Summary: (Harry Potter / Hetalia Axis Powers Crossover) England decides to teach at Hogwarts to keep an eye on the Boy Who Lived. But the famous Trio (Harry, Ron, Hermione) are becoming suspicious of their new professor... Can England keep his status as a country a secret? And what does Voldemort want with him?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Hetalia belong to their rightful owners. I do not own either.
England
England groaned, long and despairingly. He had just made a fool of himself in front of almost the entire faculty, not to mention most of the student body. He couldn't entirely recall what he had done or said last night, but something told him that he was going to get a lot of funny looks today. It was a wonder he had even been able to find his way back to his rooms in the state he was in. To add onto his long and growing list of problems, he had a hangover...
How the hell did I even get drunk? growled England to himself.
The island Nation was not looking forward to teaching his classes today... His earlier prediction that people would be giving him weird looks proved to be correct the moment he stepped into the hall. Whispers and muffled giggles followed his every move. It became so bothersome and maddening that at one point England was on the verge of pulling out his hair and screaming. Fortunately, it didn't come to that, or else people would probably have stared even more... Going through his normal daily routine was torture, because England had to deal with the knowledge that almost the entire school was thinking back to the events of the Halloween Dance... and there was nothing he could do about it.
When the day was finally over, England's troubles didn't end there. Just as he was about to close the door to the History of Magic classroom (wherein he had just been teaching the second year Hufflepuffs), he heard someone walking up behind him with the sharp and harsh sounds of hard shoes impacting the ground. Turning his head to see who it was, England was immediately struck on the side of his ribcage by a hand. It didn't particularly hurt, but it still shocked him and he was grateful that it hadn't been a slap to the face. Jumping back in alarm with his hand twitching towards where he stowed away his wand, England quickly realised that it was only McGonagall... somehow, with the murderous glare on her face, he was having a hard time deciding whether that was a good thing or a bad thing... Sometimes England felt like even You-know-who wouldn't be able to compete with Minerva when she was in a particularly bad mood. If looks could kill, and furthermore if Nations could die, Arthur Kirkland would have been a cold body on the ground by now.
"What in the world was that for Minerva?" yelped Arthur, placing his hand over where she had struck him with dilated eyes.
Minerva's scowl deepened, and she stepped forward to jab a finger into the middle of his chest. "What you did last night was completely irresponsible Arthur, I thought you would known better. You struck me as a respectable, responsible young individual... Now I'm just disgusted. How could you be such a bad example to the children like that? We we're supposed to be chaperoning!"
England blinked. "Er..."
"Don't play dumb with me, Arthur."
Unwittingly, blurred memories from his drunken rampage floated into England's mind. Ah... yes. Now he remembered holding aloft Minerva in his arms as she yelled and beat at him. That was probably the reason she was so...
"Are you even listening to me Arthur?!"
Damn. Arthur fumbled with words trying to placate McGonagall. "M-Minerva, forgive me... I was not myself-"
"Obviously!"
"I'm pretty sure that at one point in the evening I unknowingly partook-of-an-alcoholic-beverage." England rushed frantically, mashing his last words together and praying that she wouldn't hit him again. In all the fights and wars he had participated in, he still found women scary when they were mad.
She paused, her mouth open, then closed it with a snap as her eyes regained the furious quality they had had before. "Even worse! You brought and drank alchohol at a school dance-wait. Did you say "unknowingly"?" Minerva seemed to calm down a bit as confusion set in.
"Yes," replied England in relief. "So you see, I wasn't entirely at fault..."
Minerva's head moved a bit to the side as she considered this, the lines in her face begining to soften. "...You must have drinked something..."
"The only thing I drank was some punch," said England perplexedly. "Awfully good-tasting punch if I might add..."
The stern Headmistress snapped her fingers, startling England slightly. "Of course... I should have known they would try and pull off something like this..." Her face slowly returned to the expression of outrage it had previously acquired when she had been confronting England, but now the anger was no longer directed at him.
England wasn't quite following her. "Um... who's "they"?" he asked delicately, for fear that she would remember and rekindle her wrath against him.
"The Weasley boys, of course. Who else? I don't have proof, but I'm sure they dosed that punch with alchohol. To think that some of the students were drinking under our watch, and that they managed to intoxicate a Professor! If I ever catch them doing something like this again..." She let the threat hang in the air, and England was struck with a bout of sympathy for the Weasley twins...
