THE YOUNGEST OLDEST PROFESSOR

CHAPTER ONE: BLOOD AND JOB APPLICATIONS

A/N: Yes, I know, I've got a bloody thousand fanfictions I haven't finished yet. And I do intend to get back to them. I just currently want to concentrate all of my time into writing one, good, long fanfiction that I really enjoy writing and here it is. This is my first crossover so I don't really know how it's going to go but I'll try my best. Anyways: Enjoy :3

The large Manor House at the edge of London, where the city gave way to rolling fields and countryside, was a mystery. Such a sight was not that peculiar in the Isle of Britain but what made it different was the sheer size of it. What a passer by wouldn't know is that the house was far larger even than how it appeared, the rooms extending deep into the ground and the interior far larger than the exterior. As if by magic. It would take one years to travel through the whole thing and the house was inescapable if you happened to get lost.

Of course for a house of such magnitude you would expect a rather large family to live there along with several servants, maids, butlers, a gardener, cleaners: just a general bundle of staff to help around and about. But what was possibly even more peculiar than the size of the house was the fact that only one man lived within it. Now it wasn't an old, greying man that you may expect to live alone in such an old house but it was a young man who looked to be about twenty three years old, barely out of the clutches of adolescent and puberty. What such a man was doing all alone up there was beyond anyone's knowledge in the surrounding areas.

Since the man lived alone there was no one there to hear his screams. Arthur Kirkland, for that was the man's name, thrashed in his bed. It almost seemed as if he was having a bad dream, and in some ways he was. But this 'dream' wasn't an element of his imagination, it was real. What was really happening to real people. His people. Because what his neighbours didn't know was that this man was England.

England let out a scream of agony, clutching his chest as blood splattered his bed sheets. When an attack took place it was always his lungs that were first to give out, lungs were such delicate things. He coughed fitfully, each one giving his blanket a new coating of red. Normally a few of his citizens' deaths would hurt him, yes, but he wouldn't be damaged so dreadfully. But this was no ordinary attack. No, it was magic.

After several more minutes of thrashing, coughing and screaming England say bolt upright in his bed, gasping desperately for breath. He sat stiffly like that for a moment before breaking the ringing silence "H-he's back." He whispered to himself, his eyes wide with terror. He then curled up into a ball, the blanket pulled firmly around him like a forcefield as he rocked back and forth "He's back, he's back, he's back." Arthur whispered to himself repeatedly, indulged in horror.

After recovering England shook his head firmly, scowling to himself. He looked out the window and the darkness of the four AM hour. There was no way he was going to get back to sleep so he made his way to his kitchen, a single blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Even though it was the middle of August the summer had decided it didn't want to make an appearance, leaving the island chilly and grey.

England filled the kettle and flicked it on, getting a large mug out from the cupboard and a bag of earl grey. He then filled the cup, the teabag inside, and added sugar and milk. He took the mug and a whole packet of chocolate hobnobs with him as he settled on the worn looking sofa-rocking chair that he favoured.

Sipping his tea and dunking the biscuits England contemplated what he should do. The visions he'd had were proof that Voldemort was back. But what to do? As a country he had the ability to crush the dark wizard out of existence without any effort at all. But unfortunately he wasn't allowed to do that, which was a shame really. He had to stand back and let everything take its course. It was infuriating.

Arthur pursed his lips in thought. Well… he couldn't literally destroy Voldemort's being without there being shock waves in time (damn that cursed prophecy restricting him). Oh yes, he knew all about the prophecy. How could he not? He was England after all. Anyway he couldn't directly kill Voldemort… but that left the indirect which was a rather large window. He smirked as a plan formed in his head. "Well then, looks like I am going to Hogwarts."

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

It would be my greatest pleasure if you would consider me for the a possible candidate for the role of

England paused in thought. What should he apply for? Assistant professor! Yes. The more he thought about it the more perfect he decided it would be. For starters he knew for a fact that the job had not been filled for centuries therefore it was bound to be open for him. As well as this it would allow him to travel freely around the school and he wouldn't be stuck with specific class work he had no interest in focussing on. He would also probably be looked down upon by a lot of people and throughout his long existence he had learnt something: underestimation is key.

