Chapter Text
June 21st.
A day that is not celebrated in bold.
It is, however, known as the longest day of the year and the Summer Solstice.
Of course, all this information is common knowledge to the regular human being. What most do not realize is that the Summer Solstice holds the hour of magical folks' dreams. It is the day in which much magic is cast and many rituals and ceremonies are performed.
Why? Well, the reason this happens is left unexplained to the public. Only a few individuals are aware of the cause. Only a few know that three personified Nations are to blame for this peculiar phenomenon.
England.
Romania.
Norway.
They are the self-called Magic Trio, and they are the only Nations that openly speak of their magical abilities.
June 20th.
The date they have their annual meetings. The day they allow their magic to unleash itself in full.
The three countries use this "conference" to receive Visions of the coming year. Normally it would tell them of natural disasters or a fight they would attempt to defuse. This year was different. It would lead to one of the greatest acts of Nation intervention the World had ever bore witness to.
"Have we all the ingredients?"
"Yes, Norway."
"Are you sure? I don't want a repeat of last year, Vlad."
"I'm sure! I've checked four times now."
"Don't start, please. We’ve gone the whole day without you two bickering. You almost broke your record from 1832 too," a figure spoke from around the corner while grabbing a book from its shelf.
"Why do we need the book? We've done this so many times!" the mentally eight-year-old country named Romania said. (Who am I kidding? All countries have the mentality of children.)
"England here is right to bring out the book. After all, he of all people should know what happens when one gets too cocky with magic."
"Tone the salt down, Lukas," the country known as England retorted, slightly smiling as he placed the book down onto the circular table and started searching for his desired page.
"I'm sure you still know your Latin, Vlad, but we have no room for error. Once this is done, we will have to wait a whole year to perform the spell again.
"Now hurry up, get off the floor, and help me draw the diagram out," England ordered. "And Norway, review the Latin yourself while we're at it."
A few minutes passed, and the three Nations were sat around the table. Shadows loomed from the corners of the dusty repurposed cellar they were situated in as if waiting to pounce on unsuspecting prey. Thankfully, none of the shadows were sentient, so they had nothing to worry about.
They wasted no time in placing one hand at the edge of the diagram when the clock above stroke twelve. As a new day dawned, the magical energy of the Nations tore through their systems and outwards, reacting with the diagram and sending each nation into a Vision of their own.
When Romania opened his eyes, he was shocked to see a reflection.
No. Wait.
It was not a reflection. It was, however, a pair of scarlet-red eyes he was staring at. Though, his skin had never been that pale before.
There was another difference between the figure and himself, the intensity of the eyes. They were the eyes of a killer. Now, Vlad wasn't saying he hadn't killed anyone before. Fighting in wars left you no choice, but whoever owned these eyes sure did not feel any remorse over the lost souls.
Before Romania could ponder any further over the strange image before him, he was sucked from the Vision.
When Norway opened his eyes, the first thing he took notice of was the room around him.
It was a child's room. An infant's to be exact. It looked to be hastily broken into.
Lukas looked down and could not believe he had missed her.
There was a young woman with red hair sprawled over the floor. It was no question whether she was alive or not.
Norway was startled from his thoughts as the Vision took him towards the crib.
A child lay undisturbed, unaware of the horror that lay less hen a few feet away.
What caught Norway's eye next was a main identifier. A lightning-shaped wound upon the child's forehead. It appeared to be recently afflicted.
This had to be Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. For what other child had lost both his parents (or at least his mother) and acquired a specifically shaped scar on the same night?
The Vision faded away.
Unlike the others, when England opened his eyes, he was met with a familiar scene. The castle and the grounds that surrounded it brought back memories of four individuals he once called friends.
But the castle of Hogwarts was one of the last things he wanted to see right now. If an event of such a caliber that he saw it in the vision was about to transpire at the school, he did not think he could stand by.
A snap from the tree line caught his attention and the Vision was certainly eager to show him what took the wrong step.
A unicorn, pale and glowing in the moonlight, stood a ways from him. It reminded him of his friend back at home.
Before Arthur could even begin to compare the two, the shadows of the forest came to life, attacking the poor unicorn.
The creature fled, leaving a trail of shimmering blood in its wake.
Darkness consumed him. The Vision fleeted from sight.
They stayed in silence even as the final Nation woke from their Vision.
Norway was last to open his eyes and immediately looked to England.
"Your Boy Who Lived seems to get in trouble a lot," he said breaking the quiet.
…
"Drugs?"
"No! Not drugs, Vlad!"
