Bit of clarification here. You see the cover picture? Prussia's holding his sword in his right hand. Yeah… I drew that before I remembered that he's left-handed. Plus, I liked that picture and I didn't want to re-draw it. Mirroring the picture just made it look weird, especially since France's flag was already drawn on and that would have been mirrored too. Not to mention… That's France in the middle. He's transparent to reflect the fact that he's not part of the main cast. Gilbird was there, but since can only do 2x3, he got cut out.
The original summary was actually written like an actual recipe, but I changed it since it was too vague. The title came from the line, "That can only lead to disaster and hilarity," from "A Very Potter Musical", and the fact that I liked the recipe idea.
Dudley's gang is named in Sorcerer's Stone, but I may have missed a few.
Policy: I don't translate curse words.
In Which Harry Meets his New Neighbors
My spying activities were interrupted by a knock on the front door. Aunt Petunia had asked Ms. Number Three to tea earlier, so it was probably her. With a creak, the door opened and Ms. Number Three entered.
With nothing else to do, I cocked my head down to the floorboards. Eavesdropping wasn't one of my hobbies, but after three weeks of boredom…
"…And I'm sorry so about the horrid state of the neighborhood," Aunt Petunia's voice rang out shrilly. "My own nephew is a delinquent, and I saw that you were visited by a gang earlier… One of them dyed his hair white."
There was a sound like a chair moving backwards and someone standing up.
"Gilbert is my ex-husband's cousin," said a foreign female voice threateningly. Ms. Number Three was Hungarian? "But ve have known each other for years, and ve are very close."
"B-but he dyed his hair-"
"It's natural."
There was an awkward pause. Ms. Number Three sat down. "Zis delinquent nephew of yours… How do you know zat he is a delinquent?"
Aunt Petunia pursed her lips (or at least, I was sure that she was), and said stiffly, "I know what he gets up to."
No more was said on this subject, and Aunt Petunia ventured, "So, you married at your age? What was your ex-husband like, Ms. Héderváry?"
Ms. Héderváry paused, and said, "It vas an arranged marriage, but I don't regret it. I may have been conflicted ven I vas married, but… I love Roderich."
Aunt Petunia shifted, and said, "I have been happily married for almost twenty years," she said proudly.
"Yes, I've seen your son," said Ms. Héderváry. "He looks like an intelligent young man."
I stifled a laugh. Dudley? Intelligent? She must be blind.
"He certainly takes after you…Are you feeding him right? He looks like he's been starved for ze past few weeks…"
I almost choked as she realized that she was talking about me. I looked like Aunt Petunia? Then again, she was my mother's sister.
Aunt Petunia made a clucking noise. "That is my nephew, Harry. The delinquent. THIS is my son, Dudley. Duddy-kins!" she called.
Dudley rambled his way downstairs from the next room over. "Say hello to Ms. Héderváry," ordered Aunt Petunia.
"Hello," repeated Dudley dumbly. "I'm going out to—uh… tea, yes! Tea—with my friends right now."
I almost scoffed at the horribly transparent excuse that Dudley made. Tea?
"Hello, Dudley," said Ms. Héderváry. She could barely conceal the distaste in her voice. The door creaked open and shut, and Dudley's voice had vanished.
I could hear several other voices, including a harsh one speaking German and a lighter toned one speaking Spanish. Peering out the window, I could clearly see the new neighbors dragging their bags into the house and hear Ms. Héderváry at the same time. "That's Antonio on ze left," said Ms. Héderváry. "Antonio is Roderich's old friend; they've known each other for ages. They actually got married once, of course that was before I married Roderich."
"Wait, what was that?"
"Feliciano and Lovino are the brothers," Ms. Héderváry ploughed on. "Feli is the one whose eyes are closed. Zey are my little brothers, Peter is the little brother of a friend of mine; I'm looking after him for ze time being. He's ze vone vis ze hat."
"Who's that young lady?" said Aunt Petunia in sarcastic tones. I shifted my gaze towards the girl in the dress.
