Unless previously stated, all events in Harry Potter are canon. So the letter about the trial was read off-screen.

I read about the Polish national anthem… it was written after Poland was fully partitioned… it said that the writer said that even if the nation is partitioned, even if the people are ruled by another, even if they are subjected, the nation shall live as long as the people still have their spirit. Poland…

Letters, shopping, and Lithuania (Harry POV)

Professor Laurinaitis took a sip of cocoa.

"Muggle Studies has become mandatory for all students whose parents were both wizards," he said. "So I'll be seeing you for classes soon enough."

I stared in horror. "Muggle Studies? But I've lived with Muggles my whole life!"

Professor Laurinaitis sighed. "I have no idea vhy zey vould do zat…"

"They're doing it so that wizarding children won't be completely ignorant about Muggles," said Lupin.

Moody eyed Professor Laurinaitis suspiciously. "How can we know that you're not working for You-Know-Who?"

"Who?"

"You-Know-Who!"

"No, I don't know who!"

"He means Voldemort," I said as everyone else flinched.

"Oh," said Professor Laurinaitis relatively nonchalantly. "To answer your question, no, you don't have any proof that I'm not working for him."

Before Moody could hex him, he added hurriedly, "But you don't have any proof that I am working for him, either…" he said faintly.

"Hm," grunted Moody and he strode off.

"Don't worry," said Lupin. "He doesn't really trust anyone."

Professor Laurinaitis sighed. "At least he's not trying to kill me…"

Tonks shifted unsteadily. "But that doesn't account for trying."

Professor Laurinaitis sighed heavily, and took another sip of cocoa. "Ah… if he were trying, then…" he gulped, "that would be another person to add to the list of people who tried to kill me…"

Naturally, this earned plenty of stares. Professor Laurinaitis blushed, and quickly became interested in his dog again.

"Laurinaitis!" snapped Moody. Professor Laurinaitis stiffened to attention. "Do something about your dog. You really need to housetrain him."

I looked down. Mindaugas was peeing on Professor Laurinaitis's leg. "Sorry…" he said guiltily, and he knelt to clean up the mess.

Kingsley Shacklebolt yawned. "It's late. We had better get to bed. You too, Harry."

There were murmurs of agreement. Lupin was the first to go upstairs, and everyone else followed.

Professor Laurinaitis got up from the floor. "Oh? You're not going to bed?"

I steadily stood up. Professor Laurinaitis sighed. "Harry… is it okay if I call you Harry?"

I nodded. "Harry, I'll ask Professor MacGonagall to get you out of Muggle Studies when she comes by tomorrow. In the meantime… please get some sleep. Your bedroom is upstairs, second room on the left. Oh and…"

His expression turned bleak. "I know what it feels like to work without sleeping, so…" he deadpanned.

I took the hint and made my way upstairs.

"Laikykis," he said. (Hold on). I turned around. "Your friend is sleeping in your room. I-I don't think that it's a good idea to vake him up…"

I nodded, and climbed the stairs. I wouldn't have found my room if he hadn't told me.

When I opened the door, I had a moment to notice that Ron and Hermione were in the room before Hermione threw herself onto me.

"Harry!" she shouted. "Harry, I'm so sorry, we really should have told you-"

I took in a deep breath and prepared to yell.

X (Prussia POV)

"All right, everyone," I said in German the next morning. Hungary had made us breakfast, which only me, Sealand, and Belarus actually ate. Italy and Romano had made their own food, and Spain was still out. "I have something to say."

Romano glared at me from his tomatoes. "The hell you talking about, Vital Regions Jerk?"

"Shut up," I said. "Remember what happened last night?"

"Ve… how could we forget?" Italy murmured.

"Ja. Vell… I got England to enroll all of us in Hogwarts."

Everyone stared at me. "You… what?" Belarus asked uncertainly.

"All of us are enrolled at Hogwarts. Harry's school."

There was a pause.

"You're telling us," Romano said at last, "that we are going to school."

"A wizard's school," I added. "Everyone except for you, Hungary."

"Am I too old to pass for a student?" asked Hungary. When I nodded, she shrugged. "It's only natural. You're the one who have been turned into kids again, not me."

