Throughout hist'ry, time, and space, f'r an inexplicable reason, th're has't at each moment been representatives of cities, states, provinces, nations, and empires. Nay two art the same, at each moment diff'ring in some way, nay matt'r how bawbling the diff'rence. Some hadst a diff'rent facial structureth. Some hadst diff'rent col'r'd hairs, 'r diff'rent dialects and accents. Some w're physically female, and some, physically male.
But those gents w're not human by definition. Those gents w're did separate from the beings those gents w're madeth from by their m'rtality. As longeth as a representative hadst something to representeth, those gents wouldst continueth to liveth. But, if 't be true an area wast masterless 'r did destroy, the representative wouldst vade. T'wast their f'rm of death.
In a way, t wast because those gents w're guarante'd to disappeareth one couldst argueth those gents w're human-but being immune to cannons, boiling oil, and arrows, those gents couldst easily beest mistaken f'r demons. Currently, only a few representatives has't ev'r been hath found, and few'r spoken to. Those gents may beest hiding 'mongst us, guiding us at our w'rst times, 'r those gents may beest the reasons f'r our suff'ring. All we knoweth is yond these art God's beings.
-Excerpt from Mysterious and Inexplicable Madnesses, written by Unknown. Published, 1531
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Author's note: References for naming and such are at the very bottom of each chapter and will vary for the characters present in each chapter. I hope you enjoy.
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It was a unusually warm and sunny day in London, and England despised it. Usually, he'd welcome the sun with open arms and an uncharacteristically warm smile, but it wasn't the actual Sun who was visiting today. No, just her blinding rays which made it impossible to go outside without being blinded by something or feeling baked after just a few minutes out of the sun.
Worst of all, he'd expected chilly weather today, and so, dressed accordingly. In his tweed suit, he was sweating and uncomfortable, wanting nothing more than to strip down to his boxers, but he was an Englishman and above that.
So he'd suffer in silence, just like how he'd suffered through hot sweaty uniforms in Africa and Asia and Oceania. He had a reputation to uphold, and he would not let Liza's creation ruin his day.
He walked as briskly as he could from his car to his office, dodging pedestrians and cars as easily as he dodged charging soldiers. Once he was welcomed by cool, air-conditioned air, his anger towards his old friend faded to mere irritation, and he forgave her for it. Majority of his people were probably overjoyed at the sight of her presence, anyways.
Quick footsteps to the receptionist's desk, where he gave a gentle nod to the young yet efficient and dutiful boy named Dustin. He was signed in immediately, and given a smile.
"Good morning, Mr. Kirkland!" England, perhaps accidentally, or perhaps not, glanced at the space above Dustin's head. There, floating the usual, were the numbers.
Dustin Abel Morgan
19
27041972-11092001
England replied with the exact thing he always replied with on days like this, brushing off the numbers. He'd seen them since the first time he'd met the boy. "It's a pleasure to see you, Dustin."
By now, the phrases themselves had no real meaning between them, but instead, were an indicator of how England was feeling. Certain replies were used on days he knew he was going to have a headache and wished to be left alone as much as possible. Other replies indicated that he was confident, or sick, or annoyed. Dustin picked up on them quick enough, and now, it was easy to just lessen the stress of the day by indiscreetly telling the secretary how to handle things for the day.
Excellent staff, and under England's watch, Dustin would be guaranteed a job under him as long as he wished. He was much more confident than many of England's own companions.
Speaking of which, he'd need to contact Estonia about an internet problem. Funny things, computers were. Being able to store almost all of humanity's knowledge in a cube-shaped machine no bigger than an adult man's torso.
He left Dustin to his work and stepped into his office, setting down his briefcase and relaxing into his custom-made chair. The beautiful, hand carved desk made by none other than Thomas Chippendale at which he sat dutifully filled up with the day's forms and papers, all of which would eventually leave the desk's surface at some point in the next month.
Yet, as he unpacked the immense amount of paper from his briefcase, one of the papers caught his eye. Or rather, an envelope tucked between petitions made of thick, heavy parchment sealed with a red wax seal.
Only a select few people he knew would use such a traditional form of an envelope-especially in an age when e-mails were becoming more and more common.