Ms. Héderváry barely concealed a giggle, and said, "Zat's Natalya, she's… ze sister of vone of my… former employers."
"Well, she looks respectable," said Aunt Petunia.
Ms. Héderváry tried not to giggle again.
"Are you… okay?" asked Aunt Petunia.
"I'm fine," said Ms. Héderváry.
The conversation from that point was, well… boring.
"I have to go help ze others move," Ms. Héderváry said once they finished. "Goodbye!"
"Goodbye," said Aunt Petunia.
Ms. Héderváry left, and Aunt Petunia muttered something about 'young women these days, playing at marriage as if it was some kind of game'.
Time to go have some tea of my own. I clamored downstairs into the kitchen, and set the kitchen up for tea. When I sat down to read the paper, I jumped up almost immediately. Instead of the cushions that I came to expect, there was an unfamiliar bag there. Unlike Aunt Petunia's dull red handbags, this was a messenger bag that was clearly loved. Embroidery stitched every inch of cloth, and the leather straps were polished to perfection. Was this Ms. Héderváry's bag?
Ms. Héderváry lived next door, didn't she? I could just catch her, and return her bag, couldn't I?
I hefted the bag up with difficulty. What did she have in there, frying pans? With two hands carrying the bag, I scuttled out the door.
By the time I walked the short distance from the Dursley's house to Number Three, I was already out of breath. Relief spun through my head as I knocked on the door, finally able to put the immensely heavy bag down.
Rather than the foreign woman I was expecting, the door was answered by a silver haired… man, for lack of a better word. He was older than me, so he was too old to be called a boy, but not old enough to be called a man. Gilbert, Ms. Héderváry's ex-husband's cousin, I remembered.
"Vot do you vant?" he asked in a thick yet easily understood German accent.
I grasped for the bag's handle. "Ms. Héderváry left this behind," I explained.
Gilbert stared at it. "Zis is Elizabeta's? Huh." He lifted it up and examined it, testing the weight. "She keeps frying pans in here, did you know zat? No vunder it's so heavy."
Coming from a guy who's holding it in one hand like it's nothing, I thought dryly.
Gilbert looked up at me. "So you are our next-door neighbor- oh, scheiße."
His eyes were red.
Just like Voldemort's…
For a split second, I was back in the graveyard-
"Harry, take my body back…Take it back to my parents…"
"Hold the connection!"
"HARRY POTTER!"
SLAP!
The next thing I knew, I was lying spread-eagled on the ground, my face pounding and my skull aching.
"Sorry," said Gilbert. "You looking like you vere freaking out, so… I hit you." He knelt down and helped me up. "It vas my eyes, vasn't it?"
"S-sorry…" I said.
"It's okay," he said offhandedly. "Trust me, your reaction vasn't ze vurst I have seen. Somevone vonce tried to drive a stake through my heart… AND since I vorked at ze only hospital in ze area at ze time, I had to set his bones and bandage him and give him mouth-to-mouth."
Gilbert did all that to someone? Not just help him recover, but beat him up to that extent?
"Hey, calm down, kid," Gilbert said. "I'm too awesome to pick a fight for no reason. Unlike zat stupid boy who's trying to mug Peter… By ze vay, vot's your name?"
"Harry. Harry Potter," I said. Why did I say my full name? Was it in the hope that this guy, who didn't react to my scar, was a wizard?
"Gilbert Beilschmidt. I come from Germany."
He grabbed my arm and dragged me inside.
"H-hey, wait!" I said, but Gilbert ignored me.
"Trust me, it'll be awesome. Just not as awesome as I am."
That was a strange comment… I never had time to notice, but the layout of all the houses on Privet Drive were exactly the same, just like the cookie-cutter outsides. I had been handed over to Mrs. Figg's house when I was younger, but her house was so filled with cats and tapestries that I couldn't see the actual layout. Gilbert led me to where my bedroom would have been, and opened the door.