"So why are we doing this, exactly?" Romano asked. He slammed his hands on the table. "YOU JUST COME IN AND TELL US THAT WE'RE GOING TO SCHOOL!? SCHOOL, OF ALL PLACES?! NONE OF US HAVE EVER BEEN TO ANY SCHOOL, AND YOU WANT US TO ACT LIKE STUDENTS?! ARE YOU INSANE, VITAL REGIONS JERK!? WE MIGHT NOT AGE! THEY'LL NOTICE!"

I put my chin on my palm and my elbow on the table. "It's about Harry."

"What about him?" Romano was on the verge of throwing tomatoes at me. I tried to diffuse the situation.

"Are you really going to leave him after what happened to him?" I asked. "Think. Last night England told me that someone sent those Dementors after him."

"He said that?" said Sealand skeptically.

"Well… no, he implied it, but that's close enough for him."

"Someone sending Dementors after someone…" Romano repeated. And shuddered. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Ve…"

"Jerk-England said that Dementors guard Azkaban- our wizard prison here," said Sealand gloomily. "He went there once. The minute he got back he told me never to go there, ever. That was the first time I remember him really crying."

Romano looked down. "I take back what I said. Anyone who has an enemy who would send those…things after him is worth protecting."

Sealand thought for a moment. "Wait… I thought that Jerk-England didn't know the Headmaster… so how did he get you to transfer? Come to think of it, how did he get me in there in the first place?"

Across the Scottish border, inside of a castle, and inside the dungeon, a certain Potions Master sneezed. "Stupid England," he muttered. "Making me force MacGonagall to accept transfer students. AND enroll an extra first year. AND get four more people teaching jobs."

There was silence. "So… we are going to Hogwarts, then," Romano said quietly. "Will Spain be okay to…?"

There was a pause. "England said that he was looking up the spell," I said.

Romano relaxed.

"That jerk may not be able to undo his own curses, but he can break anyone else's," said Sealand.

"Ve…? So he's going to be all right?" asked Italy.

I nodded. "He will be. I've never seen England fail to break a magical coma."

There was a groan from upstairs. "Ugh… shut up, everyone… shut up…" murmured Spain's soft voice in Spanish.

CRASH! "Agh… A little help here?"

Spain had fallen down the stairs. I went on and helped him up. "Gracias," he said.

Suddenly, his expression hardened. "Prussia," he said. "You looking down on me?"

"…Nein?" I said, confused.

"You see me lying on the ground, and you say you don't look down on me?"

"Okay, this is getting a little weird."

"DIIEIEEEE!"

I dodged his axe by a hair's breadth. "C-The hell's wrong with you!?"

"QUIT IT! DI-"

Spain's expression changed more suddenly than Austria back when his piano got taken away from him. "S-stop it!"

Whatever had happened, it was over in a moment.

"Sorry about that!" Spain said cheerfully.

"Wait, what?"

"Who cooked breakfast?"

He stumbled his way to the table. "Ah, Romano~!"

"G-get off of me, you jerk!" Romano yelped as Spain hugged and cuddled against him.

"Aw, but you're so-"

"What happened?" I asked somberly.

Spain turned around and nodded sheepishly. "I… kind of found out what that spell did to me last night…"

"And?"

"Now I have split personalities…"

Split… personalities? "When you say split personalities… What exactly do you mean?"

Spain paused. "Conquistador says that they're my past selves along with bits of my personality as a nation…"

"Conquistador?" Hungary repeated.

"Ah, I call them by what they- I mean, I- was-were-am-"

"Spit it out, Tomato Jerk!"

"You're saying that you call your split personalities by a one-word description?" I clarified.

"Si!"

"And they personify certain parts of your culture as a nation or your past selves," I added.

"Exactly!"

"So who was it that tried to attack me?"

Spain shrugged. "I think it was the personification of my rage; I'm pretty sure that it was Gunner."

"They're Split Personality Clones," realized Hungary.

"And that means what, exactly?" Romano grumbled.

"It's like this," I explained. "Each of his split personalities takes up one aspect of his personality as a whole in addition to being his past self or culture."

Sealand was confused. "Wait, what?"