He put it aside to make sure it would not disappear from sight underneath the regular papers, and finished unpacking. He stared at the envelope, and it seemed to stare back, as if daring England to open it.
He ignored its pull and got to work. If the sender had something truly urgent to say, they would call him. He would read it at lunch.
And he held himself to it. Even as he snuck a few glances at the letter, he forced himself to push through the same boring papers he'd been going through ever since he was competent enough to read and make decisions. Same boring request after boring request. He skimmed them efficiently, eyes trained after centuries to recognize important words and random proper nonsense thrown in to maintain social etiquette.
Within the short hours of the morning, he blew through a decent enough stack before lunch. Neatly clipping together the papers, he put them away in his briefcase, closed and locked it. The letter seemed to be begging to be opened, pleading that its message was urgent.
He gave in, and as he sent Dustin to make him tea, he gently opened the letter, careful not to destroy the wax seal. Call him silly, but he always saved them if he could afford to.
Gently, he removed the paper. It was newly made, not old parchment you found in museums. He unfolded the pages previously sealed inside, and began to read the words written in emerald green ink.
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,
It has come to my attention recently that, according to my predecessors, you are a highly educated and talented wizard with extensive knowledge on both Muggle and Magical history. While usually I would exclude someone as busy as you from the matters of a school for adolescent children, I have news that may e worth your time.
As you may know, the Dark Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has been terrorizing the wizarding world for years, and the only known survivor of his reign of terror is Harry Potter. This year, it has been determined he will be attending classes here at Hogwarts, and will be taught properly how to fight against You-Know-Who with all the knowledge and power the wizarding world has available.
It is because of this that I have decided to ask someone with as extensive experience and talent with magic, the muggle world from which Harry has been raised, and battle, that you not only teach at Hogwarts as the History of Magic teacher, but give Harry personal lessons on how to prepare for his final fight against his destined enemy.
Of course, you are not at all obligated to accept this offer, but it shall remain open as long as Harry attends Hogwarts. I assume that the recent deaths have not affected your body kindly and wish for both your health and Harry's education to be stellar.
I wish to hear from you soon.
Yours sincerely,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
He had to re-read the letter, as if it was written in Linear B. The letters simply did not click. Papers that suggested a war was coming? He was used to those. Letters that said someone close had died? More common than England ever wanted it to be. Heck, he knew that even young Dustin was to perish within the next ten years, untimely ripped from the surface of the Earth. But a man, the head of a school which wasn't even in his domain, but Scotland's, contacted him about teaching children when it was clear he was aware of England's status of a nation.
He was asking a nation, the former head of the British Empire, to personally teach a boy who he had never met, only heard whispers of.
Good heavens this was a lot to unpack. He gently turned over the paper, sure he'd seen writing on the back when he first extracted it from the letter.
P.S. If you accept, come and visit me by the 30th of July so we can get you properly set up.
Today was the 27th. Goddammit. He hated nothing more than a small time limit, even if his mind was made up. It just so happened that when it wasn't, and this was one of those times, that he only became more frustrated.
He wanted to burn the letter and watch it crumble into cinders, but he wouldn't. He just tucked it back inside the envelope and slid it into his briefcase.
He needed a good, proper lunch to think this over.
He pulled out his Motorola mobile phone and dialed in a number he knew by heart. And knowing his obsession with punctuality, England suspected his call would be answered after one ring.
"'Ello?"
It took two, but close enough.
"Hello, Ollie. Mind if you accompany me to lunch today?"
He heard a chuckle from the other end of the phone. "I'd love to! Fancy myself to bring anything? Tea, biscuits, scones?"
England shook his head, even though Oliver was not there. Force of habit, he supposed. "No, that's quite alright. Just the usual spot."
"Alright, Sir Party Pooper. I'll be over in 10. Toodles!" The twat hung up before England could put another word in. As much as he despised his...other self? Twin? Whatever Oliver was, it didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. He was still a homicidal maniac with a penchant for baking and home decor. He would never willingly spend time with someone like that, but since he, Ollie, Olivia, and Alice were physically linked, he didn't have much choice in the matter. Also, Oliver made a great Devil's Advocate when he tried.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair, glaring at the briefcase.
Couldn't he go one week without something important happening?
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By the time England arrived, he could already see Oliver chatting with one of the workers. So far, it seemed he managed to pass himself off as sane, since the waitress was smiling gently and not out of fear. They were discussing something funny, since both laughed.