"Apaga las luces…" complained a muffled voice. It was coming from the bed. (Turn out the lights…)
Without even acknowledging the voice, Gilbert hit the light switch. "Vot did you do to get zis tired, Antonio?" he said lazily, yet good-naturedly. "I vas ze vone who cleaned ze whole room."
There was a yawn, and a sleepy…boy, for lack of a better word, sat up, the sheets sliding off of him. "That was only because you didn't let me touch anything…" he said in a Spanish accent. "You and your neat-freak habits…"
"I just like to stay clean!" snapped Gilbert, but he was grinning.
I glanced around the room. 'Clean'? More like polished… or military-regulation. That's the word. The only thing left ruffled was the bed, and that was because Antonio was sleeping in it.
"Anyvay, take a look at zis!" Gilbert pointed at a faraway spot. I had to squint to see. Gilbert handed me a pair of binoculars. "Vith your eyes, you probably can't see zat vell," he explained. "You're nearsighted, aren't you? I can tell by ze shape of your glasses."
I peered at the spot where he was pointing. As he said, Dudley was cornering yet another boy. I recognized him as the boy who came with Gilbert. "Zat's Peter. Vait for it…"
Peter said something, and kicked Dudley in the groin. And punched Malcolm in the face. Then threw Piers over his shoulder.
Gilbert was laughing. "See? I told you… Kesese!"
I stared at him openmouthed.
Gilbert slapped me hard on the back. "Lighten up! He deserved it, didn't he? You know as vell as I do."
I didn't say anything. After all, I DID curse Malfoy several times… but still, I was slightly disgusted at Gilbert's reaction.
Gilbert must have caught my expression, because he said, "You don't like it? Good. Zat means zat you're not a maniac."
"And you're not?" I caught myself saying before I could stop myself.
Gilbert shrugged. "I'm not denying it."
"Gilbert's… not exactly what you'd call normal," said Antonio sleepily. He rubbed his eyes. "He gets into fights a lot, and I don't think that he's really all that worried about people getting beaten up. What he thinks is normal isn't necessarily normal…"
Gilbert took this in good grace, and said, "Says ze homicidal maniac."
"Says the religious fanatic."
"Says the two idiots," said a disdainful girl standing in the doorway. Natalya, I remembered just in time. Natalya glared at Gilbert and Antonio, almost exactly like Professor MacGonagall when she got shirty with Wood. However, Gilbert and Antonio were quite nonplussed, so Natalya relented and sighed. "Look, you two already cleaned your room- no, you cleaned your room," she added to Gilbert, who shrugged. "But we've got to go out shopping, so what do you want? AND NO BEER! I can't buy it legally here."
Gilbert shrugged, as if that last comment was directed towards him. He then rattled off a list of what sounded like grocery items to her in German, which Antonio added some Spanish to.
Natalya shrugged irritably, and spun around on her heel. "If you want that much, then it's going to come out of your pocket," she muttered.
"Vot vas zat?!" Gilbert shouted.
"You really think that I can pay for all that with the econ—money I have now?" she retorted. "And Antonio can't spare any. Elizabeta isn't here, Feliciano and Lovino run off at the sight of me, and Peter doesn't have enough. By process of elimination, you're the only one who's left. You got some from your brother back when the two of you reunited, didn't you?"
Gilbert opened his mouth to retort, but bit back his response.
"Don't worry about me paying you back, the groceries are your money in a different form," said Natalya.
What… strange logic… and yet somehow plausible, I thought.
"Oh, and if you try to try to get your money back by stealing from my wallet," Natalya added just before she left. "I'll rip your гробаны penis off."
That threat was enough to make Gilbert back down. I had no idea what гробаны meant, but it didn't really matter judging by the rest of that statement.
Either way, I was sure of one thing. Natalya was bloody mental. Ron would definitely have said that if he were here… I miss Ron. And Hermione. Even if they're not telling me anything…
"Vot's the matter, kid?" Gilbert asked. "You look upset. Someting get you down?"