"Let's put it like this," I said. "Each of Spain's split personalities are, well, his personality when split. For example, Spain may have a persona that is his anger, his innocence, or even his maturity or envy."

Sealand was still confused. "I get that, but what was the part about his past selves and culture?"

"Spain, you have a Conquistador one, right?" When he nodded, I pressed, "What's he like?"

Spain looked up. "Well… he keeps everyone in line, and he's rational, and even though he smiles all the time sometimes he really wants to kill everyone."

"There," I said to Sealand. "So his personality is split, right?" Sealand nodded. "In addition to being that, they are at the same time his past selves. Or culture."

"For example?"

"Fencer is a stickler for rules," Spain said without missing a beat. "Dancer is my passion. Bullfighter is fearless. Grandma is-"

"You have a Grandma one?" Belarus asked incredulously.

"Si. She's really nice; do you want to talk to her?"

"Wait. Can they… take over?" Romano asked nervously.

Spain smiled. "Only if I let them! That is, except when I faint… Oh, and I think that Inquisitor can get out sometimes!"

The temperature dropped a few degrees. "Did you just say…? Inquisitor?"

Spain's smile faded. "I know… I remember being Inquisitor… Back then, I was the worst I ever was…"

I put my arm around his shoulder. "I know."

There was a brief acknowledgement from everyone around the table. "Of course," said Hungary solemnly.

"But… Inquisitor…" Italy said nervously. "Will it be… safe?"

Spain nodded. "I hated myself from back then. All of my split personalities do, too. Inquisitor is currently under the psychic equivalent of being chained up in an iron maiden with plutonium spikes reinforced with diamond-hard carbon inside of a meter-thick steel box surrounded on all sides by lava which is in turn surrounded by freezing water."

"And… you know this how, exactly?" I asked.

"I put them there. Hey, it's my mind!"

"And I know your imagination…" Romano added.

Spain sighed. "But I get the feeling that he can slip out for one second…"

"So~o… What are we going to do about this?" I asked.

Spain shrugged. "Don't worry. Everyone else swore to keep him under control if he breaks out."

"Gut," I said.

Romano looked at me. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Oh, right. "Hey, Spain. We're going to Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts? What, that wizard's school?"

"Harry goes there."

I explained the situation to him, and he nodded. "Scientist had calculated a 68.8924% chance of this happening," he said. "So, how soon do you think that they'll find us?"

There was a scuttling noise. "That's the owl," said Sealand. "I'll get it."

A moment later, Sealand emerged with an owl perched on his right shoulder, holding a bundle of letters. "Here."

I picked one up and read it. "So… basically, this is our letter that's saying that we are going to Hogwarts." I skimmed another one. "They're all the same."

Sealand read another one. "It says that someone is coming over here soon to take us shopping for school supplies."

There was a knock on the door. We all tried hard not to look at each other.

"I'll get it," said Spain.

"You had better get off of me first," grumbled Romano.

We all looked at Romano, and realized for the first time that Spain had been hugging him the whole time. Spain reluctantly let go and left the kitchen.

A moment later he walked back in with a severe-looking old lady in tow. She carried herself like an old-fashioned school teacher. "I am Professor MacGonagall, Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts. I am here to inform you that-"

"VEE! SPIDER!"

A spider dropped onto Italy's head, and he began to scream and flail around.

"SPIDEEERR!"

"Che," Romano grabbed his brother by the collar-

The spider jumped from Italy to him, making him scream like a little girl. "GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!"

THUNK. In a flash, Spain whipped his axe around and cut the spider in two. Unfortunately, that also meant that the axe was embedded in the table, too.

Uh-oh… Hungary had started to grip her frying pan a little too tightly…

"So, uh… Professor MacGonagall, vas it?" I said before anything could happen. "Vould you mind explaining just vot zis letter is about?"

Professor MacGonagall was not amused by our antics, but she pursed her lips and said, "Very well, then. Magic exists. You are wizards and witches."

Our reaction wasn't anything special. It was a while before one of us remembered that we weren't supposed to know about magic beforehand. "OMG like SRSLY?!"