Assistant professor for the coming year. I assure you I am fully qualified for the job having received the highest education the magic community can provide and getting full marks in all my formal and informal examinations. Find enclosed with this letter my various qualifications and education details. If you require any other information from me I will gladly send it and I would be more than happy to attend any physical interviews. Thank you for your time.

Yours sincerely,

Arthur Oliver Kirkland

Done. It was short, aye, but to the point. England took the lit candle from his desk and blew out the flame then pressed an edge of it to the letter, which he'd folded closed, the royal velvet-red wax dripped to form a pool on the letter. England then picked up a metal forged stamp and pressed it firmly onto the cooling wax. He pulled it away to reveal the Kirkland family's floral coat of arms (A/N: a rose, thistle, daffodil and shamrock incase you were wondering). He blew it once before setting it aside to dry.

Arthur sighed ran a hand over his face. As much as he hated to admit it Voldemort's attacks were really draining him. He winced, if he didn't do something soon then it was just going to get a whole lot worse. England sighed again, he didn't think he'd be able to handle going through that again. He eyed the drying sealed parchment, that was his hope. What if Albus refused to give him the job? It always aggravated him when his own people got in his way. But he doubted Albus would, he'd been rather fond of the chap ever since he was little, even if his morals were corrupt once in a while. And besides, a letter from a wizard whom no one was heard of from a pureblood family that time has forgotten? Applying for assistant professor even though he had the grades to be any position he wanted? From what England knew of Albus he would not turn him away so easily, at least not without giving this 'mystery' a good job at cracking first.

Deciding that the wax had dried enough England took the parchment in hand and walked to the window, which opened itself at Arthur's approach. England looked out of the window and instantly a sleek black owl flew to perch on his finger, its eyes an electric blue. Never mind that this owl did not fit the description of any known owl type, or any species at that. The very lands it's self required it's presence therefore it was there, no questions to be asked. If the owl was in any way alarmed by its sudden coming into existence then it didn't show it, only looking expectantly up at England.

The said man chuckled and rubbed the owl under its head fondly "Hello old girl, will you deliver this letter for me? To the head master of Hogwarts." Upon hearing the bird's coo of assent he fastened the letter to the bird's leg then nodded its permission to leave. At England's nod the owl took a great swoop, cutting through the air in close resemblance to a Celtic arrow. Arthur watched the bird go with a small smile as he pulled the window closed.

England walked to his living room and turned the T.V. on, flicking it to the news channel reluctant to what he might find. And as expected the head lines were littered with unexplained deaths-it seemed as it hundreds of English citizens had just decided to drop dead. England let out a tortured sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. All he felt like doing was resuming his sleep, yet he knew indulging in such a thing would be insensible seen as it was now fast approaching eight am. But what were social standards when there was no one to observe you? He could easily sleep all day and sit doing paperwork at night, it's not like anyone would know or care. But for once today that wasn't the case for it was that time again in which he was forced to sit through hours on end of purposeless arguments and being stuck in a room of people whom hated him, with no means to escape. Yes, it was a world meeting. Fortunately it was held in his own country, hardly enough to make things good but at least it was tolerable this way.

England was rather tempted to skip the meeting all together before deciding that it would cause more hassle than it was worth. Honestly, when he was there he was overlooked and blatantly ignored yet the moment he tries to leave suddenly everyone notices and screams bloody murder over it! No, he would have to go.

He sighed yet again, turning the news off. He was depressed enough over it as it was. England then got up and went to get ready. After dressing he looked in the mirror and noticed, to his distaste, how sickly and pale he looked. He rubbed his face several times as he used a concealing spell then looked at himself again. Still pale and slightly sickly, but less alarmingly so. Hopefully no magic acknowledging nations would look at him for too long or they'd be able to see through his spell. Looking himself over one last time England nodded in approval and took a quick stride out of the door, opting to walk to the meeting place since he lived not to far from that area of London. Besides, the fresh air would do him good.

An hours walk/a severe drenching later England arrived at the meeting hall. He rather thought that the location in England was the finest out of all of the countries' but that was just his opinion. It had rained as he walked, his soaked trench-coat being evidence of that, but he hadn't minded it. The rain was refreshing and it helped minimise the head ache and fever caused by the morning's events. However he had no doubt the head ache would soon be returning.