"It's nothing," I said.
Gilbert shrugged. "Suit yourself…"
X
The next day, I went to the park to kill time. Surprisingly enough, everyone who lived at number three was there. Gilbert, Antonio, Natalya… I knew what Peter, Feliciano, and Lovino looked like from a distance, but I had never seen the young woman chatting with Feliciano in what sounded like Hungarian.
As I drew closer, she turned around and smiled. "So you are ze vone who brought my bag back, vos it?" she asked. That must have been Ms. Héderváry, I knew her voice from her tea with Aunt Petunia. "Köszönöm szépen!"
"That means, 'thank you so much'," said Gilbert.
"Y-you're welcome, Ms. Héderváry," I said, slightly embarrassed. Even if she was a few decades younger, she still reminded me of Mrs. Weasley.
Ms. Héderváry shrugged, and said, "I'm not zat much older zan you, you can call me Elizabeta."
I was shocked at this display of… well, familiarity. I had never known a single non-family adult who I didn't go to school with—and even then some—whom I knew on a first-name basis. Well, except Sirius. But he was family, too. "H-hello then, E-Elizabeta."
Gilbert nudged her. "Oi, I sink you've stepped over some kind of boundary. Come to sink of it, you've never actually been introduced to any of us. Except for ze-"
"Don't say it," groaned Elizabeta, but Gilbert continued.
"Awesome me."
What was with this guy? He's just like Malfoy-
No, he's not like Malfoy. Admittedly, they are both pale, have a slightly drawling voice, and like watching unpleasant things happening to people, but… Gilbert treats his friend like a friend, not a bodyguard.
Yes, he is arrogant, but it's not because his father's rich or he's pure-blood or anything. I don't know the reason why, but whatever the reason is, he's justified. He thinks he's better than everyone else because he is.
No, wait. That's not it either. He doesn't think he's better than everybody else, he just thinks that he's… awesome.
Gilbert is Gilbert. That's all.
"Say, we never got to hear your name this whole time," said Antonio, breaking me from my thoughts. "I'm Antonio, by the way. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo."
"Harry. Harry Potter," I said.
Natalya turned around and said, "Natalya Arlovskaya."
Ar-what now? "Ar-ov-skya?" I attempted.
She shrugged. "Close enough for someone who's never seen it written down. Just call me Natalya; it'll be easier on all of us."
"I'm Peter Kirkland," said Peter.
"Ve~ I'm Feliciano!" said Feliciano. "My last name is Vargas~ oh, you can call me Feli if you want-"
"SHUT UP!" said the last one. Lovino, I thought. Feliciano cowed behind him, and Lovino '"muttered, "The name's Lovino, and do NOT call me Lovi! I'm this idiota's older brother."
"Ve~ but we're twins," said Feli.
"Older twin brother, then," said Lovino.
They said this as if they were settling something.
Natalya spotted my expression and said, "He's always like this. Don't worry; he's all bark and no bite. He won't hurt anyone."
Antonio put his arm around Lovino, who threw him over his shoulder.
"Except Antonio, who loves him," added Natalya.
"Ve, you shouldn't have done that…" said Feliciano. Lovino glared at him, and Feli shrank back.
"And Feliciano, who's his brother. But neither of them really fight back."
Ah. So that's what it was. Lovino was a bully. One who never got yelled at, or punished, maybe even encouraged. Just like Dudley.
Little did I know how wrong I was.
X
Over the week, I got to know my new neighbors pretty well.
At least, everyone except for Lovino. My opinion of him didn't change for a long time. Until that night… I'll get to that later.
Feliciano and Antonio were so nice to me that it was almost embarrassing, but they were such good people that I couldn't say it. Feliciano seemed way too childish for someone older than I was, and Antonio seemed just like him except more mature. But sometimes, he wouldn't come out of the house for days at a time. I didn't know why for the longest time.
Natalya was always angry, cold, or gloomy, but she treated me well enough. She didn't seem to like me very much, or dislike me, but if I had a question she would answer it.
