Hello again. It's been a while but I decided to write more of this story. It's shorter than the last chapter and I'm not entirely happy about it, but I might as well share what I have written before my writer's block comes back. I've put in a few of my headcanons, but nothing that affects the plot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Hetalia. Those were made by J.K. Rowling and Hidekaz Himaruya.

Harry's quill hovered just above the parchment. He had decided to write back to Arthur Kirkland, since Ron and Hermione weren't responding to him. But what to say? In the letter- Harry glanced over at the now well worn piece of parchment for what seemed like the thousandth time- his parents had described him as a friend of theirs. Had Hagrid gotten photos from him?

Dear Arthur Kirkland, Harry started. He still wasn't entirely sure about that opening, but at least he had something. After a deep breath he set quill to parchment once more.

You said I could contact you, and I have some questions about my parents. What were they like? How did you know them? Why haven't you contacted me before? Who are you? Harry paused at that last question. It seemed quite rude. After contemplating it for a few minutes, he decided to keep it. He was curious.

Please return my owl as soon as possible.

Harry Potter

Harry sat back, glancing over the (admittedly short) letter. He sighed, looking at his owl, Hedwig, who was padlocked in her cage. Even if he wrote a decent letter to Arthur Kirkland, he wouldn't be able to send it. He supposed he could try sending it the Muggle way, but he wasn't sure if wizards could be reached by magic. And what would the Dursleys say if he suddenly started sending letters to people? They'd think that he was trying to contact his magical friends. Which he was, sort of.

He'd have to do it in secret. The stamp he could nick off of the Dursleys while he was cleaning. And if he timed it right, he could slip the letter in the mailbox while the Dursleys weren't looking.

There was also his phone number, but Harry didn't think the Dursleys would let him use their phone. Harry would have to find a payphone, and get the money to pay for it.

No, muggle mail looked like his best chance so far.

Harry picked up the letter from his parents once more. His eyes automatically flicked to the many We love you's contained within it.

Dear Harry,

If you are reading this then we are dead. And we are so, so sorry for having to leave you. We left this letter for you with Arthur, a friend we made once we have left school. He is trustworthy. If you ever need help, go to him or Moony, or Padfoot, or Wormtail. That's Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettegrew. We love you, Prongslet.

Harry, don't let anyone make you do something that you don't feel is right. Stay true to yourself. Rely on your friends for help. If what we suspect is true, then you will have a hard life ahead of you. You can't do it alone. We love you.

From this point on we're going to act as if you have no knowledge of the Wizarding World, since we don't know who survived the war. We are James and Lily Potter. Your parents. Your grandparents on my side were Violet and Peter Evans, and mine were Fleamont and Euphima Potter. They died of Dragon Pox, while Lily's parents died in some muggle accident. A car crash with a drunk driver. I also have a sister, Petunia Dursley, but I would be careful around her. She is very jealous of magic.

We have a vault for you in Gringotts (the Wizarding Bank) which should have family heirlooms and gold. There's also a trust fund that we've set up for you. You can't take anything from the main family vault unless you're over seventeen, emancipated, or approved by your guardian. There are also several other important items like the deeds for our houses, our investments, and the patents for various potions and spells that James's family has made.

We've made arrangements for you to attend Hogwarts when you are of eleven years of age. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is Britain's magical school. The headmaster at the time is Albus Dumbledore, who is a friend of ours. I don't know if that's changed, but he's another person you should be able to go to for help if you need it.

Everything else you should need is in this envelope. We love you, Prongslet. Stay safe. Be careful.

Love,

Lilly and James Potter

Lilly wrote her 'g's in the same way that Harry did. He had already looked through this letter for every one of them, and each made him feel closer to her. James's portions of the letter had been messier, but resembled his own handwriting more.

Hedwig hooted softly and Harry snapped out of his thoughts, glancing at the clock. It was almost midnight. If he was going to make even a half decent attempt at his chores tomorrow, he would need to sleep. Harry carefully folded up the letter and slid it back into the envelope, which he then placed under his pillow.

"Night, Hedwig." Harry whispered, before turning off the light.

Harry flopped onto his bed. Despite the forces working against him (Aunt Petunia), he'd managed to smuggle a stamp and an envelope into his room, and then later smuggle his letter into the mailbox. His baggy clothes were very useful when he wanted to hide something, since even Aunt Petunia's sharp eyes wouldn't notice an extra lump.