The Englishman slung his coat over the back of his chair and organised his notes neatly as he waited for the other nations to arrive, enjoying the peace and quiet he currently had. Somehow knowing you were on the verge of chaos helped the solitude become less lonely and more blissful. As nations slowly filed in every ten minutes or so Arthur found himself not minding. It was like dipping your feet into a pool, different but pleasant.

"STAY CALM EVERYONE THE HERO HAS ARRIVED!" …and that was like being chucked head first into the deep end. England felt his eye twitch as his nerves pulsated, already having given up. England tried not to make eye contact as he saw the yank looking for a seat. As he felt sky blue eyes fixate on the empty chair next to him then, in turn, he himself, England stiffened, trying not to move. Maybe if he didn't move the teen would go away…?

"Heya there Iggy, whassup?" Oh boy. England could sense the ear to ear grin even without looking at the approaching boy. A loud thud indicated the American claiming the chair. "Hey, dude, I asked you a question, how've ya been? I haven't seen you for AGES! You should totally get a mobile or something, then I'd be able to call you!" England took a deep breath and let it out, it would do him no good if he lost his temper already "America I do have a mobile and I give my number to you every. Single. Meeting!" That was met by an obnoxious laugh "Silly! What do you do to break your phone in between every meeting? You really are such a klutz!" England let his head fall back, resisting the urge to pull his dagger and stab someone. He didn't care whether it was him or America, either way he won. "First of all, I've had the same eyePhone0X for the last year. Second of all what the bloody hell is a klutz? Can you just bloody declare American as another language already? It'd be less painful!" "Dude, like eyePhone0X as in that British hacker phone that you insane limeys came up with that basically pirates everything off everyone in the world at one touch?" He frowned, met by a grin from the Englishman "Yeah that one."

A startled yelp from England cut off any reply America may have made. England was twitching menacingly as a peach-cream coloured hand intrusively cupped an area that England was really not comfortable with anyone touching. "France. Get. Off." England said, his tone of voice clearly displaying an internal desire for blood. He was met by an, in his opinion, extremely annoying laugh "Ah but Angleterre, your beautiful form is so enticing I cannot help myself. You cannot possibly be mad at me for being a man, can you?" The aura radiating off England wiped the smile off the man's face. "Francis if you don't get your hand off my cock right now I will fucking surgically remove it along with your balls." The Frenchman helped and instantly let go of England as if he had just burnt him.

Now finally able to relax England looked up to see that the table had been filled with people, as nations took their respective seats. England sighed, rearranging his notes and straightening his trousers (which had been ruffled by a certain Frenchman).

As the meeting started, England faced the speaker attentively who was, at that moment,

Germany. Arthur had his eyes wide and his pen hovering readily over his notebook, completely intent to watch the meeting's goings on as well as he could and try to squeeze as much usefulness out of the pathetic waist of time as he could. However, he soon found his concentration fading, which he found odd. Normally England could last much longer, it could scarcely have been a dozen minutes yet.

Even so, he found his eyelids drooping, though he would not let them close, and he fixated his gaze unseeingly at the blank wall, his eyes lidded. His mind was blank and thoughtless, his body overrun with the odd feeling that was filling him. The meeting room faded out of focus as his eyes and ears stopped registering his surroundings.

England frowned. It was an odd feeling. It filled his stomach and chest, spreading throughout his body. He even felt it in the very tips of his fingers and toes. His joints throbbed with an annoying pain, and he felt all the energy leave his body. The feeling wasn't exactly bad, just uncomfortable. With a convulsion of his body, that brought burning liquid to the back of his throats and set fire to his body with shocks of pain. Nope. It was definitely not bad. It was bloody horrible. England barely stifled a cry of pain but a small whimper escaped his throat despite his best efforts.

