He found himself echoing the sentiment, but not for long. Something green moved in the corner of his vision, and while he would have expected a deer or something usually, this forest had been said to be dangerous.

His narrowed his eyes and turned his head in the general direction of the disturbance, causing Jett to do the same. For a moment, everything was still.

Then it stood.

A tall, imposing figure, towering over their small forms with shadows cascading from its silhouette. Beneath the impressive figure was a smaller, yet not shorter one, draped in a blanket of moss and covered in so much greenery it was impossible to tell where was plant and where was human.

Everything in Canada's body screamed for him to run, but yet...his mind seemed to believe that this...this person wouldn't harm him. Not yet, at least.

He cast a glance at Jett, who was normally fearless when encountering new and strange things, especially when they were alive. Yet, the nation didn't actively move towards the Moss Person either. He just closed the distance between himself and Canada.

"Do you know who that is?" Jett whispered, keeping his eyes on the Moss Person.

No, he didn't. Nor did he know where Kumanero was. "I dahn't suppose you do?"

"Nope. Should we book it, or wait to see what it wants?"

Logically, he supposed that running was, even though it was instinctually correct, not proper when he didn't know where Kumakati was. Not to mention it would be very rude and leave a poor impression if it turned out that the Moss Person was friendly.

But, there was always the chance of dying, and reviving was not only incredibly painful, but worse when he wasn't in Canada. And explaining why he'd died would also be annoying.

"What do you want to do?" He mirrored Jett's question, passing the responsibility of choice as well.

"I—"

Jett didn't get very far in his sentence before being nearly completely enveloped in greenery. The plants on the ground and hanging off the trees grew at a comically fast rate, wrapping around their limbs and sliding across their skin.

Canada had to admit that he was a little bit freaked out, but it was less from a fear of being harmed and more a fear of the unknown. Having a gun pointed at your head was something he could understand the consequence is. But with the magic world, he was as untrained in identifying threats as a newborn.

Well, guess it was time to start learning.

The Moss Person moved much quicker towards them now that they were bound, and the closer it got, they easier it was to tell that, at least physically, it looking like the Moss Person was a Moss Man. Dark, flowing hair almost as black as ebony, eyes the color of ferns, and skin mottled with rotting leaves and moss. It regarded the two of them like they were wild animals that it hadn't quite decided the danger level of.

Then, in a voice rough and quiet as rustling leaves, it said in an unknown tongue (some form of Scots-Gaelic if he had to guess), "Land children."

Panic rose up in Canada's chest in an instant at the quick and blunt identification, but it evaporated just as quickly. This was the magical world, and by the looks of it, this man was very well attuned to nature. Canada supposed that it would be possible for this man to identify one of his kind, as their very existence was linked to the Earth itself.

Meanwhile, while Canada was calming himself with rationalizations, Jett was taking a different approach to reacting.

"That's ri-Woah, wait, how did you guess that? Did you use magic to tell, because in that case Art may have a problem if someone just needs magic to know what we are. Or did these plants tell you? Are the plants magical?"

The Moss Man's face remained impassive at Jett's childish run-ons, but it must have felt something because the plants entrapping Canada loosened enough to where, if he wanted to try escaping, he could. But, assuming that gaining answers to Jett's questions would be far more beneficial than just reacting to basic survival instincts, Canada stayed still.

That looked like it was the right choice, for only a few moments later, the Moss Man's face softened. Its face seemed more youthful than Canada originally suspected, now looking like the face of a teen rather than a young adult, but the slight mist of the forest still had Canada feeling uncertain with his judgement.

"Are you lost, children?" It inquired, voice strangely rough in sounds but gentle in tone. It now spoke in English, mirroring what Jett had questioned it in, accent and all.

Matthew said "No," a split second before Jett responded with his own, "Nope! We're just exploring."

The plants dropped completely, returning to their original states as if they'd never moved on their own in their lives. Mist faded from the area, and the sunlight passing through from above seemed to intensify. The Moss...Man? Would it be proper to even call it a Man, with a face that looked young? The Moss Being's gaze only became more and more gentle and kind, and Canada was glad for not trying to run. Even if its methods were a little unorthodox, Canada suspected that it was just trying to keep them(or itself) safe.

"This forest is very dangerous, even for the People of the Land." The Moss Being warned, "Never go in alone, and never go unarmed. Many creatures crave your power."

