Hello, good world! Seven reviews for this chapter! THANK YOU PEOPLE, especially Aresjei, Zantetsuken Reverse, betsybugaboo, xXNaidaXx, Cookie05, Idea-explosion, and Iricelli! I have some good OC ideas, too, so we can be done with that. Thanks! Anyway, I still don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter, because if I did Cedric wouldn't have died and gone on to become a vampire. Now enjoy the butterbeer and review, please~
Chapter 6
Denmark leaves Norway as soon as he gets his wand and manages to grab some extra Galleons from him on the way. Why he was expected to stay put he isn't sure; after all, he has his sexy Viking-era body back and can use magic. This is a time for exploration. But first I want a beer, he thinks, redirecting himself to the pub they came in from, only to find Prussia already there. Said nation waves Denmark over when he sees him, calling to the barmaid for another butterbeer (whatever that is) as he does so.
"So, you get your wand yet?" Prussia asks as they wait, taking another swig of his drink. "Mine's awesome. Mistletoe wood."
"Mistletoe? We had a legend about mistletoe once; it's Norse mythology. Long story short, Baldur, the son of the goddess Frigga, was killed by the trickster god Loki using mistletoe because Loki just felt like it. Norge had some pretty weird ideas back in the day." Denmark is interrupted by the barmaid, Hannah, giving him a butterbeer. It looks like a beer with a thicker head, so Denmark does not hesitate. "Skål," he toasts, lifting the bottle up before taking a drink.
It does not taste like beer.
It tastes better.
Nine bottles and two resultant restroom trips later, Denmark bids Prussia farewell to spend whatever Galleons he has left on things other than butterbeer. He wanders out of the pub, not looking for anything in particular. When he sees Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, though, he knows where he's going.
The inside of the store is like a carnival. There is a display of toy cars that seem to hover a bit over where they are supposed to be. In one corner, a gaggle of young girls is fawning over something Denmark can't see. One wall is covered with candies and another with supplies for pranks. A purple display near the back catches Denmark's eye most, though, and so he investigates. Upon closer inspection, he sees the display is of little pouches of something.
An employee in magenta robes comes up to Denmark as he looks. "What do you think of the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder?"
"Peruvian what?"
"Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Throw a bit in the air and it'll get so dark in that room that no one can see. Light spells can't even penetrate it. The more you use, the longer it lasts. Though we've had some complaints in the past, so you're going to have to be sixteen to buy it," the employee, perhaps sixteen or seventeen himself, explains.
"Well, I'm definitely sixteen, so I'll take some," Denmark says, grabbing a pouch. "Now, this is my first time here, and I like this place. What else have you got for me?"
-/|\-
It would not be fair to Britain and Norway to say that finding all of the nations they are responsible for is difficult. It is actually next to impossible. Somehow, though, they manage, mostly thanks to Britain's idea of bribing America with a scoop of ice cream per nation he brings back. In the end, it pays off, and they finish their shopping with as few hitches as possible with such a group.
The new merchandise is piled in an out-of-the-way corner and Britain teleports it back to his basement with a flick of his wand. The nations march back through the Leaky Cauldron – Denmark buys several bottles of butterbeer on his way out – and into the Muggle world. On their way back, it is as if nothing has happened. Romano pulls Spain away from the girls that flock to him like turtles. Belarus stays as close to Russia as is possible. Latvia stays as far from Russia as is possible. Liechtenstein skips ahead, closely followed by Switzerland. The world goes on. Britain sighs, relishing the normalcy. Tonight he would have to plan out lessons to make sure the nations are competent enough for their classes and work out the other, finer parts of his plan. Like where they were to practice before school begins.
Suddenly getting an idea, Britain smiles. Perhaps he can impose upon two other good old friends, just for a while.
-/|\-
"Ah, Arthur! I'm so happy you sent an owl. It's been a long time." Molly Weasley steps out onto the porch of the Burrow to give Britain a hug, which he happily returns.
"Yes, sorry it was on such short notice, love. I really do appreciate you letting us use your place for a while."
"Oh, there's no problem at all! The tents are in the broom closet outside; I'm sure you can set them up. We'll have dinner when Arthur – Mr. Weasley, I suppose; don't want to get you two mixed up somehow – when Mr. Weasley gets home."
"You don't have to cook for all thirty of us, really."
"I won't be. They have multiplying spells for a reason, don't they?"
"Very well. I really do appreciate this, Molly."
"As long as someone explains what exactly this is about to me later, I'm fine with it. You're a responsible wizard. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask."
"Thank you." Molly smiles and waves at the line of nations behind Britain before retreating back into the Burrow to clean and cook.
"Tents?" Austria confirms woefully.
"Tents," Britain agrees, grinning. "But I guarantee even you will like these tents, Roderich. Alfred, come help me move them; they'll be heavy."
"Got it!"
The two tents are quickly retrieved and set up by Britain and America as the other nations look on skeptically. They appear to only be able to hold perhaps four people each. When the boys enter the one Britain directs them to, however, they find that it is much grander. The front room has a ten-foot-high ceiling and two long tables with twenty-six chairs in total. The walls are canvas, but one still somehow has two doors in it. One is open to a bathroom. Greece curiously opens the second to reveal a long row of bunk beds. Shrugging, he takes advantage of the bottom of the first one until Turkey quite literally drags him into an argument.