He'd revised his letter from before and added that his owl wasn't available, along with a brief warning about the Dursleys. Harry hoped that Arthur Kirkland had enough sense to not go parading around in robes or acting to wizardly. He'd been wearing robes at the station, but he'd also provided a telephone number, so Harry hoped that meant that he wasn't entirely clueless about muggle customs. Or at the very least knew more than Ron.

"Hey Artie!" A loud voice called. Arthur Kirkland winced, both at the nickname and the unexpected noise. When had Alfred gotten there?

"What?" Arthur called back sourly.

"Your mail's here!" Alfred's cheerful voice replied. "I left it on the table. Mind if I hang here for today? I got the reservation wrong at the hotel and the room won't be ready until this afternoon. Thanks!" Arthur grumbled a bit more to himself before standing up and stretching. A visit from Alfred was as good a reason as any to take a day off from work.

Arthur entered the dining room to find Alfred tilting on a chair with a DS in his hands.

"If you do that you'll end up falling and cracking your skull." He commented, but Alfred just ignored him in favor of his game. Arthur glared at him and picked up the small pile of mail. Most of it was junk, but one letter in particular caught his eye.

"Oh?" He murmured softly, "And who's this from?" The envelope was addressed to Arthur Kirkland, but it was the sender's address in the corner which interested him . The letter it contained was surprisingly short.

"Whatcha got?" Alfred asked, his game paused. "Can I see it?"

"A letter from Harry." Arthur replied, handing it over.
"Harry?"

"Harry Potter. Lily and James's son." Alfred's eyes widened in recognition.

"Oh, that Harry! How's he doing?" He asked, handing back the letter.

"I'm not sure." Arthur replied, "This is my first letter from him." Alfred furrowed his brow.

"Didn't he get back from magic school a while ago? Pig-something?"

"Hogwarts." Alfred snickered at the name. "Oh shut up, I didn't name it. The warning he put in about his family worries me. He shouldn't sound so afraid of the people who raised him." The pair sombered at the thought.

"We should go check on him." Alfred decided. "Make sure he's alright and everything." He got up and stowed his game in his pocket, ready to go. Arthur only hesitated a moment before following.

"I'm booooooored." Alfred complained. "Are you sure we're going to the right place? Everything here looks the same."

"Turn here." Arthur replied. "We should be there soon." Alfred turned onto Privet Drive, trying to pick out number four from its neighbors.

"Is that him?" He asked, making Arthur look up from his map. Alfred was pointing at a scrawny boy in oversized clothes kneeling over a flowerbed. Arthur frowned at the boy for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I think so. I can't see him properly, but…"

"If this is the right guy we were right to be worried." Alfred finished. "Welp, we'll never know if we don't go and say hello!"

"Wha- Alfred!" Arthur protested as Alfred got out of the car and called out the the boy.

"Hey, kid!" The boy looked up, suddenly tensed. "Are you Harry Potter?" This only served to spook the boy more.

"Alfred, would it hurt to use the brain I know you have to use for once in your life?" Arthur grumbled, getting out of the car as well. The boy's gaze immediately turned towards him and surprise flitted across his face.

"...Arthur Kirkland?" He asked, making Alfred grin.

"Yup! And I'm Alfred F. Jones, the-"

"Biggest idiot since Feliciano." Arthur interrupted. Harry got up from his kneeling position.

"I'm Harry Potter." He introduced nervously. "Sorry for asking but what are you doing here?"

"Alfred wanted to meet you. He's another friend of your parents, and he was in the country." Arthur said smoothly. "I apologize for the interruption, but as you can see Alfred can be pretty… insistent."

Harry glanced over at the man who currently looked more like an excitable puppy.

"Ah."

Arthur nodded back. Alfred frowned at the pair of them, feeling like he was the butt of some sort of secret English joke.

"So where's your folks?" He asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from wherever it had been before. Both of the Nations noticed when Harry's expression soured at the mention of his relatives.

"They're inside. You're not dressed as wizards, so you must have read my letter. I'm surprised that they haven't come out already to see who I'm talking to, but I don't think meeting them is a good idea." Harry explained, "They can be hard to handle sometimes."

"We could go somewhere else." Arthur suggested. Harry glanced down at the flowerbed beside him, then reluctantly declined.

"I've got to finish this, the Dursleys would get mad if I left right now. You could come back later…?" Harry sounded hopeful, even if his expression was still sour.