"Dangerous in what ways? What creatures? Are you one of them? Who even are you?" Jett questioned, wheels in his mind clearly turning. Canada's stomach sunk with the feeling that this wasn't going to be the last time they were warned about the forest, not by a long shot.

The Moss Being ignored his first two questions, either because they were lengthy answers or it would be dangerous to its well being to speak of such a thing. However, at least Canada got an answer for what he should call it. "I will never harm a child, human or not. I am Gille Dubh, a faerie of this forest."

Matthew's mind instantly translated the name for its meaning, as all nations' did. "The Dark-Haired Boy." Well, that was a bit on the nose for Matthew's taste, but to each their own. Besides, faeries probably had their own naming systems.

Jett's eyes widened in what Matthew would identify as something close to wonder. "You're a fairy, a real life magical fairy? Why are you so tall?"

Canada was appalled by Jett's bluntness, but Gille didn't seem to mind. His laugh was like his voice, rough and almost scattered, but it felt as right to the ear as hearing wind pass through a tree's leaves. "We fae are as diverse as the forest. No human is the same either."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense," Jett agreed easily. "So, Gille, since you said this forest is dangerous and being alone is a bad idea, would you care if we just walked around with you for a little bit? You can lead us back when it starts to get dark, and we'll be safe."

And they could learn more about the magical world, from a faerie no less.

The fae considered Jett's proposition, but it didn't take long for it to nod in approval. "If you wish. It has been a while since I have met even one of your kind."

And that's how, somehow, Canada found himself learning from a forest faerie on the grounds of the Forbidden Forest. At least it was less exhausting than chasing after Jett's antics would have been.

-0-

"And why do you spend...seven full semesters covering the Goblin Revolts?" England tried his best to quell the growing headache forming from creating a syllabus, but his efforts were rendered practically useless.

Professor Binns, a ghost who had been teaching at Hogwarts since the late 1960s, was possibly one of the most boring ghosts England had ever interacted with. With a low, droning voice and a tendency to repeat the word, "Um", the Nation actively had to try to stay focused when holding a conversation.

"Because, um, the Goblin, um, Revolts are crucial to understanding the, um, racial politics within the, um, Wizarding World."

With a sigh, England wrote "Racial Politics of Wizarding World" on his notepad, detailed with everything that he deemed important enough to be covered when teaching. Of course, to satisfy the ghost, he'd have to include what it deemed to be important as well, and currently that was only a few names of historical figures and racial politics, specifically those involving Goblins.

Binns hummed with satisfaction as he looked over the list. "This is quite an, um, impressive roster, you have. Um, do you think you will be, um, able to cover it all?"

England blinked, confused if they were even looking at the same paper. There were only six things written on the notepad, three of which were things Binns told him to add. "...Impressive? How much content do you think this adds up to?"

He studied the paper intensely, and after a minute or two, said "Seven years."

England fought the urge to sigh heavily, nodding politely instead. He supposed there was no point in furthering this discussion, which honestly was a bit of a relief. More freedom to add subjects as he saw fit, and the freedom to go at his own pace.

Before, he would've been slightly overwhelmed at the prospect of determining what to teach and what to leave out, but now he was just glad to not listen about Goblins for the umpteenth time.

"Thank you, Professor Binns. You've been very...insightful. I'll be sure to incorporate what I've learned from our discussion into my syllabus."

There. That was adequately worded enough, yet technically didn't lie about what exactly he was taking away from their conversation. Alice would have been proud.

Binns looked satisfied as well. "Um, well, if you need any more, um, of my, um, help, you know where to, um, find me."

England didn't actually, but he didn't see this particular fact as anything worth mentioning. Instead, he simply nodded and watched as the old man's ghost passed through the stone floor.

Now that he was alone, he could properly get to work. Dipping his quill into the ink pot(Oh, how he missed this feeling), he started drafting a basic timeline of the most important events he could recall off the top of his head.

Magic History started long before the founding of Hogwarts, but for the purpose of the exam, everything that came before would only count for 5, maybe 10 percent of the final exam. So he could do a basic run down of the most important magical discoveries of that era, maybe one or two historical figures. He'd have to decide based on the questions from past exams focused on this time period.