England hopped out of his car and walked over to the outdoors table, sitting opposite of Oliver.
"Oh Rose, this is my brother, Arthur. Artie, this is Rosemary. She stops by the bakery sometimes."
The bakery.
England knew immediately what that meant. This pleasant-looking, middle aged woman had, at one point or another in her life, killed someone or stumbled upon a body and hid it. Well, so long as he had a good lunch without a side of murder, he wouldn't bother. With Ollie's influence in both the government and the underground, there would be no way to charge her without pulling some of his own strings, and by that point it'd be too large of a hassle to be worth it.
"Lovely to meet you, miss." As usual, the numbers were there.
Rosemary Marie Roberts
42
11011949-01072028
"The pleasure is all mine, sir. Would you like some time to look over our menu?"
He'd been to this restaurant since it's founding over a century ago, and very few changes had been made to the menu since then. No, he would have his regular. "I think we're alright. I would like a cup of black tea to start."
Rosemary wrote it down. "And for you, Oliver?"
"I'll have an Arnold Palmer."
England inwardly winced. The drink was disgustingly sweet, American, and made of iced tea. It was the least British drink you could ask for, except say, a Coca-Cola. Then again, Ollie wasn't exactly the type to conform to British standards.
"I'll have the out for you in a moment!" Rosemary declared, shutting her notepad closed and walking off to inside the restaurant.
Both men's gazes followed her until she was out of sight before either engaged in conversation. Oliver playfully folded his hands across the table, smirking.
"So, Artie," He said it so condescendingly that England was already pissed off. "What's happening? You'd never invite me to have lunch with you one on one unless you either want to chide me for my hobbies or engage in serious conversation about the dark and unsightly."
The way the words bubbled out of the freckled man's mouth was the way a child happily sung their ABC's. With spring, bounciness, and happiness. No detection of being unnerved, or worried, or confused.
"It's the latter, mostly. How much are you involved in our wizarding community?"
He could tell Ollie was taken by surprise by the way his aquamarine-colored eyes rounded. But soon, surprise was replaced by a feline grin. "Not much, I suppose. I attended one of the schools for fun a few decades ago, but it was a bore. No poisoning! Unbelievable."
"Quite." England clipped. "Either way, you're here because you are the closest of us to my office. The head of Hogwarts has asked for me to teach at their school-"
He put up a finger to silence Ollie as soon as he saw his twin part his lips. "-Let me finish. He asked me to teach at his school because Harry Potter, the chosen hero to kill the Dark Lord, will be attending this fall. He knows exactly who I am, and how well versed I am with magic. He wants me to privately tutor the boy on how to win duels, learn advanced spells, battle tactics, et cetera. If I am to accept his offer, I will not be in contact with the muggle world for several months, hence why you're here. I trust you, Alice, and Olivia to run our country more than I'd trust Wales or Scotland or Northern Ireland."
He put his finger down, signalling to Ollie he was permitted to talk.
"What you're saying is, to summarize, you want us to handle our share of government nonsense plus a fraction of yours while you go off to teach some child magic?"
Not exactly how he would put it, but in essence, it was correct. "Yes."
Oliver laughed. "That's brilliant. You, a teacher! Oh my, I must tell Francois about this."
"No. You will not mention this to anyone. You and I know that none of France can keep their bloody mou-"
"Language." Oliver held out his portable swear jar.
England glared, yet dropped a coin in. "-Mouths shut. I do not want to barraged with more work than usual, and trust me, telling any other nation will make my nightmares a reality. I just need to teach without distractions or interruptions."
Oliver stared at him, contemplative. He was silent for a long while, something that usually wouldn't both England unless it was America, Prussia, Denmark, Poland, Italy...actually he'd by bothered if a lot of his companions were silent. But with Ollie, it was especially unnerving.
"I'll do it. Not sure about Ally, but I know Vee would accept as well."
England exhaled. "I cannot thank you enough Ollie. I'll pay you back somehow."
He instantly regretted his words as Oliver's face took a much more sinister light.
"Oh, I know. The only payment I'll accept is an afternoon of you and I trying out my cupcake recipes. I can't get the cyanide ratio quite right."