"I'm so sorry I attacked you like that Arthur, I feel terrible. You truly were just a victim and I shouldn't have assumed..." apologised Minerva shamefully, extending a hand to reseal their friendship.
England accepted it, (though not without a certain wariness), and smiled. "It never happened. And I'm sorry if I acted... inappropriately."
With a smile of her own, Minerva stepped back and began to walk in the direction from whence she came, talking over her shoulder all the while. "Now, I have to go track down a certain pair of red-headed boys..."
The day before.
America(1)
Alfred F. Jones hated airplane food.
Other countries always claimed that he had a "poor sense of taste" (Bullcrap! He had the best food on this planet Earth!), but even he couldn't stand the "food", if you could even call it that, that they served on flights. To put it simply, airplane food sucked. Sometimes, it was just as bad as Iggy's cooking. You would have thought that since Alfred was travelling in a private plane, and that he was the United freaking States of America, they'd be able to serve something better for their own nation... Nope, that unfortunately, wasn't the case.
America groaned to himself as he forced down a hunk of greasy chicken and rice, shuddering as it slid down his throat. What he needed was a nice cheese burger...
It was nearly a nine-hour flight from New York to Berlin, and Alfred was quickly finding himself growing bored and impatient. He had phoned Mattie before leaving, and the two of them would be sharing a dual-bedded hotel room not far from where the World Conference would be taking place.
World meetings weren't the same since Iggy had left to go teach at that crack-pot school called Hogwarts. Things weren't as interesting without him, and although the replacement Wales was more than competent and could be very witty, America just didn't know the him as well as he did England. It wasn't as fun to sit in a dull meeting without being able to watch England and France try and choke each other. More than that, America just plain missed the sometimes grumpy and often serious older nation... It was different to not see his brother for a few months, and America hoped that England would be back soon so that things could go back to normal...
Earlier that day.
Canada
It sucked when you had to convince your pet polar bear to get into a car. Unfortunately for Matthew Williams, this was a regular occurrence, and the task was never an easy one.
"Get in." he stated bluntly, holding the passenger door open and gesturing.
"No." The polar bear looked away stubbornly. The little white bear could have a resolve harder than iron when he wanted too.
"Why not?" asked Matthew, exasperatedly.
"Because it sucks to sit in your lap for hours while those weirdos yammer at each other."
"Well, you're not staying here. The last time I left you alone in the house for a long time, I found my maple-syrup stash and supply COMPLETELY exhausted."
"You need better locks. Don't blame me. The temptation is just too great."
"Get your furry behind in this car right now."
"Take off." growled the bear, baring his teeth.
"There'll be no syrup or seal blubber for one month. Just the regular salted fish." Canada threatened, crossing his arms with a determined expression set in his features. "No tummy-rubs either."
There was silence as they stared each other down, pitting their wills against each other as they waited to see who would crumble and give in first. Canada wished that Kuma-whatever-his-name-was would hurry it up, or they'd miss their flight and likely cause Alfred to freak out.
"...Fine." Kumajiro stood awkwardly on his hind legs and hauled himself into the vehicle, clambering into and plopping down on the seat. With his round and black eyes he squinted up at the young man standing next to him outside of the car and opened his mouth, "By the way, who the hell are you again?"
Matthew slammed the car-door shut. (2)
America
Sitting in the airport at Berlin was only marginally better than sitting alone in a plane. At least in an airport there were other people around, although in this case they the vast majority of them only spoke German...
Thank God that that flight is over... mentally grumbled Alfred to himself. There was nothing worse than sitting in a plane for hours, all by yourself. That was why Alfred was looking forward to seeing his brother Matt.
By tapping his feet on the ground and occasionally checking his watch, Alfred passed his time waiting for Canada. He didn't have to wait long. It was to great relief he saw Matthew moving in his direction with his polar bear cub disgruntledly waddling beside him.
A gleeful grin split America's face."Yo, Mattie!" called Alfred, jumping up and making a few Germans stare. Canada raised a hand a bit in acknowledgement before America ran over to give him a bear-hug.
Lately, America had found himself spending more time than usual with his Canadian brother. Perhaps it was because that England was gone, so America was instinctually seeking out other sources of family and supporting persons of normalcy in his life. Whatever the reason, Alfred was glad that Canada had made the trip safely, and conveyed his joy into a tight and squeezing hug of endearment.
The bone-crushing hug proved too uncomfortable for Matthew to handle for more than a few seconds. "Jeez, Alfred, It's great to see you, but calm down... I can't breathe," he wheezed, his glasses slightly askew and on the verge of falling off the bridge of his nose to the ground below.
