Chapter Five

Dumbledore was about to speak. America wished that the old man would get on with it as he was starving, it must've been at least five hours since he'd had a burger. He knew that once the boring dude finished talking he'd finally be allowed to eat. He glanced around the hall, trying to see which houses his friends had been placed in, he hadn't really listened to the sorting as he'd been too distracted by his surroundings. The Sorting Hat appeared to be quite good at its job, America observed. Everyone seemed to be pretty much in the right house. He then caught a glimpse of a tall student with a scarf sitting at the yellow table. Wait, is that Russia? America squinted at the teenager. Yep, that was definitely Russia. Isn't Hufflepuff the nice house? America took back what he had said earlier; maybe the Sorting Hat wasn't so good at its job after all.

"Hello? Alfred, I'm talking to you." An annoyed England was waving his hands in front of America.

"I think he's daydreaming…" Germany who was sitting opposite America began to click his fingers in front of the American's face.

"Don't worry guys, I got this." Denmark, who was sitting to the left of America, scooted closer and yelled in his ear, "McDonalds is out of business and it's closing forever!"

The American practically leapt out of his seat. "What?!" America glared at Denmark who was laughing. "Dude, that is not funny."

England rolled his eyes. "Oh, for God's sake Matthias, did you really have to make that much noise?"

Denmark glared at England. "You're welcome." He then turned around and began flirting with one of the many females at the Gryffindor table, unaware of the look he was receiving from one of his fellow Nordics who was situated at the Slytherin table.

Denmark wasn't the only one who was receiving attention from the Slytherin table. Prussia was currently attempting to listen to France's ramblings about God-knows-what without falling This wasn't going very well as he was too busy staring at Hungary who was currently twirling her frying pan(how she got it there was beyond Prussia ) and talking to Germany.

"Gilbert, are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" France snapped. If there was one thing he hated most of all, it was being ignored. He momentarily thought about what it must be like to be Canada and shuddered.

Prussia drew his gaze away from Hungary at the sound of his friend's harsh tone, he turned to face his French pal. "Yeah, something about…wine and cheese?"

Prussia immediately winced, now he'd just made it so obvious that he hadn't been listening.

Frances's scowl immediately turned into a smile at his friend's statement. "Oh, you were listening! Anyway…" He then went on to give a lecture on how French wine was far more superior to any other wine (especially British wine).


Dumbledore observed the hall with a vague feeling of annoyance, which was unlike him. He'd been standing at his podium for about five minutes now and the students were still being noisy and not paying any attention. He suspected that it had something to do with the new "transfers"; they'd seemed to cause quite a stir among the regular Hogwarts students. What irked Dumbledore, even more, was the fact that he actually had an important announcement to make; he needed to tell the students about the Triwizard Tournament. He'd even arranged for Barty Crouch Sr., the head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation, to explain the rules to the students. He tapped the podium again as he tried to grab the student's attention.

"Can everyone be quiet for a minute?" There was no response, nobody had noticed.

"Students, please." Still no response.

"SILENCE!" No-one turned his way, though a distinct cry of "I'm the Hero!" was heard from the Gryffindor table.

Luckily, the weather solved his problem. (Dumbledore considered this ironic seeing as British weather had a tendency to ruin everything.) The magical ceiling of the Great Hall transformed into darkness. Threatening thunderclouds and bolts of lightning which seemed to come from the heavens shot out across the ceiling. As expected, the students of Hogwarts panicked. Dumbledore was just about to pull out his wand, but someone beat him to it. He whipped around and saw that it was an old friend, Alastor Moody. Dumbledore smiled at him and turned back to his students who were now completely silent, expressions of confusion and bewilderment lined their faces.

"Now that I have everyone's attention, I shall start my speech." Dumbledore began, noticing that the students now looked slightly guilty.

"This year is a very important year for both the students and the school, for this is the year of the Triwizard Tournament." A few murmurs were heard throughout the hall, mainly from the older students who would know what the Triwizard Tournament was.

Dumbledore continued. "The Triwizard Tournament is a competition between three different schools within the wizarding community. These schools are Beauxbatons, Durmstang and, of course, Hogwarts. This year it is our turn to host this tournament. Students from Beauxbatons and Durmstang shall be staying at our school for the duration of this Tournament."

This time, a loud cluster of excited chatter was heard around the hall, and Dumbledore had to fight back a smile. He, too, was excited for this tournament that would, hopefully, bring the wizarding community together.

