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Chapter Text

Owl Post: Prologue

Shortly before midnight on the 30th July 1993, while Harry Potter silently attempted to finish his homework, England was sleeping. He had had a good Friday. In the morning he had baked some scones for himself and Hong Kong (which his ward had refused, claiming he wasn't hungry, only to fry himself an egg five minutes later.) He had received a present from Japan which made him smile and then left the house early enough to walk to work. He had had a pleasant chat with his queen and could leave work an hour early. At home he had finished his scones with a nice cuppa, watched Doctor Who reruns and had retired to bed early with a good book. He didn't know that at some point that night a rat received the worst news in its abnormally long life in form of a balding read haired wizard frantically talking to his wife.

Chapter Text

Aunt Marge's Big Mistake

"Hey Teach, I'm heading out!" Words Li Xiau Wang's guardian knew all too well.

Putting down the Daily Prophet, England let out a sigh.

"Be back before midnight, Leon." He reminded him.

"But I'm 150!" The young nation protested.

England's eyes pointedly travelled from the teen's hairline to the soles of his boots and back up.

"Fiiiiine..."

With that last remark Hong Kong stomped out of the door, leaving England in only the company of Sirius Black's deranged smile on the coffee table.

Leon had barely closed the door behind him when a tapping started on the window to Arthur's left. Sighing he got up from his place on the sofa to let in the owl he had been dreading since he had received the Daily Prophet this morning.

A bit more than a year ago he had written a letter to Hogwarts, offering his services in protecting the boy who lived, after reports of him being targeted by Voldemort himself at Hogwarts had reached him. No one there knew that he was England. But the name Kirkland fortunately held power in the British Wizarding World like no other. Not even Malfoy or Dumbledore.

But now, being faced with the inevitable, he'd rather continue with his normal life, thank you very much.

The owl flew through the window as soon as Arthur had opened it wide enough. With a squawk it dropped a letter in his hand and perched on a cupboard. Facing up was a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, a snake, a badger and an eagle surrounding a large letter 'H'.

Letter clasped in hand (it wouldn't do to open here were people not in the know, or worse yet, America, might see it) Arthur marched down to his secret magic room. The owl followed.

Once there he opened the letter, still regretting his offer to help.

Despite being aware that he was needed, England dreaded spending a whole year with only humans. Even as wizards they were just too young to really understand him.

The front of the letter simply read

Arthur Kirkland

England

in emerald green letters.

He had never told any wizard his address (and would keep it that way until bloodlines didn't assure a high influence in their government anymore) and assured them that the owls would find him that way (after all the owls knew who he really was).

Finally he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, resigning to the fate he had cursed himself with.

It read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order Of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc.,

Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International

Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Kirkland.

We are pleased to inform you that this coming term there is an opening of two teaching positions at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

As you have expressed interest in a teaching position in the past we think you should be allowed to choose which of the two positions you would like to take up in the future.

The options are:

Professor for Care Of Magical Creatures

Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts

Term begins on 1 September. We await your decision as soon as possible in order to fill both positions accordingly.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Two positions, huh? He could... he could work with that. It might mean to let another human into the nations' secret, but considering he was a wizard unbreakable vows were always an option. Besides, if Voldemort was really returning to power, it would be beneficial to be able to support and be supported by his biggest adversary. He shuddered as he remembered the last wizarding war. It had done a number on his health due to the magic involved.

So he had to convince Dumbledore to accept more nations into Hogwarts that year so he could a) form an alliance with Dumbledore's 'secret' order and b) keep his sanity while doing so.

An impatient sounding squawk brought his attention back to the owl. Quickly he walked over to one of the shelves in the room to fetch writing utensils.

It didn't take long to compose a letter to Dumbledore requesting a meeting to discuss the terms of his teaching position. England did not mention his preference in the response. He had to make sure the second position would remain open because he knew exactly who he wanted to fill that position.

The owl flew off as soon as he had tied the letter to it’s foot.

Contacting his fellow nations was luckily easier than sending owls, since they knew how to use a phone. Something England was very glad about.

He called Norway first, no need to get Romania excited if Lukas was against it.

It turned out that all Arthur had to do was mention Voldemort and the wizarding war to get the former Viking to agree.

He was one of his closest friends after all and due to being one of the few nations actively practicing magic had stood by England's side when he had to suffer under Voldemort.

Lukas even volunteered his brother Emil to join them, as he had been teaching Iceland magic anyway and thought a school setting wouldn't hurt (aaaand they HAD to spend some time together there).

Arthur's next call went to Romania.

But it wasn't Romania who answered the phone.

"Unchi Milen^[1] !" A young voice shouted excitedly down the line.

"No, sorry, this is uh... Arthur Kirkland," England apologized.

He heard shuffling as the phone was passed over.

"Bună ziua aceasta este Vasilica Lupei²." Ah, that voice he knew.

"Hello Romania, it's England."

"Oh, Arthur! Sorry for my brother usually Bulgaria calls around this time to wish him good night."

"Right, you have a brother now... That might complicate things..."

"What is it?"

"There is trouble in my wizarding world again." Arthur confessed. "Rumour has it that Voldemort is gaining power and now his biggest supporter, the man who betrayed the Potters, has broken out of Azkaban."

"What can I do to help?" Arthur was surprised by the determination in his friend's tone so he continued.

"My original plan was to get you, Norway and me teaching positions at Hogwarts by letting Dumbledore know who we really are so that he sees our value in a possibly upcoming wizarding war. But if you have to take care of your brother I understand. Norway suggested Iceland to come along, and I could ask Hong Kong and maybe one of my brothers..."

"Nu, nu, nu,³ I'll come along! Luca can stay with Milen, right?"

"Da⁴!" Moldova could be heard in the background.

"He's been looking after him a lot anyway. I'll call him now and ask and then I'll call you back when Luca is in bed, da?"

"That sounds good." Arthur smiled. "Talk to you later then."

"Pa5."

It didn't take long for Romania to call him back to tell him that his brother would be looked after by Bulgaria so he was free to go to Hogwarts and would gladly do so to help Arthur fight against Voldemort this time.

Now there was only one nation left to ask… and he should be coming home very soon.

Soon.

Arthur fell asleep while waiting in his favourite armchair. One of the first Winchesters. Of course the upholstery and the Leather and the frame had all been replaced over time but he was proud to say that he owned a genuine collectors piece.

One minute before midnight the door opened and Hong Kong walked in. England jolted awake and could immediately smell the alcohol and something a little stronger on the boy. He could work with that. A smile, so fake it would have given any sober person the creeps grew on England’s face.

"Leon, you are friends with Iceland, correct?" He questioned the teen.

"Emil? Yeah, he's cool... "

Was that a blush? Never mind.

"How would you like to go to magic school with him for a while?"

"But I don't know any magic and Ice is already petty advanced," Leon whined, "He's gonna make me look stupid!"

Still so much resistance? Respect, Hong Kong, respect.

"That won't be a problem. Yao has been asking for you to visit for a while and teaching you enough magic to come with us to Hogwarts would be a perfect opportunity. And if you're not completely caught up we can blame it on the difference in systems!"

"So you want the 北佬⁶ to teach me magic?" Leon asked incredulously.

"Yes,” his guardian confirmed. “Intensive training for about a month so you can join us at Hogwarts. If you agree I will pretend not to notice that you are… intoxicated." England bargained.

Hong Kong looked sheepish. He seemed to have thought he'd get away with it.

“Deal,” he eventually agreed.

"Good. Off to bed now, we'll go shopping tomorrow and I'll call Yao and book the next flight to China."

With that he dismissed Hong Kong who stumbled up the stairs and fell into bed.

It was 7:15 at Yao's house now. A reasonable time to call the old nation.

"喂, 这是王耀⁷." England actually spoke enough Chinese to be able to keep up a conversation in it, but sadly not at nearly one AM. Also his Cantonese was much better than his Mandarin Chinese by now. So he answered Yao's simple greeting in English.

"Hello China, this is England. Remember how we talked about Hong Kong moving in with you in a couple of years?"

"Why would I forget, opium?!" China spat out harshly. Not in a good mood then.

"Yes, yes, well, I was thinking how about if he visited you over the next month and you teach him some magic?"

Yao wasn't having that. "What do you really want?" he asked, suspicion tinting his voice.

England winced ar being caught so easily.

"I want you to give him a month long crash course in Chinese school magic up to the level of a 16 year old so he can join me in Hogwarts this year."

"I will do it if you give Hong Kong back in 1996!"

"1998! Harry Potter will be in Hogwarts until then." Arthur pleaded.

"1997 is my last offer or I won't do it."

"Fine, fine.” England could tell he was serious. “He'll be on the next flight to China, I'll call you back to tell you when and where it lands."

A call to Heathrow later he had booked a flight that left at 3 in the morning towards Beijing. He called Yao back, packed a suitcase with basic necessities for his ward and apparated to The Leaky Cauldron to meet up with him there.

Together they took a cab to Heathrow and Arthur saw Leon off. He then took a cab back home and slept on the sofa (sleeping in his bed would feel a little too awkward) until he was woken up at half past seven.

He ate the breakfast that was left for him on the table and planned his and Leon's shopping trip to Diagon Alley later that day.

First they would have to go to Gringotts…

At about eleven thirty Leon shuffled down the stairs and began brewing a strong mate tea. It took him a while to realise that Arthur was sitting at the kitchen table reading a newspaper.

"Shouldn't you be at work? I thought I heard you leave this morning." He asked, confusion clear on his face.

"First, it's Sunday and second I actually am at the office right now, believe it or not." Arthur replied with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Oooookay, sure," Hong Kong replied, casting a longing gaze at the still brewing tea. "I can't help but feel like I'm missing something here."

"Do you remember what we talked about last night?" Arthur asked him, full well knowing that he wouldn't remember a word of it.

"We… talked?" Leon frowned, trying to remember.

"It had to do with Iceland~," he teased.

"What about him," Leon asked, trying to lean his arm behind him on the counter, missing and ending up crossing his arms in front of his body. Smooth.

"You and him will be joining Lukas, Vasilica and me at Hogwarts this year," Arthur informed him smiling, "So for the next month Yao will teach you Chinese school magic up to a 16 year old's level. Which means the two of us will go shopping for school supplies today and then you will fly to Beijing."

By now Leon's eyes were almost falling out of his skull.

"And I agreed to that?"