"Oh, man, sorry about that bro!" said Alfred sheepishly, loosening his grip into a more gentler embrace. Sometimes America had a hard time remembering his own strength when he got too excited.
Matthew recovered quickly and patted his brother's back affectionately. "No harm done. Now, let's get to that hotel, shall we?" he suggested.
Alfred's blue eyes brightened, and he readily agreed to this idea.
/
The next morning, Canada was roughly shaken awake by an eager America. Alfred had made sure to get to bed at a good time so that he would be more rested-up for the early-morning conference, but Canada on the other hand had stayed up late last night trying to plan out some points he could bring up in the meeting tomorrow. As a result, America had been able to wake up at the early hour with more ease than his brother... who was still dozing peacefully...
"Wake up Matt! We'll be late if we don't get a move on!"
Matthew flinched and pushed his pillow over his head, burying his face into the bed. For a short moment all was blissfully quiet, but America quickly pulled away the pillow, prying it from Canada's ears.
"Alfred..." moaned Matthew drowsily in his quiet voice, rolling over and squinting his bleary violet eyes. "It's six fifteen in the morning... Did you drink caffeine last night or something...?"
"Nope!" said America, standing up from his brother's bed. "Your lack of faith in me is disturbing, oh brother of mine. Did you forget that the meeting was moved to seven?"
Eyes snapping open Canada bolted upright. "Good Lord you're right! How the hell did I forget!?"
With a shrug Alfred lounged back on the bed. "Beats me, but you'd better get dressed or we won't get there at a good time... and you know how Germany feels about tardiness..."
"DAMN! Why didn't you wake me up sooner?!" demanded Canada, springing to life with a wild look of panic.
Alfred's bottom lip protruded slightly in a pout. "Don't blame me... You get really crabby when tired, so I thought I'd let you rest... plus... you look cute when you sleep," with these parting words America stuck out his tongue playfully, his sky-blue irises glittering teasingly.
Matthew's only response to this was a disgusted snort. He pulled back his covers to find his polar bear fast asleep, his paws wrapped around Canada's ankle and his head resting on the lower part of his leg.
The next few minutes were one of frantic haste as America amusedly watched Canada rush to the bathroom to brush his teeth and dress himself. When his brother came out in his suit for meetings, America could hear him muttering under his breath: "Darn curl... it never combs back with the rest of my hair no matter what I do..." With a parting grumble Canada walked out the door, his polar bear at his heels.
Feeling triumphant that he had been the first one to get ready this time, Alfred called after him, yelling a comment at his back, "By the way, your tie is a little crooked!"
Cursing could be heard outside in the hallway.
Sometimes that guy scares me in the mornings, thought Alfred, chuckling a bit to himself before following his brother and firmly shutting the door behind him.
Australia
Australia had been feeling strange ever since he'd gotten off the taxi that dropped him off a block away from the location of today's world meeting. It was an unnerving feeling, like he was being hunted by some savage and cruel beast or had suddenly stepped into enemy territory. The feeling persisted as he walked the remaining distance, following him like a predator stalking its prey...
The only other time Australia had ever felt this way was when...
There was a collection of muffled whispers in the distance, too soft for the human ear to pick out, but easily detectable by the nation of Australia.
...when he was being followed.
To ensure that whoever was spying on him didn't become alerted to his growing uneasiness, Australia didn't alter his behavior in the slightest and made no move to betray that he was aware of his... tag-alongs. They could, after all, just be a few young and curious German children who didn't mean any disrespect... But then again, the voices he had heard sounded more deep and mature... adult-like...
On the inside, Australia began to prepare for a possible attack on his life, and on the outside, he maintained a strictly passive and calm expression. He knew that at any moment, these fiends could show themselves...
Surely whoever these people are, they can't be thick enough to openly cause harm to a person with this many people around, thought Australia as he passed a group of civilians on their way to some thing or another. I'm probably just over-reacting...
Almost without warning, two beams of bright red light shot out from behind a building. Australia jumped back just in time for the strange magical-missiles to miss his chest and instead pound into the sidewalk, where they left medium-sized craters. People who had been close enough to witness the strange phenomenon either paused in shock or screamed in terror, running away to safety.
What the-?! Magic?
Australia blinked his hazel eyes in disbelief. He had enough wizards in his country to be able to recognise the mystical arts that his big brother England had always been so fond of...
