Hello! So many reviews! You guys rock! Five reviews for last chapter, courtesy of Zantetsuken Reverse, betsybugaboo, Kudo Shinichi Tanteisan, forever-sweet, and Aresjei. Here are your virtual fish & chips and pasta! *Gives food* Although I have one question: what was so funny last chapter? Besides our dear America epically failing with magic, I actually didn't intend to write much humor. I'm glad you liked it, but tell me what "it" is in a review, please~ Anyway, I swear I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter. If I owned Hetalia, Estonia would be considered Nordic, thank you very much. He deserves it.

This is that awkward chapter that appears at least once in all lengthy fics with a lot of explanation of a setting change and some random humor. But here you go; hope you like it anyway!

Chapter 4

"I can't believe you got me into this, tomato b******," Romano groans as he follows the crowd of nations down the streets of London.

"Oh, come now, Roma. What did I do to cause this? And you must admit everyone looks good as teenagers," Spain attempts to reassure his former charge.

"I DON'T WANT TO BE THIRTEEN F***ING YEARS OLD!" he screams in answer, earning him several odd and uncomfortable looks from bystanders. Embarrassed, he lowers his voice. "And you just look wrong as a fifteen-year-old. What the f*** is with the ponytail anyway?"

As they were going to a school for teenagers, Britain had decided that it would be best if the nations looked the part. Several spells later, the years the countries would go into were chosen and said countries were changed back to how they looked as chibis of those ages. There was more than one unexpected or awkward change – Spain had regained the ponytail he had grown out as a pirate, and Hungary was given the body that made her first realize she was female. Ukraine blessedly lost some of her "large tracts of land" in her reversion to sixteen, though they are still very large.

"Hush, fratello. Britain says we're going somewhere," Italy informs him. Romano mumbles something about not caring what the tea-loving jerk has to say, but listens anyway. The convoy reaches a dark pub with a sign over the door reading The Leaky Cauldron. Britain opens the door in a gentlemanly fashion to let Ukraine and Liechtenstein in before intentionally dropping it in France's face. Shrugging, that nation opens the door and holds it for the others.

No one is entirely sure how, but the thirty nations somehow fit comfortably inside the pub. The bartender boggles at the number of people who had just convoyed into her establishment before turning to the one who looked most like a wizard she knew, albeit a younger version of said wizard. "Arthur?" she questions to be certain.

"Yes, Hannah, love, I'm still Arthur. Sorry, it's a rather long story that is probably more appropriate for another time. I don't suppose you have a room that could accommodate all of us for a brief meeting before we head into Diagon Alley," Britain says.

Hannah the bartender blinks. "You could probably use the cellar, but that's the most privacy I can manage for such a large group on short notice."

"The cellar is perfect, love," Britain smiles, and he leads the way downstairs.

Once in the cellar, the nations arrange themselves facing Britain, who shifts awkwardly under their gazes before speaking. "We are about to enter Diagon Alley, where we will get everything we need to go to Hogwarts. Norway is already at Gringotts retrieving some money from my vault for us to use. I've ordered the books and other standard materials ahead of time, so they shall be waiting at Hogwarts, but we still need robes, wands, and the other specialized supplies. After that… well, there's not enough time before the school year starts to do much, but I'd like to teach some basic spells so that we can fit in better. After all, it would be rather odd if there were a seventh year who couldn't even use basic first-year spells, wouldn't it? Now, from now on, everyone must use their human names. Do we all know each other's names?"

The crowd generally responded in the affirmative, so Britain moves on. "Good. We'll take the train to Hogwarts and then get sorted into houses. While we are at Hogwarts, I would still like to be able to give lessons pertaining to easier spells, if you don't mind. We have Minerva's – the headmistress's – complete cooperation."

Poland raises his hand, but does not wait to be called on before speaking. "Like, how does this sorting thing work? And, like, are those robes totally hideous? I don't want to be totally hideous."

Britain rolls his eyes. "The robes and school clothes are standard. You'll just have to get used to them. As for the sorting, students are put into one of the four houses based on personality. There's Gryffindor, which is the house for the bravest and boldest. Hufflepuff is for the kind and hard-working, or if there's someone who doesn't fit into any house, they usually go to Hufflepuff. Slytherin – more Dark wizards and witches have come from Slytherin than any other house, but that is not to say they are bad. They are simply very cunning and ambitious. Slytherin students and Gryffindor students have quite a rivalry, so be careful. The last house is Ravenclaw. Its students are intelligent and unique. When you are sorted, it's final. Don't complain. There are no really bad houses. Oh, good, Norway, there you are."

The aforementioned nation comes back into the room holding a large bag of money. As he and Britain divide it between themselves, chatter breaks out among the nations. Poland turns to Lithuania. "You're, like, totally going to be in Ravenclaw. You're so smart. Like, I wonder what house I'll be in. Probably just Hufflepuff where they dump the leftovers." His face brightens as he thinks of a possibility. "OMG, like, maybe I'll be in Ravenclaw with you! That would be so totally cool!"

"Yes, Poland, it would," Lithuania answers distractedly, and Poland starts happily ranting about the robes and how he hopes they are a good color. Lithuania lets his eyes and mind wander to Belarus, who is sitting next to an uncomfortable-looking Russia, and vows that he will get her out on a date with him sometime during the school year. Even if he does have to do it as a thirteen-year-old wizard.

"Alright then, we're leaving!" Britain calls, quieting the room. "Half of you please follow Norway; the other half, come with me."

The nations file out of the cellar and out the back door of the pub. Hannah waves to Britain as they go. Once behind the pub, Norway taps the brick wall with his wand, and it begins to deconstruct itself. A gasp ripples through the crowd of countries as they watch this first large act of magic. Predictably, they all disband immediately and run through the gateway to explore the stores beyond.

Britain sighs and slumps back against the reformed wall. "I wish someone would actually listen to me for once. Honestly, those idiots are going to get themselves killed at this rate."

Beside him, Norway shrugs. "We still have the money. They will come back when they realize they need Galleons instead of Euros or dollars or whatever they have. Although… ugh, lillebror ran off too. I don't think he'll come back on his own, so I'm going to go find him. See you," he says and walks off.

Spain has a ponytail! Cue fangirl mode complete with nosebleed. Seriously. Go look up the Pirate!Spain fanart; I don't really like Spain but I still admit he looks really good with the ponytail. It seems Romano begs to differ, though. But he's Romano. Who knows?

Unfortunately, there will be a short mini-hiatus before the next chapter's up. I'm guesstimating I'll be back around Tuesday or so. It will be worth the wait, though - the next chapter has the some of the nations' adventures in Ollivander's wand shop, the introductions of two OC students, and more. It's my favorite chapter I've written so far!

This story takes place in the 2012-2013 school year, and it finally occurred to me that Hogwarts is a big school that will have lots of students in it. So, if you want, you could help me out a bit by generating characters: names, grades, houses, general appearance, favorite hobby, and any extra info you want to give. Please note that no OC's from readers will have a huge role, but they will be there (importance-wise, they may be up to the equivalents of Ernie MacMillan or Angelina Johnson, but no more, probably less). I especially need more Quidditch players; they will be chosen from among submissions. Please consider all houses, grades, and genders. IF YOU WISH TO SUBMIT, PLEASE DO IT VIA PM. This will be open until the next chapter's up!

You people are awesome. Reviewers get France's crepes or Canada's maple syrup!

Grazie! Ci vediamo più tardi!

Translations:
fratello - brother, Italian
lillebror - little brother, Norwegian
Grazie! Ci vediamo più tardi! - Thank you! See you later! Italian