Next was the founding of Hogwarts, and their first years until the eventual passing of the founding members. Most of the children would know the basics after their first year, but he would be allowed to go in depth behind the effects of the Founders' decision, the importance of learning institutions, and the speculated reasoning and motivation behind their actions.

Following that would be the Middle Ages era, nicknamed "The Dark Ages" by Petrarch due to his hatred of his own time period for its lack of "quality literature". However, modern day, "Dark Ages" didn't even refer to Petrarch's time period but the one before, so England would be avoiding using that particular term for a lack of confusion. Here, he would start introducing more of the Muggle World politics and history, as with the growth of the European magic community also came the growth of European Muggle society.

The Late Middle Ages would lead into the beginning of the Age of Exploration and Renaissance, where now England would be fully blending Muggle and Magic histories to show a full picture of how they affected one another. This is also where he'd have to start being careful about phrasing, as Amelia and Matthew would most likely start to have memories of what he was talking about. Of course, being as impartial as possible was what he'd strive to have no matter what, but especially from this point onwards. He couldn't risk angering one of them on the chance they'd quit and leave the deal.

The Protestant Reformation, Elizabethan Era, and Jacobian Era would all go into one section as well, where he'd have a strong enough base formed in Muggle history to go into why exactly those events were so important as to have an entire era named after them.

Afterwards would be the Enlightenment, and England was all too eager to have his students read some of the most provocative and thoughtful pieces of that time. Maybe he'd even hold a few in-class discussions of what those documents meant, and why they were so important at that time. And of course, the beginning of the unraveling of European Colonial Empires.

He pulled away his quill, not wanting to blot the paper. The damn revolutions. He knew how important they were historically, and that he'd need to cover them, but it still stung. Telling an entire school of children exactly how he descended from power in detail, covering exactly what decisions he'd foolishly made that lead to his collapse.

Right, back to syllabus drafting. He needed to get over himself now, or else he'd never be able to teach everything from the 1770s onwards.

Following the Enlightenment was the Modern Era and Industrial Revolution. He'd need to cover Napoleon, that egotistical Corsican-French bastard. He'd also need to go over the Victorian Era, the leading up to the First World War, and why the magical community rejected the modern amenities of the Muggle World.

Then would be how exactly America was able to screw the world over with his Stock Market crash through the Great Depression, the rise of Nazism and Gellert Grindelwald, and the Second World War, where everything went to hell in a handbasket.

Then they could finish with America and Russia's pissing match over nuclear arms, the rise of You-Know-Who, and how Harry Potter unintentionally became a symbol of hope across the English Wizarding community. He hoped the boy wouldn't mind, but it was important to study.

England looked over his timeline, pleased with himself. Excluding the Pre-Founding period, which would be roughly two to three weeks of content by England's estimation, he had the basic outline of what needed to be covered over the year. As the classes increased by age, he'd go more in-depth with certain topics or discussions, but he couldn't skip anything other than apparently Goblin Rebellions due to Binns not leaving anything else as a base.

For not having any experience with syllabus drafting or teaching, England felt he'd done a fairly good job so far. And in the weeks leading up to the eventual start of the semester, he would complete his outline and gather all the materials for his class.

Speaking of, he needed to write a letter to Alice for supplies. Of course, this would only be for what he currently deemed necessary, but it would be foolish not to gather things if they were available.

Grabbing a new sheet of parchment, England began his letter.

Dear Alice and Oliver,

Alice, I hope this letter finds you both in good health. I am writing to you currently to ask for the purchasing and deliverance of the following supplies. If anything listed cannot be found or acquired, please let me know at the soonest possible date so I can find a solution.

I currently require:

- Three ink pots, two in black and one in red

- Three maps, one of England, one of Europe, and one of the World

- A copy of the following books: World History: An Exploration by Leon K. Willis, More than a Monarchy by Francesca Rios, Magic and What Makes It by Toddle the Scholarly, Grindelwald and the Alliance: A Rise to Power by Marianna Powell, An In-Depth Exploration of Europe Eighth Edition by Krebs Publishing, and my diaries.

- A box of my favorite tea

I trust in your ability to deliver. As for you, Oliver, please do try to behave.

With Love,

Arthur

He signed his name with a flourish, folded the parchment, and set it aside to be sealed later. If he was feeling particular, he'd use a wax seal, but for the sake of convenience would most likely just use a paper envelope.

