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.
America
Where's Matt? He should be here by now... Alfred thought worriedly as he sat twitching and tapping his foot against the floor.
The nations of the world were gathered on either side of a long conference table, with a vast number of chairs to accommodate the near two-hundred bodies that occupied them. Germany sat at the head of the table, as he was the host country for this meeting, as well as the one who usually ended up taking charge with the proceedings anyways.
The meeting was about to start. Almost everyone was here and accounted for, with the exception of a three empty seats... including Matthew's.
The buzz of chatter and conversation died down as Germany loudly cleared his throat, signalling the beginning of the meeting.
No no, we can't start yet! We're still missing some people... Alfred's eyes drifted towards the doors, hoping with all his might that Mattie would walk through them any second...
"Velcome everyvone, sorry for vaking you up so early," said Germany, standing up and holding a stack of papers in his hands. "Vee vill begin today vith our first topic, Global Varming-"
SLAM!
The doors flew open with a loud bang, startling everyone in the room.
"Vat is ze meaning of zis interuption-?" Germany demanded, whipping around to glare murderously at whoever had just barged in.
In contrast to Germany's irritation, Alfred's hopes soared, thinking that Canada had indeed shown his face, albeit a little later than was ideal. This hope crashed and burned when he saw someone other than his mild-mannered brother standing in the door. It was a young boy in a blue and white sailor's outfit, with sandy hair and eyes like the deep ocean. America couldn't quite remember the boy's name... SaltwaterLand or something like that? Peeland? No, wait... that couldn't be it...
"Sealand?" came Sweden's voice dubiously from far down the table.
Right! That was it. Sealand. He had been close.
Something was wrong though. Sealand didn't look... normal. The boy was usually full of energy and generally happy, like most children his age were supposed to act. But now... his hair was tousled, his eyes agitated, his capris scuffed, and he was favouring his left leg, as if his right had been grievously injured.
Germany seemed too shocked to say much more. He was working his jaw with displeasure at the boy's unexpected entrance, but Germany was far from a fool, and could recognize the micro-nation's distress.
"Peter, what is it? What are you doing here?" asked Finland with concern, pushing back his chair to come closer to the shaken boy, Sweden not far behind. "Are you hurt? What's wrong with your leg..."
Sealand's next try at taking another limping step failed, and he shivered and fell into Finland's arms.
"What's wrong with the lad?" called Wales, some others murmuring in agreement and another group not truly paying attention.
"Come on, speak to me Peter," said Sweden in a gentle tone that sounded strange in Sweden's voice.
Like someone coming out of a waking dream, Sealand vigorously shook his head. "We have to hurry!" he gasped with sudden urgency.
"Hurry where, exactly?" drawled Greece tiredly, his head resting on his hand, the dramatic scene unfolding in front of his very eyes hardly sparking his interest.
"I-"
Before Sealand could say anymore or elaborate much further, another figure stepped through the doors behind him. Brown hair and hazel eyes identified him as Australia, with his boomerang out and his body-language twitchy and nervous.
"You would not believe what just happened to me!" The rowdy nation exclaimed. "Here I was, just walking, minding my own business, when-"
A split second after Australia's entry, ANOTHER person followed, considerably larger in stature than the others. It was Russia, and similarly to Australia, he was holding his own personal weapon of choice: a long pipe... that was coated in patches of blood...
The blood on the pipe was fresh.
"Sorry I'm late," said Russia, his face ever a calm and gentle slate.
With alarm America sprang up from his seat, pointing a trembling finger at Russia's gory pipe. "What the hell did you do with that?"
"I just disposed of two men," stated Russia, unashamed. "I stuffed their remains into a dumpster, where they will rest and rot."
...
"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!" America grabbed his head in his hands, Greece had finally drifted off to sleep, The Baltic Nations shrunk into their seats, trying not to cower or show their fear, Italy was meekly waving a white flag, Australia was still miffed that his grand tale had been put on hold, and Germany looked about ready to explode.