Gilbert was an eternal paradox, not only in my eyes, but in Uncle Vernon's, too. To Uncle Vernon, he was the very picture of delinquency. He had white hair and red eyes (which he claimed was natural), swore a lot, ran around with Antonio, and generally looked bad. But whenever Uncle Vernon came over to complain, Gilbert would be there, cleaning the house so well that it put Aunt Petunia to shame. Or ironing, or mowing the lawn, or whatever he did. And just when Uncle Vernon finally admitted that maybe he had been wrong during dinner one night, a wrench flew in through the dining room window and landed in Uncle Vernon's pudding. A little while later Gilbert arrived asking for it back.
Peter… despite being a happy kid, he always gave the impression that he knew more than he let on. When we met face-to-face for the second time, he stared at my scar for a second, much longer than what most Muggles did. When I asked him, he said it was nothing. Still, I heard something about blowing up my aunt…
Elizabeta invited me over to tea every so often, where I saw all the others. But, it was mainly Elizabeta who spoke.
Sometimes she'd talk about her ex-husband, Roderich. She spoke happily of him, ever enthusiastic. She never seemed to have a picture on her, but I had a good idea of him. Elizabeta and Roderich were just like a high school couple from a movie. Roderich was a shy, bullied kid who had a crush on Elizabeta, the girl out of his league. Somehow true love prevailed, and… That's what it seemed like.
Even when Elizabeta was out doing whatever, I saw the others in the park playing football (not the American kind) or just chatting in German or Spanish or Italian or Belorussian, whatever they spoke. It was on these occasions that Dudley found out what a bad idea it was to mess with them.
After Peter, they picked out the one who seemed like the next weakest: Natalya.
Unfortunately, Natalya was, as some people put it, a nutjob.
Ron would call her 'bloody mental'.
When Dudley and his gang tried to mug her, she pulled a knife on them. It wasn't a kitchen knife, or even a pocketknife. It was a hunting knife, just a few centimeters longer than my wand. Dennis was the only one stupid enough not to be afraid, and tried to grab it off of her, thinking that she wouldn't know how to use it.
Natalya did. Within a split second, Dennis was on the ground, cut in several places and with the heavy knife at his neck. I had to admit, Dudley wasn't a coward. He shouted at Natalya to let his friend go.
She shouted that if he wanted his friend to still be able to consider himself a man, he wouldn't take another step. He didn't. Slowly, she slid the knife away from Dennis's neck, and sheathed it somewhere on her person. She then got to her feet, and gave one last threat before walking off. She said that if they came after her one more time; then they'd live their lives forever castrated.
Needless to say, they ran off screaming.
I wasn't present for the time they tried to jump Elizabeta, but Dudley later told us at the dinner table that he had a boxing match with her. Surprisingly enough, that was the exact same story Elizabeta fed me the next day. When I asked her who won, she said that it didn't matter because she taught Dudley a lesson. I asked her what it was. She smiled, and said that it was one that he wouldn't forget in a hurry.
The next time they came, they went after Antonio and Gilbert. I wasn't sure why they went after the two biggest guys; but the second Dudley grunted a threat, all of his gang was lying on the ground, groaning. Gilbert stood in the middle with his hands on his hips, and asked, "Haf you learned your lesson today? You haf? Gut."
Dudley managed to get back up somehow. He scuttled his way to Gordon and dragged him back up. Piers got to his feet quickly and hefted up Malcolm, who slapped Dennis awake.
"But maybe you might need a little reteach…" Gilbert leered.
They scampered, screaming.
Antonio didn't do anything, I noticed. "Hey, Gilbert? Wasn't that a little much?" he asked.
Gilbert shrugged. "At least zey vill know better zan to mess vith people, now."
Antonio laughed. "Hah… you never change, do y- HAAACCK!"
His sigh became a sputtering cough. Antonio fell to his knees, choking.
"Antonio!" Gilbert knelt down at his friend's side. "Not again…" he moaned.