The other two schools had already arrived and Dumbledore was eager to let them in. "Now please give a warm welcome to the students of Beauxbatons."

The girls of Beauxbatons skipped along the hall, their short skirts ruffling behind them. Dumbledore noted that nearly every male in the hall was staring at the girls. The Slytherin transfer that Dumbledore knew as France was practically drooling and his albino friend wasn't doing much better.

Dumbledore greeted Madame Maxime, and the students of Beauxbatons sat at the tables with the Hogwarts students who, once again, would not shut up.

"Settle down please!" They settled, much to Dumbledore's amazement. "Now, please give another warm welcome to the students of Durmstang!"

The Durmstang students entered, in perfect synchronisation with one another. Dumbledore shook Karakoff's hand and the Bulgarian students sat down.

Dumbledore clasped his hands together. "Now that we have the welcomes out of the way, let's get on with the rules. Mister Barty Crouch, from the Ministry, has come all this way to explain them to you." Dumbledore beckoned Barty forward and sat down. He took a long sip of wine, he needed it.


As Barty Crouch Sr. explained the rules of the tournament, America bounced up and down in his seat. "Did you hear what he said? If you win the tournament thingy- you'll be a hero! Like an actual real-life one. Oh, Arthur, I should put my name in the cuppy thing so that I can be a hero!" America's blue eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Yes, I also heard the part where he said that the tournament was extremely dangerous and could lead to death. Alfred, there is no way that you are entering that. Besides, it's a goblet, not a cup." England huffed, rolling his eyes.

America pouted. "But I wanna be a hero! Come on Artie, please..." he whined, tugging on England's robes.

England crossed his arms and pulled the same expression that a stern father would give his son. "No, Alfred. There is no way I am letting you do that! Also, didn't you listen to a word that man said? You're not even allowed to enter the tournament until you turn seventeen and we're fourteen, remember? Don't you think that it would arouse some sort of suspicion?"

America frowned and tried to keep his voice low as he whispered. "But we're not actually fourteen are we? We're, like, hundreds of years old, duh."

"Alfred, you are not putting your name in that goblet. That is final."

America's eyes narrowed and his voice rose in volume. "I don't care what you say, Arthur! I'm America and I can do what I want!"

Hermione, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation, turned to the arguing pair, a confused look plain on her face.

"Excuse me, but did you just say that you're America, as in the country?"

"American. He said he was American." England replied before America could say something stupid which, knowing the American, would have been inevitable.

"Hmm…" Hermione stared at the pair before turning back to Ron and Harry.

"That was bloody close."

"Way too close."


With the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament out of the way, Dumbledore finally let the Welcome Feast begin. Food just appeared on the table, to the delight of the nations. They were all so hungry that they dismissed the fact that the food was British (well, all apart from America who received a "My food's fine, you git" from an angry Englishman).

When the food appeared…so did the ghosts, much to America's horror. As soon as Nearly- Headless Nick appeared, America leapt out of his seat and landed directly into the lap of a disgruntled England.

"Dude ohmygosh, there's ghosts. Real-life, scary as hell ghosts. I don't like this magic school anymore!" America wailed.

England sighed. He had to put up with this for an entire year.


When the feast was over, the Prefects of each house rose and began to head to their respective dormitories. The nations noticed this and followed suit, all apart from Italy who was determined to find Germany.

Spotting a familiar newly turned teenager with blonde hair, blue eyes and red robes, Italy skipped over and grabbed the nation in a tight hug, much to Germany's embarrassment.

"Ve~ Ger- I mean Luddy! I found you. I was looking for ages, I wanted to say goodnight to you!" The smaller country beamed up at Germany.

"Yeah Feliciano, that's nice. Err… I have to go now, though, the Gryffindor's are leaving. Goodnight Feli…" Germany unwrapped himself from the Italian's hold and began to walk away.

"Wait!" Germany waited.

"I just wanted to know… are you going to put your name in the Goblet?" Italy began to twiddle his thumbs as he stared at the floor.

Germany's eyes shifted. "I don't know…maybe, why?"

At this, Italy threw himself at the German. "No! I don't want you to! Didn't you hear what that man said? You could die and I don't want you to die! That'd be horrible and I'd have to go to your funeral and I'd cry and cry and Romano would yell at me. It'd be horrible and sad and..."

Germany interrupted before Italy could ramble on any further. "Feli, stop it. If it means that much to you then I won't put myself forward, okay? I…I didn't know that you cared so much. I promise I won't do it."