"Do you have ANY idea how much paper vork zis means for me?!"
Russia didn't look at all disturbed by the uproar he had caused. "It was only because they tried to kill me first. I figured that it would be rude of me to not return the favour, da?" he explained in his sweet-sounding voice.
Silence.
"Someone... tried to kill you? Why?" said Alfred slowly, trying to process and digest the information that he had just been presented with.
The Russian Federation shrugged his massive and powerful shoulders, his eyes a little flinty. "I do not know. I introduced myself and asked what they were doing, that is all. I'm not even sure how they tried to kill me. It happened so fast. All I know is that one second there is a green flash, and I wake up on the ground."
"Almost the exact same thing happened to me mate," butt in Australia. "Minus the dying part. Did these men, perchance, wear black cloaks?"
"Da," confirmed Russia, his usually unalterable face shifting to a little taken-aback.
"Listen to me!" cried Sealand with a pout. Many countries jumped in their seats with surprise. America nearly had a heart attack; he had forgotten the micro-nation was even there after being caught up in Russia's story.
"There were another two men just like that near this very building," rushed Sealand, with almost the entire world listening avidly and intently for once (excluding a few countries who were not quite as interested). "They're still down there, and Canada's with them!"
As if he had just been tasered with a million volts, America bolted upright and pushed his seat out of the way, striding over to Sealand with purposeful steps.
"What about Matt?" he asked anxiously, eagerly crouching next to Peter with Sweden and Finland; Russia and Australia close by.
"He's still down there," said Sealand, his gleeful and triumphant eyes reflecting the joy he felt at finally being taken seriously for once. "And I think he's in trouble."
"Who are we talking about?"
England
"And that," said England, gesturing to the board where he had roughly sketched maps of Belgium and France, written down a bunch of notes and points on strategies, ammunition and troop numbers, air support, and other factors. "Is how Germany captured France in the Second World War."
The group of Ravenclaw girls all let out one collective sigh in unison, their eyes acquiring a... dreamy quality. Some twirled fingers through their hair and focused on nothing else but him, pleasantly wrapped up in their own thoughts.
England frowned, the gap between his thick eyebrows lessening slightly. "Is something wrong? Are you tired or ill? Or do you not understand and need clarification? I could always go over it again for you..."
"No, no sir," said Alice Baker, blushing for some reason that escaped England. "We just... love to learn about this stuff. It's really... intriguing."
England was in the midst of teaching a History of Magic class to his seventh year Ravenclaws. Ravenclaw was one of the few houses that even had a decent amount of students registered for a seventh year History of Magic course, as the majority of students didn't take the optional NEWT level class for the subject, and even less were qualified enough to take the rigorous history course. Most of the ladies had claimed all of the desks near the front, closest to England, with the boys being forced and shunted to the back of the classroom. Brandee had curled up atop his desk, purring quietly as she slept. The rise and fall of her breathing made her look like her fluffy fur was growing and shrinking.
A girl named raised her hand high in the air, politely waiting to be acknowledged so she could speak.
"Yes? Miss Morris?"
"Professor? Have you ever been to France?"
His answer was evasive. "Once or twice, yes."
"What's it like?"
Immediately an image of France with groping fingers and a rose in his mouth rose up in England's mind like a balloon. He shuddered and reminded himself to calm down, that France was nowhere near here and that there was no way he could get into Hogwarts... With a scowl England began. "France is a twisted country. He needs to lay off the wine, and accept his many failures-"(1)
"Why do you do that, Professor?" said a student at the front, then blushed when she realised that she had just disrespectfully interrupted her teacher.
Crossing his arms, England's face scrunched up in perplexity. "Do what?"
"Why do you sometimes talk about countries like they're alive, like they're people," she elaborated, a little embarrassedly.
It was hard for England to think of something to say. What could he say? It had always been a difficult task for him to think of countries like human beings did; as simple masses of land divided by seas and borders and governments... and now he was paying the price for his errant comment on France being a "he".