The letter didn't need any of the standard frivolities, as both Alice and Oliver were pragmatic when it came to demands. And who was he to complain? Less time, less ink, and less parchment wasted. Besides, he could save all of the fancy wording and extravagance for his students in order to earn respect.

Then he'd scare the shit out of them when he exposed how the killing curse was one of the most merciful ways one could die, and how the Muggle World was far more than "simple" and "harmless".

Ending with that pleasant thought, England stood and gathered his papers and supplies. At breakfast, he'd been asked by Dumbledore to visit his office for a meeting regarding something of confidentiality. England suspected it was just paperwork to cover the legal aspect of his position, but he wouldn't truly know until he met with the man himself.

He walked through Hogwart's halls, his footsteps echoing off the walls in that satisfying way that only long, tall corridors could replicate. Bright sunlight streamed in from the tall windows facing the surrounding forests, and the paintings on the wall moved around lazily, basking in the sun like fat cats.

"Morning, Sir Gawain, Miss Kiare." He nodded at two of the paintings who he'd befriended when he last attended.

Gawain bowed in his usual knightly manner. "Good Morning to you, Sir England."

Kiare waved cheerfully. "My, how you've grown! You look so handsome."

He smirked at the compliment, feeling pleased. "Well of course I do, I'm me. But Gawain, Kiare, please call me Arthur from now on. My students will not be told of my true identity, and so I expect everyone here to respect that."

"Well, I'd be honored to follow such a request from a gentleman such as yourself! I will spread this information to all who would possibly make this mistake, and personally insure no incidents occur." Gawain stood straight, painted eyes dancing with renewed vigor from being given a task.

England nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate it sincerely."

The two of them nodded before disappeared between the painting frames, obviously now on a quest to spread his message. It was something England had figured he should cover at some point or another for security reasons, but he hadn't planned on exactly how or when to ask. The opportunity simply presented itself, and he took it.

He continued his walk to the new Headmaster's Office, said the password, and climbed the spiraling staircase to meet with Dumbledore. Said man was sitting at his desk, reading some paper as England entered.

"Professor Kirkland, you have excellent timing." He said with a chuckle, sliding away the papers.

England took a seat from across the desk, folding his hands across his lap. "I do try, Headmaster. You said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I did. Tell me, Professor, have you ever heard of the Philosopher's Stone?"

This was not going in the direction of non-disclosure and safety agreements. Slowly, England nodded. "I have. A stone said to grant its user immortality against the flow of time, but not disease or injury. Is that correct?"

"Not to mention it transmutes lead to gold, but yes." Dumbledore verified. "This year, Hogwarts will be responsible for the protection of the Stone. My sources have lead me to believe that a possible heist is being planned, and that Gringott's security may be breached."

Something heavy settled in England's stomach. Anyone who sought immortality was a greedy, dangerous, desperate individual. And they were too egotistical to realize how much of a curse it really was.

"Headmaster, why exactly am I being told this?"

Dumbledore bridged his fingers and met England's eye. "I have asked each professor to create their own verification test for an extra few layers of security. It has to be solvable for the Stone's eventual return to its vault, but hard enough that if there were to be an intruder, we could subdue them before they manage to retrieve the Stone."

"And you're asking me to come up with my own test, is that right?" England sighed.

"Yes. You have until the week of the Stone's scheduled retrieval."

He raised an eyebrow. "And when exactly is that?"

Dumbledore only smiled. "I will only let you know if its overdue, for security purposes. But I trust in your ability to be on time, as so conveniently illustrated today."

England resisted the urge to simultaneously laugh and roll his eyes. Instead, he just settled for a neutral nod. "I won't disappoint. Now, is there anything else you would like to discuss with me today?"

Only then came out the non-disclosure and safety agreements, and England settled into an hour or two of reading over and signing documents with the company of one of the most accomplished mortal magicians of his time.

-0-

"Dude, Bush, pal," The tall, bright figure of America trailed after the current US President like an excited Golden Retriever puppy. "I've gotta talk to you bro. The craziest thing happened at the last World Meeting and you've gotta hear the story because, dude, it's seriously gonna the funniest thing you've ever heard."

The president only sighed, resigning himself to listening to the nation's story. Resistance had been proven to be futile after America knocked down the Oval Office's doors to announce the results of the 1989 Super Bowl.