"Indeed you did. I already packed a few toiletries and clothes for you, anything else you need you have to put in a backpack and take with you to Diagon Alley, the magic shopping district here in London. We're leaving in one and a half hours. And Please. Take a shower, will you?"

Exactly one hour and 40 minutes later Leon came running down the stairs with his backpack flung over one shoulder. Arthur rolled his eyes, grabbed him by the arm and apparated them into the Leaky Cauldron before Leon had even caught his breath.

The pub was fully packed now and they drew some stares because of their clothes but as they clearly possessed magic – as was evident by Arthur's apparition – people soon lost interest.

They continued out of the back door into a small courtyard. Leon wasn't really impressed until Arthur drew his wand and tapped the wall with it. The wall shifted to reveal the entrance of Diagon Alley and Leon let out a gasp.

"Welcome," said Arthur, "to my wizarding world."

He grinned at Hong Kong's amazement but had to grasp him by the arm and pull him onto the street so the wall wouldn't close on him. They hurried along past Potage's Cauldron Shop, Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, Eeylop's Owl Emporium, Broomstix, Madame Malkin's Robes for all Occasions, Amanuensis Quills and many more. Leon tried not to stare because it made him feel seriously uncool but he really couldn't help it. He knew that England, China and some others practiced magic, hell, his best friend was even learning it right now, but he had never seen someone live with magic.

Nations lived as normal people because they had jobs in the normal government (He seriously had to find a better word than normal because that implied that everyone else – himself included – was some sort of freak).

But here magic was everywhere. It waited the tables at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, it advertised the books at Flourish and Blotts and it held the young animals in front of the Magical Menagerie in place.

Eventually they reached the end of the street. Here a snowy-white building towered over the other little shops. In front of it a small, vaguely human shaped being stood guard.

"Is that-" Hong Kong started.

“A goblin, yes. Now come along." Arthur interrupted him. Hong Kong was rushed up the stairs of the building; a bank as he'd later would discover. The goblin, that now bowed to them, was  about a head shorter than Japan. After they had made their way through the first doors, which had been bronze they came to a pair of silver doors with a warning on them.

Enter stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn,

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure here.

Another pair of goblins stood guard here, making sure that they read the warning before they were bowed through the doors. After the doors a vast marble hall awaited them.

While Leon was still taking it all in Arthur made a beeline towards a goblin behind a counter and demanded "The Kirkland Vault"

"Key please", said the goblin in a monotone without looking up from his paperwork.

"It doesn't have a key. How many times do you want to play this game with me?", Arthur snapped, tapping his foot impatiently.

The goblin looked up and grinned/sneered at them. "Right this way, Sir Kirkland."

They followed him towards one of the doors leading out of the hall. The goblin held the door open for them and Leon could see a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downwards and there were little railway tracks on the floor. The goblin whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks towards them. They climbed in and were off. The ride seemed to take forever. The air around them was cooling down rapidly.

Hong Kong wondered why one of the first vaults that had to have been built here was so far down, but the answer to that probably included magic. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the cart came to a stop. They climbed out and stood on a ledge in front of a cave wall. In the middle was a piece of wall that looked polished smooth but otherwise did not look like a door, it didn't have handles, key holes or hinges.

Yet Leon had no doubt that England and his brothers could open it.

The goblin bowed and gestured for Arthur step up to the door. When he touched it it felt less like the door was moving and more like the British Isles moving around it to reveal a chamber heaped with gold, silver and bronze. Additionally there were shelves packed with artefacts, some of which looked ancient even in nations' time frames.

England walked over to one of the shelves and put something necklace-like into the front pocket of his jacket.

Next he grabbed two handfuls of gold, silver and bronze each and put them into a pouch at his belt. Then he cast a calculating glance at Hong Kong and grabbed some more gold coins. With a final nod Arthur ushered Hong Kong back out onto the ledge where the goblin was still waiting and behind him the isles fell back into place around the door again.

They drove the magic lorry back up and Leon had to blink a few times before he got used to the sun again. Arthur seemed to have dismissed the goblin already, as he was rolling his eyes now and dragged his still stunned companion out onto the shopping street again.

"Let's get your wand first, it will probably take the longest." England declared.

Hong Kong perked up at this. He remembered Iceland telling him how Norway had dragged him out into the woods to spend days there searching for a wanding tree and the fitting cores to then have him craft his own wand per hand. He doubted that England would have him do that today.

He followed Arthur to a shop that declared 'Ollivanders: Makers of fine wands since 382 BC'. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. Keeping up his general impatient behaviour England pushed Hong Kong away from the window and through the door.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair. Leon felt strangely as though he had entered a world meeting seconds after Germany had called for order; he swallowed a lot of new questions which he had wanted to ask Arthur and instead looked at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling.

He was struggling to keep the nagging thoughts of 'what if none of them fit?' at bay. Emil had had to build his own wand. Did Arthur think just because Hong Kong wasn't really a whole country he should be satisfied with a lesser wand?

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice that made Hong Kong jump.

England, of course, had felt his citizen approaching. "Mr. Ollivander," he greeted the man.

"Now what is a Kirkland doing in my humble store? I heard you pass your wands down every generation. Repairs, perhaps?" The old man standing before them asked, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"You offer those!?” England’s eyes seemed at risk to fall out of his skull for a second before he composed himself again. “I mean… no, not directly”, he continued, “though I may have to ask you to take a look at my wand later. But primarily we're here for my ward to get his first wand. He is to learn Chinese Magic from his brother but as a British citizen I can not allow him to leave without an Ollivander's wand."

So that's what it was about? Patriotism? Leon bit back sigh.

"I see," the man said, pale eyes beginning to twinkle with interest, "Well then, let's measure you, shall we?" He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket.

"Hold out your wand arm. That's it."

He measured Hong Kong from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, round his head, between his nostrils and other places. When he was finished he frowned at his tape and did it again. "Curious. Very curious," he said to himself, "but we shall see…"

Leon turned to Arthur who didn't seem bothered at all by this so he faced Mr. Ollivander again.

The old man had put a finger on his chin and tapped it thrice before darting over to a nearby shelf.

"Try this one," he said when he came back, "Applewood and unicorn hair. Seventeen inches. Quite whippy. Just take it and give it a wave."

Leon took the wand but he had barely lifted it when Mr. Ollivander already snatched it away.

"No, no, no, not at all." He placed the wand back in it's box and put it aside, running off again, this time to a shelf further away and came back with another wand.

"Beechwood and phoenix feather. Sixteen inches. Springy. Try it."

Hong Kong raised the wand and… the shop's windows exploded. England quickly fixed them with a wave of his own wand (Mr. Ollivander seemed quite interested in it) and Hong Kong just as quickly put the wand back into the box.

"Holly and dragon heartstring. Sixteen inches. Nice and supple. Go on."

Carefully he took the wand out of its box. This time it gave off a few blue sparks that scorched the floorboards. Something must have gone right as Mr. Ollivander kept passing him wands with a dragon heartstring core now. Hong Kong kept trying different woods that kept getting shorter until finally:

"Dogwood. Dragon heartstring. 12 1/2 inches. Quite Bendy."

Leon took the wand. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and white sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light onto the walls. Turning to England he could briefly see a proud smile.

Mr. Ollivander seemed completely overcome with joy. "Dogwood! Who would have thought! I hope to hear from you in the future, young man!"

Hong Kong bit back the 'I'm older than you'. Actually, thinking about it, he wasn't so sure about that. The man seemed really old AND he was a wizard. They tended to be longer lived than ordinary humans. Huh.

With a wave of his own wand Mr. Ollivander sent the discarded wands back to their shelves. Then he looked at Arthur, almost hopefully.

"Err…" The personification of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland was suddenly flustered. Leon looked up from his new wand to follow the exchange. "What sort of repairs do you offer?"

"Oh, everything from mending cracks and polishing scratches to replacing cores or wood, really." Mr. Ollivander told him excitedly.

"None… None of the latter two, please. But… it does have some scratches and one or two cracks, err…" he looked off to the side.

Mr. Ollivander hurried behind his desk and took out a repair kit while Arthur stepped up to it. He held out his two coloured wand and Mr. Ollivander gently took it from him, using a cloth as not to touch it directly.

"I never thought I would ever hold one of the legendary Kirkland wands," he breathed, while holding it up to the light.

"A handle of ashwood and a tip of acacia. Do you know the core?"

"Unicorn hair in the handle and dragon heartstring in the tip... At least that's what I've been told when it was passed on to me." Arthur quickly added.

"Very curious for such an old wand. Very curious indeed."

"Legend… says that fairies helped my… Ancestors… gather the materials to craft the family wands." He explained.

"Is that so?" Mr. Ollivander asked, now carefully working on the wand. "Then, if you get the chance, you should ask those fairies about the properties of different woods and cores." He held the repaired wand back towards Arthur who took it and turned it in his hand.

"And then I hope you visit Ollivander's again when your wand needs repairs done in the future," he smiled at him with a twinkle in his eyes.

A bit confused Arthur paid the man for his services and Leon's wand. He would definitely have to talk to the fairies about this.

"I haven't shopped for Hogwarts in an eternity," Arthur confessed once they were outside, "Not since... Never mind. The thing is, most of the stores are specialised here and there is only one for each thing you may need. But look at this. There are at least five clothes shops in this street and I have no idea which would sell Hogwarts robes."

"Ask?" Leon suggested.

"Too suspicious. Ollivander already sounded like he knew something. I should have been in Hogwarts myself not too long ago and you look like a sixth year!" England ranted.

"'Robes for all occasions'" Leon read from a sign.

"What?"

He pointed at the store and shrugged. It seemed to be good enough for his current mentor as he marched over and entered the shop.

Seconds after Hong Kong had followed him a voice asked: "Hogwarts?"

"Yes." Leon confirmed.

"Which house?"

"I am exchange student, aru." Hong Kong quickly said, imitating the heavy accent Yao usually put on.

"No problem, dear." The witch reassured him, and lead him to a footstool in the back of the shop. On a similar stool next to him stood a blonde witch with a dreamy look on her face.

After a few moments she looked over to Leon and asked "Aren't you a bit too old to start Hogwarts?"

"Exchange Student," he offered again.

To his utter confusion she giggled and said "Not what I meant."

However it turned out she was done being fitted tough, as the robes she was wearing disappeared and were replaced with what Hong Kong assumed were her street clothes (an almost hilarious combination of colours and patterns but for some reason it worked for her) and she hopped from the stool. She paid for her clothes and on her way out waved at England who looked after her, utterly confused. Now it was Hong Kong's turn to be fitted.

