Pottertalia AU (Crossover with Harry Potter)-Slytherin! England and Beauxbatons! France

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter. The main Characters belong to Himaruya Hidekaz and the world plus a few background characters to J. K. Rowling.

After everything that had transpired in the last three years since The Boy Who Lived Harry Potter had begun his magical education, Headmaster Dumbledore's newest plan was somehow tame and insane at the same time.

Three years ago, their Defence Against the Dark Arts professor with He Who Must Not Be Named on the back of his head attempted to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. Two years ago, the Chamber of Secrets was reopened and petrified multiple students while the DADA teacher turned out to be a fraud (unsurprisingly, seeing as he was incompetent beyond reasoning). And just last year Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban with the objective to kill Harry Potter. He'd even gotten into the Gryffindor Third Years' Dorm, despite Dementors patrolling Hogwarts grounds, and the DADA teacher was revealed as a werewolf at the end of the year.

With these hectic few years, you'd think a normal headmaster would try and ensure that the learning environment would be as average as possible. Not Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Greatest Wizard of his Time with a dozen titles, though. Instead, the Professor opted to recreate one of the most dangerous tournaments in Wizarding History, the Triwizard Tournament.

Never mind the fact that it was Arthur's seventh year and he just wanted peace. His O. W. L. year had been spent fearing for his fellow students' lives (he was a pure-blooded Slytherin. He was safe.) and then exams got cancelled. He, the other fifth years and the N. E. W. T. students of that school year were forced to take them during summer. Now with Harry Potter in any vicinity of danger things were bound to get messy.

But among all things, Arthur's biggest worry were the foreign students. Unlike the rest of his house, he did not particularly care for the Durmstrang students. They were rowdy and loud. The Beauxbatons students, on the other hand…

Honestly, what should he have expected. As a proper English wizard, he'd been raised to think of the French, muggle and magical folk alike, as prissy pansies. Somehow they'd gone and proved him right on all accounts. Especially that one, Francis Bonnefoy. The Frog had begun talking to him on the day of their arrival and if Arthur hadn't learnt to tell normal people apart from those with Veela blood, he would have bet he was at least half. No way could a wizard or witch be this impossibly beautiful. But it was just another of the billion things driving him crazy about the French wizard.

They were in the same year and Arthur had never met someone as pretentious or annoying or- he was running out of insults. And he wouldn't quit flirting with whomever he came across! (Above fifth year at least.) See? He was doing it again! Chatting up a sixth year Ravenclaw girl this time, right in front of him in the middle of the library. She twirled a lock of her brown hair and gave a bashful expression.

Fra The Frog was flamboyant, insufferable and far too handsome French for his own good.

Arthur was painfully aware that despite his best efforts at repressing his feelings, he'd developed a crush. Besides nerve-grating flirtatiousness and his tendency to tease him, Francis was also a kind, helpful, big-hearted individual with criminally good looks. It wasn't as though he stood a chance with amazingly gorgeous girls and boys of all three competing schools, whereas he was "plain with the ugliest eyebrows ever created"-as said by Francis himself, which didn't help at all. Why did everyone have to pick on his eyebrows? He'd even tried using different magical products to thin them, but no luck whatsoever. Arthur suspected his experimentation had actually worsened their state.

He wasn't surprised when search fever for a partner for the Yule Ball broke out and nobody thought to ask him. Neither was he particularly inclined to go to the dance. At least it gave him reason not to go home. He wouldn't be able to get any reading and studying done with his older brothers nearby.

Studying. Great starting point. Potions assignment. He was searching for books. That's why he was in the library to begin with. Arthur backed into the nearest aisle.

"Arthur!" Too late. Francis had spotted him already.

"I was looking for you all day!"

"Why would you?" Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"Do you have a date yet?"

"…Date?"

"For the ball, of course!" Wonderful. Even if he pretended he had a date, Francis would figure it out easily. Immediately followed by taunts, and it didn't take a genius to understand several would jab at Arthur's eyebrows.

"I'm not going."

"What?" Francis seemed shocked. "Isn't it mandatory?"

"I'll show up for ten minutes, get a drink, and leave. You don't need to have a date."

"But why? Dances are fun!" Why was the Frog so interested in him going to the bloody ball? He had no reason to, and that was exactly what Arthur told him.

"Besides, who are you going with?" Maybe his question would throw Francis off and he would leave him alone.

"No one yet." Seriously? Francis had to be taking the mickey out of him.

"So you haven't been asked by anyone yet?" Arthur was using sarcasm. Obviously.

"I have. I just don't want to go with any of them."

"Well, who do you want to go with?" Francis' melodramatic sigh gnawed on his nerves.

"I had someone in mind, but he doesn't seem interested in the dance." He? That was a bit more noteworthy.

"Ah, who is it?" Arthur was just humouring him at that point, and it was evident. He didn't like Francis' sly smirk, however.

"You." Arthur spluttered at that word.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" The Frog seemed genuinely curious. "You asked me. I wanted to know if you had a date because I would like to be yours."

"As if. Stop joking."

"But I'm not." Francis' expression turned slightly hurt.

"Really?" No Arthur. Don't be hopeful. And for the love of Merlin, don't give off the impression that you're eager., Arthur thought to himself.

"Yes! And? Will you go with me?" Arthur was still hesitant. While the Frenchman appeared to mean it, he was also a brilliant actor.

"Um… okay?"

"Great! I'll see you at the ball, then?" Francis smiled warmly. Arthur tried to ignore the beating in his chest.

"Yes." Francis pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Bye, Arthur!"

"Bye, Frog." He couldn't keep it to himself. But the moment Francis sped through the library, past Hermione Granger and Viktor Krum (huh?) and got chastised by Madam Pince, Arthur pressed his hand to where Francis' lips had touched his skin.

Apparently, he would be going to the blasted Yule Ball. Maybe he'd even enjoy it.