Maybe I should have gone in before Italy. "Look, if you say zat ve are vizards, zen you haf to at least give us some evidence."

"Very well then." Professor MacGonagall drew a wand from her sleeve and flicked it. The table transformed into a hippopotamus.

"GRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYAAAA!" It roared, suffering from the axe permanently affixed into its back.

"Whoops," I said, half grinning.

Professor MacGonagall flicked her wand once more and the hippopotamus was a table once more. Spain withdrew his axe, which disappeared into his own personal hammerspace. "Now that that is settled, do you believe me now?"

"Ja," I said. "So, zis school is for teaching vizards und vitches, zen…"

"Precisely. Now, I was sent here not only to inform you of your… magic, but also to help you get your school supplies."

"Ve? Why can't we just go out and get them ourselves?" asked Italy.

"Idiota!" Romano barked. "Where do you think that we could GET all these things?"

"The… black market?"

"May I speak?" asked Professor MacGonagall.

"You may," said Romano in that tone he only used with women.

"You can find your school supplies in Diagon Alley, where I will be taking you."

There were general nods. "Now then, who here is able to drive? I cannot take you to Diagon Alley the same way that I came here."

Everyone turned to look at me. "Fine," I said. "My car can hold all of us. Now, vere is zis Diagon Alley?"

"London. Now, if you could please take us to Charing Cross Road. We can walk from there."

I nodded, and we all piled into my car. "So, uh… vere is Charing Cross Road?"

Professor MacGonagall handed me a map. "Just go to Trafalgar Square, and we can walk from there." [1]

The trip to London was kind of awkward. My car could seat eight people (two seats in front and two rows of three behind), but that didn't seem to be enough space for Italy and Romano, since they had to keep on moving their arms and legs. Sealand had demanded window seat at once, but I vetoed that since he was the smallest he could be wedged between both Italies. He was slightly put out, but I gave him a berliner (a jelly doughnut, not a resident of Berlin) to keep him quiet. No one wanted to sit next to Belarus, and she didn't want to sit next to me, so Hungary finally decided to sit between her and Spain. Spain was still talking to himself under his breath. Professor MacGonagall asked him if he needed to use the bathroom. Twice. And no one disputed Professor MacGonagall's right to sit shotgun.

When we finally got to Trafalgar Square, Spain was slightly upset at the fact that we just HAD to park my car near what happened to be a memorial to one of his and France's defeats. When I told him to lighten up, he yelled at me and said that France was my friend, too.

And when Belarus told him to shut up, he complied.

Professor MacGonagall led us through Charing Cross Road, past several bookshops and record stores, until we finally came to a pub. "Through here," she said.

The pub was, by my standards, not very good. It wasn't clean enough for my tastes, the food was, well, England's, and it was too small for such a popular place. And the beer…

I wasted no time in ordering a beer. The barkeeper looked at me skeptically and asked for ID, and to see payment first. I asked him the price.

"Three Sickles, please."

Sickles? I was sure that I had at least a few in there… They were a couple centuries old, but they would do.

I handed him my (falsified) driver's license and three Sickles that were made back when Denmark was still a religious fanatic. After I took a sip of the beer (not as good as the ones at my house, but it was better than the watery stuff in the Dursley's house), Professor MacGonagall tapped me on the shoulder. "You do realize that we are here to shop, not drink."

I nodded. "Ja. But… how much vould our school supplies cost? I only haf a few Sickles left…" I turned desperately to Sealand.

Sealand shrugged. "I only have a Galleon, a Sickle, and a Knut. I collect them more than I actually use them…"

"Don't look at me," Belarus muttered.

"I can't spare any…" said Spain before having another internal conversation.

Hungary shook her head.

"If I had any, then I wouldn't give them to you," Romano spat.

"Ve… I left my money at home…"

"That is fine," said Professor MacGonagall. "At Hogwarts, there is a bank account for Muggle-borns. You don't have to worry."

"Gut," I said.

"Ve? But… where is Diagon Alley?"

"Behind the wall in the courtyard," Sealand answered promptly. "Tap the brick that is three up and two across from the left, and it will open."