Black robes appeared over his t-shirt and jeans combo, and with a swish of the tailor's wand it was pinned to the right lengths. While she worked the witch explained that certain parts of the uniform would change colour once he had been sorted into a house on his first day at Hogwarts. When the tailor was done working her magic the robes disappeared from over his normal clothes and were used as the template for Leon's three sets of school robes that soon drifted over to the counter that Leon approached with Arthur after climbing from the stool.

They payed for the robes that were a bit expensive because they had larger patches of colour changing material than the ones of a eleven-year-old would have had.

When they left the store with an enchanted bag to carry Leon happened to glance on his watch and was a little surprised at what he saw.

"Um, teach, when did you say my plane was leaving? It's already pretty late and we were only in two stores so far."

Arthur chuckled. "Don't worry about it, I know you'll make it," he reassured him. He sounded confident enough for Leon to drop the subject entirely.

Their next stop was to buy parchment and quills which Leon thought was ridiculous but Arthur told him that this was "just how those wizards worked" and that they "all had to deal with this bloody crap so suck it up" so he decided to pretend to be in a historic action movie and that made the whole thing cooler. (What? The whole wizard thing had gotten old quite quickly. Then again…) "Can I have a racing broom?"

"No."

"Why not!?"

"You don't even know how to fly!"

A group of girls nearby started giggling and Leon got red and quickly walked away from the broom shop. Arthur pulled him back by the collar of his shirt when he was about to hurry past the bookshop Flourish and Blotts.

"Ack!" He turned around to accuse Arthur of… 150-year-old-abuse or something, but caught him staring horrified at something in the shop window.

"Am I glad that I'm not doing this," Arthur whispered and shook out of his trance.

A heavy knocking was heard on the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Come in," the white haired professor called, putting aside the quill and parchment he had been using to compose an answer for his potential new Defence Against The Dark Arts or Care Of Magical Creatures professor.

An incredibly big man made his way through the door with some difficulty.

"Ah, Hagrid," the old headmaster smiled.

"'Ello, professor Dumbledore, sir." The half-giant greeted. "I was wonderin' if…"

"If I have received word from Mr. Kirkland yet?"

"Yes, sir." Hagrid nodded and looked down.

"Indeed I have, but he has only asked for a meeting and not specified which position he would like to fill, I'm sorry. But I've added the book you recommend to the list for all classes, it sounds like a wonderful addition to the subject! I bet whoever takes this position will be very happy to work with it."

"Thank you, professor," The game keeper said and Dumbledore could see him smile behind his wild black beard. He really hoped that his former student and current friend would get to teach the subject he was so passionate about, but he had to get Kirkland into the school, Harry Potter absolutely needed all the protection he could get and Kirkland would be a promising member for the order if he turned out to be absolutely trustworthy.

After Hagrid had left Dumbledore went back to writing his answer to the latest Arthur Kirkland. He had known an Arthur Kirkland before the whole Grindelwald affair. Dumbledore didn't know if this was still the same man but the one he remembered was a good person - if a bit hard to get along with.

Speculating would get him nowhere though, so he resolved to asking the man he would hopefully meet tomorrow himself, finished up the letter and put it in an envelope that he sealed with the Hogwarts crest. He sent it with the same faithful Hogwarts owl back to

Arthur Kirkland

England

England pushed Hong Kong, who was the one staring at the LIVING-BOOKS-HOLY-SHIT now, into the bookstore. They approached a shop assistant who eyed them warily.

"How may I help you?" He asked and Leon would swear he saw him cross his fingers behind his back.

"We need a set of books for this terms sixth year at Hogwarts as well as each year's DADA books," Arthur answered.

"Which electives?" The assistant directed this at Leon who just stared back blankly.

"Care of Magical Creatures and… Muggle Studies," England supplied.

This seemed to be the wrong answer; the assistant's smile became strained.

"Sure thing," he gritted out with friendliness so fake it almost rivaled Russia's.

Hong Kong cast an anxious glance back at the living books. From this side he could read the sign declaring them as 'The Monster Book Of Monsters'. Well fuck.

"Do I have to take Care of Magical Creatures?" He whispered at Arthur.

"It's the subject the other two are supposed to teach so they'll know not to expect prior knowledge from you. You can hardly expect Yao to catch you up in Ancient Runes too." Was the answer he got.

Meanwhile the shop assistant had gathered all the books (from the corner of his eye Leon saw them float towards him, he hoped that this would be one of the first things he learned, it seemed terribly useful) and placed them on the counter.

Well, almost all books. He was now warily approaching the cage with the monster books in it and clearly had no clue how he was supposed to do this. Hong Kong concluded that these books were not usually sold here.

Now who in Hogwarts had had the ridiculous idea to put them on the syllabus?

"How about you open the cage and I levitate the first book close to the door and Leon catches it?" Arthur suggested.

A look of relief spread on the assistant's face. They all got in position, Leon halfway between his guardian and the book-cage. Looking at the books once more he had an idea. He unhooked the completely useless chain that was fastened to his belt loops (it was cool, O.K.?) and signaled that he was ready to tackle the book.

With a nod from Arthur the assistant turned towards the cage and opened the door.

Immediately at least five monster books jumped towards the opening, their weird teeth bared threateningly.

Suddenly the first one in line looked shocked (or as shocked as possible for a book to look) as it was picked up in the middle of its jump by Arthur's magic. The shop assistant quickly tackled the remaining books back (not without getting bitten twice) and closed the door behind Leon's copy.

England made the now wildly snapping book hover in front of Hong Kong who, once again, felt like he entered one of his favourite movies. Even though it really wasn't necessary, given the relatively low height England kept the book at, Leon jumped up to slam on the book from above while emitting a battle cry. The book slammed on the ground and he wrestled with it until he managed to wrap the chain around it and force it closed. With a triumphant smile he stood up and placed the now shaking book on the counter. Arthur just shook his head; secretly he was glad that the boy would spend less time around America for the foreseeable future.

"So," said the assistant while he was ringing up and bagging their books, "excuse my curiosity, but are you going to be this year's defence teacher?"

"I have been… offered the position, yes. Though I have yet to officially accept it."

"Well, if you do, I wish you the best of luck," the assistant said smiling.

"Thank you." Arthur said and they left the bookstore with one more bag to carry.

Their next stops were Portage's Cauldron shop and Slug And Jiggers Apothecary where they bought everything Leon would need for his potion classes. They also bought materials for Astronomy class, fine instruments that Hong Kong had only seen in documentaries about Galileo Galilei and the like up until then.

When they left that last shop England turned to Hong Kong. He seemed to consider something.

"Witches and wizards usually pick out a familiar quite early in their lives. Hogwarts officially allows cats, owls and toads as they are the most common but exceptions can be made."

"So your cat is your familiar then? That explains some things about him…"

"Crumpet is actually a crossbreed of cat and kneazle, a cat like magical creature of higher intelligence," Arthur declared proudly, not catching on to what Leon was implying about his cat.

"That sounds cool. Can I have one?" Hong Kong asked.

"You need special ministry permission for a pure breed kneazle, but we could look for a crossbreed?" Arthur offered.

His ward agreed and together they walked into the Magical Menagerie.

There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering or hissing. The witch behind the counter was talking to an elderly couple about their cat that they had brought over in a carrier. To Leon it looked like the animal was simply very old, but the witch behind the counter sold them a red bottle from under the counter for a galleon and sent the two witches on their way.

The two nations had meanwhile wandered over to where a lot of kittens were playing in a large cage. They asked the witch, who has walked over to her new customers, if any of them were half-breed kneazles and she pointed out about five of them.

One kitten caught Leon's eye immediately. He kneeled down to be on eye level with the little furballs and one, that had a black and pattern that made it kind of look like one of Yao's pandas, separated from its playmates and walked towards him.

When he poked a finger through the bars of the cage it carefully sniffed him and then started to rub its little head on it.

"That one," Hong Kong declared.

It didn't come as a surprise to the other two and the witch quickly opened the cage with a flick of her wand and levitated the little thing into his arms where it started purring contently.

Arthur also picked out a carrier for it and Leon surrendered the cat to it with a heavy heart.

"It's a tomcat, by the way," the witch explained as England paid for their purchase once again.

"What are you going to name him?" Arthur asked Leon as they were leaving the store.

"I was thinking… 熊貓⁸," Leon offered, looking sheepish.

Arthur started to laugh and Leon pouted.

"Oh, don't worry, it suits him," he reassured the teen,"but you inherited your creativity from Yao. Maybe we should ask Finland next time."

"Then he would be Hananekokumaki⁹, no thanks!" Leon protested.

After that Arthur led Hong Kong back through the wall and into the Leaky Cauldron. The evening crowd had claimed the tables by now, Leon could see wizards, witches and less-human magical folk crowded around the tables, talking and filling the air around them with smoke from strangely shaped pipes.

England dragged him along to the large fireplace on top of which a sign declared '1 Dose Of Floo Powder For A Knut'. This was the main entrance to the pub, more frequented than the front door. You either apparated here like England had earlier in the day or stepped straight out of the fireplace. Hong Kong expected them to disapperate from the pub, but England took something that looked like a golden necklace from the front pocket of his jacket.

"This is a timeturner," he explained, "with this we will travel back to quarter past one this morning and then catch a cab to Heathrow."

He looped the chain of the timeturner around both their necks and turned the little hourglass a couple of times.

Time travel felt different from disapparition, which was something Hong Kong was already used to. Nation jumping, which all nations were capable of but rarely used, was basically the same thing, just without a wand. Time travel manipulated an entirely different dimension. Therefore it felt entirely alien to Hong Kong. On top of that he was a nation. A relatively young one that had never before experienced what he felt now.

There were two Hong Kongs now, but the world only needed one. Thus the extra Hong Kong got cut off from the land he represented. The markets, the environment, the people: It was all gone. For the first time in his unusually long life Li Xiao Wang felt utterly and completely human.

After taking off the timeturner Arthur took everything they bought that day except for Leon's wand and the carrier with the cat in it. He instructed Leon to wait until he returned with his luggage for the stay in China. England then stepped out into the small courtyard, intent on returning the time turner to Gringotts. He decided against it at the last moment and lifted the enchantment placed on all valuables stored in the Kirkland vault from it. After that he apperated back to his London home and went to bed.

