Canada's POV
Alfred lunged at the pale boy, his fingers already grasping for his throat. Luckily, Arthur was quick to react and tripped him. By his response time, this was probably not the first time he had had to do this. The pale boy said something about telling his father and ran off like Denmark was chasing him wanting a hug.
"You bloody idiot! You may only look eleven, but everything, including your strength, is the same. We don't need to get arrested before we board the train." Arthur whisper yelled trying to make himself look taller but failing miserably next to the US of A.
Alfred mumbled an apology peered sheepishly at his shoes. Arthur crossed his arms and turned on his heel with his nose in the air. Francis looked similarly put out and followed diligently behind the younger country. I asked quickened my pace to walk beside Francis to ask what Mudblood meant and why it was supposedly so offensive.
"It is a bad term for muggleborn wizard. It is not a word that should be used. It would be like saying a swear word. That kid must be a pure blood and his family must have sided with the Dark Lord." He explained.
I felt cold rage settle in my gut and I could tell by the stiffening muscles in Al's back that he had heard the explanation. I hope that kid won't be a problem but who knows.
We went on to get the rest of the supplies. Luckily, nothing else happened. We went for ice cream though it was hard to eat with the stacks of boxes and bags occupying our arms.
The second time I almost dropped my gelado, Arthur huffed, pulled out his wand and shrunk everything to fit into a single bag. I realize something when we got the ice cream. Alfred and I were screaming for ice cream.
A lady commented fondly while she passed by us. "Children." That was when I realize that this our first time to act like our appearance suggests. Once you look like a teen, nations usually learn how to act like nations and take on more responsibility for running themselves. To have the mentality of a child for more than a century was rare in nations and of the four of us, Alfred had the shortest childhood.
His people's and by extent, his, past was bloody. I wonder if that is why he acts the way he does; he's trying to be kid to make up for the time he couldn't be. Al and I are still considered kids compared to European and Asian countries.
I'm happy: this will be his chance, all of our chances, to have a semi-normal childhood. You know, the kind with owls, spontaneous transportation, and magic.
France's POV
Matthew was so cute when he and Alfred ran screaming to the ice cream parlor. After finishing our ice cream Arthur hurried us to the train station muttering about being late when the train didn't leave for another half hour. We followed Arthur's clipped footsteps through the throng of people crowding the station waiting for their trains to arrive.
I glanced down at my ticket again and refrained from asking my cousin where in the world would platform 9 and ¾ be located. I don't make it point to spend more time than necessary in train stations but I know that the numbers go 1,2,3- no fractions. When we arrive at the third pillar past the platform 9 sign Arthur stopped abruptly.
"To get to the platform we have to run through this wall." I have seen enough to believe that but I question wizards' sanity.
"You're crazy man!" Alfred exclaimed examining the wall. We could all tell that he believed England but couldn't admit it to himself.
Who came up with the running into a wall to get to the train? Note to self: No trying to make sense of magic.
"This is crazy Artie, it's a wall." Alfred protested as the older country took a step forward.
"Will you feel better if I go first?" asked Arthur. Alfred looked at the wall and then to Arthur. He did this a few times before nodding. Arthur straightened and ran through the wall. I went next. Matthew came next. A few minutes passed before Alfred came over. I felt a brief stab of worry; it was going to be hard on Alfred if a charmed wall unsettled him so much.
I know I make fun of Arthur and the Magic Trio for believing in magic, but the truth is all nations have magic in them to use. Alfred is the only nation to flat out deny the existence of magic. Out of all the colonies you would think Alfred be one of the ones used to the idea. I'll ask about that as soon as we can talk without being overheard.
We boarded the train after storing our luggage. Alfred called his eagle before we were on the train. How the bird heard him was a mystery. We brought our pets with us mostly so Alfred's eagle wouldn't be so out of place.
America's POV
I was happy when Artie had said that it wouldn't be too conspicuous if Freedom came with me to Hogwarts. We've been together since he hatched and it wouldn't feel right to go a year without him. When Freedom flew into the station he made a beeline for his favorite perch; my shoulder.
"What took you so long?" Freedom asked, playfully nipping at my ear.
"Sorry." I chuckled and Freedom squawked in protest as my shoulders shook. I smoothly lept up the stairs to the Hogwarts express, mindful of my companion and followed Britain as he peered in each compartment and apparently finding them full.
We open up a door towards the end of the train car and found two boys sitting at the window seats talking. One who had red hair; the other has glasses and a lightning scar. I believe we found Harry. That was easy.
Arthur knocked politely on the doorframe to draw their attention. "Mind if we sit here?"
"Not at all." Answered the raven haired boy. The ginger boy moved to make room and sat next to the other boy.
I thought it best to introduce ourselves. "Hi! I'm Alfred, the one that looks like me is my twin brother Matthew, the one in bright blue clothes is Francis, and Arthur is the one with big eyebrows. Ouch! Artie what was that for?" He just grumbled under his breath. It was probably something like, 'no making fun of my eyebrows' or 'they aren't that big'.
"I'm Ron Weasley."
"I'm Harry Potter." Called it! "Sorry for pointing this out but you three don't sound like you're from England." I snorted, because boy, did that sound weird.
Francis answered for the three of us. "Oui. I'm from France, Alfred is from America, and Matthew is from Canada."
Ron frowned. "Then how can Alfred and Matthew be related if they are from different countries."
Luckily, my people are good at lying. Politics and Hollywood are at least good for something. "Our parents divorced when we were little. My mom got Mattie so he lived in Canada while I lived with our dad in America." Ron looked really sorry for asking that question. I quietly congratulated myself on my acting skills; my tone was perfect and I felt like I actually might have cried.
"Oh...uh...sorry."
"You didn't know. It's cool man."
A girl with bushy brown hair burst into the room interrupting any other conversation we might've had.
"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost one."
"Sorry. No." That is weird choice of pet to bring. As if he knew what I was thinking, Mattie elbowed me in the side and nodded in Freedom's direction. Point taken. I heard that some people have brought rats before. Less uncommon but still not a pet often seen. I hope it stays that way; Arthur and Francis won't react well if they see a rat. Not surprising seeing as they lived through the Black Death.
We introduced ourselves to her before she could rush off. When Harry said his name she started stating different tidbits she had picked up on him.
England's POV
I know she is a muggleborn but she is trying to hard to impress. Ron seemed to not care for her attitude at all. It is difficult to initially like someone many would call a know it all. Bored, Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out a plump gray rat. Francis and I reacted in a normal way; we ran out of there as fast as we could.
America's POV
"Why did they run away?" Ron asked perplexedly. Harry and Hermione had identical expressions of surprise and curiosity on their faces.
Matthew sighed. "They got a disease from a rat when they were young so..." He trailed off shrugging.
My brother and I went to look for them. I look but I didn't find them but I did find that pale kid. I felt the anger from before rise to the surface causing my face to flush and fists to clench. So, I did the mature thing; I punched his smug face as hard as I could without killing him or causing brain damage.
He looked up and eyes went wide he said, "How dare you hit me, Draco Malfoy." I'm still calling him pale kid. "You stupid Mudblood yank." He continued.
He is really asking me to kill him. I tackled him. I was beating him up when my brother, Arthur, and Francis finally managed to separate us. They were about to yell when it was announced to change into our robes. I was safe for now. At least, I can collect my thoughts.
England's POV
I found out that pale kid's name. It is Draco. I can't believe Alfred would attack him. He really did a number on that kid. I wonder why? He is not one for holding grudges. When he gets back, I will have a talk with him. And that damn rat had better be gone as well.