Finally, England found the words he needed. "What makes you think a country isn't alive?" he challenged, raising a dark and furry eyebrow. "Perhaps it isn't as alive as you or I, or in just a different way, but it's sort of still alive, though not... a person." Without letting anything on his face show, England's ego winced at the situation requiring him to denounce his own existence.
"But sir, how is that possible?" questioned a Ravenclaw boy from the back of the classroom, having to raise his voice so that his Professor could hear him clearly.
"Haven't you ever walked by the countryside and felt more alive than usual? Or have you ever visited a bustling city and interpreted it as not a collection of buildings and people with different roles, but as a living organism with every individual as part of an organ, working to keep the city and the nation as a whole alive and healthy? Have you ever had the curious impression that you weren't just standing on dead ground, but felt like it was something alive and very much aware? The Earth isn't the same in every single area, and one could argue that its "personality" varies from place to place." With the conclusion of England's little speech, his students just sat quietly and contemplated his words. Inwardly, England congratulated himself on the save, while anxiously wondering at the same time if he should have said anything at all.
"Well, anyway... That was a really long-winded answer to your question. Sorry, my imagination ran amuck, and that has nothing to do with our topic... Ignore the ramblings of a man who needs more sleep," said England jokingly. "To be honest, it's just a slip-of-a-tongue mistake when I talk about countries that way, but at least this way I can sound intelligent about it."
"No no," said the Ravenclaw boy, whose name was Rupert Davis, shaking his head good-naturedly. "I liked it. It may be a theory imbedded in fantasy, but it's fun to imagine countries that way, despite its inaccuracy."
"Well, thank you then," England grit out. It was still hard for him to pretend like he didn't exist... "Now then, If you got all that, we'll move on to the features of German U-boats that made them so deadly in the Atlantic, and then after that we'll try and cover the Battle of Britain..."
Harry
As much as Harry wanted to uncover the truth about Kirkland, it bothered him and Ron like nothing other when Hermione insisted on continually dragging them into her elongated research. What did she even hope to find that she hadn't already? At times Harry felt sure that she must have dove through most of the library's contents at this point. It was hard for him to recall a time when Hermione hadn't had her nose stuck in a book since the day he and Ron had met her.
"He can't be a vampire, not even vampires live that long, two hundred years at best..." muttered Hermione, disgustedly tossing aside a book.
"Maybe he has a Philosopher's stone or something?" suggested Ron, his face dead of all interest as he numbly watched Hermione race through book after book.
Hermione dismissed his idea a little haughtily. "I doubt it, Ron. They are really difficult to make. Besides, the only known one in existence belonged to Nicholas Flamel, and we know that he destroyed it and died at six-hundred and sixty eight. It just doesn't seem conceivable that Professor Kirkland would survive over a thousand years with a Philosopher's Stone..."
Ron sniffed defensively. "It was just an idea."
Feeling like a silent observer, Harry stayed relatively quiet, not thinking of anything to offer in the conversation.
"I think our first guess may be the only possible explanation," said Hermione, placing her head in one hand with her thick and curly brown hair tumbling down. "There must be some kind of undiscovered or forgotten dark magic that he's using. I suppose we could try and check the restricted section but... I don't know how much we'll find."
"Then what was the point of coming down here in the first place," grumbled Ron.
"Harry?" said Hermione hopefully "Anything to add? We're open to anything here."
"Except for my ideas, which are always shot down..." added Ron in a low voice. Hermione ignored him, keeping her eyes on Harry.
Harry began to feel a little foolish. He could think of nothing, and no ideas that could help came to mind. They had run out of clues...
With a sigh, Harry opened his mouth, "Right now, I think we should focus on our classes and the DA. Not only that, but we still haven't figured out how to speak with Sirius."
"...You're right, Harry," agreed Hermione, though not without her share of reluctance. "We have a DA meeting tonight, too. This doesn't mean I'm going to stop looking for the answer though..."