Sleeping in his own bed after a few hours on the sofa followed by an extensive shopping trip felt heavenly, but soon he had to arrange everything for his stay in the wizarding world.

So Arthur prepared a breakfast for two, ate his share and set the other portion up on his own plate. He refilled his cup and woke his sleeping form on the sofa before heading out.

As it was Sunday not a lot of people were in the office except for some that hadn't finished important work yet, and the cleaning staff.

From his office England had a direct line to his brothers and his prime minister that at least the latter would not ignore. It was early enough that Scotland hopefully wasn't drunk, just hung-over. Wales should be available too, at least theoretically, while it was futile to call North for business like this, he would be too cranky and generally looked too young for anybody to take him serious in political affairs. Though maybe he should ask him to house-sit, it would do him good to get away from Ireland for a while and he wouldn't feel left out from things.

An hour later saw three new people at the office. The oldest looking of them was prime minister Mojar but they all knew he was the youngest. Next in line would be Arthur though he didn't seem like it next to a barely 19 looking Wales. Oldest of them was an indeed hung-over Scotland who had somehow managed to splinch off the tip of his right pinky finger. He had a bloody handkerchief that uses to be coloured like his flag tied around it but no one paid it any mind, it would grow back after all.

"So whit's it that ye will need all o' us 'ere for?" The ginger country asked, annoyance clear in his voice. Two heads nodded in agreement. Arthur felt sorry for having pulled his prime minister out of a family breakfast and Wales out of… whatever he did on a Sunday morning (he didn't feel sorry for Scotland's hung-over arse… which that git now attempted to cure by drinking more from a flask.).

He decided not to talk around it and state his point directly: "I'm leaving this position to Wales as my proxy and you, Scotland, will take my place in all meetings so I can take on a teaching position at Hogwarts with Norway and Romania."

After a beat of silence Wales spoke what was on all their minds: "What?"

Arthur sighed deeply. He had been expecting this because his brothers would never make something like this easy for him.

"I trust both of you to act in the interest of the United Kingdom, Owen posing as my assistant here, but you only have to check back with me if you think the situation at hand requires it. Alistair, you will have to represent us at the world conference for the time being. Should you really require my help I have our time turner with me so write me if you need me to join you, but remember it's limitations."

"I wullnae do any paperwirk," Scotland said, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Send it to me via owl then…" Arthur sighted. At least Romania and Norway would have to make similar agreements with Bulgaria and the other Nordics (except Iceland, but Nations that weren't physically 18 yet tended to have less work in general.).

"And what will we get for it?"

"Owen, we already share everything we own, you lot just let me do all the work all the time."

"Do we now, Mr. British Empire?" Wales scoffed.

"The Empire is basically over, I only have Hong Kong left and you know it, Wales!" Arthur contered. "Once I give him back to Yao the Empire will be officially over."

Besides it could have been an UK thing if the others didn't refuse to have anything to do with it in the first place…

Looking back at it Arthur could understand why. Gaining more land changed something in you that you on your realised after it was gone again. He had seen it in Spain but hadn't noticed it happen to himself. But now he was more down to earth than he had been in centuries.

Prime minister Mojar, who had been looking between Arthur and his brothers until then, suddenly asked "You can just do that?"

"Dae whit?", Scotland asked, obviously irritated by the human whom he merely considered a formality in the matter.

"I have never even met any of you. I thought HE was the representation of the United Kingdom, but..." He trailed off.

"You never even told him about us?" Wales sounded as shocked as Scotland looked.

Suddenly Scotland burst out laughing and pointed at the prime minister. "He doesn't ken wee Ireland is running around!"

"Shut up you gits!" England thundered. "I didn't think it would be necessary back then. But yes. I'm England, he's Wales, the drunk one is Scotland and Northern Ireland is around too, though he lives with the Republic, but he tends to be… rebellious."

"He's 15 and his country is fighting itself, it's to be expected," Wales defended their youngest sibling.

"Aye. But when he comes keekin for Arthur fur Ireland 'doesn't git him' only tae start throwing things at Arthur wance he finds him, that's hilarious," Scotland laughed.

"Anyway," Wales said, crossing his arms, we do have to do the work now because someone has to, and if England is off pulling rabbits from a hat-"

"It's not that kind of magic!" England protested.

"-he can't do it. And the other nations will refuse to deal with humans even if it's temporary, that's why off duty nations always give this kind of work to neighbours or friends. But since we're an island, Ireland hates him and his only friends are Norway and Romania AND he hates France… we're the only option," he summarised.

That was really all there was to say about the matter and England's brothers and prime minister quickly excused themselves when his office phone started to ring.

Caller ID informed him that it was Romania calling him and he picked up hoping that his friend wouldn't take back his offer to come to Hogwarts.

"Hello Romania," he offered, trying not to let his worry come through.

"Alo¹⁰ England!" Romania replied, sounding cheerful as ever. Good.

"Listen, Arthur, I've been thinking. If Voldemort is really returning I want someone to teach Moldova magic. But I don't want anyone from Durmstrang and certainly not from Russia's place. It would take him out of Bulgaria's hands for a while too. So if you have anyone, please let me know."

Arthur thought a bit and then remembered:

"Maybe the person they have on stand-by for the Defense Against The Dark Arts position? I'm basically stealing their job, I can ask Dumbledore about it."

"Great Idea! When are you talking to him?" Romania asked.

"I hope some time tomorrow. I guess he wants to meet as soon as possible, the school year starts in September after all."

"Then we'll talk about it tomorrow. La revedere¹¹ Arthur."

After hanging up England spent some hours organizing his affairs, in order to have his brothers take over his duties smoothly.

The next world meeting would start in Hawaii tomorrow morning local time, as it was tradition since the early days to meet on the full moon.

The huge time difference suited England well because he anticipated meeting Dumbledore the next day.

He cancelled his flight, he would have to nation jump to Hawaii because of that; it was exhausting to do so but a possibility nonetheless.

The owl arrived while he was still in the office. It tapped on the window and Arthur smiled. The animal had recognised which of the two Arthur Kirkland's currently chose to represent England and flew straight to his office instead of to the middle of Diagon Alley. Good Girl.

He let her in and took the letter that informed him that Dumbledore would open the floo connection to his office all day to either chat with or get a visit from Arthur. He sent the Owl back immediately with a note that he would most likely visit early due to other obligations later that day.

Looking over his office once more he left work for that day.

Earlier, in China, a 16 year old looking boy learned the worst news of his life.

Leon met up with Yao at the airport. As they were walking out the older Nation informed him of his fate:

"I cannot teach you magic in one month. Also I have other job. We will have to use time turner."

At 9 o'clock the next morning Arthur Kirkland stood in front of the fireplace in his basement. This fireplace had a single purpose and it was not heating.

This fireplace was the only one in the Kirkland Residence connected to the floo network. A cookie jar on the mantelpiece contained the floo powder. Arthur opened it and took out a handful that he then threw into the weakly burning fireplace.

"Hogwarts, Headmaster's office," he called into the now green, roaring flames.

He didn't step into the fireplace immediately, but put his head into the flames that he could barely feel.

Now he could see into a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw footed desk, and, sitting behind it, an old wizard reading a parchment. England cleared his throat and Dumbledore looked towards the fireplace.

"Aah, Mr. Kirkland. Come in, come in my boy."

Arthur cringed internally at that, he was of course much older than the headmaster, but the human didn't know that yet. He stepped through the fireplace into the office and cleaned the soot from the robes he chose to wear today. It was better to make a good impression should he come across any of his new co-workers today. What he didn't realise was how old fashioned that specific set of robes really was.

Dumbledore waved him over and conjured a chair for him to sit.

"Lemon drop?" He offered, holding our a plate containing the sweet.

"No, thank you," Arthur declined.

"So, Arthur Kirkland," Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair, "I knew an Arthur Kirkland once, so now I'm wondering, are you that same man?"

"Well," Arthur started, deciding to not keep the truth from the old headmaster any longer, "we have met before, but I can't say if I'm the man you remember."

"I understand," Dumbledore said, folding his hands.

"No, actually I doubt that, headmaster," Arthur said, a slight grin playing on his lips. "I am here today to tell you the nation of England, and if you accept, other nations as well offer their services in protecting Harry Potter."

"The whole nation?" Dumbledore asked, an amused twinkle in his eye.

"It's representative. Might I reintroduce myself? I am Arthur Kirkland, England."

"You are England?" Dumbledore didn't sound like he thought Arthur was crazy, just like he simply wanted to make sure he understood correctly.

"Yes. Technically I represent the entire British Empire at the moment, but if you were to hire me and my… associates, my brothers will take on some of my current duties.” Arthur explained.

“This is certainly an interesting development," Dumbledore admitted, "but let me ask you first: who are the others you are talking about?"

Arthur had honestly expected a different reaction, for example the headmaster declaring him as insane or at least demanding some kind of proof. Thus he was fumbling a bit with his answer.

"Lukas and Vasilica… I mean, Norway and Romania. We are the three European nations best versed in magic. We would bring Hong Kong and Iceland along as full time students as they are only sixteen in appearance.”

"So, five nations at this school? All to protect Harry Potter?" Dumbledore seemed to doubt this was necessary.

"Headmaster, you didn't see me during the war.” Arthur pleaded. “As fellow wizards and my friends Lukas and Vasilica saw all the damage Voldemort caused me physically and the possibility of his return is enough to make them want to help as much as they can. Lukas will bring his brother Emil along, him and Leon, who is under my care, can transfer into sixth year and keep an eye on things. I am convinced students will be able to see more of what is going on behind the scenes than teachers. If I have learned one thing in my long life it is that kids won't and sometimes can't trust adults."

"What exactly can Nations offer? I can see that you don't age like us, but what exactly qualifies you and your kind to protect the boy?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, we all are immortal as long as our people still are loyal to us, we have our own form of apparition that can not be stopped by usual magic methods, our healing rate is much faster, especially in our own lands, our citizens tend to trust us easily, things like that."

Dumbledore seemed impressed, he looked lost in thought for a while before continuing:

"And two of you would attend as students. That leaves three to fill two open teaching positions, you realise?"

"Headmaster, I wouldn't trust Romania or Norway alone with students. Option A would result in them not learning anything, probably, and option B would have them too scared to attend by the second lesson." England confessed.

"So they would team up to teach..."