"What's wrong?!" I ran over to where they were and squatted down.
"It's nothing, don't worry about it," Gilbert said urgently. His flippant words were ill-suited to his tone; he would have been better served if he shouted, 'You're useless here, you can't do anything!'
"No otra vez …" Antonio managed to spit between spasms. (Not again…)
"Halt den Mund! You're coughing up blood here, don't even sink about talking!" Gilbert barked. (Shut up!)
"What's going on?!" I shouted.
"Tell you later, you can't do anysing about it!" Gilbert examined Antonio, for a moment becoming chillily calm.
And then he plunged his fist directly into Antonio's stomach.
"Guh…"
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" I screeched.
"Calm down, I only knocked him out, he'll wake up in a few hours," said Gilbert.
"Isn't there anything I can do to help?" I asked lamely. I had a vague idea on how to make a potion for blood thinning, but aspirin did a better job.
He looked up straight at me. "Votever you do, do not call an ambulance! Zey do not know vot to do vith him."
Gilbert lifted the limp Antonio up bridal-style. "I'm going to treat him at our place. If anyone asks… make something up!"
He trotted off, his friend lying still in his arms. [1]
X
The next day, I went straight next door after breakfast. Feliciano answered the door and silently led me up to Gilbert and Antonio's room. Shakily, he opened the door.
Antonio was still unconscious. He lay on the bed, looking like he was just sleeping…
Lovino was sitting on a chair next to him, uncharacteristically gloomy. He didn't even utter a word of protest as his brother sat next to him. He even made room for him.
"Ve… Big Brother… he's been like this before… But never like this…" said Feli.
"But Gilbert said he'd be awake in a few hours yesterday, didn't he?" I asked wretchedly. "I mean, he should be all right by now…"
"He isn't," said Lovino bitterly. "Vital Regions Jerk came here yesterday with Tomato Jerk in his arms like they were married… He said that he had another attack; he had to knock him out to stop the bleeding… He hasn't woken up since."
I lowered my head. Just like Hermione, I thought. I could remember her bleached-pale face clearly, her icy skin, her blank stare…
"You two still worried about that guy?" Natalya interrupted.
Lovino glared at her, but didn't speak.
She shrugged. "You'll see what I mean."
She apathetically marched downstairs. A moment later, I heard the sizzling of cooking sausages.
Lovino's already depressed face turned sourer. "Odio salsicce," he said. (I hate sausages)
"No te preocupes por eso, tenemos un montón de tomates." (Don't worry about that, we have plenty of tomatoes.)
"Like that makes a difference, sausages… are…" Lovino trembled off.
"V-ve?!"
"Tomato Jerk!?"
I whirled around. Antonio was sitting up in his bed, yawning. "Ah… that was a good nap… how long have I been ou-GKK! Y-YOU'RE CHOKING M-"
"FOURTEEN HOURS! YOU'VE BEEN OUT FOR FOURTEEN HOURS! YOU-" Lovino erupted into rapid Italian that I was completely unable to follow.
"Smettila!" Feli screamed (Stop it!). "You're choking him~! STOOO~~P!"
"LIKE HELL I WILL!"
Feliciano ducked down and grabbed his brother by the waist. "HUG THERAPY~!"
"LET ME GO!"
"Ve! Not until you calm down~!"
"You-"
"Hahhahaha!" Someone put his arm over my shoulder from behind. I turned around. It was Gilbert. "Hah… Trust me, you'll never understand those two."
"And you do?" I asked dryly.
"Nope, I just understand that I'll never understand them."
"That doesn't make any sense!" said Peter from behind.
"Trust me, you'll get it when you're older," Gilbert said offhandedly.
Well, I did. Like you're one to talk, Mr. Eternal Paradox! I have long given up on trying to understand you… I understood you even less than Feliciano and Lovino.
And then Lovino calmed down and finally apologized (through gritted teeth, even though he was blushing) to Antonio, and Antonio accepted and said he was cute and hugged him around the waist. Lovino turned as red as a tomato and slapped him, but was still blushing.