England's stomach did somersaults at that thought, but he pushed it down. If you ignored the fact you were being poisoned, Ollie's cupcakes were excellent, just also sweet enough to make America sick.
As if perfectly timed, Rosemary came out with their drinks. England drank his tea much quicker than he would've preferred, but he had work to finish. "Ollie, lovely talking to you as always. I'll call you and the girls tonight." He paid for his tea, waved goodbye, and drove away.
Oh, the amount of things he would need to get done in three day's time.
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The day seemed to whiz by as he pushed through his stacks of boring papers with renewed vigor. Starting tomorrow, he would have no government duties for a year or so, just teaching.
Oh, the things he would have to brush up on. Teaching history of magic wouldn't be incredibly difficult, he'd just need to read a few books to remember everything. Then, he'd also have to gauge how familiar the students were with muggle history, because a lot of their meddling affected him and his country directly and vice versa. Finally, he'd have to familiarize himself with modern wizard habits, slang, and such. Whether the term "Aurei sanguinis" was still in use. That sort of things.
Hours slipped by as rain slipped off of window panes. He didn't notice the sun had set until he signed the last paper and tore his eyes away from the desk. Blimey, it was later than he usually stayed, and Ollie was probably waiting for his call. He packed up everything in a rush, locked his office, and said goodbye to the guard. Dustin was nowhere to be found, but that was reasonable he was only asked to work the standard hours of 9-5.
He still couldn't believe he would be going back to the wizarding world. It was like he was stepping back in time, but he didn't have to worry about mentioning things like World War 2 and accidentally causing a ripple in time.
...Or maybe it would. Last he checked, the magic community rarely ever mixed itself with the muggle world.
He would have to change that. Being isolationist was never a good tactic. Because, in a battle, a machine gun would be a better weapon than a wand. Yes, and pens were better than quills. He'd have to introduce them to the best of both worlds, fountain pens.
He really did love a good fountain pen.
His mind wandered off, thinking about the other useful and harmless things he could introduce to the Wizarding World(France so far had the highest achievement of introducing toilets to them), and England was sure to beat those bloody frogs one way or another.
He pulled into his garage, exited the car, and carried his briefcase inside his house.
As soon as he walked in, he knew someone was already there. The lights were on, and he could hear laughter from the parlour room. He was mildly cautious until he heard Ollie's unique laugh.
Instead of waiting, he came to England. Lovely. And then, assuming the masculine voice was Ollie's, the women were Olivia and Alice. He removed his shoes, and hat, put his unused coat on the rack, and walked into the parlous room.
"I thought I changed the lock."
Ollie batted his eyelashes innocently. "And I thought you knew by now that a little lock can't stop me."
England rolled his eyes. "Lovely to see you, Alice, Olivia."
Alice gave a curt, silent nod, eyes trained on a book. Olivia stood and gave England a hug, and knowing that he couldn't say no or else he would be forced to deal with two angry blue-eyed siblings, he hugged her back. "Ollie told us everything! That sounds absolutely amazing, going to a magic school! Coco said that she'd been there once before, but..."
Her pigtails seemed to droop. "I'll never be able to go, right? You and Ally are the magical ones."
That was true. While all four of them could see magical creatures, Ollie and Olivia were utterly useless at magic. He supposed that he and Alice were the representatives of the magical half of England, while Ollie and Olivia were the representatives of the criminal half of England.
"Nonsense." Alice spoke without tearing her eyes away from the book. "Muggles are still allowed in."
That was news to England. "Are you sure?"
"Of course. The first wizards were muggles who learned magic. What about muggle-borns? There's nothing about bloodlines that makes it exclusive. They just choose to only reveal how to get there to folk with the capability for magic in their veins."
"Then there's nothing stopping us from visiting you during Christmas, right?" Ollie chirped.
Olivia's eyes lit up, like how Hong Kong's used to when England allowed him to choose what tea they drank at tea-time. It was always Chinese style tea, but it was also always well made. If he didn't know better, he would've said that Olivia was a teenager, not physically 22.
"I wasn't planning on spending time at Hogwarts during Christmas." was what he planned to see before he saw Olivia's face. Goodness gracious, did she know how to manipulate him.
"I look forward to seeing you all there." He gave in. It was just one Christmas. He'd spent plenty in much worse places than a magical castle.