"We wouldn't doubt it, Hermione," said Ron, snorting lightly through his nose.
As Ron spoke, Harry spied Fred and George moving through an aisle not far from their table, which was typically a rare sight. A thought struck him, and with a faint voice so as to not alert and enrage Madam Pince, Harry called them over. Fred and George obliged, sidling over to their table to warmly hail the trio, which in Ron's case involved ruffling his hair into a mess, as was their usual special greeting for him.
"I was just wondering if you two could tell me how you got that alcohol into the school for the dance," Harry said, intently focused on the twins and what they may say.
George raised an eyebrow and flashed his teeth. "Woah there Harry, what for? Don't tell me you're planning on doing the same thing... remember, you're underage." Fred chuckled and winked slyly.
"So are you," Hermione bit back, making George hold his heart melodramatically to emphasise how his feelings had just been hurt... not.
"No no, nothing like that," Harry assured abashedly, shaking his head enough that the fringe of his messy black hair slid back enough to reveal the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead for a span of one second. Maybe I can sneak letters out to Sirius and smuggle them in the same way that Fred and George brought in the liquor...
"Well, in that case," said Fred, leaning against their table. "We used one of the-" he lowered his voice, "-secret passageways from Hogsmeade on that Marauder's Map we gave you two years ago. Remember, we have all the routes completely memorised."
Harry's heart sank at this. It would be extremely difficult for him to use the same methods as the twins to exchange messages with Sirius.
"Oh.. thanks guys," he said, grateful yet disappointed. What am I supposed to do...? I hope Sirius waits...
England
After many millennia of life, England had found that sometimes the best way to get back to sleep after a nightmare was to walk it off. His nightmare hadn't exactly been a vision like some of his others... You-know-who hadn't struck again, thank God for that. The dream had been not unlike any ordinary dream, mostly an uneasy mixture of the occurrences from the past month all blended and molded together into a hallucination that made no sense whatsoever. Still, England had been bothered by it, though he was having difficulty recalling the details after his awakening.
Thus, to clear his mind, England was taking a midnight stroll on the seventh floor with Brandee clumsily scampering after his heels, mewling excitedly as she attempted time after time to pounce on his feet. He was wearing a cloak over his night clothes, so as to not provoke an embarrassing encounter should he by chance run into some of the other staff.
Not for the first time, England was grateful that he wasn't a student, and could wander the halls at will and without restriction. England could remember with vividness the displeasure a nightly curfew had caused him back when he had been a short-time student at this very school, all those years ago.
A silver of light a few feet ahead made England stop in his tracks. A door began to appear in the wall where there had been nothing before and had previously only appeared as a smooth unmarked stone wall. Out of the door tumbled a collection of students; Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws... but no Slytherins. The students began to slink off when they saw England watching bemusedly and stood perfectly still, fear on their faces, like a deer caught in headlights. Lastly, Potter and his closest friends Weasley and Granger exited at the end, dismay blooming on their faces when their gazes landed on England.
The Room of Requirement, England breathed in understanding. But why... what is this lot doing here? And at this hour too...
"Pr-professor!" gasped Ginny Weasley nervously. "This isn't-"
His face a stern mask England strode over through the dumb-struck adolescents without a word, peering his head into the Room of Requirement to see what form it had taken, and therefore what purpose the group had been using it for. There was a low table with quite the arrangement of Dark Detectors, and many books with large titles printed on their sides, most of which were related to the Defence Against Dark Arts...
"Ah," softly uttered Britain in realisation. "Breaking some of Dolores' self-proclaimed rules, are you?"
"Please, sir," pleaded a Hufflepuff, her shining eyes guiltily aimed at the ground. "Don't turn us in... we'll get expelled and we won't pass our exams and-"
"Hush," said England, dark and hairy eyebrows hanging dangerously low over his eyes. "I'm not turning anyone in."