The girls' tent is rightfully smaller, with a circular table with four chairs in the front, an alcove to the side with two bunk beds, and two doors as well – one to the bathroom, one to a walk-in closet. After touring their lodging (and squealing over the girls' closet, in Poland's case), the nations reconvene outside.
"Well, I think it's time to get started, then. The first years don't really have to participate, since I'll just be teaching from their curriculum today anyway," Britain explains, and twenty-five nations are herded into a line by Britain and Norway, leaving first years Latvia, Liechtenstein, and Iceland to do what they please. For a while they watch the older ones learn charms, but when one of Poland's spells goes haywire and Latvia has to tackle Liechtenstein to keep her from being set on fire, Iceland suggests they go inside.
He knocks on the door of the Burrow, the other two standing behind him awkwardly. "Hello, dears. What can I do for you?" asks Mrs. Weasley when she opens the door.
"We were just hoping to come inside for a while," Latvia says. "I mean, if it's alright. It's getting sort of dangerous out there." He gestures toward Russia, who has mastered the fire-making charm and is practicing by continually sending it toward Estonia, who always ducks away just in time.
"Well, then, come in, dears. I'll make some tea. What are your names?"
"Emil."
"Raivis…"
"And I'm Lili. Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. We appreciate your help a lot."
"Oh, no problem, dear. Now, at the risk of sounding rude or nosy, what countries do you represent? Arthur's told me a lot about you and your friends."
"You know too? I didn't think he told that many people," says Liechtenstein, surprised.
"My husband and I were part of the Order of the Phoenix. We heard a lot of very… secretive things."
"Order of the Phoenix?" Latvia questions.
"Yes, dear. But you'll learn about it in History of Magic."
"Well, I'm Iceland, and I'm going now, if you don't mind," Iceland announces. "I think I forgot to feed my puffin." He leaves the Burrow without another word. Mrs. Weasley arches her eyebrow but says nothing, instead turning her attention on Latvia.
"L-L-Latvia," he stutters. "And I think I'll go too." He races out after Iceland.
Liechtenstein explains, "I'm sorry; they're just a little nervous. Usually people aren't told exactly who we are, or if they are told, it's only our own citizens, and most of them don't really believe it. The only one I thought really told a lot of people is France, and Big Brother Switzerland told the nice lady who lives next door to us."
"So you're Liechtenstein?"
"Yes. Thank you; lots of people haven't heard of my country, or they think it's a part of Big Brother's or Mr. Austria's land." The tea kettle whistles, and Mrs. Weasley smiles and pours two cups. The two sit in silence for a while, enjoying the tea, before Liechtenstein offers to help Mrs. Weasley cook.
"Well, what do you propose we have for dinner?"
Liechtenstein shrugs. "Big Brother likes my sandwiches. They'll be good for if they want to keep practicing too."
"A fine idea, then. Ham or turkey?"
"Turkey, please."
A single extravagant sandwich is made and placed in the middle of a huge platter. Mrs. Weasley tells Liechtenstein to back up from the table, which she does, and then pulls out her wand and multiplies the sandwich with a wordless spell. In an instant the platter and another are filled, and the two women carry them outside.
"FOOD!" America whoops when he sees them. He races to Liechtenstein and snatches a sandwich. "Thanks, dudes!"
Chuckling to herself, Mrs. Weasley leads the nations into the boys' tent and the sandwiches are shared as soon as six extra chairs can be conjured. Dinner is interrupted by someone levitating a textbook and dropping it on Britain's head. The culprit is found to be Prussia, and Germany punishes him accordingly. Mrs. Weasley is slightly concerned by his requirement to do two hundred pushups in four minutes, but Liechtenstein can tell she's seen such things before.
Mr. Weasley comes in halfway through dinner, and after the initial surprise about the thirty supposed teenagers suddenly bunking on his property, he wastes no time in asking how movies work. Naturally, this causes France and Britain to instantly get into an argument, France explaining how he and his countrymen invented the movies, Britain insisting that "no one bloody CARES, wanker!" Germany breaks them up when they start a full fight about it, but not before a few nasty cuts were given. These Ukraine mends with a spell out of the textbook Prussia dropped.
"Do they always act like that?" Mr. Weasley asks Hungary. "They're worse than Fred and George were as teenagers."
"I'm afraid so," she answers, giggling slightly. "It's international relations. They always were like that, and still are, and evermore shall be. Don't you think it's sort of cute?"
Oh, Hungary. Everyone's favorite fujoshi. But I've gotten through (most of) the necessary FrUK now. And Denmark would get semi-addicted to butterbeer, wouldn't he? As for the Weasleys, well, they had to make some sort of appearance, and some of this may come in again later.
The poll is coming along nicely, but Russia, Latvia, and Lithuania have votes and Eesti still doesn't. :-( Sorry, I'm an Estonia fangirl. But he's not the only one. Come on, people, show your multinational pride!
Just to clarify a few things: all nations will be students, they are in all different houses and years, and each has a unique wand. The spell Britain attempted to place on Switzerland to give him magical powers that then spread to everyone else was meant to last a year. This takes place in the 2012-2013 school year, and events should follow accordingly, within reason. But supposing - God forbid it, but supposing - there were to be a terrible attack or natural disaster of some sort in one of the countries in the story, it should be written in that they feel it, assuming it could have any relevance to plotline. They're still nations, after all.
Review, please?
Tak! Se dig senere!
Translations:
Norge - Norway, Danish
skål - cheers, Danish
Tak! Se dig senere! - Thank you! See you later! Danish