North American Hurricane (Hetalia)

Author: Ashynarr

Summary: In the same vein as Bunnies For Your Amusement, I now bring you my collection of oneshots and short stories featuring the North American twins, America and Canada! Now including non-LJ drabbles.

Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine.

Warning: Random Shit, Bros Being Bros, Human AU, fem!England

Title: The Witch's Son

((based off of ashynarr()tumblr()com/post/63329184891/viria-oncel erfuckingmagic-beastlyart))

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Alfred was born, as all witches' children were, on the night of a full moon. His mother, Elizabeth, greeted him not with the soft coos of new mothers, but with the whispered words of their old heritage, encouraging that trickle of fey blood within them that never diluted over the generations. Not even an hour passed since his birth before his first taste of magic, for his mother was never one to let herself be weakened by something as simple as childbirth.

Growing up proved a challenge, as the magic of the Old World Elizabeth had left behind upon learning of her pregnancy did not come easily to her son, despite his constant practice. She suspected, but never stated, that his magic was simply not like hers. Being a prideful woman, she refused to let this stop her from training him in all the old ways, harsh reprimands and soft encouragements alike leading him along.

She should have suspected when his talents started heavily leaning towards potion making, but she dismissed it as the usual variances of talent, despite her line having never been good with the skill. He quickly reached her level, then quietly surpassed her, although neither would dare ever utter the knowledge aloud.

Alfred started carving charms at eight. Elizabeth first caught him at thirteen, by which point he already could perfectly create dozens of different sorts of charms for a wide variety of needs. She called them fake magics, throwing them out and burning the half-completed ones to dust before his eyes.

The shouting match that resulted lasted half the day, and caused Alfred to storm off for weeks before returning exhausted but with several rare herbs he swore he'd been pointed to by local spirits. Several of them even turned out to be better then the plants they'd been carefully cultivating and preserving for years.

Afterwords there was always a sort of tension between them, one that neither was willing to break. Alfred still practiced his mother's magics dutifully, if quietly and sometimes sullenly, and Elizabeth pretended not to notice the charms hidden away in drawers or the times he would whisper to beings she could only half-see.

When he was seventeen, he met Matthew for the first time, not realizing what the simple meeting would lead to.

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Matthew was the son of a business man in the nearby town, and a face that until their meeting he'd only glimpsed out of the corner of his eye while on his run for the supplies he and his mother could not get for themselves another way. Alfred knew better than to draw attention to himself, knowing only bad things could happen if he were to be found out by the locals.

However, avoiding attention was difficult when you were barreled into straight on, and Alfred was no exception, sent sprawling to the ground along with the unfortunate person to run into him.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was running-" The other young man apologized, running his head while he picked himself up.

"It's alright, no harm done." Alfred told him, picking himself up as well and dusting himself off before grabbing the strewn supplies he'd been carrying.

"I'd offer to make it up to you, but I'm in a bit of a hurry..."

"I'll be fine, just don't run into anyone else, alright?"

"Thank you." Alfred was flashed a small smile that made his stomach turn, before the young man took off down the street again, Alfred's gaze following after.

Shaking his head once he realized what he was doing, he turned to make his way back home only to stop upon seeing a piece of paper on the ground that hadn't been there before. Perhaps the other person had dropped it without realizing it? If so he'd have to return it, lest it be something important. A quick glance at the paper, however, made him pause.

It seemed to be an instruction list, which included the consumption of several compounds he knew were toxic or inert. What was the person who wrote this thinking? Anyone who followed this would be dead within a month!

"Oh no, oh no, where is it-" The familiar voice sounded behind him, even more panicked that before. Alfred turned to him as the other approached, the other's deep blue eyes filling with relief on seeing the scrap of paper in his hand. "You found it! I don't know what I'd do if I lost that."

"What's it for?" Alfred asked as he handed the paper over. "If it's not prying, I mean."

"My father's fallen ill. The doctor gave me these instructions to help him recover, so they're very important."

Alfred knew, had been told all his life, not to draw attention to himself by calling out the blubbering idiots that most doctors were, even if he knew more about healing than they could even hope to. But the knowledge that that piece of paper would kill a person and make the person in front of him cry was enough to override that ingrained caution.

"If they're supposed to help, then why are half the things on here toxic?"

The other stared at him. "What?"

Alfred pointed to several of the listed items. "These things here will kill someone if they consume too much of it, and the rest of them can't cure a thing."

"How would you know that?"

The accusatory look was met with an exasperated one. "I got sick a lot as a kid, and my mother couldn't afford a doctor, so she had to take care of me herself. She learned a lot about how the local plants work, and taught me in case she got ill herself. What's ailing your father?"

"...a heavy fever and harsh coughing."

Alfred hummed. "There's two plants that you'll need. The black, ripe berries off the elderberry bushes, pulped and boiled, will make the cough go away if he drinks a bowl every morning and evening, and grinding up feverfew leaves to add to it will break the fever."

"How do I know I can trust you? Everyone knows elderberries are witch plants."

"You don't."

The young man gave him a long look. "...I'll consider what you said." Then he turned and left, disappearing down the street.

Alfred watched him go, quietly wishing the man well, before turning and heading home.

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AN: Been doing some drabbling lately for the month of Halloween. Expect a few other things in a couple days. Also, I am working on the Hero Training rewrite, I just had to deal with midterms. Bleh.