"We can deal with the Dursleys when we get back. I'm sure they'll be happy to meet us!" America said, grinning. To Harry it looked like he was being overly optimistic, but Arthur could hear the more sinister edge to his voice. "So, got anywhere in mind?"

Harry thought for a moment. He and the Dursleys had something like a truce at the moment, where Harry would do his chores and not talk to the Dursleys, and the Dursleys would leave him alone or risk his magical wrath. It was a decent truce and he didn't want to ruin it, but he wanted to talk to the friends of his parents.

"We could go to the park," Harry suggested, "So long as Dudley's not around no one will bother us."

"The park it is then!" Alfred decided. "Artie, where is it?"

"Shouldn't you ask the person who lives here? I'm not expected to know every street of every neighborhood of my-"

"I'll show you." Harry interrupted, not wanting to stay here for the Dursleys to find them. "Follow me."

Harry lead them to the park, and then to the swings. It was mostly deserted, and the two kids that were there left when they spotted Harry. Arthur frowned after them. Harry wasn't sure if it was because he were displeased or if it was just one of his regular frowns, since Arthur frowned a lot. Alfred settled himself on one of the swings and waited until the other two had sat down as well to start.

"Since Arthur interrupted me before I'll introduce myself. I'm Alfred F. Jones, a friend of your parents! And this is Artie-" "Arthur." "-Kirkland, another friend of your parents! Artie's known them for longer but he's also super boring and probably just talked about tea and books."

"I'll have you know that we had very engaging discussions about complex magical theories!"

Alfred grinned at Harry. "See, boring! I've never been a fan of magic either, but it can be pretty useful. The first time I met your dad and Sirius we made a flying motorcycle! Well, we planned to make a flying motorcycle. We didn't actually start to make it for a few months, and before that we were just trying to figure out how to properly enchant everything and put it all together without blowing it up."

Harry's head was swimming with questions, so he started with the first one that came to mind.

"Sirius?" Harry was surprised to see a scowl (one he could determine as an I-am-angry scowl and not just a regular one) appear on Arthur's face.

"Sirius Black was your father's best friend. He's in Azkaban- prison- for betraying them." He said curtly. The mood darkened as surprise, betrayal, and anger flashed across Harry's face.

"He- what?"

"He betrayed them." Arthur expanded, "They were under a spell that hid them completely unless the secret keeper told their location, the Fidelius Charm. Sirius was a spy for Voldemort, and he told him their location. After that he ran, and was confronted by Peter Pettigrew, another one of your parents' friends. Sirius killed Peter, as well as 13 muggles, and laughed as the aurors arrested him."

Harry needed a moment to take everything in. His parents' friend had betrayed them. His father's best friend, Arthur had called him.

Alfred leaned over to Harry.

"Arthur was out of the country at the time. When he came back he was devastated. Me and another one of your parents' friends, Francis, were there."

"You were sad too!" Arthur said, as if trying to defend himself. Alfred just shrugged.

"They were good people. But I wasn't the one who kept something!"

"You kept something?" Harry cut in, "What was it?" Arthur looked uncomfortable.

"It's yours actually, I just didn't know if you still wanted it. It's a stuffed barn owl I gave to you when you were less than a year old."

"You also gave him that annoying toy dog! Lily would've thrown it out if Harry and Sirius didn't like it so much." Alfred reminded him. Harry interrupted before yet another argument could happen.

"I do still want it, if it's alright with you." Harry was trying to conceal how excited he felt. Even though it had been given to him by Arthur, it was still something he'd had when his parents were still around. Arthur paused for a moment.

"It's at home. I can bring it to you sometime." He offered. Harry nodded.

"I'd like that."

The trio was quiet for a few moments as Arthur and Harry gathered their thoughts. Alfred put a quick end to that.

"That's enough about us, now it's your turn!" He announced, "We haven't seen you for over ten years, we want to know how you've been!" Arthur nodded.

"Albus Dumbledore kept your location a secret, telling everyone that it's for your own safety." He frowned. "I understand, but I wish I'd been able to visit you at some point." Harry frowned as well. Dumbledore was the reason why he was stuck with the Dursleys? He hadn't put much thought into it before, but his parents obviously had friends. Why couldn't one of them have taken him in instead?

Alfred continued talking, seemingly oblivious to Harry's inner turmoil.

"And we already know how you feel about your relatives, so tell us about school! How's Pigwarts?"

"Hogwarts, Alfred. I swear if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times."

"Maybe you shouldn't have named it something ridiculous then!"