"Well, sorry. With you, any- "
"Quit it! Just tell me what you saw, Nor."
"I saw the event that happened about ten years ago. I don't know anything else. It was only two images after all."
"I only saw these weird red eyes -You have red eyes, Vlad- I know! Shut up! Anyway, they were really scary. The guy that owned those eyes was paler than I am!" Romania shouted.
"Coming from you, that's pretty pale," Norway taunted monotonously.
"Don't. Start. Vlad, how pale was this person's skin exactly? Was it almost white?" England asked.
"Yeah. As I said, they were really creepy," Vlad shivered.
"Hogwarts, Harry Potter, red eyes, and pale skin…" England suddenly gasped, "Harry Potter's supposed to have his first year at Hogwarts start this September! Oh…"
"You're leaving us in the dark, Art," Vlad deadpanned.
"In my Vision, I saw the castle of Hogwarts. It’s the magic school in my brother's country. If you know the story of Harry Potter, you know about the war and the Dark Lord Voldemort, yes?"
"Hold up! Are you saying I locked eyes with a Dark Lord?" Vlad shrieked in alarm.
"I'd be more concerned about the kid if I were you Vlad. What I have pieced together so far is that the Potter kid might be in trouble with a certain Dark Lord this coming year, and it's all taking place at Hogwarts," Norway hypothesized.
"That's what I was thinking. There is just one problem. I don't think I can stand by and watch this play out," England confessed.
"Arthur, intervention in the affairs of humans is normally frowned upon. Are you sure you want to risk it?" Romania inquired.
England stood up and grabbed some writing utensils from the lone desk in the cellar.
"I think I know what I'm getting into. I need to write a letter about my visit to my brother first-"
"You think we're going to let you settle this by yourself?" Norway cut in. "If the Vision chose to show each of us a part of a greater image, then wouldn't it take each of us to piece together a greater plan?"
England sighed. He scrapped his half-written letter and started anew.
"You're right. I'll write to Scott tabout our visit. I hope you take this chance to write to your families about your prolonged absences. If we go along with what I have already thought about, we may be away for a few months."
"Will do."
June 24th
Inverness, Scotland
"Why does he live so far away? He's in the same country as you, damn it!"
"My brothers and I prefer to stay in our old territories. Scotland also wanted to be closer to his Highlands. You know how he is. The farther the better."
The letter of acceptance from the Scot had been recieved and met with a reply within two days. Romania and Norway were quickly writing to their families about the possible absence on the way to Inverness. England had written his letters after writing to Scot.
After a few hours of travel and unrest, the three Nations had arrived at the entrance to Scotland's residency.
Norway looked at the house. Noticing none of the lights were on, he said, "I don't think anyone's home."
England peered at a flowerpot near the steps. He picked a key out from under the tray.
"He always takes the time to place a key whenever he leaves. With all the old tactics we use, it's a wonder none of our houses have been broken into."
He opened the door and took a quick peek inside. It looked as though his brother had been drinking.
"His floor's littered with bottles. Proceed with caution!" Romania chirped from behind him, as they stepped into the living room.
"He's probably been gone for a few hours. It's almost four o'clock," Norway said, kicking an empty bottle from under a chair.
"If he doesn't show in the time we agreed on, I'll beat him over the head," England replied, picking up the said bottle. He went into the kitchen area to recycle it. Norway followed along with a few more.
England muttered a few profanities at his brother as he and Norway continued to pick up after him. Each swear was countered with an eye-roll from the Norwegian.
Entering the room for what they hoped would be the last time, England and Norway looked to Romania.
"What the hell are you doing, Vlad?"
A typical Norway question, no emotion and all.
Romania was currently jumping up at different angles trying to grab heaven knows what from a shelf. Since the house was built for a six-foot-something man, his 5' 7''-self was having more than a little difficulty.
"This bottle on the top shelf has a strange aura. I wanted to check it out, but this place is made for giants. I can't… freaking… reach!"
"Don't worry. I'll get it." Norway, being the tallest of the bunch, was probably their best bet at seeing whatever was in that bottle.
He grabbed a conveniently close stool and reached for the bottle.
"How tall would you estimate this shelf is?" England asked offhandedly.
"Tall."
*Sigh*
CRASH
Apparently, the stool was not as sturdy as it looked. Norway took a tumble from the shelf, smacking the bottle, and letting whatever substance that was inside fall onto them.
-
Scotland's past week had been an interesting one. It had ended on what some would call a cliff hanger. His brother had sent him a letter concerning the Visions his little group of friends had seen and wanted his assistance.