"-gland? England!" And angry shouting snapped his attention, he looked up instantly to see what this was about, trying to subtlety rub his chest to somehow lessen the pain. His gaze was met by seemingly the whole contents of the meeting room, staring back at him. "Wha-?" He managed to get out, his voice hoarse from his bout of sickness. Germany scowled at him, seemingly not impressed "It is your turn to share your opinions on the given political matters. Have you even been paying attention at all today? Even America has been making a note or two around his doodles." England blinked, his brain foggy. Political opinion…? Oh that's right. He was in a meeting. Meeting…

A raw sounding, hacking cough wracked his body, blocking any reply he would have had. "Ve~ Mr England, are you alright?" A concerned looking Italy asked from Germany's side. England opened his mouth to reply that he was 'quite alright' and that it was 'just the blasted flu' but a gurgle of blood spotted from his mouth as a horrible feeling filled his gut and stomach, his lungs burning. There were several cries of surprise and Arthur felt several hands grab him, shake him, hold him to their chest. If he had been able to comprehend the sounds he would have heard people asking if he was okay, what was happening, what could they do to help and the likes.

But England didn't hear it. All he heard was the screams of the attack victims as they were brutally killed or tortured. And always, always that horrible green light. It burnt. Why wouldn't the burning stop? He couldn't take the pain!

As England was inflicted with these horrible visions the meeting room assented into panic. Because as the attacks got worse so did England's state. He was no longer sitting rigidly, looking deathly pale, but now he was coughing fitfully as if he was trying to exhale his lungs and between each hacking cough blood spurted freely. And then there was the screaming, getting more desperate as his body spasmed with pain.

"Merde!" France cursed, catching England before he fell and slowly lowered him to the floor before he hurt himself. As England thrashed on the floor America held him firmly to make sure he didn't shatter his legs by kicking something, his eyes were wide with horror. Canada ran from where he had been sitting to aid his twin "Sit upright behind him and hold him to your chest, leaning slightly forwards. That'll make sure he doesn't choke on the blood." He turned to the other alarmed countries that had formed a ring around them "You lot go back to the meeting table and try to work out why this is happening, we will try to check where the blood has come from in his body and work on helping him." The nations nodded and went to it, if they were surprised at Canada's sudden take in lead they didn't say anything.

Matthew took a ragged breath, raking a hand through his hair as he looked at his carer in distress. He then looked up at America, scared and confused blue eyes mirroring his own, he gave him an encouraging smile before instructing him "Continue to hold him like that, if you notice him choking or making any gasping noises tell me. France can you push gently on areas of his body, starting from his pelvis moving all the way up to his throat? I want to check where exactly the blood is coming from that'll help us know how severe this is and what we can expect to happen and do to help."

In the mean time the other nations sat at the table, trying to ignore the other four on the floor, as they put their brains together to work out what could have caused this. "His economy isn't struggling, there haven't been any money issues, no scandals, people seem to be doing okay, no rebellions or riots, no terrorist attacks or anything or the sorts I can see, strictly speaking he should be completely fine!" Germany said, reading the current facts and statistics about England.

"Could it be damage to his body not his landmass?" China suggested. Spain shook his head "I don't think that would effect him this badly, well it could but I cannot think of what he would have done to cause it."

Germany' brow furrowed "Has anyone seen this happen to him, or anyone before?" Norway shifted slightly, a look of unease crossing him "What is it Norway san?" Japan inquired, noticing his behaviour. Norway sighed "It's nothing. It can't be it, this just all made me think of something that's all." "Just tell us," Germany urged "It may not be related but it could get us thinking."

Norway locked his jaw before sighing again and complying "Alright. You'll all laugh anyway. As you may or may not know about 15 years ago there was a massive attack on the British magical community. The mass murderer and general psychopath self named 'Voldemort' wanted to kill everyone who wasn't just how he wanted, wanted to rule the world, have power, immortality and all that basic shit. As you all know having loads of your people murdered in cold blood fucks you up pretty bad, well it's way worse when they are killed with magic. Back then this is what England looked like at first, before things got bad. Anyway, like I said, that can't be it, Voldemort died ages ago, a spell of his ricocheted. But you asked me to say, and I did."

There was a silence as the room processed this new information. "Dude magic doesn't exist! How could people be killed with something non existent?" America laughed off the theory before getting back to concentrate on England at an annoyed 'tsk' from Canada, who was apparently extremely controlling when caring for a patient. "That's big scale stuff you're talking about Norway, how could all that happen without us noticing? We may not always ask how each others days are but that doesn't mean we are blind." Other general complaints and disagreements with Norway's speech could be heard.