"I didn't name it! And your school is hardly better with a name like Ill-liver-money."

"Ilivermorny. And at least it isn't named after pig skin!"

Harry found himself interrupting their argument yet again. At this rate they were even worse than Ron and Hermione!

"What's Ilivermorny?" He asked.

"It's America's school of magic." Arthur told him.

"One of America's schools of magic." Alfred corrected. "It's the most well known out of them, and supposedly the best."

"Supposedly?" Harry hadn't heard of other magic schools before.

"As I said, it's the most well known. It's also pretty stuffy, and it's really expensive so it's mainly used by the upper class. Unless you get a scholarship of course, there's quite a few of those." Alfred explained. "But we've gotten off topic! How was Hogwarts?"

"About time you get it right." Arthur grumbled. The other two ignored him. Instead, Harry gave them a brief summary of his year at Hogwarts.

The pair was left stunned.
"Artie, do all of your magical kids have to fight trolls and go through insane gauntlets?" Alfred asked.

"They bloody don't!" Arthur replied, the volume startling Harry. "What the hell does Dumbledore think he's doing? Trolls, a cerberus, and even the Philosopher's stone! And for the record, what the hell is Flamel thinking, letting the Stone out of his hands! I swear I'm going to give Albus a piece of my mind, has he gone insane?" At this point Arthur was up and pacing in front of the swing set.

"Calm down Artie, I'm sure it's not as bad as it sounds!" Alfred tried to pacify Arthur, but it didn't do much good.

"Not as bad as it sounds? The entire next generation of the Wizarding World was put in danger! He had Voldemort as a teacher!" Alfred paused in his attempts to calm Arthur down.

"Okay so maybe it is as bad as it sounds." He admitted, "But at least nobody got hurt!"

"Ronald Weasley got a concussion! Harry would have been dead if not for Lily's protections!" Arthur shot back.

"It really wasn't that bad." Harry told him. "Just a few days in the hospital wing." Arthur looked like he wanted to argue, but he chose to close his eyes and count to ten instead. It was no use getting angry with Harry when Dumbledore was the one endangering the students. Before they could continue their conversation they were interrupted by the arrival of a group of children. One of them, the really fat one that seemed to be the leader, recognized Harry.

"Hey! Shouldn't you be busy looking after the flowers?" The fat one called over. His friends snickered like he'd said something funny. Arthur raised one bushy eyebrow at Harry.

"You know them?" He asked. Harry nodded.

"The fat one's Dudley, my cousin." Alfred grinned.

"Might as well introduce ourselves then!" Harry protested but Alfred was already up and making his way towards the group.

"Don't worry about Alfred, he can take care of himself. It'll take more than a twelve year old to hurt him." Arthur reassured him. "Git's practically made of steel."

"Hi! My name's Alfred F. Jones, I was a friend of your aunt!" Alfred greeted, holding his hand out and smiling to Dudley. Dudley glared suspiciously.

"Aunt Marge?"

"No, the other one. Lily Potter. Harry's mom!" Alfred explained. Dudley's expression changed from suspicious to frightened and angry.

"What do you want?" He asked. Alfred continued smiling.

"I just wanted to see how Harry was doing! It's been eleven years, and I wanted to make sure that he's doing alright. Y'know, make sure he's happy and all." Despite his continued smile and apparent friendliness, Dudley started changing colors in a way that was reminiscent of Vernon.

"Are you a freak too?" Alfred's smile became sharper, and Harry heard Arthur "He's done it now." from beside him.

"That's pretty rude of you, I was just being polite." Alfred finally lowered his hand. "Calling someone a freak usually makes them pretty mad…"

At his words Dudley was finally scared enough to try throwing a punch at him. From Harry's perspective it seemed pretty weak, since it had absolutely no affect on Alfred. Harry was surprised at how tough Alfred was. He knew from experience how much Dudley's punches hurt. Arthur stretched and walked over to Alfred.

"Oi, get lost." He told the now terrified boys. They turned tail and ran, and Arthur turned towards Alfred. "Was that really necessary? They're only children." Alfred shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets.

"They needed a good shock. Maybe they'll be nicer now!" Alfred looked over his shoulder to Harry. "Hey, we should get you home. It's getting pretty late and I want the chance to talk to your aunt and uncle before I head back to my hotel." Harry was stunned at how easily Alfred had dealt with Dudley and his gang, so he nodded and followed them as they made their way back to number four.