"Alright, America, tell me. What happened?" He walked into his office and took a seat at his desk while America paced animatedly across the room, gesturing wildly.

"Okay, so, it started with that commie bastard Russia—you know Russia, right? Tall, bear-like, big nose? Anyways, yeah, so, Russia was talkin' to China about some Communist shit, and I was like Dude, not cool, so I went up to them and totally amazed them into silence with my awesomeness. And everything was all hunky dory and shit until Belarus tried to stab me, which is like, totally not okay."

Bush pulled out some of his paperwork and started going through the stacks. "Mhm."

"I know right?! So I dodged the knife because like, duh, and Russia took that as an opportunity to try to hit me with a pipe, because he's really grouchy that the USSR is totally falling apart, and so I dodged that too because lemme tell you, that pipe hurts like a motherfucker. Anyways, they ended up fighting each other, which was already pretty fucking hilarious because I'm pretty sure Russia's scared of Belarus, and everything's starting to go back to normal other than the weird fact that China was trying to set up another Chinatown, but the suddenly, Poland comes out of nowhere carrying Canada like he's a trophy or something, and he's just full on starts a riot by throwing Mattie across the room into Ghana."

"Uh-huh." Bush pushed up his reading glasses and continued with his paperwork.

"So then Mattie tries to get up and disappear into the riot like he usu—" The nation paused as if he were in a recording, frozen in speech and action. Bush looked up from his paperwork in mild concern, but only a moment later, America resumed as if nothing had happened. "—ally does, but James is a pretty hard guy to miss, so that completely failed. And so then, James just goes up to Poland and punches him, and the crowd goes wild, and dude, it was just so awesome."

"James? Don't you mean Matthew?" He'd been paying attention, if only slightly.

America paused, then started to laugh. "Matthew? I've never even heard of a Matthew—Wait, no, it's that one Canada representative who never shows up for anything unless the other three are dying in a ditch or something. I've met him like once? Twice, tops. But naw dude, I'm talking about Jamie Boy."

Bush just shrugged and went back to his paperwork as America continued his story. The "Mattie" from before must have been just a slip of the tongue.

-0-

Jane was starting to regret pushing Jett to go on his year-long magical adventure.

Sure, she didn't really regret it, because he needed a break every now and again, but the weight of his responsibilities on top of her own mixed with memories of how she was left for years to deal with paperwork while he was on the front lines in World War One and Two left Jane feeling sick at the mere idea that this was going to last for twelve months.

There were the micronations, from Gary to sickly little Lu, and all of them deserved her attention even if they didn't believe so. But there was also her people, and how she had to watch over them and make sure that they stayed united. And then there was her government, which she needed to take care of because it was a core part of what was keeping her alive.

There was just so, so much, and Jane was so, so overwhelmed.

Currently, she was in the kitchen, drawing with markers with Rory and Lance while Erika played with wooden blocks, giggling with delight whenever she knocked over her own towers.

"Janie, Janie, look!" Lance held up his paper, showing a drawing of a red ball with a slew of different stick figures on its edge. "This is us on Mars! You're here, and I'm here, and Bruce is there, and Bumby is there, and Gary and Leslie are there holding hands, and Rory is back on Earth because he was too mean to come on the rocket. And Jett and Lu are back home too, because Lu was too sick to come. But that's okay, because Jett's there to make sure she's okay, and I'll make sure to bring her lots and lots of Mars rocks."

She set down her own marker, and looked the micronation in the eyes. "Lance, even if Rory is mean sometimes, we'll never leave him behind because that's not nice. How would you feel if we left you home alone while everyone else got to go on a trip?"

"Really sad. And angry. But mostly sad." He admitted. "You think Rory would feel that way too?"

Rory looked up from his own drawing and scoffed. "You act as if I'm not right here."

"Well? Would you?"

The blonde boy scowled, looking away. "...Yes."

"Oh. Well then I'm sorry. I was mean." Lance hastily added another stick figure, then drew some money bags by its feet. "There you go, you're on Mars now."

Rory huffed and went back to his drawing, but Jane knew he was pleased in his own Rory-ish way. "What are you going to draw next, Lance?"

"Space." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, grabbing another sheet of paper and starting with the sun(which had sunglasses and a smile, per usual).