Professor MacGonagall looked at him with suspicion. "And how do you know this, Mr…"

"Kirkland," said Sealand. "My brother used to come here a lot. I followed him here once… My bum hurt for days."

There was a collective shudder from Italy and Romano. "Ve… your brother…"

"…"

"Never mind," said Hungary, and she quickly added, "So, can you show us vere ve can buy zis sings?"

Professor MacGonagall said stiffly, "That is what I am here for."

Despite her tones, it was clear that she approved of Hungary; at least more than the rest of us. I caught her staring at my hair several times. "Vot?"

She pursed her lips. "If you do not know magic, then how did you change your hair and eye color? I can't see your original-"

"It's natural."

No more was said on this subject.

Professor MacGonagall led us to the walled courtyard like Sealand said and tapped the brick two across and three up. Italy jumped back as the wall opened up to a bustling city street. "Ve… it's so co~ol…"

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," said Professor MacGonagall.

X (Harry POV)

I woke up the next morning confused and disoriented. Where was I…?

And then I remembered. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place… I hadn't woken anyone up last night, did I? A hot wave of guilt spread over me. I was so angry last night that I hadn't hesitated to shout… I must have woken up everyone in the house.

I stepped into the kitchen, and was greeted almost instantly by Mrs. Weasley. "Harry, dear!"

"H-hello, Mrs. Weasley."

"Have you slept well last night?"

"Y-yeah…"

Mrs. Weasley went off to prepare some more sausages. I made my way to the table, where Ron and Hermione were.

"Mornin'," said Ron, munching on a piece of toast. He leaned in and whispered, "No one heard you shouting last night. No one but us, Fred, George, and Ginny. We still haven't figured out why."

I blinked at this. "But… how?"

"Soundproof Charm," said Hermione. "It can be applied to any space. I'm sure that everyone here is perfectly capable of casting it."

"But who would think of casting it in the first place?"

There was a thoughtful pause, and then a yawn at the doorway. Professor Laurinaitis was shuffling into the kitchen, looking sleepy. "Labas rytas…" he said (Good morning).

"Good morning," I said.

He yawned again. "I stayed up all night worrying about Feliks again… I hope he's gotten back safely…"

There was a buzzing sound, and a male voice sung, "Jeszcze Polska nie umarła/Kiedy my żyjemy/Co nam obca moc wyda-" [2]

Professor Laurinaitis pulled out his cell phone and hit a button. "Sveiki?" he said. (Hello)

I couldn't hear what the person said on the other end of the phone, much less understand: from what I could hear, it was probably in Polish. But judging by Professor Laurinaitis's expression, the person on the line had said something shocking. Shocking, but not tragic.

Professor Laurinaitis sighed, and disconnected with a beep. "So he's still here… Oh vell."

"Who's still here?" Ron asked with his mouth full.

"My friend… Feliks. I thought he went back to Poland after what happened back then… but I guess not."

I looked at Ron for clarification, but he just shrugged. "He's never told us anything. Dung's scared stiff of him—I did tell you about Dung, right?"

"Yeah… Fred and George's… you-know-what."

Ron nodded. We couldn't mention a word of Fred and Georges' business contact.

Professor Laurinaitis's cell phone rang again. This time he kept on talking, allowing the three of us to finish our breakfast. Hermione leaned in and said, "We have to clean the curtains after this. But the others haven't eaten yet, so we can talk in our room."

Professor Laurinaitis turned around, and said, "Professor MacGonagall can't make it today. She said that she had to escort a few muggle-born students around Diagon Alley." He sighed. "And today was the only day that she said she could make…"

We went back upstairs quickly, and settled down on the beds. "So, you've never gotten around to telling me about Professor Laurinaitis," I said.

Ron shrugged. "We don't know very much about him," he said.

"All we know is that there are five new professors this year, and he's one of them," said Hermione. "But I don't know which subject he teaches."

"Well, if it's DADA, then we're-"

"Ron!"

Ron shrugged. "He's a total pushover. I bet you a Galleon that he'll get knocked out by one jinx."

"That may be true, but the fact remains that Mundungus is still scared of him," said Hermione. "And we don't know why, either. It could be anything."

"But he's a pushover! I mean, he does whatever Mum wants, even if it is cleaning the loo or something!"