"Crickey!" Australia barely had enough time to react before another pair of crackling bolts of red light hurtled towards him. He dodged to the left, his brown hair shifting with the movement.
With eyes narrowed with determination, Australia put his hand into his coat and retrieved his trusty boomerang which he carried on his person. He began to dart his focus of vision around in hopes of identifying where the magical attack had emanated from... I've got you now, you buggers, thought Australia triumphantly when he saw two men in dark clothing, each holding out a thin stick of wood and that they were aiming at him.
Using all the precision and skill available to him, Australia flung his wooden weapon, grinning cheekily when he heard two satisfactory howls that meant that the boomerang had hit its target. Australia opened his hand and caught the boomerang as it spun back towards him.
Cautiously, Australia closed in on the wizards, who were sitting on the ground with dazed expressions.
"Sorry, mates," Australia said to them, grasping the fronts of their robes in each hand and hauling them up so that they were each eye-level. "But you'll have to do much better than that if-" An unspoken communication seemed to pass between the men as they briefly looked at each other. Then, before Australia could even finish his sentence, a loud 'crack!' sound split the air and they were gone, just like that.
"Tossers!" cursed Australia. They got away!
Australia felt angered and disappointed in himself, but he couldn't afford any time to sulk. Afraid that if he lingered for too long, he could expect another attack, Australia bolted at full speed to where the other nations would be meeting. I have to tell someone about this... As he left the scene, the citizens who had seen the entire event and had been too surprised to run for cover watched him depart, unsure of how to react...
/
/
In the shadows two Death Eaters crouched, awaiting a passing victim to resemble the photos and descriptions they had received from the Dark Lord. They had orders to only specifically target a select few people, (and they used the term "people" loosely... even the Dark Lord didn't seem sure as to what these guys could be...). The day previously the Dark Lord had distributed these descriptions and pictures amongst them and deployed everyone in pairs, so that at different points in the area there would always be at least two Death Eaters ready to pounce on an unsuspecting passerby.
This particular pair had only been recently recruited by the Dark Lord, and this was their first actual mission. Their names were Thomas Martin and Paul Harris. Thomas was feeling excited at the prospect of his first assignment, and was eager to please and impress his new Master. Paul, on the other hand, was not feeling quite as delighted as his new partner...
"Are you sure we're safe here?" hissed Paul, scratching edgily at the newly branded dark mark on his forearm. "We haven't heard from Robinson and Johnson in some time, and they were supposed to be stationed not far from-"
"Hush," said Thomas sternly. "You worry too much, Paul. Quit being so nervous. Once we complete this task, the Dark Lord will reward us greatly..." Thomas drifted off, his eyes alight with visions of glory.
Paul didn't look convinced. "If you say so, Thomas, but-"
Before Paul could finish, there was a heavy but gentle tap on his shoulder.
Thomas and Paul whipped around to face the other direction, their long black robes swirling around their feet and nearly causing Paul to face-plant into the pavement because of the robes' inconvenient length.
"Why are you hiding? You look out of place here, da?"
Towering above the two Death Eaters was a powerful-looking man, both terrific and terrible. On his neck he wore a white scarf that was wound snugly beneath his rounded and gentle-seeming head. His nose was a little large, but smooth, and accentuated the rest of his features nicely. The stranger's hair was so light it appeared almost silver, and his eyes were a chilling amethyst colour...
"Dobroye utro! My name is Ivan. Who are you and what are you doing here?" Whoever this man was, it was safe for Paul and Thomas to guess that he was probably Russian from his accent. The man's voice was pleasant enough, but woven into his smooth and innocent questions there was a hidden malice that made Paul want to shiver and hide under a bed...
"None of your business, sir," huffed Thomas haughtily, his face distorted into one of disgust at having to talk to a muggle.
The light-haired stranger cocked his head slightly, his eyes glinting like shattered icicles. "Oh? You are English, da? I am wondering why you are sneaking over here... it is not good for humans to sneak..."
Paul gasped and shrunk back. Perhaps he wasn't that great of an English speaker, but the man had just talked about humans like he wasn't one, and something told Paul this hadn't just been a coincidence. Paul didn't remember seeing this bloke's description anywhere on the information he was given prior to coming to Berlin, which meant he wasn't one of their targets...
Thomas raised his head, his arrogance impairing his ability to perceive any threat that could compromise his safety. "I don't need to stand here and explain myself to a pathetic muggle. Be on your way, or I might just waste some of my precious energy and time on killing you right here on this spot." To Paul's horror, Thomas began to make a gesture with his hand like he was shooing away a dog.