"Care of magical creatures," confirmed the Nation, "I will be taking the Defence against the Dark Arts position, if you are still offering it to me."

"Certainly, certainly! I would be delighted to have allies this valuable on my... Our side!" Dumbledore reassured him, leaning forward in his seat.

"Jolly," England said and then frowned at his choice of word.

"Another thing, who did you originally plan to give my position to? Vasilica is looking for a private tutor for his brother now that he will be away during such heated times and also to relieve his... Bulgaria from babysitting duties."

"Well, it was supposed to be a former student? Remus Lupin. Unfortunately he has a... Lycanthropy problem. Part of his payment was going to be the wolfsbane-potion..."

"Luca is going to love him," Arthur smiled.

As much as he tried Dumbledore couldn't hide his shock. Still smiling Arthur took out his wallet.

"I met him once, shortly after his independence. Vasilica took him along to our magic trio meeting. He was very disappointed that Lukas and me did not at least have one fang, like his big brother." Here he pointed out Romania on the picture of the magic trio, one of many pictures he carried in his wallet - of course he would never tell certain people about them *cough* America *cough* -, "Luca himself has two. Wouldn't be surprised if his animagus form would also be a bat, like Vasilica's..." He coughed and put away his wallet. "Anyway, as Voldemort has been hiding in the general area of their respective countries before... I support Romania's idea to have Moldova taught in magic by a qualified teacher." (Did he imagine Dumbledore looking uncomfortable for a second?) "I am certain that we will find a way to transport the potion to Sofia, if your man agrees, too."

Dumbledore seemed satisfied with this and wrote down a name and an address on a piece of parchment. Owls could find addressees without specific instructions, but they would need significantly longer to locate them. A lot of countries actually had to send owls away regularly who's letters were only addressed with a name and a country. (South Italy was especially plagued during the summer months, he had complained about that many times before.)

Arthur immediately recognised the street name but didn't comment on it. Werewolves were shunned in Wizard society. Of course someone like "Remus Lupin" would live in one of the poorest areas his country had to offer.

Pocketing the parchment he looked up at Dumbledore and said "There is of course one more thing I have to ask if you."

"An unbreakable vow I suppose," Dumbledore guessed.

"Indeed. I'm sorry to say that I would have to remove your memories of this entire conversation if I couldn't be sure you will keep our secret."

"Certainly, certainly." He cleared his throat. "Mimsy!"

A petite house elf dressed much better than Arthur was used to - she had artfully arranged several non-clothing fabrics which made her look... If he was honest, it made her look like France - appeared in the office.

"Please go fetch Severus or Minerva, would you?"

The elf squeaked a "yes" and bowed, her long nose almost touching the ground.

In Hawaii

At the same time in Honolulu, which technically meant around eleven PM the day before, three young men with impressive moustaches left a convention center. This particular convention center would be the location of an important meeting tomorrow. A world meeting.

The three of them kept walking straight ahead, taking a shortcut over a parking lot, later passing an elementary school and several restaurants.

At an Italian restaurant that one of them eyed appreciatively, they turned left onto a bigger street. They kept walking some more until they arrived at the Zippy's.

Behind the Zippy's they met up with four children that looked like they belonged into the elementary school they just passed... Or right now, into bed.

"How did it go!?" A boy in a sailor uniform asked. The older ones took of their fake moustaches, revealing them to only be in their teens themselves.

"Well, they believed us when we said we were the representatives of Italy, America and Australia," said a blonde one.

"We checked out the place and the vents are big enough for us, si?" The Italian informed.

"There are five vents leading into the booked conference room. The three of us will take one each and you little fucks have to share the other two." The last teen declared.

"I don't see why I have to share with one of them," the only girl in the group sniffed.

"It's simply a matter of proportions," came the German accented answer.

"Fine," she agreed, "but I'm not sharing with the freaky fish guy."

"I am not a freaky fish guy!" The boy in the sailor uniform protested.

Back in Hogwarts

Severus Snape seldom had time to relax. This was a side effect of teaching seven years of wizards and witches as well as being a double agent. On top of that he now had to fear having to work with one of his childhood tormentors for at least a year- and he'd even get the position he wanted!

So, to be quite honest, he wasn't surprised to have Dumbledore's favourite house-elf-messenger show up after he had just finished checking his storage of potion ingredients. Annoyed, yes, but not surprised.

"Headmaster Dumbledore wishes to talk to professor Snape if it is not too much problem," Mimsy said with a bow.

The potions master sighted and waved her away, walking towards the door of his storage room as she disappeared with a crack.

Like a grumpy old bat he made his way towards the headmasters office, past sleeping portraits, whispering statues and distracted ghosts.

One password and a winding staircase later he knocked on the headmaster's door. After being told to enter he had the misfortune to see a wizard in the most out-dated robes he had seen in a long time- and Dumbledore's guest, whose outfit was only slightly more modern. Snape didn't know what to make of the man. He had a sneaking suspicion that he had seen him somewhere before, but he wasn't sure where. He hoped it wasn't in the ranks of the Dark Lord.

"Ah, Severus. Thank you for coming. I need you to be Mr. Kirkland's and my binder for an unbreakable vow," the headmaster declared.

There was no hiding the shock on the potion master's face. A Kirkland? Was Dumbledore serious? But Dumbledore was already making his way towards the middle of the room and Mr. Kirkland had risen too. Only when the two kneeled in front of eachother Severus collected himself enough to move again, accepting that he wouldn't get more of an explanation.

The two men now kneeling on the ground grasped right hands as Snape stepped closer and drew his wand. He placed the tip on their linked hands. Kirkland was the first to speak:

"Will you, Dumbledore, keep the secret of the Nations?"

"I will," said Dumbledore. A thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from his wand and wound its way around their hands like a red-hot wire.

"And will you treat all Nations as equals in front of others as not to arouse suspicion?"

Snape frowned at that, but dared not to disturb the ceremony.

"I will," said Dumbledore.

A second tongue of flame shot from his wand and interlinked with the first, making a fine, glowing chain.

"And will you also keep secret every other aspect of our nature any Nation may reveal to you in the future?"

"I will," said Dumbledore.

Snapes confused face was illuminated by the blaze of a third tongue of flame, which shot from his wand, twisted with the others and bound itself thickly around the clasped hands of the headmaster and Mr. Kirkland, like a rope, like a fiery snake.

After this the two men got up, dusted off their robes and in the blink of an eye Kirkland touched the potion master's forehead.

A bit confused as to why he was there Snape looked around him, noticed his drawn wand and immediately fell into a more defensive stance.

"Thank you, Severus, you can leave us now," Dumbledore said in a friendly tone.

Deciding it was best not to question his lapse in memory Snape turned on his heel and left back to his dungeon.

Nations did not age like humans. Just because it had been almost 30 years since Sealand's independence it didn't mean that he acted like a young adult in a child's body. He acted like a child. A child a bit too well versed in politics, but still a child. The same concept applied to teenaged nations. While most non-micro nations were in or approaching their 20s there were some still stuck in their teens. One of them was Emil Steilsson, better known as Iceland. At (physically) 16 years he was allowed to live alone in this country – even though Norway and Denmark had only reluctantly agreed to that – but his involvement in government work was comparable to an internship. He had no seat in the world conference, his brothers would stand-up for his interests. And still, as with almost every conference since his foundation, he was on his way to Hawaii right now. A flight from Oslo, he was seated next to his brother Norway. Usually the teenaged Nations would use the meetings to see each other and they also had to "babysit" some really young Nations, like Moldova, if they were brought along. But this time it was different. When he arrived at Oslo Airport to switch flights and met up with Norway his brother had told him that this time he was supposed to participate in today's meeting because of an important announcement he had to make.

He tried to press his brother for information the whole flight but all that got him was a concerned stewardess who clearly didn't speak Icelandic or Norwegian asking him if the man next to him was bothering him. Lukas was smug the whole rest of the flight while Emil pouted because he had to tell her that Lukas was indeed his big brother to dispel her concerns.

Iceland didn't talk to Norway anymore until after they left the Honolulu Airport.

Vasilica Lupei was not a vampire. No, really, he wasn't! Yes, he was sure about it. And yes… he could turn into a bat but that didn't change the fact that the country of Romania was not a vampire. He had only one fang, anyway, and the red eyes where natural. Lack of melanin. His little brother on the other hand…

Moldova hadn't lived through a time where people were genuinely afraid of vampires. Which was fortunate for the 6 year old looking nation as he fit the bill perfectly. Two fangs – check, red eyes – check, thirst for blood – he liked red juices and everything with tomatoes in it. Also he was slightly anemic. Luca was convinced he was a vampire. And he loved it. So his brother and Bulgaria just sighted and let him be.

Currently the boy in question was seated on his older brothers read loveseat, both hands around a big glass of grape juice. "When are we going? It's already late!" He's suddenly exclaimed, not for the first time.

"As I've told you many times already: the conference is in Hawaii today, so it's starting really late for us," Romania explained patience still there but slowly starting to wear thin.

"Will unchi Milen be here soon?" Also not the first time he asked that.

"Yes, he will, we will all travel there together."

They would all nation jump together as they did not want to take the six year old on such a long flight.

The ringing of the phone stopped Luca from repeating this questions once more. He eagerly watched as his brother picked up but was disappointed when he addressed the caller as England, confirming it was indeed not the Bulgarian nation.

Romania hummed and hah'd on the phone before saying "He sounds almost too perfect, what's the catch?" Silence, then "A werewolf?"

That got Moldova's attention. With big sparkling eyes he looked at his brother. "Has the potion been tested?" More listening. "I will talk to him." He said his goodbyes and hung up.

"What was this about a werewolf? Is he going to visit us? Pleeeeaaaassseee can he visit us?!" The boy begged.

"That was England. I've told you I'm going to work with him for a while, but in return I asked him to find you a magic teacher. And well, he found one. Remus Lupin, a werewolf."

"So he is going to come here!?"

"Yes. He will take a potion that will make it so that the wolf form will be asleep during the full moon. I just need to know if you really will feel safe with a werewolf living here."

"I will! I will! I am an awesome vampire after all, we're going to be bestest friends!"

Romania sighted and nodded. "Ok. I'll tell him at the conference."

"Nooooo! Call him back noooow!" Romania couldn't resist those puppy eyes, so he did.

The ringing of the phone shook England out of his thoughts about the upcoming days. Romania accepting Lupin s private tutor was a blessing, Arthur hated the thought of robbing the man of his only opportunity to make a living.

