Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own neither Hetalia nor Harry Potter. That's why this is a FANfiction. On !
Harry POV
The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up themarble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt. A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him. "Peeves, " Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist. " He raised his voice, "Peeves - show yourself" A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered. "Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks. "Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked. "Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy. Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.
"You want to watch out for Peeves, " said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are," At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. "Password?" she said. "Caput Draconis, " said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it - Neville needed a leg up - and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - they were obviously in one of the towers - they found their beds at last: eight four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed. " Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings. "Get off, Scabbers! He's chewing mysheets. "Harry was going to ask Ron if he'd had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once.
Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because itwas his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he triedto pull it off but it tightened painfully - and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it -then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold - there was aburst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking. He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.
Gryffindor Hetalia POV
Alfred (rather loudly) woke Canada up and dragged him down to breakfast, hooking his arm through Canada's, who didn't protest. When they marched in, everyone's attention was trained on Harry Potter. Alfred face grew green with envy as he shouted, "The hero has arrived, along with his less awesome sidekick!" Canada blushed as several people turned to glare at Alfred. He was not used to so much attention.
On the way to classrooms, people were always craning their necks to see Harry. Not Alfred. Eng- I mean, Arthur, had to remind Alfred SEVERAl times in hushed whispers about their mission and almost nearly begged Alfred not to beat anyone up.
There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Alfred nearly passed out each time. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Alfred would always try to throw whatever was in his hand (normally a hamburger) at him. Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop waste paper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Alfred always wanted to give that damn cat of his, Ms. Norris, a solid kick. So did, pretty much, everyone else. Filch could appear any moment wherever he wished. And the Hetalians often thought that there secret passages that they didn't know about. (A/N We know there are secret passages, but don't tell them that!)
There was more to magaic, thry found out, than waving a wand and saying a few funny words. Of course, England knew this. However, they never would have known that astronomy had anything to do with magic, as the Gryffindors had to study the night sky every Wednesday night. Then there was Herbology behind the castle 3 times a week, with a dumpy little witch named Professor Sprout. There they learned how to take care of all strange plants and fungi and what they were used for. The worst for Alfred was History of Magic. Not only was it painfully boring, but it was also taught by a ghost, and Alfred never showed up to Professor Binn's class. Professor Binns had been very old when he had gotten up to teach a class after he had been sleeping in front of the fireplace in the teachers lounge and left his body behind.
Professor Flitwick was a tiny little wizard who taught Charms. He had to stand on a pile of books in order to see over the desk. McGonagall was the type of teacher you didn't want to cross. She gave them a talking-to the moment they sat in her first class. "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts-" she was interrupted by Alfred. "Cool!" he said loudly, grinning like an idiot. Professor McGonagall scowled at him and continued, "ANYONE, even you, Mr. Jones, messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned," She turned her desk into a pig and back again. Everyone was impressed and couldn't wait to get started. They soon realized that changing furniture to animals was difficult magic and after taking a lot of complicated notes, finally got around to turning a match into a needle. By the end of the lesson, both Arthur and Hermione had made any difference. Professor showed everyone how both of their's was silver and pointy, and had given them a rare smile.
The class in which every one was excited about was Defense against the Dark Arts. But Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire in Romania. "Oh, I know a Vampire from Romania!" Alfred blurted. Quirrell visibly paled and hid under his desk. "You git!" Arthur hissed. Alfred laughed and shrugged him off.
Harry POV
On Friday, the mail arrived. Everyone was quite used to it by now. This time, However, each of the foriegn students got a large packet, each recieved from different birds. The foriegners groaned very loudly and Feliciano said, "Veh~ Luddy, I don't want to do paperwork!" Ludwig just sighed and inched away from him. Ivan just smiled creepily at it, not touching it. Yao nearly strangled Arthur, saying, "You lied to me!" Kiku took out a pen and immediantly started working on it, as did Ludwig after he got a great deal away from Feliciano. Lovino was ranting about how much he hated paperwork, and he used some very colorful language. Feliks was complaining about it to Toris, who just nodded to whatever he was saying. Matthew sat there unnoticed, while Alfred loudly banged his head on the table and groaned. Another owl came for Arthur and the owl dropped the letter. Arthur hurriedly opened the letter. "It's for all of us!" he announced as the foreigners gathered around him. HArry leaned in so he could hear him as he read aloud:
"So you think you could escape paperwork by going to that school? Ha! Nice try, really! You have each recieved this month's paperwork, and in the future, will recieve paperwork for each month. You are expected to send it back to your respective bosses on time each month.
Sincerely,
Your bosses,"
The transfers loudly groaned as Feliciano burst into tears.
"Is paperwork really that bad?" Harry asked. "It's awful," Feliciano sobbed. Ludwig sighed, "It's not that bad, Feli," "Speak for yourself, you damn potato bastard!" Kiku came up behind them. "I'm done!" He announced. "What!" Alfred yelled, "That's impossible!" Kiku shook his head, "Not if you get started on it immediantly and do not stop until it is done, instead of getting distracted and telling yourself you will do it later," "Oh,"
After that little episode, Harry realized a note had been dropped on the plate (After Hedwig and nipped him rather hard).
It said, in a very untidy scrawl:
Dear Harry,
I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me aroundthree? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid
Harry borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled 'Yes, please, see you later' on the back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again. It was lucky that Harry had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out tobe the worst thing that had happened to him so far. At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end ofthe first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry - he hated him. Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name. "Ah, Yes, " he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity. "Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling thenames and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking, " he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach. "More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. "Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand had shot into the air. "I don't know, sir, "said Harry. Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything,"He ignored Hermione's hand. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter. "I don't know, sir," "Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys', but did Snape expect him to remember everything in 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi'?Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. "I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her? "A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus's eye, and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased. "Sit down, " he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, except for, of course, Alfred. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter,"
Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them up to mixing up simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, who he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a lous hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Alfred's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes into people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on stools.
Hero POV
So, we apparantly did something wrong when our potion started bubbling and smoking and our cauldron melted. I was being a hero and pushed Neville away and he ran to back of the class, safe from the bubbling potion, which got all over my arms and legs and painful boils started erupting. "Idiot boy!" Snape snarled. "I get called that a lot," I answered. He shot me a death glare and cleared the potion away in a wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" I glared at him and nodded my head. "Take him to the hospital wing," He spat at Neville. Neville tried lead me to the hospital wing. Note: Tried. We wandered around the halls for hours. It's a wonder a Professor didn't catch us wandering the halls during class. Eventually, my boils healed up and a thoroughly confused Neville decided to go back. "How did they heal so fast?" he asked. Shit, I thought, What do I say? "Uh...well, you see..." I chuckled nervously," I secretly used a healing spell?" Neville nodded as we entered the Great Hall. We had been wandering the halls for hours and it was now dinner time.
HEY HO! Have you seen the Purge? It was awesome but I still don't understand how the smartest kid did the dumbest move... So any way, this chapter is REALLY long by my standards. I was distracted by Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, which came on today. SO it took a bit to write...