The Russian was giving Paul a bad feeling, and it was only growing by the second. He didn't think it was the best idea to offend this man... "Thomas, I think we should-"
"Be silent, Paul. You talk too much." With a flourish Paul took out his wand. "And as for you," he said to the tall man with the purple eyes. "I've just about had enough with you. Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green illuminated everything. It even caught the eyes of some muggles who were close enough to the Death Eaters' place of hiding to see the blinding and explosive light.
The mysterious man's knees buckled, and he toppled to the ground in a broken heap, his near-white hair covering his face.
Thomas slapped his hands together a few times, as if he was cleaning off a thin layer of dust. "Well, that takes care of that."
After nudging the body experimentally with his shoe, Paul had to concede that Thomas had indeed killed the stranger, and that he must have been a regular human being after all...
Paul sighed, both in relief and disgust. "Help me take care of this body," said Paul, turning to his partner.
"What body are you talking about?" came that eerie Russian voice...
Paul and Thomas slowly turned to look, their bodies shaking involuntarily. This was impossible. No, he was dead. I saw it! He was dead! No no no...
Hard eyes of amethyst crystal pierced them, like shards of ice ready to impale... The man was standing again, and he was very, very, paralyzing so, alive...
His bearing was frigid, and even Thomas found that he couldn't say anything when met with those frostily blizzarding eyes and that icy glare. The man... no, the monster smiled at them with fake friendliness, as if they were all just old pals having a get-together... Then he sighed tragically, closing his frightening dark magenta eyes. "Oh you poor people... Why'd you have to do that? I was going to let you run... but now I'm so angry I think I'll just kill you both, da? Kolkolkolkol..."
Canada
After parking their rented car, The two North-American brothers began to speed-walk to the building wherein the other nations would be gathered. For this conference Germany had chosen an unassuming office building. It was a little fancy-looking, with many large and gleaming windows, but people would assume that the nations entering the building were just employees on their way to work.
Canada was doing his best to fix his tie so that it was absolutely perfect and at the same time he would periodically blow the one curled strand of hair that always stuck out from the rest of his hair out of his face. Kumajiro faithfully followed, often opening his mouth to yawn with flashing teeth as he did so.
"Seems to me like someone wants to look good for a certain... Ukrainian..." said Alfred, wiggling his eyebrows a bit and nudging his brother in the ribs.
"Sh-shut up!" snapped Matthew, blushing like a tomato and abandoning his tie. "I-it's not like that!"
"Sure it isn't," agreed Alfred sarcastically, rolling his eyes and stuffing his hands in his pockets.
When they were just about at the building's doors, something caught Canada's eye... A corner of black fabric swept into a dark alley on the other side of the building where the world meeting was about to take place. Canada narrowed his eyes a bit, and "hmm"ed to himself.
"You go ahead, Alfred," said Canada, stopping as Alfred opened the door and was about to move inside. America blinked in bemusement. "I just want to check out something..." Canada explained.
America didn't seem all that agreeable to this idea, but he didn't argue. "Okay, Mattie. Just stay safe and hurry back I guess... you'll be late if you don't."
"Yea, yea," Matthew said, distractedly keeping his eyes on the alleyway. "I know, I will."
/
/
"This one isn't on the list..."
"Well, we can't just go back to the Dark Lord empty-handed, can we? Johnson and Robinson failed already, and we haven't been having the best luck either. Lots of people are coming into this building, but we haven't seen anyone who matches our descriptions yet. Better this lad or nothing, I say. He should be easy."
"You're right, let's just grab the pipsqueak and make a run for it."
A boy twitched and moved as he heard the whispers coming from behind him, not knowing that he was the subject of their whisperings. The young boy looked to be the age of twelve, with ocean-blue eyes that were innocent and impish at the same time. He had sandy hair and thick eyebrows that stood out against the rest of his face. His outfit comprised of a blue and white sailor's cap, a blue-collared white sailor's shirt, capris, long white socks and black shoes.
From the other end of the empty alley-way came two men. They were cloaked and cowled in robes of darkest black, like a void that sucked out all colour from the surrounding area. From beneath their hoods everything was blotted out in a deep, dark shadow, so no feature of their faces could be identified.
The boy turned his head slightly so that half his face was visible. He blinked and moved his body all the way to face them directly.