"I will be going between the two regularly to report to both ends what's going on." Alice snapped her book shut and looked up. "We cannot trust as unreliable of a system as owls, and technology doesn't work in Hogwarts. Therefore, I will be going back and forth myself. I can do my added share of paperwork on the train."
It sounded good to him. "Perfect. Now, to establish a cover story-"
"I have one!" Olivia jumped. "How about we say you'll become really sick?"
Ollie shook his head. "Don't be foolish. They'll check on him if we say that."
Olivia frowned. She clearly didn't like having her ideas put down like that, but it was true. Being sick wasn't that good of a cover. But her eyes lit up once again. "Okay, but then how about this? We say that he's off on a time-travel adventure. He's done those once or twice before."
The three of them considered it. "Its actually not a bad idea. Most nations don't want to fuck-"
"Language!" The blue-eyed twins chorused. England begrudgingly dropped a coin in each of their jars before continuing. "-with magic, and those who do practice it are generally not nosy. I trust Norway and Romania with not snooping."
"But, it wouldn't be a bad idea to make sure that even they are fooled." Alice suggested. "I say we open a small portal to the far past, step in temporarily, and jump back immediately. That leaves the proper magical residue to check out with the story."
Oliver hopped to his feet, leaving Alice the only one left sitting "I say we do it then! But what would Artie be looking for?"
A silence befell the group as they thought.
"A teapot." Olivia said simply.
The three of them gave her a weird look, forcing her to elaborate.
"You know how obsessive Artie is about his tea. He spent 3 weeks searching for a certain china plate. We could say that he wanted to get a past teapot of his that was destroyed or something."
"It's perfect." England agreed. "Come, let me make us dinner. We can eat, then do the spell."
"No, I'm going to handle cooking tonight." Ollie intervened. "You've had a busy day. Vee, dear, mind joining me?"
"Of course not!" She followed him out to the kitchen. Arthur gave up and sat down beside Alice with a heavy sigh.
"They're sometimes more infuriating than Patricia."
She side-eyed him, but didn't decide to comment on his opinion. Instead, she lowered her voice. "Oliver and I can easily handle your workload. You're the figurehead England, and so you easily do more work in a day than we do in a week. We can handle having a year of extra work."
"You forgot to say Olivia."
She smiled a bit. "No, I didn't. Listen, you're going to be teaching. But even still, Harry Potter may not trust you completely. Researching him, his family seems to be at least psychologically abusive. Trust issues breed from abuse, especially towards adults. So, I've decided to introduce a few fail-safes to you."
"Please, do elaborate."
Flipping through the pages of her book, she found a neatly folded piece of paper. On it were four names written in her beautiful cursive.
"I'm saying we plant other nations as his friends. Ones we can trust and that are easily likable, plus ones that account for every Hogwarts house, since its unknown which one Harry will end up in. The first is, as you may have guessed, Olivia. She's a Hufflepuff by nature, fiercely loyal, sweet, and charming."
England found himself to be shaking his head. "No. She has no magic. She would never even be accepted."
"I thought you would say that, which is again, why I researched." She pushed up her glasses. "With the help of certain magical objects, one can transfer their magic inside of it and allow those without magic to use theirs. Since I will not be needing much magic other than to travel between Hogwarts and King's Cross, Olivia will be using mine. It may even be that once she starts using magic, that her body learns to create its own."
For how energetic she was, Olivia was also incredibly amiable. And with no need for killing children, she'd be no threat. "Okay. Who're the other three?"
"Amelia Jones, for Ravenclaw."
Arthur gaped. "You're suggesting America should be in Ravenclaw?"
"Yes. You've seen her during pressure-filled moments. She's incredibly smart when it comes to numbers, word-play, and decoding. Why I chose her instead of someone like Japan is because she too is incredibly friendly."
He huffed. "Alright. Who's the Slytherin?"
"I'm unsure. I was going to also suggest that Amelia could take the spot of Slytherin, since America is incredibly ambitious."
"Manifest Destiny, I remember." England grumbled. "That makes more sense as well."
"Alright. Then I have another we could put in Ravenclaw. Matthew Williams. For the figurehead of Canada, he is barely noticed as a nation. James Williams steals the spotlight from him in most areas, except during world meetings in which Matthew is forced to go due to his status as a figurehead."