No one spoke at this statement. Relief was the primary emotion on most of their faces, but some students just stared in disbelief. Apparently, some of them hadn't expected such a thing to come out of his mouth.
Harry Potter took a step forward, his voice mystified and even a tad untrusting. "You're... not?"
"No," confirmed England, leaving the group with Brandee still faithfully and diligently close by. "Now, if you excuse me, I think I'm going to try to sleep and forget what I just saw in my chambers..." A sudden impulse occurred to England. He paused, moving his body to face the amassed group again, but speaking directly to Harry. "Just remember, Potter, I know that you and your little club seek more than just knowledge, but wisdom. But I must warn you, wisdom always comes with a price, though it varies between the individuals and circumstances. The price may be too high for you to be willing to pay... Just don't let Umbridge catch you, aye?" With those parting words England departed, leaving the puzzled children behind to sneak back to their common rooms.
America
What in the world have you gotten yourself into Matt...
A group of nations had temporarily excused themselves from the meeting to investigate the claims Sealand had given. It included America, Germany, Australia, New Zealand (who had decided to accompany his brother), Russia, and Ukraine who had come with her brother as well. Belarus would have followed Russia too, to make sure that "Vanya" would be "safe and protected from bad men!", but Russia had nervously insisted that she stay... far away. Ukraine's reasons remained more or less a mystery. They also dared not let anyone else come, or risked drawing attention, though America had a hunch that France wanted to be present for the investigation as well.
"This is where Sealand said he should be..." said America sadly, rapidly moving his head around side to side. Now the six nations were in the alleyway where Sealand had reportedly been attacked.
"I don't see anything," Germany said blandly.
Ukraine looked a little worried, though she hid it well, and Russia's mask of pleasant happiness never differentiated in the slightest. In fact, he almost seemed amused by the whole situation.
"Wait," Australia bent down and crouched, tracing two fingers gently on the pavement. "There was a scuffle here..." New Zealand stood not far from his brother, mildly keeping close to the group and watching for anything coming from behind.
In an instant, America perked up and darted over to Australia, pushing past Russia and Germany. "Where? How do you know?"
"Look there," Australia said quietly, putting his two fingers on a spot. "There's some blood here..."
With a twinge of uneasiness Alfred saw the small droplets and registered that Australia was right...
Uncomfortably, Australia coughed. "It may not be Cana..." he frowned, struggling for just a fraction of second to remember the name. "-da's... It could be from anyone, and judging from the small amount here, I'd say it wasn't that serious of a wound. Still... them being gone... it's not a good sign."
America felt a stir of emotions. Rage, sorrow, concern, anxiety, loss, a lust for retribution...
Before he knew it, a fraction of a dumpster, specifically the lid and a corner, had been kicked out of the alleyway and into the main streets.
"America!" scolded Germany, reminding America for an uncomfortable moment of Arthur. "There's no need for zat. Property damage is not the vay to react! Calm and control yourself. Now, zis is a serious issue, rarely has something like zis happened before, and right under our noses! Vee need to inform the others that the meeting is adjourned for security reasons-"
Germany's voice was a dull warble at the back of Alfred's head, he hardly discerned anything that the robust nation said.
Hang on bro... wherever you are.
Author's Note:
The epic cover for this fanfiction was once again done by the vunderful and talented Dark Calamity of Princess (on Fanfiction)/SeidooReiki (on DeviantART). DIDN'T SHE DO AMAZING FFFFFFFF X3
(1)Reference to the anime dub, when France proposes to England XDD
... derp, notzing much to say heeeere XDD (Fer once). OH, VAIT! (MY TYPED STEREO-TYPICAL GERMAN ACCENT SUCKS XDD)
REVIEW PLEEEEASSSE! And my love goes out to those who already have before! You guise are the reason I was able to update so fast (though it's mostly just a filler XDD)
Edit: Ya ya I knowz I didn't go over a punishment for the twins, but that will be touched on in the next chapter. Also, I never said anything about the twins getting punished in the first place, you lot just assumed so XDD