He quickly to pen and paper from his desk and started to write.

Dear Mr Lupin

It has come to my attention the position as professor for defense against the dark arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was to be filled by you before it was offered to me. I deeply regret this turn of events, but unfortunately I am in no position to decline Dumbledore's request for my help.

But I want to inform you of something that may interest you.

As a consequence of my associates and me filling positions at Hogwarts there has arisen a need for a private tutor for the brother of one of them. They are aware of your condition and wish to hire you if you are interested. The student in question is a six year old boy living in Romania or Bulgaria, believing himself to be a vampire for reasons you will be informed of when/if you accept the position. Payment would be the same as Hogwarts offered you.

If you are interested I would also offer you a meeting at my residence in London to discuss further details.

Sincerely

Arthur Kirkland

No, that didn't sound quite right.

Wizards expected a certain standard from the old families after all.

He had to rewrite the letter two more times until it sounded right, at which point he realised something. He didn't have an owl.

Thankfully being the personification of the land brought certain perks with it. Letter in its envelope England leaned out of his window. A large black owl dived towards him immediately. Arthur gave the eager bird the letter and it's flew away with it in its tiny talons.

Seychelles was bored. She had been the first of the teenaged nations to arrive. For a while South Korea had been there too, but because his brother had been allowed to leave his country for this conference (it happened once in a while, his government was blissfully unaware that he didn't actually need to participate) he was now exploring the town with North.

Finally Iceland arrived with his brother. Rushing towards him and dramatically falling into her friends arms she begged "Emiiillll! Save meeee! I'm so bored and Leon won't even come today for some reason!"

"Sorry Michelle," he said while awkwardly trying to get some personal space back (Seychelles, who noticed this leads go of him immediately.), "but I actually have to join the conference today… Lukas just won't tell me why."

"What? Nooooo!" She dramatically crumbled at his feet.

"Is everything alright here?" Switzerland. That meant…

"Lilli! Lilli! Please tell me you are and going to join the conference!"

"No, I'm not," the younger girl smiled. She looked around a bit and saw the area where Seychelles had been looking after some very young Nations earlier.

"Let's sit down and talk while the grown-ups do their thing," Liechtenstein suggested and together they walked towards the makeshift kindergarten.

Iceland watched after them wistfully, but got back his neutral expression very fast and followed his brother. Switzerland was busy talking to Japan, it sounded like the usual pep talk Basch used to give Kiku. Emil thought he should just ask the island nation on a date already.

"Stop taking up so much space!"

"You stop taking up so much space!"

"How about I just turn off your laptop then?"

"I'll tell äiti and pappa12!" Ladonia threatened, making Sealand pout.

The nations in question had just walked in taking their places at the table. Finland sat on Sweden's right who sat next to Norway who sat next to Iceland.

Slowly the room filled up with Nations until Brazil entered and closed the door behind themself. The room was loud. I didn't quiet down when Sealand and Ladonia saw England stand up. I didn't quiet down when Romania stood up too. They saw Germany sigh, looking like he was about to say something when Norway got up and did… something. The room went dead quiet. Norway nodded towards England and set down again.

"Ok, listen up you lot. Norway, Romania, Iceland, Hong Kong and me will not be available in full capacity for the foreseeable future. The three of us that usually participate will be teaching at Hogwarts, my wizarding school (Germany, America and some others cringed hard here), to help protect Harry Potter."

Iceland was shocked. He looked over to his brother who gave him and then Denmark a nod of confirmation. He had been signed up for an undercover mission.

"So the only thing they talked about was the jerk and his friends going to magic school and then they all just fought about it until the conference ended," Sealand summarised. The other micronations nodded.

"So it's obvious that in order to be a real nation we also have to infiltrate this school to protect it from Harry Potter!" Sealand declared.

"Magic? I don't know about that…" Seborga confessed.

"I bet cape here knows," Molossia said, pointing at Hutt River.

"Of course I do! I am a Kirkland after all, but so are-"

"Don't worry! Jerk England has taught me some stuff before he became such a mega jerk!"

"And I learnt from Hutt here, New Zealand and Australia!" Wy was quick to add.

"Isn't art in and of itself the purest form of magic?" Kugelmugel said in a dreamy voice.

"Ok, now it's decided. We become wizards and go to Hogwarts!"

Remus Lupin was a smart and capable man. He could have easily gotten any high paid position he desired. If there hadn't been the small problem of him not having finished any formal non-magical education. He had thought about it, after the war. To somehow complete his A-levels. But he did not know how to explain his absence every four weeks to his teachers. The same went for holding down a job. Muggles would probably think bad of him. And wizards... well, wizards would know immediately. His furry problem would make it impossible to hold down a proper job on either side. Thankfully he had found work that would at least pay food and shelter, at Mr. Fell's bookshop. Mr. Fell was a good man, he didn't seem to be a wizard but Remus was convinced that the man and his boyfriend were somehow magical. But he didn't ask and Mr. Fell in return didn't ask where he disappeared to every four weeks. He was a good man, Mr. Fell, he just couldn't pay Remus much because, well, he didn't sell any books. Remus' job there was to keep the store clean and the customers away.

When Dumbledore had approached him with a job offer, the cursed position of DADA teacher... it would have been stupid not to take it. Then Sirius had escaped and Dumbledore offered the position to someone else. Remus knew he wouldn't be lucky enough for Mr. Kirkland to take the Care Of Magical Creatures position. His predictions were proven correctly when an owl arrived with a letter for him.

He read the letter. Then he read it again. And a third time just to be really sure the words wouldn't change. They didn't. It was a job offer. As a private tutor. In Romania?! For an acquaintance of the Kirkland's on top of it. The most elusive and rumoured about of the old families. They said people who got too closely involved with the Kirkland's were met with a bad fate. But could it really get worse for him? A first meeting with Mr. Kirkland shouldn't be too bad, right? He wrote down a positive reply, listing some possible meeting times, and tied the letter to the outstretched leg of the waiting owl.

When Arthur arrived home from the conference a letter was already waiting for him.

Arthur read the letter and then called the most skilled magic user he knew… who was still on his flight back from Hawaii. Great.

The next problem was the transport of the wolfsbane potion. Arthur thought hard about how to get it from Hogwarts to Sofia without spoiling it.

With a small plopp Romania suddenly appeared in the room.

"How can you do this so often without getting tired?" Arthur demanded to know.

Romania shrugged. "Just one of my special gifts I suppose…"

"The others being?" Romania just smiled in response.

"Anyway, Lupin gave us a positive response-"

"So your werewolf said yes?"

"He would probably appreciate it if you didn't refer to him as that."

Vasilica raised his hands, showing that he didn't mean to offend. "I think it's a lot more accepted in Romania than here, actually," he explained. "My werewolves don't have to move across half the continent to find a good job. Of course, usually it's not in the education system or anywhere close to children…"

"Well, he agreed to a first meeting here, if you wish you can stay here for it."

"When is it?"

"His earliest available spot is at 12 today. It's 8 now," he added for the benefit of his guest.

"Sounds good."

Arthur nodded in agreement and sent the owl to Lupin with an answer.

Remus was nervous as he stood in front of his fireplace. He had already missed one opportunity to have a better paying job. To the man that he would meet with nonetheless. He was also nervous because the man was a Kirkland. There was a reason why that name was only ever spoken in hushed tones. Rumours of black magic and children killed in infancy were known to anyone home in the British wizarding circles. But Remus himself belonged to a group shunned by exactly those people. Officially Arthur Kirkland had of course always stood for the light side in the ministry. He was one of the leading forces that still opposed Malfoy and people like him. Without Kirkland it would probably be illegal by now for Remus to even apply for a job. And Dumbledore trusted him. Trusted him so much that now that Sirius was back he had hired him to protect Harry. And yet there was a voice, sounding eerily like his mother, telling him not to trust a Kirkland. But when the clock struck 12 he tossed a portion of floo powder into the fireplace, requested "The Kirkland Residence, London" and stepped through.

The room he ended up in didn't do much to reassure him. Before he could have a proper look around though, he was approached by Arthur Kirkland.

Remus of course knew that it was him, his unchanging face had constantly been in the prophet since he could remember.

"Hello, I'm Arthur Kirkland. Sorry about the–" Mr Kirkland gestured around the basement room. "I like to keep the magical and non-magical parts of the house separated."

The man that had been standing behind Mr. Kirkland chuckled and reached out his hand. "Great to meet you, I'm Vasilica Lupei," he beamed at him. Now that he got a proper look at the man he noted several things. His suit, though expensive looking, was mended in several places. He looked young, possibly younger than even Mr. Kirkland did, early twenties at most. And… he had a fang. Just one. Remus had an inkling as to whom the man was, and it was confirmed by what Mr. Kirkland said next: "Mr. Lupei is the older brother of the boy you would tutor." They were already walking up the stairs, Mr. Kirkland leading them to his study. They eventually reached a double door that led into a large room with a huge red-mahogany desk placed in front of three floor to ceiling windows. Mr. Kirkland indicated a seat in front of the desk for Remus to sit in, he himself sat down in the large chair behind it and Mr. Lupei sat down on a simple backless stool on Mr. Kirkland's right. A spinning stool to be precise. And spin he did.

"Can't you sit still for once?" Mr. Kirkland directed at him with a sigh.

With an apologetic look the younger man stopped spinning (only to soon pick up a slight left to right movement, but never completely turning the seat around.)

"You are here to hear more about Luca, I presume," Kirkland started.

Remus nodded.

"You see, he has inherited much of the things his brother here has too, like the red eyes–" Mr. Lupei raised his eyebrows twice here– "the fangs–" "He has two!" "and a particular fondness for red food."

"The more natural iron the better, really, those supplements taste awful…"

"This, in combination with him living not too far from Transilvania, has led him to believe that he is a vampire. Keep in mind he's… very young so it's just play pretend at this point."

"He can be glad that the fărămag don't believe in vampires anymore… He would have had an even harder time than me!" Mr. Lupei laughed.

"Faramag?" Lupin asked.

"Fărămag. You call them muggles, I think. I don't like that word… The British wizarding society is a bit… weird," said the man who was still happily swinging on his chair. Suddenly their host raised a hand and with a blast of magic Lupei was flung from his stool.

"Oh! Goodness me, I only wanted to immobilize the chair… I'm much better at this with a wand, let me…" While Mr. Kirkland started to panic Remus calmly walked up to the man on the floor and spoke the counter spell to free him from his full body bind.