The platinum blonde rolled his eyes "I did say that couldn't be what's happening now! So what does it matter? You made me say it! If you didn't want to listen don't ask me to speak." Romania frowned "Hey, Voldemort's attacks is not something to be laughed about! It was so severe all your magic communities must have gotten affected by the shock waves, just imagine what poor England must have felt like! And now you all laugh off his pain?"

Canada huffed slightly at them all from where he was tending to England. If that lot stopped fighting and arguing for once in their life they may actually get something productive done. He thought that since this was a rather urgent matter they make take it more seriously, but apparently not.

Concentrating once again on England, Canada frowned in concern "Thanks France." He muttered once the said nation had finished doing what he had asked him to. He didn't like the results. From what they had done he discovered that the blood was coming from his lungs mainly but different sections of his abdomen were leaking blood too, though less so. The blood was thick and a bright red, indicating that it was coming from an extremely fresh 'wound' and were from a more vital section of the body. He sighed rubbing England's hand softly "It's petty had. Looks like we should call an amb-"

Canada was cut off by a gasp from beneath him, he looked down to find England wide eyed and gasping for breath "England? Shit, are you okay? Crap, bad question okay um just stay calm everything's going to be fine." Noticing that he was choking Canada emptied England's mouth of the blood that was blocking his wind pipe.

Once the flash back had stopped, England instantly latched onto Canada's front gasping and panting "M-make him stop, make him s-stop, please please make him stop!" England groaned huskily, his mind still stuck in a flashback. Matthew held him tightly, stroking his hair soothingly "Shh shh what's wrong? Stop who?" England just shook his head and buried his face in Canada's chest as he calmed down from the horrific events.

Once he had regained his right mind his cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment. He recoiled from everyone around him "Ah terribly sorry dear boy. I'll be on my way before I cause any more trouble. Well cheerio."

By the time anyone had processed what had just happened all that was left behind of the Englishman was the pool of blood and the still swinging door.

England let out a shaky sigh. That hadn't been good. Now that he was away from all those curious eyes he could finally let down his mask. He really had been shaken by that. Who wouldn't? He had just had a vision of his own people being murdered that rendered him practically unconscious and hacking up blood in front of an entire meeting room of nations who had absolutely no idea what was happening to him and most didn't even accept the existence of magic!

He rubbed his chest. That'd hurt. But he'd have taken far worse pain if it would mean those poor, innocent people would be still alive. England sighed, he was not going to hear the end of this. Leaving in the middle of a meeting right after causing such a scene? Why it was unheard of! The chatter about it may even reach his big brothers… no he didn't want to think about that, he had enough problems as it was!

Pinching the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to take the head ache that was a plaguing him, England slowly ambled home. He was extremely grateful once again that the meeting was being held in his house, if he'd have to endure traveling in his painful state then he would probably do something uncouth like complain about his life to a stranger or fall asleep behind a dump or throw up in the middle of the street.

Arriving home, sighing, England collapsed onto the sofa, groaning as he rubbed his chest. How embarrassing that was. He popped the kettle on and made a tea to sooth his nerves and calm his insides. The pain was quick fading and after not too long he was sitting in a comfortable silence.

A tapping on the window made England start, and he looked up to see what was the cause. He was treated with the sight of the black owl he had sent to Hogwarts earlier, a letter inclosed within its beak. Hm… that's another way to get into Hogwarts, train yourself to be an owl animagus and no one will look at you twice. It was worrisome how many ways there were to breech the theoretically impenetrable grounds of Hogwarts.

Pushing those thoughts aside, England quickly went to open the window for the bird who gratefully hopped inside, dropping the letter into Arthur's extended hand "Thank you ever so much." England beamed at the bird who, after deciding it was no longer needed, flew out the window and once again ceased to exist.