Jane glanced at Lance's paper which was a very well drawn version of the 100 dollar bill, and at her own drawing, which was of a Jabiru she'd seen the other day. It was good for what resources she had, and she was proud of how she'd made no glaring mistakes with the markers.

But the picture was done, and she took it as a sign that she couldn't stall any longer due to some twisted form of pride. She needed help, and she was going to get it one way or another.

So naturally, she called New Zealand.

The first to answer was Zack, who, from the sound of it, was in the middle of cooking dinner. "'Ello?"

"Hello, this is Jane. Are any of you available at the moment?"

She heard something clatter in the background, but there was no shouting so it was probably just Erika's blocks.

"Oh, Janie, how are you? Huihana's out back watering the plants right now, and Neal's on a trip to the South Island, but Avery's available if you'd like."

Jane nodded, even though she subconsciously knew he couldn't see it. "Yes, that would be great. And I'm doing well, by the way. Thank you for asking."

"No worries! Here, let me hand the phone over to Avery. I'll talk to you later!"

There was some static as the phone was passed around. "Jane, how nice of you to call!"

She barked a laugh. "Nice. Yeah, well, about that."

"What's wrong?" All the humor drained out of Avery's voice, leaving only concern. "Did something happen to one of the Micros?"

"Well, yes and no. Basically, Jett had to go on a trip and left me to deal with everything for a year. And I can't ask Kirra and Ngarra for help because it's not their burden, so I figured I just needed to talk to someone who would reassure me everything's fine."

"And that someone's me, right?" Avery asked.

Jane picked up the phone and carried it as far as she could so she could sit on the couch and talk. "The first person I thought of. So, do you mind if I talk your ear off for an hour?"

"You have until dinner's served, which knowing Zack, will probably be after you're done. So go for it."

"Alright. Here goes nothing."

And so she talked about how Jett was asked by Arthur to go on some year-long trip he didn't give her the details about, how she'd insisted he go even though she knew how much she hated being home alone from when she'd been forced to in the past, why she was overwhelmed every time she thought about everything that she'd have to do in the coming year to keep Australia running smoothly. How she was worried about Lu, and that she was concerned the Micronation was swiftly approaching Death's door.

How she hated herself for even wanting to have Jett come back in the first place, and how she felt weak for even thinking such a thing.

By the end, she was near tears, the sun was setting, and all the kids had assembled in the kitchen to make dinosaur chicken nuggets for dinner in the oven.

"So, um, yeah, that's why I decided to call you out of the blue." Jane hiccup-laughed, wiping a tear from her eye. "Sorry."

"No, no, it's alright. You obviously needed to talk about this to someone, and I'm more than happy to listen. But Jane, you've got to remember that you'll get through this. You were chosen to be Australia's Figurehead for a reason."

She blinked. "...What? No, Jett's the Figurehead."

Avery snickered. "Jett being a Figurehead, good one! I can totally imagine it for some reason, and that makes it so much worse. But in all seriousness, Janie, you can do it. You survived colonialism, you survived Gallipoli, and you survived taking care of several Micronations. You can do anything, as far as I'm aware."

She was never at Gallipoli. Jett was.

A chill crept up Jane's spine, and she nearly dropped the receiver as a realization came to her. This was a side effect of the magic Alice mentioned.

She was going to have to pretend(or was she actually now the Figurehead?) to be Australia's Figurehead for a month.

"Jane?"

She fumbled for the receiver and hastily said, "Sorry, Erika just spilled something. I've gotta go, but we'll chat later, okay?"

"Okay. Take care."

"You too." Jane hung up, heart racing. Did the kids also think she was the figurehead? Was that why Jett was left behind in Lance's drawing?

"You don't look so good." Gary said, walking into the room with a plate of chicken nuggets. Leslie followed him like a shadow, holding an identical plate.

Jane just sighed, letting exhaustion hand over her like a cloud. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

She hoped she wasn't lying.

-0-

James Williams was, in his own opinion, a busy man. While Canada as a nation wasn't usually the center of attention in world news, it was still the second largest country on Earth, and that meant he had to keep up appearances. Run things behind the scenes with the other nations with PM Mulroney running everything public. It was a good dynamic, and one he was well-acquainted with after decades of experience.