"Matthew seems perfect for Ravenclaw. No argument there."
She smiled softly. "I'm glad. Finally, our Gryfindor. Jett Papalya." Her eyes immediately focused on him to watch his reaction.
He didn't see the former colony as much as he used to, but that was mostly because of conflicting time-zones, weather, ideals, and in general, busyness. But, with the traits he had as a child, being even more bullheaded and stupid than Alfred, there was no doubt he was a model Gryfindor.
"All of them sound perfect to me, except for the fact only Olivia and Matthew have ways of reasonably hiding for a year. Jett and Amelia are so loud and rambunctious that the world would know the second they disappeared."
Alice's smile dropped into a frown. "We could not reasonably say you would ask Jett to help you look for a priceless teapot."
"Yes."
She sighed. "I don't have anything that comes to mind for now. You?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. But don't worry about it. We have a few days."
She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his shoulder, something she always did when she was bored, tired, or annoyed. England stood still, simply rubbing her back. "Don't stress yourself out about it. Worst case, we say its a time-travel scavenger hunt."
She laughed at that.
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Dinner was herb-roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, peas, and boiled carrots, all assembled and cooked in a dutch oven. Olivia and Ollie looked extremely proud of themselves, and when England took a bite after saying grace, he was pleasantly surprised from the lack of sugar.
The whole affair was relatively quiet, with a few words exchanged here or there but nothing important. Eating felt less like a communal event and more like a necessity at the moment, everyone much too eager about what to do after to focus on the present. Alice volunteered to clean up, leaving England with the task of explaining her plan to Olivia.
"Olivia, Alice and I talked while you were helping with dinner."
She tilted her head, like a confused puppy. "And?"
"Would you like to attend Hogwarts disguised as a student?"
There was no possible way to possible describe the way her face looked in words, but, if you close your eyes and imagine, it was a face of pure, utter, elation mixed with shock and confusion. She stood, sat down, stood again, and frustratedly sat back down.
"I-I-Yes! But..." She was at an utter loss for words. "How?"
Ollie's eyes kept switching between his twin and his brother, unsure of who to focus on.
"There are magical objects that allow a Wizard or Witch to transfer their magic inside of it. If a Muggle were to use it, they would have access to the magic, and possibly could develop a way of creating their own magic. Alice volunteered to let you use her magic."
Alice was speechless, but her eyes said it all. They filled with tears, and without a second thought, she got up and hugged her sister, voice thick with emotion.
"Thank you, Ally. Thank you, so, so much." She buried her face into Alice's shoulder laughing and crying simultaneously."
Alice patted her on the back. "It's my pleasure, Oliv-I mean, Vee."
Oliver was beaming. "Just for that, you get your swear money back from today." He fished the two coins out from the jar and handed it to England, who tucked them safely in his pocket.
"Thank you. While I don't particularly care for magic, it's obvious that Vee does."
Arthur let a gentle smile emerge on his face. "I guess we'll need a tunc quaestum spell tonight as well. I don't think I've seen her look 12 since the 100 year's war."
"I'm so excited!" Olivia finally removed herself from Alice. "I get to do something important."
"Yes, you do. And you've already got the young girl act nailed down. All we need now is the time spell, to de-age you, and make a fake profile in case of background checks. For now, you'll be my niece. Ollie is your father-"
"That just feels wrong of you to say." Olivia chuckled.
Ollie was smiling with her. "Quite."
England rolled his eyes. "Your mother walked out of Oliver for being an idiot before you were old enough to remember, and Ollie refuses to talk about her sometimes pretending to forget she even exists. You can make up everything else, just make sure its sound and you memorize it so you don't slip up."
Alice walked in from the kitchen, done with the dishes. "It sounds good enough. Are you ready to start with the spells?" She asked England.
"Ready as ever. Let's do this quickly. I have a lot more to get to in preparation."
The four of the walked down to the basement, and meticulously, used chalk to draw the lines needed to form a portal. Alice and England grabbed each other's hands and began to chant the spell they memorized long ago, Olivia and Ollie standing far away enough to view without any chance of getting hurt. As energy within themselves was converted into magical energy, the air began to buzz. The floor glowed with a pale blue light emitting where the chalk once was, and slowly, the blue spread from the edge of the circle inwards, enveloping the ground beneath their feet.