England turned his gaze to the parchment, it was closed with the Hogwarts shield indented into white wax. Arthur supposed that using red, the general letter wax colour, would cause problems as it could be seen to be favouring Gryffindor. The nation shook his head with a chuckle, really the petty squabbling Hogwarts had amounted to via this whole house system was laughable. In his opinion it caused more problems than it solved. But he had to admit he did love it. The pride and competition and spirit amongst those you could relate to was positively charming.

He peeled open the letter and began to read:

Dear Mr A. Kirkland,

Thank you for your letter. I am glad to inform you that the role of assistant professor is currently vacant. Your qualifications are remarkable and I dare say you will find obtaining this post easy. However, before I give you the job I must insist in meeting you in person. I imply nothing against you, it is merely a formality. As I am sure you can understand I, as head master, must be convinced of the character of those I let onto the school grounds, for the safety of the students I am entrusted in caring for. And as you will know, these are trying times therefore one must be especially cautious. As well as this I find meeting you in person will help me understand whether you will be capable of meeting the requirements of the job, though I have no doubt you will.

I will not ask of you the effort to return a letter with a response on whether you will be

able to attend such a meeting. At any day for the next fortnight, from one till four in the afternoon, I shall be in my office available for an interview. Apparate on the day and time that is most convenient for you, holding this letter in hand, focussing on the emblem and it will take you safely to your destination. However, I must warn you that this will only work for one trip and only within the time I have specified.

If you choose to attend this meeting, I look forward to seeing you in person, Mr

Kirkland, and hopefully, if all goes well, at the school in the new school year.

~Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts headmaster

Arthur smirked slightly at the subtle accusations of him being a death eater or the likes. He had no doubt that, with the secretiveness that he would require in hiding the fact that he was a nation, several people would jump to the conclusion that he was a death eater, especially with the recent return of Voldemort.

England checked over the times and decided to go to Dumbledore tomorrow at two. Any time would be appropriate as he had no intention of meeting with any of the other nations so recently after the events of the meeting that day. But going early would get things over and done with and he could start getting ready for his new teaching role. Which may be quite a task. With him being the only assistant professor there he would be quite worked.

The role basically entailed that he would help any of the professors in any way they asked of him (within reason that is) and he would fill in for any that were vacant. He would also be working closely with the caretaker and helping him or her (it had been rather a while since he last knew the caretaker of Hogwarts so he doubted Gillian Doydrei was still working there or, in fact, alive at all) with whatever they needed. Basically he was general help for anyone who wanted it. Which didn't exactly narrow down his shopping list.

America pouted, looking genuinely concerned "Dude, what the hell happened back there? I've haven't seen Iggy hurt like that since the blitz!" Canada sighed, putting a comforting hand on his twin's shoulder "Alfred, I really don't know."

The American looked deep in thought "Hm clearly his land hasn't been damaged or his people. I can't think of how he could have been affected like this unless…" America's eyes widened in shock and a feeling of dread filled Canada "Alfred, not again. No!" The other nation took no notice of him, instead getting to his feet "The aliens have him!" Canada groaned "America, you're insane." But the said nation didn't listen, too preoccupied by muttering to himself about this so called alien attack.

"Oh gosh, America this wasn't an alien invasion! There was probably some bank problem or bad accident on a motor way or something." Canada argued, ignoring the fact that these things wouldn't have caused a nation to be affected so dramatically. "Bro, I don't have time for your logical reasoning. This is bigger than just England, if this is aliens then the whole world is at risk! We have to act fast!"

Canada sighed, there was no reasoning with his brother when he had become this obsessed with an idea "Yes, Alfred, sure. But, uh, maybe we shouldn't be so hasty? Let's wait for the next world meeting to see if England is okay then, and we can also gather more people to, uh, save the world from aliens. And in the mean time we can research. So let's not barge into England's house uninvited screaming about aliens quite yet, eh?" America looked at him for a second, distrustingly before shrugging "Sounds okay. We really should get our numbers up and inside knowledge before declaring it war against these aliens!"

"DECLARING WAR?!"

A/N: First chapter finished! Did you guys like it? I really hope you did. Follow, favourite and review if you liked it and want to come with me on this journey of whatever the fuck this turns out as. And most importantly, if you are reading this then you have actually gotten through all that torture without stopping reading so thank you very much I really appreciate it! Until next time (whenever the hell that is) Bye XD