"You're hired," Lupei croaked from the floor.

"Well…" Kirkland coughed. "Uhm. Details. Yes. Payment is what Hogwarts would have given you."

Mr. Lupei did not look like he had that kind of money. "Wait what? Arthur, I don't have that kind of money!" "– I will be paying you from what I earn at Hogwarts, the last thing I need is more wizarding money to rust in the family vault. And no Vasilica, you don't have to pay me back with any goods or services."

"Are you sure? I give a mean blo–"

"I said no!"

"Have it your way…"

"Is he…" Remus started.

"Always like this? Only about 45% of the time, thankfully. The other 55% it's a little tamer."

"To be fair, I hit my head quite hard. I might have a concussion," the man still lying on the floor defended himself.

Suddenly a new, monotone voice spoke up behind Remus.

"Hello."

He whipped around. In front of the still closed doors stood a man that had to be part veela. Lean, blonde and eyes that were too purple to be called blue. He was also wearing a business suit like the other two, navy blue in his case.

"Where did you come from!?" Remus blurted out. He was sure the door hadn't opened and he hadn't heard the telltale crack or pop of an apparition.

"New York," the man answered.

"Isn't he great?" Lupei spoke up from the floor, "every time I see him I want to first punch and then kiss him."

The newcomer fixed him with a cold glare.

"He hit his head," Kirkland explained.

The mesmerizing eyes were now focused on Kirkland. "You called me. I assumed it was important since you know I am on a transatlantic flight with my little brother."

Kirkland stood up. "Uhm, yes. I was… we need a way to transport the wolfsbane potion to Bulgaria from Hogwarts that bypasses the wards."

The man stared at Mr. Kirkland for a few seconds, face only showing a minimal hint of exasperation. "Vanishing Cabinets," he deadpanned and disappeared as silently as he had arrived.

"Aww, Lukas is gone and I didn't even get a goodbye kiss," Lupei whined.

"Don't you have a… Bulgarian?" Kirkland asked him.

"I unno… he's been kinda distant since Luca moved in with me… Actually–"

"We're not here to discuss your relationship problems. And we still have a guest! Get yourself together Vasilica!"

"Huh? Ooh, right, right," he beamed at Remus. "Any questions?" He asked, after getting back on his stool.

“Yes. Err… where exactly do I teach him? Moldova? Romania? Bulgaria?”

“Ok, ok, you see, Luca was born in Moldova. But he moved in with me in Romania recently. During my absence he will be in the care of his uncle who lives in Bulgaria. But Milen has the key to my house so they might be staying there… It's connected via floo though, so it's not a long travel.”

“How do I get to the country in the first place? With my luggage and all… How is my accommodation looking?”

“Guest rooms in Milen's or my house, and as for getting there, me and Lukas can just take you along, you saw that he has no problems with long distance apparition and neither do I,” he smiled. “Arthur here on the other hand–”

“Ok, that's enough I think he gets it,” Kirkland interrupted.

Remus really wanted to know how long these two had been friends for. He knew he shouldn't ask but they reminded him of James and Sirius and the question just burst out of him.

“Uh, I think since 1944, when my country changed sides in the war? We had been on good terms before the war but we were never really close, I guess… so about fifty years?” Remus just stared at him.

“Vasilica, you don't look a day over 20,” Kirkland said, burying his face in his hands.

“Aw, thank you! I've been experimenting with my hair!” Lupei beamed. Then he looked between the other two. “Wait. He doesn't know? You haven't told him, Arthur?”

“I figured it was not my secret to tell especially about Milen and Luca since they'll be the ones in close contact with him.”

“Oh. Huh. Guess you're right…”

“You're like the Kirklands,” Remus stated, looking at the one fanged man in a new light. He had seemed so immature and yet he casually talked about being born years before the outbreak of WWII! How old was he?

“I… suppose so?” He glanced at the man in question for some sort of confirmation.

“Now, I need you to know that whatever rumours you have heard about my family is not true. The selective breeding, the killing of babies that don’t show desired qualities, none of that. We’re not the monsters wizarding Britain makes us out to be.

Lupei looked shocked hearing about these rumours.

“So I am to assume that there is a simple explanation for you obviously being much older than you appear,” Remus sighted.

“Yes,” Kirkland confirmed. “We simply do not age. There is a reason for that, of course, but it is a secret shared by many  people and I will leave it up to those in direct contact with you, or maybe you’ll figure it out by yourself, who knows.”

“I suppose I can accept these terms. I know the importance of a well kept secret after all,” Remus agreed. “But tell me,” he asked Mr. Lupei, “How old is your brother, apart from being physically six?”

“Weeellll,” the man started, looking up to the ceiling in thought, “he’s either 600 or three years old, he disappeared for a while in between so we not entirely sure and he lacks memory -or never had it- about everything that happened more than three years ago.”

He looked at Remus again. “But for all intents and purposes he is a six year old and should be treated like one.”

“Of course,” Remus nodded.

“So you will take the position?”

“Mr Lupei, I have to admit that even considering these weird circumstances this is the best opportunity that opened itself to me in ages and I count the cursed Hogwarts position into that,” Remus confessed.

“Marvellous!” Kirkland exclaimed. Then we only have to figure out the vanishing cabinets in the basement and we’re set!”

“Do you have some in the basement?” questioned his Romanian friend.

“I think so. Well then Mr. Lupin, let us see you out.”

And with that he was led back to the basement fireplace and travelled home.

After they had sent Lupin home England and Romania searched the basement for Arthur’s vanishing cabinets. It was Vasilica who eventually pulled a dusty sheet off of a pair of cabinets that they quickly tested with a random book and found to be working satisfactory. Together they shrank them down to the size of jewelry chests. With that done Romania was ready to leave, but he stopped and looked at the cabinets once more before disapparating.

“You know, wizards should be more careful. With the right set up these would allow someone to get into a place they really shouldn’t be…” And with that, he left.

“Well, these are too small for that anyway now,” England concluded, nodding to himself.

He took them back to his study where he wrote a letter to Dumbledore instructing him to pay his salary to one R. J. Lupin instead and gave it to the owl who came as soon as he called for it.

Not long after that his phone rang. On the other end was Leon, who didn’t tell him much except that Yao apparently made him relive most days up to four times. It made sense, of course, Hong Kong had to learn quite a lot after all to be on a sixth year students level.

“This is stupid.” Molossia growled, throwing away the twig sealand had handed him earlier.

“No, it's not. See? Seborga managed to do it!” Peter pointed out excitedly.

“... He just turned it into pasta.”

And indeed Molossia had a point. Where everyone had a feather in front of them, Seborga had a single spaghetti.

“I've been waving the stupid stick for an hour and the feather hasn't even moved. I don't need to waste my time like this, I'm leaving.”

“But Molossia, what about-” started Hurt River.

“No. I'm done here. Figure it out yourselves.”

“... But the castle…” He tried again.

“Ah, just forget about him. It's his loss.” Seborga said, putting his hand on Hurt River's shoulder.

“I can't believe someone would pass up seeing a castle! Living in a castle!” Jake shook his head in disbelief.

“So it's just the 6 of us then?” Asked Sealand.

“It looks like it,” Seborga confirmed.

“I'm going to write a letter to that headmaster then. Dumbledore, was it?”

Dumbledore received two letters on the 3rd of August.

The first, from Arthur Kirkland, he had been expecting. He was happy to learn that Remus Lupin had found employment with one of the countries. England dictated that his earnings should be payed to Lupin instead and to have the wolfsbane potion brought to him for transport via vanishing cabinets.

The second letter was unexpected.

The writer knew about him getting help from the five nations (though he called them by human name) and offered the help of himself and 5 others in the matter. The letter was signed by Jake D. Kirkland. This was not one of the five know Kirklands. But it surely wasn't name anyone would just claim to bear. So he answered in positive, offering a meeting the next day.

Leon started dialling the familiar number.

00354… they were in the Guangzhou house today. It felt good to be close to his city. He chose to be Hong Kong when he was here, it was like recharging after days of illness. Nations weren't meant to time travel, he decided.

The phone eventually connected, but only on got to hear what's the all too familiar busy tone.

“棹忌”¹³

The people that came out of the fireplace were not what Dumbledore had expected.

The oldest two looked approximately seventeen. The younger four looked like first years and one of them immediately disappeared, leaving only a rectangular shaped device behind that promptly started to protest.

“What is happening! Turn it back on! Turn it back on!”

A young boy in a sailor outfit rushed towards it and opened it, revealing a portrait of the boy that had stepped out of the fireplace just seconds ago.

“It won't turn on!” He said, slight panic in his voice.

“Ah, yes, this is an electronic device, correct?” Dumbledore stepped closer to it. “Those tend to not work in areas with lots of magical energy.”

“So... I'm stuck in here?” The boy in the device asked him.

“I’m afraid so...” Dumbledore said calmly.

Turning to the other five he asked “Am I rightfully assuming that the lot of you are of the same… flock as Arthur Kirkland?”

“That jerk is my brother!” The boy who was still holding the device with the redhead in it nodded.

“Hold on. Are you asking if we are countries?” The only girl in the group asked, eyes narrowed.

“Wy, you can't just say it like that!” An Italian accented voice chided.

“Of course we are countries! We are the best countries there are!” Arthur's apparent brother proclaimed (he certainly had the eyebrows, but so did two others in the group). “This is Wy, Seborga, Hutt-River, Kugelmugel, Ladonia and I am the great Sealand!”

Dumbledore did not want to crush his spirit by telling him he had never heard of a single of these countries, so he just nodded along.

“Of course,” he agreed. The boy beamed at him. Suddenly a scream followed by very fast paced German erupted from the long haired boy that had been quiet until now.

“SielebenohmeinGottsielebenichkannsieschnarchenhörenaaaaaaah!”

“Are you alright my boy?” Dumbledore cautioned.

“YOUR PORTRAITS ARE ALIVE!” He screamed.

“Yes. All of Hogwarts’ many portraits are alive.”

“And one can talk to them???”

“Why, yes of course!”

That seemed to be too much for the boy as he fainted on the spot.

“He likes art,” the Italian, Seborga, offered. He approached the boy and when he didn't react to being nudged, easily picked him up, throwing the motionless body over his shoulder.

“If I may be so forward, what are your names? Human names I mean,” Dumbledore asked them, after seeing that no one was really bothered by the boy passing out.