Ah… this somehow reminded me of Hogwarts… I wanted to go back, right then and there. I would have forgiven everyone, even Snape and Malfoy. Heck, I would even kiss Malfoy if I could… wait, no, not that far. Ron, maybe. Maybe. Hermione would be violating.
Little did I know that these peaceful days would come to an end much quicker than I imagined.
X (? POV)
I walked down the castle corridor next to Austria, smiling. "Ah… we got the jobs…" I said.
Austria shrugged. "As long as I get mein piano, I am fine. By ze vay, vy did you vant a job here?"
I stopped. "Austria… do you know about Spurgos?"
"Nein, I haf never heard zat name before. Vot is it?"
"A couple hundred years ago, a man named Spurgos declared himself a Dark Lord, right here in Britain."
"Spurgos… Zat means 'jelly donut' in your language, doesn't it?"
I nodded. "It was a stupid name. But he was powerful. He actually spread his followers from here to my house… it was terrible. All of us in my house fought him. England apologized later, but I knew that we couldn't sit still the next time a Dark Lord rose, so we agreed that if another Dark Lord rises, then we'd help one another."
"Hm," said Austria.
"But why have you become a teacher?" I asked back.
"I vanted to show off my knowledge of music, and vere better zan in a classroom?" he replied. "I think we shocked zat man back zere. Snape, ja?"
"Taip." I sighed. "But, he seemed to recover… maybe he met England, or one of us before."
FLASHBACK (Snape POV)
"My name is Republik Österreich," said the man with glasses. "But you haf to call me Roderich Edelstein."
I stared, but recovered. "Previous employment?" I asked levelly.
"I am an anthropomorphic personification of the country known as Austria," he said simply. "I used to run ze Holy Roman Empire. I also have played ze piano for hundreds of years."
"Any talents?"
"Music."
"Any interests?"
"Music."
"Any hobbies?"
"Music."
"Are you afflicted with any condition?"
"I get lost a lot. Got a problem?"
"No, not really… Are you married?"
"I vas, vonce… to Hungary."
"How old are you?"
Roderich counted. "About nine hundred, I'd say."
"Thank you, now, what about you?"
The tall one opened his mouth to answer…
FLASHBACK END
Now, if I didn't meet England in a pub all these years ago, I would never have believed them.
That reminds me…
I chased after the pair, and just barely caught them at the Greenhouses. "Vot do you vant?" asked Roderich.
"The Headmaster wants me to ask you if you could do something for him?"
"What is it?" asked the tall one, I couldn't remember his name.
"He wants you to go to this location." I handed them the paper with the location written on it- folded, to prevent them from seeing it before they accepted.
Roderich eyed me suspiciously. "Vill I be able to have a piano at zis location?"
"Probably not. It hasn't been cleaned in decades."
At my words, the taller man straightened up. "I'm good at cleaning, if that's what you need…"
Good at cleaning? Well, he did say that he used to be a- never mind. "In that case, here." I handed him the paper.
He unfolded it. "What's the-"
"Never mind, I'll tell you later."
"Will they mind if I have a dog?" he asked.
"You have… a dog?"
"Er… yes…"
"I do not think that they will mind." Inwardly, I smiled at the thought of Sirius having to deal with another dog in the house.
He let of a sigh of relief. "Good…"
"Have you unpacked?" I asked.
"No, not yet… I wasn't sure if I was going to get the job in the first place, remember?"
"Then there will be no need to pack. You will leave at dawn tomorrow."
The tall man nodded. "Yes sir."
What was with this man? He seemed almost subservient…
Little did I know what he could be like.
TO BE CONTINUED!
[1] Spain's condition- he's suffering from his economy. It's currently '95, so the economy is horrible.
Who is this mysterious figure (hint: not an OC!)? What does Harry mean by 'peaceful days coming to an end'? And what does he mean by he'd be happy to kiss Ron if it means going back to Hogwarts?