As soon as the circle was completely filled in by the blue light, there was a pop, and the two of them and the circle were gone. And just like after every time spell, the air smelled with honey candies.
"Wonder where they went." Ollie started picking supplies while staying clear of the place the summon circle was once located.
Olivia had a dreamy look on her face. "I'll be able to do that soon!"
"Calm down, poppet, they have centuries more experience than you. I don't doubt you will be able to master magic, just not their level magic."
"But I can probably still learn it. You heard Artie! He said that I may even develop my own magic stores."
"...He did indeed."
The air began to grow warm and Ollie immediately pressed himself against the wall, Olivie mimicking his movements. The blue circle formed outwards, created the full circle, and popped.
England and Alice were laughing, covered in mud.
"How'd it go?"
"Hopped back to when we had custody over New Zealand. Zack was playing outside and the little bugger saw us, threw mud pies, and ran off calling for Australia." England laughed. "I forgot how bratty they were when they were colonies."
"Yes, especially Zack. I'm glad he mellowed out." Alice wiped her glasses. "While we wash off, how about you two begin making Vee's backstory and profile? It's been years since we've performed a tunc quaestum spell, so we'll need a bit to re-read how exactly to perform it."
Olivia grabbed Ollie's arm before he could react. "On it!" She dragged him behind her, practically running upstairs. Alice and England packed up their magic supplies before heading up, bee-lining for the water-closets to get rid of the mud. Time passed as they changed into different clothes and looked through England's many books on magic, trying to figure out how to properly de-age a nation. They'd done it before, but not in at least a few centuries.
Meanwhile, downstairs, Ollie and Olivia were having a blast filling out her fake identity, making father-daughter slang, and fake memories.
And suddenly, out of nowhere, Alice said, "I've got it!"
"You've got what?"
"How we can get the other nations to disappear for a year without bring suspicion."
England blinked. "How?"
"It was so simple." Alice shook her head, incredulous. "We remove the world's memories of them."
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I should've spent the time making this on any of my on-going fics, but my brain decided, "One more can't hurt" and this was born. Now, to first explain things that may have been confusing:
- Arthur=England. Since he is the figurehead of England's reps, he mentally would refer to himself as that. Just like how you refer to yourself as "Me" when everyone else knows you by your name.
- When a character says a country and then use They/Them, its not because the country is non-binary, but because they are referring to all of the countries representatives. If they've talking about a specific country, the use their human alias
- The Englands have nicknames for each other, although Alice and Arthur hardly ever use them. Arthur/England is Artie, Alice is Ally, Oliver is Ollie, and Olivia is Vee.
-Why does Dumbledore not say "Voldemort" in his letter outright? Imagine you're the headmaster of a school as prestigious as Hogwarts and you're writing a letter to an immortal being you've never met. Even for Dumbledore, outright saying "Voldemort" is risky.
-If you have any other points you think I should explain, please leave a comment/review! This story will most likely not be updating sooner than 3 weeks from now unless you guys tell me that you want an update quicker. So please, send me even the simplest of reviews. I read every single one of them.
-And if you liked it, maybe share. Give a kudos. I'll never know what you all want unless you tell me.
Have a lovely day, and here's to hoping the fic continues on!
Msperfectsheep
P.S. Beta readers needed! Contact me on discord for more info. My username is Fluff#0929.
Character Reference:
Mains:
Amelia Elizabeth Jones: Nyo!America
Arthur Kirkland: England
Jacob Alexander "Jett" Papalya: Australia
Matthew Jean Williams: Canada
Olivia "Vee" Kirkland: 2p!Nyo!England
Other(Varies per chapter):
Liza: The Sun(Hey, Hima personified Winter and a boat, the Sun is completely valid)
Dustin Morgan: Young receptionist at England's current workplace
Oliver "Ollie" Kirkland: 2p!England
Alice "Ally" Kirkland: Nyo!England
Rosemary Roberts: Ollie's friend from The Bakery
Francois Bonnefoy: 2p!France
Coco: Flying Chocolate Bunny
Patricia O'Connell: Ireland
James Williams: 2p!Canada
Zack Johnson: New Zealand