“I'm Jake Kirkland!” The one dressed most like a wizard proclaimed.

“I'm Peter Kirkland.”

“Wendy Kirkland”

“Nils Oxenstierna”

“I'm Valentino Vargas and he is Hugo Edelstein,” finished the Italian.

“Are there… many Kirklands?” Dumbledore asked. The British wizarding world only knew of five, England, Scotland, Wales and the Irelands, he presumed.

“Ever heard of the British Empire?” Wendy asked, sounding annoyed. “Some took on another name after getting back their independence. Dad kept his though and me and Jake are named after him.”

“And your father would be…”

“Australia. Jett Kirkland.”

“I see. And Sealand? You sound too British to be Australian…” Dumbledore mused.

“He's a Seafort just of the shore! My parents, Finland and Sweden, adopted him though.” Ladonia called from the laptop..

“Can we get a tour of a castle?” Jake pleaded.

“Of course! I'm always happy to show it to people.” With that started to lead them out of the room and the micronations followed him down the winding stairs.

Hugo, still being carried by Valentino, started regaining consciousness when they reached the hallway, owlishly blinking at the many portraits along the hallway.

“This place,” Kugel started, “it's the most beautiful place on earth!”

But before he could finish Jake spoke over him.

“This is unacceptable. You called this Castle? Where is the decor? The glamour? The atmosphere!? I'm not going to stay here for a year. No way.”

“But Hutt!” Seborga tried to sway him, setting Kugelmugel back down. “We haven't even seen the place where we make food! I bet a place like this offers amazing kitchens!”

“All food is prepared by house elves,” Dumbledore explained, “the meals are served for everyone in the great hall.”

“...That means British food?” Valentino asked carefully.

“Yes?” Dumbledore confirmed hesitantly.

“Every day?” He asked again.

“Yes.”

“Mamma Mia! Would you look at the time. Ha. I just remembered my brother's asked me to help them with important government work. All year. Let's go Hutt!” And in the blink of an eye both teens were gone.

Peter forlornly stared at the place they had just been.

“Oh…I guess the micronations club is not doing this after all then…”

“Nein!”

He looked up questioningly. Hugo stood there, hands on his hips, a determined expression on his face.

“Are you really giving up just because these two losers left? What happened to protecting the school?! Are you a real nation or not?”

“I am a real nation!” Sealand said crossing his arms.

“I can't hear you!” Hugo challenged.

“I am a nation and not a fishing store! Professor, count the four of us in!”

“You can't be serious!” Iceland screeched, disapproval clear in his voice.

“It's kind of cute once it calmed down. Do you want to pet it?” Norway asked, shoving the monster book of monsters into Iceland’s face.

“No!” Iceland protested, slapping his hand away. “The poor shop clerk actually cried when you ordered three! And you still want to teach a whole class with them…”

Instead of replying Norway put the book back with the ones he bought for Iceland and Romania, giving it one last pat which it rewarded with a content purr.

“Clothes next,” he informed after consulting the list once more, even though Iceland was sure Norway had learnt it by heart already.

The first two days after Remus had talked Kirkland and Lupei had been uneventful for him. On the third day he had work at the bookshop.

He'd have to tell Mr. Fell off his new employment. Remus knew the man would understand, he had assured Remus that one day there would be a better opportunity for him waiting many times.

He would miss the books. He had been looking forward to Hogwarts’ library but now… He sighed, putting the book he had been dusting off back in its place.

When he was done with dusting he made his way to the counter where Mr. Fell stood, reading a book and forgetting his drink, as usual.

The blonde man reacted surprised but happy upon hearing the news and wished him good luck, while also assuring him that there would always be a place for him at the bookshop.

Aziraphale called Crowley immediately after Lupin had finished his last work day.

“What isss it, Angel?” The demon hissed.

“Hello dear. Did you by chance work any miracles pertaining my employee?”

“No,” came the answer, “but didn't you plan on miracling him a better job opportunity?”

“Yes, but… not yet!” The angel confessed. He had grown attached to the wizard. “He is such a good worker…”

“So.. he quit?” Asked Crowley.

“Yes. Someone hired him as a private tutor. In Romania!”

“That is… Oddly fitting for a werewolf…”

Scotland couldn't believe it. He would have to do work! Arthur's work. Which he palmed off on him on a Sunday! He melts to stay (relatively) sober until Friday, getting his affairs in order by talking to various politicians, Scottish and, he shuddered, English alike. But on Friday he needed a drink. Well, more than one. So he went to a pub.

<sup>1. Uncle Milen↩
2. Hello this is Vasilica Lupei↩
3. no, no, no↩
4. yes↩
5. bye↩
6. bak lou-a person from North China; a northener↩
7. Wèi, zhè shì wáng yào-Hello, this is Wang Yao.↩
8. hung maau-panda↩
9. flowercatbeartree↩
10. Hi↩
11. goodbye↩
12. mom and dad↩
13. zaau ge-(mild expletive) damn; what bad luck; terrible↩</sup>

Chapter Text

"Is there anyone delivering dinner at this time? I'm starving…"

Romania was right of course, it had been a long day for both of them already.

"There is this 24-hour Italian delivery service close by. I could order something there," England offered.

"Sounds great, but remember, no garlic, I'm allergic and hate the smell…"

Dinner was nice but seeing Romania eat tomato sauce and drink red wine made England a little uneasy for some reason…

"I think I haven't eaten this good in months!" The Romanian beamed.

"You've got something there…" England gestured at his own chin. The Romanian got rid of the offending red smudge with only a few misses.

After dinner they each drank some of the mate Hong Kong usually drank to get their energy back up.

They talked to each other for a while and eventually, noticing the time, England lead Romania down to the basement where Lupin would be arriving via floo.

Chapter Text

Not long after Romania had left the phone rang.
“Kirkland?”
“Hi, it’s me,” said the voice on the other end.
England was about to ask who “me” was when it clicked.
“Leon! How are you doing?”
“Fine.”
“Any particular reason you called?”
“Just to talk.”
“...”
“...”
“What have you been doing?” Arthur tried to bring the conversation along.
“Lots of magic and time traveling. I think we’ve relived every day at least 3 or 4 times…”
“Is it fun?”
“It’s o.k….”
“...”
“...”
“Have you talked to Emil?”
“Yeah.”
“...”
“...”
“Anything else you want to tell me?”
“No.”
“Goodbye then?”
“Bye.”
Arthur hung up and got very emotional.
“He misses me!”
Of course he does you’re his mum you loser

Chapter Text

The Knight Bus

On Saturday Scotland had made his way through several pubs, muggle and magical alike, and had eventually ended up at the leaky cauldron. That’s how Harry Potter, freshly ‘detained’ by the Minister of Magic himself, met his first Kirkland.

A raging drunk red-head, hair impossibly more red than even the Weasley-Clan’s. And no one seemed to have the guts to approach the man who screamed abuse at everyone.

“Ye wizard folk hink yoo’re sae bludy important, reit? Mah brither thinks ye ur! An’ noo he goes off tae wark at ‘at glaikit school of mine an’ lets me dae aw his wark, th’ wee dobber!”

Next to Harry Fudge shook himself out of his shocked silence. He cleared his throat and asked Tom, the landlord, for a pot of tea. Behind them Stan and Ern, the conductor  and driver of the Knight bus that had brought Harry here, entered with a lot of scraping and puffing, carrying Harry’s trunk and Hedwig’s cage, looking around excitedly. They averted their eyes when they fell upon the scotsman.

“And a private parlor, please, Tom,” said Fudge, gaze flickering towards the redhead briefly.

“Bye,” Harry said miserably to Stan and Ern as Tom beckoned Fudge toward the passage that led from the bar.

“Bye, Neville!” Called Stan.

Fudge marched Harry along the narrow passage after Tom’s lantern, and Harry into a smaller parlor.Tom clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room.

In the front room Scotland was still rampaging, insulting people left and right. In his drunk mind not much registered anymore, but even he couldn’t ignore the large black dog that wandered into the pub. His ranting only stopped when the dog came to a halt in front of him, growling slightly.

“Whit? cannae ye see aam busy?” Alistair asked it, irritated that his plans for the day were being interrupted.

The dog barked.

Scotland crossed his arms.

The dog huffed and shook his head, turning and walking towards the exit to diagon alley.

“They’re sensitive to loud noises,” someone mumbled but he was shushed by his companion immediately.

With a frown Scotland sat back down and drank the rest of his beer quietly.

“Er- Minister?,” Harry started, “Can I ask you something? Two things, actually…”

“Certainly,” said Fudge with a smile.

“Uhm. Who was that man in the front room? The loud scottish one…”

“That… was Alistair Kirkland, Harry…” he said in that particular way that made Harry feel like he ought to know who that was. He had heard it a lot since joining the wizarding world.

“O-oh. Uhm, the other thing: Third-years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but my aunt and uncle didn’t sign the permission form. D’you think you could—?”

Fudge was looking uncomfortable.

“Ah,” he said. “No, no, I’m very sorry, Harry, but as I’m not your parent or guardian—”

“But you’re the Minister of Magic,” said Harry eagerly. “If you gave me permission—”

“No, I’m sorry, Harry, but rules are rules,” said Fudge flatly. “Perhaps you’ll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year. In fact, I think it’s best if you don’t… yes… well, I’ll be off. Enjoy your stay, Harry.”

And with a last smile and shake of Harry’s hand, Fudge left the room. Tom now moved forward, beaming at Harry.

“If you’ll follow me, Mr. Potter,” he said, “I’ve already taken your things up…”

Harry followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for him.

Inside was a very comfortable looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe—

“Hedwig!” Harry gasped.

The snowy owl clicked her beak and fluttered down onto Harry’s arm.

“Very smart owl you’ve got there,” chuckled Tom. “Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there’s anything you need, Mr. Potter, don’t hesitate to ask.”

He gave another bow and left.

Harry sat on his bed for a long time, absentmindedly stroking Hedwig. The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety blue to cold, steely gray and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold. Harry could hardly believe that he'd left Privet Drive only a few hours ago, that he wasn't expelled, and that he was now facing three completely Dursley free weeks. He also thought back to Alistair Kirkland, who seemed to have calmed down because he hadn't heard him when he left the parlor earlier.

“It’s been a very weird night, Hedwig,” he yawned.

And without even removing his glasses, he slumped back onto his pillows and fell asleep.