So then why was "Call Matthew about latest World Meeting" on his calendar?

Matthew, his brother of sorts, was the least politically involved out of all of them. The nation barely said a peep, rarely showed up for events, and never did anything of any value unless Madeline physically dragged him out of his home.

James couldn't think of any reason to call him other than to maybe wish him a Happy Holidays and Canada Day once a year, and definitely no reason to ask about the latest World Meeting. He wasn't sure if Matthew had even been to a World Meeting.

Still, it was on his calendar for a reason.

He flipped through his contacts book, trying to find Matthew's phone number from when he'd originally gotten it. Surprisingly, it was near the front, and starred.

Odd, but maybe that was Alfred's handiwork. He wouldn't put it past his southern counterpart. James put the number into his desk phone and waited.

He was redirected to voicemail after listening to an eternity of ringing, where his brother's quiet voice said, "Hello, this is Matthew Williams. I'm sorry I missed your call, but I will be sure to return it as soon as possible. Thank you for calling me."

He waited for the dial tone. "Hey, Matthew, I'm sorry for calling you out of the blue. I know politics aren't your thing, but for some reason my calendar said the ask you about the latest World Meeting. I probably meant to write Matias and was too tired to fix it, but in case I was actually supposed to call you, please call me back when you can. Thanks."

He ended the call, crossed "Call Matthew about latest World Meeting" off his calendar, and resumed his work.

Being the Figurehead wasn't an easy task, after all.

-0-

*crashes through window*

*does a somersault on landing*

*stands and bows*

GUESS WHO DIDN'T FORGET THIS FIC EXISTED

Hi everyone! I'm really, really sorry for dropping off the face of the Earth for the past...few? Couple? months. I caught a really nasty version of mono and I'm still not fully recovered, but thankfully my brain is operating enough nowadays that I could finish the extra 4k words this chapter was missing.

Thank you to everyone who commented, left a kudos, or bookmarked my work. I am so happy that you were able to get enjoyment out of this dumb idea of mine, and I can only hope that I'll continue to do so as I complete this story.

As always, if you'd like to talk to me, you can contact me at those2peeps or via discord at Fluff#0929. I'm always looking for more betas or just people who will chat with me at ungodly hours about story plans and ideas.

Once again, thank you all so much, and have a lovely day. (And if you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a comment, even if it's just emojis or incomprehensible keyspamming. They fuel me.)

Toodles,

Msperfectsheep

-0-

Mains:

Amelia Elizabeth Jones: Nyo!America

Arthur Kirkland: England

Jacob Alexander "Jett" Papalya: Australia

Matthew Jean Williams: Canada

Olivia "Vee" Kirkland: 2p!Nyo!England

Other(Varies per chapter):

Alice "Ally" Kirkland: Nyo!England

Jane Papalya: Nyo!Australia

Madeline Williams: Nyo!Canada

Marietta Williams: 2p!Nyo!Canada

Bumby: Bumbunga

Lucy "Lu" Papalya: Aeterna Lucina

Gary and Leslie Papalya: Gay and Lesbian Kingdom

Erika Papalya: Aerican Empire

Lance Papalya: Empire of Atlantium

Rory Papalya: Grand Duchy of Avram

Bruce Papalya: Independent State of Rainbow Creek

Ngarra: 2p!Australia

Kirra: 2p!Nyo!Australia

Steve "Stevie": Jett's Koala

Kumajiro: Matthew's Polar Bear Cub

Oliver "Ollie" Kirkland: 2p!England

James Williams: 2p!Canada

Alfred "Al" Jones: America

Gille Dubh: A forest faerie found in the Forgotten Forest

Cuthbert Binns: A Ghostly former Professor at Hogwarts. Used to teach The History of Magic

Sir Gawain: A painted knight from the legend of King Arthur

Kiare: A painted woman whose origins are unknown

Albus Dumbledore: Hogwart's Headmaster

George H.W. Bush: The current president of the United States as of when the story takes place(1991)

Zachary "Zack" Smith: New Zealand

Alicia "Avery" Smith: Nyo!New Zealand

Neal Smith: 2p!New Zealand

Huihana Smith: 2p!Nyo!New Zealand

PM Mulroney: Prime Minister Mulroney, the current Canadian Prime Minister at the time in which this fic is set.

Matias Kohler: Denmark