Italy nodded and Germany smiled to himself. The Italian had overlooked the fact that Germany couldn't actuallydie, but he didn't want to upset Italy any further by pointing this out.

"How pathetic, look at that snivelling Italian brat. Why are you crying? Did they run out of pasta for the 'ickle baby..?" A voice sneered from behind Germany.

Germany whipped around to see a Slytherin teenager, about the same "age" as them. He had blonde unruly hair and grey eyes. He was flanked by two other teenagers; one fat, one lean, both ugly.

Germany was about to snap at the rotten dummkopf, but he had already walked away. Italy, clearly upset by the Slytherin's cruel words, broke their embrace.

"Goodnight Luddy." The Italian walked away, tears fresh in his amber eyes.

"Goodnigh, Feli…" But he was already gone.


The Gryffindor common room was awash with sound as they welcomed the new transfer students. The Prefects had to yell over the noise to get their housemates to go to bed.

Hungary said her goodnight to the boys and made her way to her dorm with Hermione, leaving the males to troop to their own dorm.

"Did you guys see Snape at the feast? He seemed shifty…" Harry said as he clambered into his bed.

"Oh, Snape always seems shifty to you, Harry," Neville reasoned.

"That's because he's a creep," Ron retaliated.

The four new students listened with interest as the boys began to have a discussion about their horrible Potions professor.

"Ah I doubt he's that bad, lads," Denmark joked.

"Ha! Wait 'til you meet him…" Seamus trailed off having fallen asleep mid-sentence.

"Does he do that often?" England said, one of his messy eyebrows raised in slight surprise.

"Meh, it's Seamus." Dean shrugged and the other young wizards agreed.

All of the boys were now in bed and they muttered their goodnights. One by one they began to fall asleep until there were only two people left awake.

"Hey… Artie are ya' still awake?"

"Well, I am now;" he huffed, even though he had been awake the whole time.

America didn't respond and there was silence.

"Well, what did you want?"

America turned to the side so that his face was muffled by his pillow. "I'm sorry about earlier…"

England smirked in the darkness. "What was that, Alfred? I didn't quite catch that…"

America lifted up his head so that he could speak louder. "I said I'm sorry about earlier!

"Hum, thought so." He turned to his side, about to go to sleep and then he had a sudden afterthought.

"So does this mean that you're not putting your name in that infernal goblet?"

A pause, then: "Nope."

England scrunched up his face in frustration and sighed. "Fine. I thought so anyway… Goodnight, Alfred."

"Goodnight Artie!"


The Ravenclaw house didn't need much encouragement to get to bed. They were all tired and the next day would be the official beginning of the school year, the first day of lessons.

The nations followed the Prefect's directions and headed to their dorm to find that the other boys were already there.

"So… whereabouts are you guys from?" Terry Boot asked.

"I am from Japan. My name is Kiku, in case you have forgotten." Japan bowed stiffly and got into his bed.

"My homeland is China. Also, I am Yao!" The Chinese teen told the Ravenclaw wizards before getting into bed.

"I'm from Canada and my name's Matthew." Canada smiled softly, shrugged and climbed into bed.

"Sweden. I'm missing my wife." Sweden looked sad. Well, as sad as Sweden could possibly look. He flopped onto his bed.

"What did he say?" Michael asked.

"You heard right. He said that he's from Sweden and that he's missing his wife." Everyone turned to look at the speaker.

"You get used to it after a while," Canada said.

"What's up with grumpy over there?" Anthony tilted his head, showing that he was indicating to Austria.

"Oh, he's just upset because he's been separated from his one true love."

Austria glared at Canada whilst the three Ravenclaw wizards looked on. " I am not upset over that. I'm upset because so far I haven't seen a single piano."

"That's what I meant…" Canada's lips curled into a smile. "But, about the other thing, how are you feeling about the fact that Elizaveta has been placed in a different house to you?"

Austria merely scoffed and got into bed muttering. "I am not in love."

Canada turned to the three students. "That's Roderich. He's from Austria and he's lovesick."

"I am not."

"He is," Canada stage-whispered.

Everybody said their goodnights and soon the Ravenclaw dorm was silent.


"Why were you talking to that Potato Bastard, anyway?" Romano questioned.

"I just needed to check something, that's all!" Italy chirped.

The nations, along with the other Hufflepuff fourth years, were getting ready for bed.

"Ugh, will you guys just shut up already?" Ernie Macmillan moaned whilst throwing the covers over himself.