With a bright welcoming smile, the boy exclaimed, "Hello there! My name's Sealand, and I'm a country! What's your name?"
They ignored the child's words and greeting. Lowering their wands like the hand of fate carrying the mallet of judgement, they moved closer in unison. The boy who called himself "Sealand" suddenly didn't look so chipper. He took a step back, still oblivious to the amount of danger he was in, but getting an uneasy feeling from these men and their ominous behavior.
"W-what are you-" The boy's trembling words were drowned out by his ensuing scream of pain as one of the cloaked men shot a bright red pain-inducing spell at his leg. The boy recoiled and dropped to one knee, panting and shaking with dilated eyes.
His eyes widened when one of the men came close enough for him to see what lay beneath the hood... he was wearing a hideous bone-white mask of a skull.
Both of the men prepared to fire stunning-spells simultaneously at the defenseless boy, when the two of them were suddenly pushed aside by a body from their right.
Sealand
In hindsight, maybe today wasn't the best day to try and sneak into the world meeting...
Sealand thought to himself despairingly. What a predicament I've found myself in...
There was no time left to retaliate. Sealand clenched his eyes tight, awaiting another unblockable attack he knew was surely on his way... Inwardly he resolved to himself that no matter what happened, he would fight these strange men. He would kick, he would scream, he would do something...
...Nothing came. Sealand heard two grunts and felt a shadow pass over him as someone stood above him.
"Get up!" There was a shout, and someone roughly grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet, frantically pushing him forward. "Get moving! Don't look back!" Sealand opened his eyes to see a familiar face. It was his older brother Am... no, never mind, it was Canada. Sealand had never been really close with any of his siblings, as they didn't truly consider him as one of their own. It had been one of Sealand's dreams to finally be acknowledged and recognised as a country so that one day England and his siblings would respect him as an equal... not the annoyance that he was. The last thing that Sealand had expected was to see Canada here, helping him, especially after that one time he had impersonated him in a G8 meeting. Behind the northern nation the two men lay sprawled on the ground with dazed faces.
"W-wh-" Sealand stuttered, staring with his thick eyebrows held high.
Canada gasped sharply, his hand flying to his shoulder, which was now bloody. One of the Death Eaters was on his knees with his wand out, having recovered.
"I'm fine!" Canada gritted his teeth and rolled his shoulder a bit. "Keep going, I'll follow right behind you!" Canada ordered, giving him an encouraging shove.
"But-"
"Now!"
They both sprinted, although their movements were slow as a result of their injuries. Sealand was having a hard time with his leg, which was quickly proving a hindrance. He could only limp and stumble at a reduced pace for fear that he would fall. With impatience Canada lifted Sealand up into his arms, wincing as the action strained his shoulder. For the first time Sealand noticed a padding sound moving alongside them, and when he looked he saw a small white bear galloping with them and staying near Canada's legs. Not only that, but two pairs of heavy foot-falls were quickly catching up... evidence that they were being pursued.
The building where the other nations were meeting came into focus and an unobstructed view as they rounded a corner. Canada set Sealand down again and urged him on. "Let's go! We're almost home-free-ah!" Another bloody gash, this time on Canada's back judging by the way he held himself
Out of nowhere the two dark-robed men flung themselves onto the Canadian, throwing their arms over his shoulders and trying to push him to the ground. The one closest to Sealand reached out one of his hands to try and snatch the edge of his sailor-outfit, but Sealand managed to evade the man's grasping fingers.
The Canadian thew off one of his attackers, but the man was quickly back on his feet and clinging onto Canada once again, pounding him with his fists. The three men struggled, and Canada was just barely holding his own. Sealand moved in their direction, trying to find some way to help-
"Go!" said Canada urgently, elbowing an assailant. "I can handle this! I didn't risk my neck for them to get us both! Get out of here now and find Alfred! He'll know what to do!"
In the scuffle, a small bundle of papers was dropped. Without thinking, Sealand snatched them up and darted away, his eyes foggy and his mind blurry and numb.
Canada
Canada watched the young sea-fort micro-nation run to safety, flinging open the door to the building and scampering inside. He sighed in relief. At least Peter was safe... if he found the other Nations, he'd be fine. Sealand would send for help and then the others would come to help him get out of this mess...
The northern nation wasn't entirely sure what had compelled him to help Sealand. It just... didn't seem right to leave him. He was so little looking, like Canada and his brother themselves had been as young colonies...