It seemed as though this week would be even worse.
He came home from a meeting about 15 minutes later than he should have. Not a big deal, yes? It shouldn't have been, but apparently 15 minutes was all it took for his baby brother to get into serious trouble.
Instead of finding his little Albion furious and on a rampage because of his tardiness, he found a literal little Albion in a heap, conked out, with two other children he could only assume were Romania and Norway. Talk about a shock.
England hadn't been this little since medieval times. He looked to be eleven years old, as did his companions.
Around the three were glass shards and a soaked piece of paper labeled with a question mark. Damn it. They had spilled the one thing from his drunken episodes that he had yet to figure out.
At least he knows what it does now.
Figuring that it would be rude to leave them on the floor until they woke up, he sat them on the couch.
'I'll just have to wait to get an explanation.'
Of course, something had to go wrong.
An hour later, England had woken from unconsciousness. He surveyed the room and deduced that his brother had returned from whatever the heck he was doing. He probably sat him over the side of the couch while knocked out.
England moved to get up from the couch but fell from the shock of what he saw.
His hands… his hands were tiny. Well, not tiny but smaller than they were just a few hours ago. He turned around and about fell again.
Two children were sat up on the couch in a similar fashion that England was. One was pale blond, and another was strawberry blond.
Oh no. Norway and Romania. The weird bottle.
England would bet a large sum that he was also in a child's body.
A sudden curse distracted him from his astonishment. Scotland stood from the entrance to the kitchen.
"If you had the innocent look in your eyes that you had as a kid, I might think you only had memories from childhood too. Welcome to your personal hell, England. I can treat you like a child again."
England just stared.
…
"You should be glad I still have clothes from your childhood. You all were bare when I found you. Hope that was just an effect of whatever the heck that concoction was," Scotland muttered as he got closer to the Englishman (Or should I say English boy).
"If you didn't know what it was, why the heck was it in your house, you git?!" God, his voice sounded so weird. He was really short too, having to look up higher to see Scotland's face. "How did this even happen?"
"These past few nights I have been getting strange feelings. They reminded me of a few years ago. A few times I didn't think I could deal with them, and eventually I ended up drunk. Every time I did something different. This last time I made that. 'Don't know what it is or what it did. Now I do."
So, a mystery potion made with uncertain motives.
A groan was heard from beside them. Norway was up.
*SCREECH*
And so was Romania…
"What in the heck is happening?! Scotland, there are two children! Why are there children?!"
Norway let him panic for a few more seconds before forcefully shutting him up with a hand to the face.
"Scotland… the kid just hit me…"
"Vlad, I don't know what that bottle had in it, but it did this. We're kids now," England explained.
"So, you're England? And you're Nor? You hit me!" Romania said.
"I hit you because you were too loud," Norway said, looking at his clothes. "What am I wearing?"
"England's old clothes. Wales dropped them off a few years ago because his town was expecting a flood," Scotland answered.
"Oh."
"Ignoring the unexpected setback, we still need to tell you about the Visions. We had a few interesting ones," England said, setting his eyes back on the Scot. "We have reasons to believe that Harry Potter might be in danger at Hogwarts this coming year. Now that I think of it, the things you've been feeling could correspond to the rising of a certain Dark Lord, but I'd certainly feel them too if that was the case," he pondered.
"Hogwarts, huh? I wouldn't put it past him, but how can the Dark Lord be back when Potter killed him?" Scotland questioned.
"Do you really think an infant can take down a dark wizard who murdered thousands?" Norway countered.
"…You're right. It would be hard to convince the wizards though. They can be as hard-headed as one can get."
England pouted, "My original plans are all useless now if we can't get turned back. I was going to have us go as inspectors for the muggle government."
Romania's eyes lit up. "Maybe we can do this as kids! In fact, I feel it will be easier to get an inside look if we are in the same year as Potter. If we are closer to the kid in age, it will be easier than if we were adults."
"I think that's one of the only plans you've made that seem plausible."
"Shut up, Nor!"
"Alright! That is enough. Do we all agree upon this plan?" England shouted. Sounds of agreement followed.
"I believe we should tell our families that we are to be gone for more than the original plan?" Norway inquired.
"Get the pens and paper."
-
A/N
And that was it! Hopefully, this can be recognized as better than the original. In fact, this one chapter was about the size of the three chapters of the old one. I feel much better with the plot I have set than whatever mishmash I had in my head before.
As always, thank you for reading!
Lots of hugs,
Wozzy