"Ernie, these students are new. Can't you just be nice for once?" Justin Finch-Fletchley scolded his fellow Hufflepuff.

"Ugh." Ernie turned over and tried to get some sleep.

Despite his friend's pessimism, Justin grinned. "Just ignore him. So, tell me about yourselves. Where are you guys from? What are your names? I wasn't paying much attention in the Sorting…"

Ever optimistic, Spain was the first to introduce himself. "I'm Antonio and I'm from Spain!"

Justin nodded. "What about you?" he asked, pointing to Romano.

"Lovino. From Italy."

"Lovi! Don't be so rude." Spain nudged Romano. "I'm sorry, he's awkward around people."

"Don't apologise for me, you bastard!" Romano yelled, making both Italy and Justin flinch.

Spain merely shrugged and held his arms up in surrender.

Finland smiled brightly. "Hi, I'm Tino. I'm from Finland!"

"My turn now, I think. I am Ivan, from Russia. We shall be friends, yes?" He smiled his typical childlike smile and Justin felt compelled to nod.

"I am Feliciano, also from Italy! Lovino is my brother!" Italy bounced up and down. Draco's cruel words had been forgotten.

A couple of seconds later Justin yawned.

"Well, it was nice meeting you all, but I'm beat, I'm going to bed now."

A chorus of "me too" sounded around the Hufflepuff dorm

The goodnights were spoken and the Hufflepuffs fell asleep, eager for the new day.


"Why do we have to have transfers in our house anyway?" Nott grumbled to his fellow Slytherins.

"Could be worse, we could have the sodding Pasta lovers in our house as well," Crabbe muttered and Goyle was inclined to agree with him.

"For God's sake, this whole thing is ridiculous. Transfers in our fourth year? The year of the Triwizard Tournament too, Dumbledore really has lost it." Draco announced to the Slytherin boys and they all nodded in agreement.

"Oh look, here come the losers now," Goyle said, stating the obvious as usual.

The aforementioned transfers had finally made their way to their dorm, with no help from any of the Prefects. They were all tired and they just wanted to go to bed.

"Seriously, shut up. The awesome me is not in the mood for you jerks," Prussia snapped as he yanked back his covers, ready for bed.

Norway and Iceland calmly got into their beds and tried to get to sleep. If there were to be an argument, they didn't want to be involved.

"Gilbert is right. Why do you guys have to be so mean?" France complained, copying his friend and sliding into bed.

Draco scoffed. "Hey Gilbert, you better not try anything on with me. I know I'm your type and everything." The other Slytherin boys knew where this was going and they laughed.

Prussia's body began to tense. "Excuse me?" Red eyes stared into calculating grey ones.

"You heard me. Since your brother is so obviously gay with that pasta loving freak, I assume that you are too. After all, isn't it genetic?" Draco's obnoxious voice increased in its harshness and the laughter in the room amplified.

"Right, that's it!"

"Gilbert, don-"

But it was too late, Prussia had leapt off his bed and had Draco pinned to the wall, much to the bewilderment of the other fourth years.

"Number one: Don't say stuff about my brother. Number two: Don't ever pick on innocent Feliciano like that, you scumbag and Number three: I'm not gay and if I was I wouldn't ever try it on with you. Frankly, you're disgusting and I'd rather try it on with my buddy Francis over here, he has fabulous hair."

"Thanks, Gil."

"No problem, buddy." He let go of Draco. "Do you understand?"

"Y-You're crazy," Draco's voice had risen in pitch.

Prussia flashed a toothy grin. "Yep, and don't you forget it."

He sauntered over to his bed, but he felt drained. Who knew that magic school would be so exhausting?

Needless to say, no goodnights were uttered in the Slytherin dorm.


A/N: Okay, I'm so sorry for not updating sooner; I have been SUPER busy and I've been suffering from major writer's block. Hence, the crappy chapter.

But, it's a long one so I hope that sorta makes up for it :D

I kinda want to apologise for the substantial amount of America in this chapter, but he is like the main character of this fic so it's kinda necessary.

I feel so bad for my portrayal of Draco as a major asshole but it's kinda necessary and I mean, as misunderstood as I feel he is, he's still a total jerk in this book.

Anyway, until next time!
*salutes*

EDIT: Thanks to a reviewer pointing it out, I realised that I hadn't mentioned the whole ages thingy, so it has now been edited in!

Review if you want to!

~BooksAreLikeChocolateButBetter