Meanwhile, he was still trying to fend off the two Death Eaters; for that was what Canada knew them to be. Although Canada had never seen a Death Eater before, he had heard enough stories from England to be able to identify them. There was no mistaking the masks these thugs wore, but Canada was still at a loss for why You-know-who's followers would be after countries.
Just then Kumajachijo flung himself into the fray, digging his sharp teeth into one of the Death Eater's thighs, who shrieked in pain and astonishment and desperately attempted to kick the small bear away while simultaneously keeping a hold on Canada.
"What are you waiting for?!" yelled the Death Eater who was being attacked by Kuma. "Disaparate!"
No, thought Canada, his hope fading at the Death Eater's words... but it was too late. With a loud 'crack!' they were gone. Canada had nearly forgotten the sensation of apparation, and wasn't too keen to relieve it. It felt like his entire body was being forced through a tube that was too small for him to fit through. Just when the feeling was becoming unbearable, Berlin was gone and had been replaced by the streets of another, much smaller town. By Canada's best guess, they were somewhere in Scotland... at least judging by the vibe he was getting from the place.
Before Canada could even react he was shoved into yet another alley way. There weren't many people in the streets, and the ones that were present walked right on by the alley way as if it wasn't there... Muggle repelling spells, Canada realised. To test his theory, Canada let out a call for help, but no one seemed to hear him...
"Incarcerous!" said one of the Death Eaters, and immediately cords of rope sprang out of his wand and encased Canada, tightly binding his arms to his sides and his legs together. Unable to efficiently support his weight or maintain his balance any longer, Canada fell backwards, banging his head and propping his back up against the wall behind him.
Kumajiro was still attached to the other wizard, but upon seeing his friend in ropes he released the Death Eater and ran to stand protectively in front of Canada, letting out little growls that hardly seemed threatening.
"So much for our bad luck," said one of the Death Eaters congratulatively, throwing back his hood and taking off his skull-shaped mask.
"Good luck?! I'm the one who has the bite marks from a crazy bear," whimpered the other, delicately feeling with his hands the part of his leg where he had been savagely bit by Kuma.
"Yes, but I've memorised those descriptions that the Dark Lord provided for us, and I'm a hundred percent sure that this one is on the list."
Matthew didn't understand what the two wizards were talking about, but it didn't sound good... "What do you want with me?" challenged Canada, shifting in the ropes.
For a the space of a few seconds, it felt like they weren't going to answer Canada, but then the Death Eater who hadn't been attacked by Kumajacho (or whatever his name was) opened his mouth. "It's not you the Dark Lord wants," replied the unmasked Death Eater hesitantly.
"Then who?"
No one answered this time.
Suddenly, Canada's ears were assaulted by another cracking sound. More and more Death Eaters were popping into existence in the alleyway, all of them disappointed-looking and empty handed. When the newcomers saw Canada, they either perked up or immediately began to act jealously around the two who had been responsible for his capture.
Canada began to panic. There was no way he was going to get out of this. There were too many of them... No, he had to think positively. Alfred, Cuba, or someone would find him... right?
Kuma was still growling bravely despite the Death Eaters' increased numbers, his round white ears pressed back and his stance wide.
"Get out of here Kumajiro," Canada said in a hushed, defeated voice. It wasn't an instruction, or a request, but a command. Kumajiro's ears flicked forward at the sound of his name, Canada hadn't forgotten it this time.
With a whimper, the petite polar bear cub gave a fleeting look over his shoulder at Canada. "Who?" he peeped sadly.
"Leave, you can't do anymore good here," Canada continued in a louder voice.
"No," said the bear firmly, shaking his head and dropping his muzzle to the ground.
At this point, many of the Death Eaters had stopped talking and were simply watching what was going on. They seemed surprised that the white bear could speak, although he had only spoken two short, one-syllable words.
Canada was desperate. He already knew he was a goner, and the last thing he wanted was for Kuma to get hurt as well. The polar bear's loyalty was honourable and admirable, but it would do him and Canada no good if he stayed. As a last-ditch effort, Canada kicked out his bound feet and struck Kumajiro in the side. Kuma yelped in pain and glanced at Canada reproachfully, but otherwise didn't move from his spot.
"Don't you see? I don't want you with me anymore! Get!" screamed Canada in frustration, unable to wipe at his moist eyes because of the ropes tying together his hands. "Shoo! You dumb animal!" Doesn't he see? thought Canada through his tears. Can't he see that I'm trying to help him?