Hermione glared at him. "You just don't like him because he's close with Snape."

A wave of cold air seemed to filter into my lungs. "Did you just say…Snape?"

Hermione nodded vigorously. "Yes. But he's not like him at all."

"But tell me about him and Snape," I said. "I mean, he seemed like a nice guy, but…"

Ron shrugged. "It just seems like he's sucking up to us, you know what I mean? Sirius doesn't like him, either."

That settled it. "So, then-"

"Harry, you can't hate him just because Sirius doesn't like him and he likes Snape," said Hermione sharply.

"Pfft, you just like him because he's handsome," said Ron.

Hermione turned a deep shade of red. "I do not!"

Ron grinned. "Su~ure."

"Anyway," Hermione said with dignity, "from what I've heard, there are two new subjects this year. For you two, there's Muggle Studies. But everyone has to take Music this year."

I gaped. "Music?"

Ron nodded. "I know."

"Music… I remember that Aunt Petunia made me go to a folk dancing class when I was eight," I said. "She did it to humiliate me at school and so that she wouldn't have to look after me for several hours."

Ron groaned. "I feel you, mate. Mum taught all of us how to play instruments… I got the hurdy-gurdy."

"I quite liked folk dancing, actually. Besides, any time spent away from the Dursleys was worth it."

"Oh."

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT HERE!" roared Sirius from the hallway.

I jumped up, but Hermione pulled me down. "They should stop in a moment," said Hermione. "Just… leave them alone."

I looked to Ron for support, but he shook his head. "You can't help them, mate."

I sat back down reluctantly, and Hermione sighed. "I can't say that I agree with Sirius on this… It's about Kreacher."

Ron shrugged. "The nutter deserves-"

Hermione glared at him. "He's not in his right mind, Ron!"

"Shh!" I whispered. Ron and Hermione fell silent.

I could now make out Sirius's and Professor Laurinaitis's voices again. "…He's a disgusting little toerag anyway-"

"You can't blame him for zat, your ancestors vere ze vones who made him zat vay."

"Are you saying that I should take responsibility for-"

"I'm saying zat you should apologize!"

There was a tense silence. Professor Laurinaitis sighed. "I von't force you. I vill leave now, but don't think zat zis is over."

I heard Professor Laurinaitis walk off, and Sirius snapped at Kreacher to go away. Kreacher sulked away, and Sirius sighed.

I opened the door. "You heard?" Sirius asked seriously.

I nodded.

"I can't stand that man… turns up from out of nowhere, and follows Molly like a dog… And I bet you anything that the other three teachers Snape got are just the same."

Hermione gasped. "So it was Snape who appointed the new teachers? But… I thought that it was Dumbledore's job!"

"I guess not," said Ron.

"Ron!"

Sirius shrugged. "Who knows. Anyway, how about some breakfast? I'm starving."

X (Back to Prussia)

We got our supplies rather easily. The bookshop, Flourish and Blotts, had stocked all of our school books, and I was surprised that Belarus didn't want any books on love potions. She caught me trying hard not to look at her, and she explained grudgingly that if she was going to marry 'Big Brother', then she was going to do it the real way. Professor MacGonagall seemed to brighten up a shade after she said that.

The Apothecary had luckily labeled each ingredient that we would use at Hogwarts. I took a few ingredients that weren't on the list just because they sounded interesting. [3]

I had doubts about the cauldron store, since Britain was notorious for importing thin-bottom cauldrons, but Hungary approved of their thickness. Given that she depended on the thickness of cooking implements to bash my head in daily, I figured that the ones she chose would do.

None of us had wanted pets, since everyone but Belarus had their own; I had Gilbird, Sealand had his seagull, Italy and Romano had their cats, and Spain had Pedro the bull. We didn't want broomsticks either; they were too expensive for the school to pay for either way. I was surprised that Sealand didn't ask, but he later admitted that he used to break into his brother's broom shed until he was caught. Upon discovering his brother's desire to fly, England had not punished Sealand as I thought he would, but rather grumbled a while before coming back out to show him how to fly properly. Sealand said that England had claimed to only have taught him so that he wouldn't break his neck, but I was sure that it was just because they really loved each other. Not that I told him, of course.

At last, we came to… the wands. Professor MacGonagall left us alone for this, saying that wands tend to be more private than anything else. Ollivander's was a small, dingy shop filled with rows upon rows of boxes. The only other piece of furniture in there was a single chair.

"Ah. Hello. New students, are you?"

An old man appeared from behind one of the rows.

Italy ducked behind Romano, who glared at the man. "How did you know?"

"Your expression, of course."

I considered pressing him further, but decided against it. "So, who first?"

Sealand eagerly stepped up. Ollivander—it must have been him—stared at him for a full minute, and then began measuring him. "Hm…" he muttered under his breath. "Silver Lime and Unicorn Hair, twelve inches, whippy." He pressed a wand into Sealand's hand but snatched it away just as quickly. "Alder and Dragon Heartstring, fourteen and a quarter inches, sturdy."

The process went on, and Hungary offered to run out and get ice cream while we waited. Ollivander nodded, but said that we would have to eat the cones outside if we did so.

It was a little while before Hungary came back before Ollivander found Sealand's wand. He was grinning. "I had made this wand when I had just finished my apprenticeship," he said. "I was young then, and I believed that I could make a wand with a metal core. Alas, the wand worked, but did not choose an owner for decades, so I never again used metal. The ore I used was blue steel that never rusted… I found it in a lake. Maybe this is your wand. Dogwood and Steel, twelve and a half inches, stubborn."

Sealand took the wand, and at Ollivander's urging, flicked it around.

Five minutes later, Hungary found us sitting outside the shop, still trying to wring the water out of our clothes. Sealand was happy with his wand, but still happy for the chocolate ice cream that Hungary had brought him. "Who's inside?" Hungary asked as she licked her cone.

"Romano," said Sealand.

A little while later, a storekeeper came running out of his shop, screaming that he was robbed. Belarus was able to 'persuade' him that we had no part in it, and then he continued screaming about his 'poor stolen tomatoes'.

Romano silently ducked out of the wand shop, holding a tomato in one hand and his new wand in another. "Not a word," he muttered.

Italy volunteered to go next, and we discussed wands. "Jerk-E-I mean, Arthur said that wands choose wizards," said Sealand. "He said that the wood is based on their masters' personality, but being linked to the wand core or tree can affect it."

I looked at Spain. "Do you think zat… zat vould be a problem?" I asked.

Spain shrugged. "Maybe it will, maybe not? Don't sweat it, Gilbert!"

Italy came bounding out, and plopped down next to Romano. "What kind of wand did you get?" he asked.

Romano flicked his wand. "Willow and Wolf Hair, eleven and a half inches, solid. Wait a minute… don't tell me… the hair…"

"Ve? Mr. Ollivander said that the core of my wand came from a wolf in Italy, and the wolf had let him take only two hairs… I wonder who the other person is?"

"Idiota…" Romano muttered under his breath.

"Oh, and it's Ebony and Wolf Hair, eleven and a half inches, and very bendy!"

"Good for you," Romano grumbled.

"And I got a new pot!" said Italy. "It came filled with boiling water so now I can make pasta!"

Spain went in, and came out extremely quickly. "First try!" he said jovially. "Hawthorn and Phoenix Feather, fourteen and a half inches, temperamental!"

Belarus wanted me to go next, but I said that I wasn't finished with my ice cream yet; it would melt if I left it behind, and she was done with hers anyway. She took a long time, although not nearly as long as Sealand.

When she came out, she slammed open the door and said, "Your turn."

I ate the last of my cone and entered the shop once again. The wand's effects were apparent; a good portion of the shop was now charred, and icicles hung from the ceiling. Just like Sealand had been, I was measured and handed wands that were confiscated and replaced so quickly that I thought I was in a car factory.

At last, Ollivander had finally given me a wand that he didn't grab back for five seconds. "Go on. Try it."

A black eagle sprung from the tip, flew around my head and screeched three times, before finally settling on my shoulder and whispered into me ear, "Jedam das seine."

It then burst into flames, but not before leaving behind a single feather. I picked it up. My flag was emblazoned into it; a black eagle on a white background with twin bars of black above and below.