Kumajiro dropped his head and flinched like a dog that had been whipped. He moved as if to nuzzle Matthew, but stopped in his tracks when Canada yelled once again, "Don't touch me! Didn't you hear what I said? Just go!"
The two stared at each other, gazing sorrowfully into the other's eyes. "Who..." Kuma shook sadly, turning away only to run into the feet of another person.
Matthew moved his eyes upwards to see that the man Kumajiro had blundered into had skin as pale as bones and scarlet eyes like a snake...
He had never before seen the wizard before, only heard his name, and yet Matthew knew that this could only be one person...
Lord Voldemort crouched until his hideously deformed face was nearly level with Kumajiro's, who in response drew back in fear.
"So..." hissed You-know-who in a voice that sent chills down Canada's spine. "This beast is intelligent enough to speak? Very well. Hear me well, oh snivelling bear... If you know your master well, you'll know who and where his... "father", is. Go give him a message for me." With deliberate slowness He-who-must-not-be-named brought his face to the still polar bear's ear, speaking in a low voice that Matthew couldn't hear.
"Now go," You-know-who stood and half-heartedly kicked at Kumajiro, watching intently as he hesitantly scurried off on his four legs without looking back.
Canada's shoulders dropped with grief, slumping in his bounds. He hoped that Kuma would be okay, and it hurt him to see the bear leave, but he was glad that he had left... Unfortunately, Canada had a feeling he would be getting no such luck himself.
Quite possibly the most evil wizard to ever live focused his attention on Canada, much to the Northern Nation's discomfort. Matthew ducked his head and looked away, not wanting to see those bloody-red eyes...
Eventually, his need to see what was going on got the best of him, and Canada gathered the courage to sneak-a-peak.
He-who-must-not-be-named grinned sickeningly down at his newly-acquired prisoner. "It is nice to meet you, Alfred Jones, is it?"
Present Time
England
Going into his office, England noticed things amiss almost immediately.
...This wasn't right. Wasn't this book supposed to be here? On the shelf? And why were those lesson plans strewn on the opposite side of his desk from where he had left them last night? There was something... off, about England's office, like someone had been rummaging randomly through his possessions and had done a poor job of putting them back in their proper place.
In a panic, England went to where his portal was concealed, pulling out his wand to check if it had been tampered with. It hadn't. England breathed a sigh of relief and ran his hand through his messy blond hair. At least whoever had been searching in his office likely hadn't discovered his portal, which was his only safe form of communication with the outside world. Whoever had been in here also couldn't have read the reports and notes mailed from Wales, as England had made it a habit to burn documents of such importance as soon as he read them. Still, England didn't take kindly to people meddling with the contents of his office...
He huffed and bared his teeth angrily. He couldn't be sure, but England had a pretty good idea of just who had been responsible for the unauthorised breach of his privacy...
"Dolores," England spat, frustrated at the fact that Umbridge already had free reign of this school and there was nothing he could do about it.
Author's Note (Read Please :3):
Dark Calamity of Princess (on Fanfiction)/SeidooReiki (on DeviantART) has made some SPECTACULAR fan art for this fanfiction! Go support her right now! The temporary cover image I'm using right now is her art. :3 She's so good at drawing sogocheckitoutrightnow :T. XDD
Thanks so much for the many reviews guys! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! I didn't reply to as many reviews this time because I've been busy with this WHOPPING chapter and because my internet has been absolute crap lately...
Wow! My longest chapter yet guise! (There's probably A LOT of typos though... I'm too lazy to do a thorough check-over with something this long... ^^;)
/darn, this chapter was really messy and all over the place... ^^;
(1) A bunch of people probably screamed in delight when they read this XDDD "Yay! Alfred! :D"
(2) Bad Matthew. Don't slam doors in wittle polar bear's faces; they're endangered and it's rude and you might hit their noses. *scolds* (I just love the interaction between Matt and Kuma. Pff, that was fun to write. XD)
(3) Originally, I was considering Australia to be the one who got captured, but that was interfering with one of my head cannons: "It's hard to sneak up on Australia because he's almost always on guard." o3o Sealand was the other option, but I chickened out at the last minute because I JUST CAN'T DO THAT TO SEALAND HE'S TOO CUTE :(
America was ANOTHER option in the early-planning-stage of the fanfic for the one to get captured, but I have other plans for him that require him to be free ;). *shushshush*
Keep the reviews coming guys! It's really making me feel super inspired! *hugs you all* I can't believe I was able to write such a long chapter in such a short period of time. It was all because of you!