Ollivander grinned. "Blackthorn and Dragon Heartstring, fifteen inches and unyielding. You may notice that the tip is made of steel. Don't touch it, it's sharp."

I touched it anyway, and it drew blood. Hm… a decent wand after all. "So, how much do we owe you for zis?"

X

Professor MacGonagall found us at the Leaky Cauldron, told us how to get to the Hogwarts Express, and gave us our tickets. She bade us goodbye, and turned a corner.

We got home in my car, this time Spain riding shotgun because, well, it's the awesome me's car! At Belarus's 'urging', Sealand had found one of England's books that explained wand lore. "Dogwood… quirky and playful?"

"Ve? Can I see?"

"Ebony… non-conformist."

Belarus looked confused, but I knew what the wand meant. "Even if you don't seem strong willed on the surface, you haven't changed in centuries," I said. "That should be enough."

"What was yours, Belarus?" Sealand asked.

"Ash," she said. "Stubbornness, right?"

"'Ash is stubborn, chestnut drones, rowan gossips, hazel moans'," Sealand recited. "Jerk-England taught me that."

I whistled. "Should have known."

"And you said that it was… fourteen inches, thick, and Dragon Heartstring? And that dragon was a Belarusian Knifetail that nearly took out his leg."

He flipped back a few pages. "B is closer, Prussia. Blackthorn, right? Hm…it's a warrior's wand. Suited to martial combat…"

I looked at the tip again. Metal.

"And Hawthorn, Spain? Paradoxes… complexity… light and darkness, like Jerk-England said."

"Wait, what did your brother say about me?"

"Willow," Sealand continued loudly, "hidden insecurity, but has great potentia-"

"Answer me."

Spain's voice sent chills up my spine. His axe was already out-

And he dropped it. "Sorry, I lost control again… I'll try not to let it happen again!"

I sweatdropped. How long would we have to deal with this?

X (Harry POV)

By the end of the day, I was sure that we were waging war on the house. Not long after breakfast did we kill the doxies in the curtain, kill a nest of pigmies living under the stairs, take down a dozen screaming portraits of various Black family members, and finally drag them, earplugs in ears, to the boiler and burn them all. And only then did we have lunch.

By the time we were finally done, it was dinnertime. Mrs. Weasley had cooked another delicious dinner, but I was too tired to say much. I could tell that neither Professor Laurinaitis nor Sirius were happy with the arrangements, but what I really noticed was the fact that Mundungus Fletcher excused himself from the table as soon as Professor Laurinaitis sat down. I resolved to ask him about it later, and went upstairs.

There, I told Ron and Hermione about my neighbors. Like I thought, Ron really did think that Natalya was mental. Hermione, on the other hand, was more curious about Peter. "I really think that something may have been up with him. I mean, he was the only one who had actually looked at your scar, right?"

I shrugged.

Ron blinked. "Maybe he was going to Hogwarts. I mean, he is the right age and all."

"Hang on. I didn't see any sign of magic the whole time," I said. "And none of them had any trouble with any Muggle appliances. Gilbert could even drive."

Hermione nodded. "But they could still be half-bloods, or…"

I sighed. "Who knows? I can ask him next summer…"

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," I said.

Professor Laurinaitis came in. "Um… Sveiki…" he said shyly.

"Hi…" I said. Even if Sirius didn't like him, I had trouble being rude to him. It was like kicking a puppy.

"I… since no one else seemed to have told you, I thought that you wanted to know…"

Professor Laurinaitis blinked. "Your trial is tomorrow."

TO BE CONTINUED!

[1] Charing Cross Road, Trafalgar Square- I looked it up, and they are close.

[2] It was not until 1996 before there were customized ringtones. Oh, and that was the Polish national anthem.

[3] Buying interesting ingredients- I do that on Pottermore.

I looked up the wands on Pottermore. Cool, eh?

Sealand's wand is made from a fragment of Excalibur.

Jedam Das Seine is the Prussian motto. To each his own.

What will happen at the trial? Why is Mundungus afraid of Lithuania? And when will people finally realize that Prussia's hair is natural?