I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR HARRY POTTER!

Arthur stood in front of the rattling cupboard, if he had known that this lesson would be covering boggarts he would of played the sick card and skipped. It was not that he was afraid of facing his fear, but rather he was afraid of the other students finding out whom he is. Well mostly, he was also afraid that the other nations in his class would

Taking a breath Arthur readied his wand as the elderly DADA teacher released the boggart, a black mist flowed from the cupboard towards the blond haired Englishmen. The dark mist started to take shape, though the details were not yet clear, it was clear enough that it was a man. The apparition stood at six foot tall, had broad shoulders and a muscled physic, and as features became visible, England turned pale.

"You" the class turned to look at a very angry yet fearful Romano or as Arthur knew him, southern Italy. England swallowed, in front of him stood ancient Rome, or rather the Roman Empire. The long dead empire stood tall and proud, dressed in his shining armour with his sword in hand. But his expression was terrifying. A smile unlike any the students had seen before was spread upon the handsome face, but the empires eyes were filled with a raw maddening rage and this insane gaze was focused solely on England.

"My my, little one, you grew just as you said you would" Rome's voice held the same insanity as his eyes, but there was an undertone there, and judging by the expression on England's face he knew what that undertone meant. The boggart stepped closer to Arthur, leaning in to the young man's ear.

"You grew up to be more beautiful then I would of dreamed, my little Britannia" England froze, his heart beating wildly, eyes dilated as he starting breathing erratically. The DADA frowned he did not know what the boggart man had said to Arthur but the boy was now showing signs of mental trauma. Arthur quickly stepped back trying to calm his breathing, he hated this man. Oh how he hated this man, this man had stolen his mothers life and cast his own to darkness. But he was terrified, how do you fight a man such as Rome. The students pressed themselves away from Arthur, leaving the Brit standing alone.

"I am not afraid of you" though his voice was weak, his words held a faint truth.

"I grew, farther, stronger and larger than you could of dreamed, the Mediterranean may have been under your control but I had an empire so large that the sun never set on it" England hissed in old English at the boggart Rome. England raised his wand and just as the incantation was about to leave his lips, the boggart transformed into a young England. The England, the boggart portrayed was young, perhaps five or four years old. His hair as untamed as always, but he looked terrible. The boy was covered in blood and bruises, his simple white robed torn and his eyes empty. The students started whispering their gazes locked on the boggart, why did Arthur fear his child self. The little boy stared at Arthur, the small form shaking. At last the boggart started to move only for wounds to suddenly violently appear on his body, blood spraying across the floor, as the child was slashed by invisible weapons. Some of the students screamed, but Arthur stood still unable to move. The boy then aged rapidly and suddenly there were bodies surrounding him and a insane smile was plastered across the Englishmen's face, as blood dripped from his hands and ran down his face. More students screamed, and the boggart morphed again but now it was Arthur as he was. But tied to a stake as flames licked at his body, only Arthur and the other nations knew of this fear. England was burning.

Arthur moved suddenly, wand slicing through the air and releasing a bright light. The boggart exploded and Arthur stalked from the room ignoring professor and student alike. The nations whom shared his class stayed put, an understanding gained only through suffering that England would wish to be alone for a while. Except one, Romano ran after Arthur.

The Italian followed the sound of sobbing, till after a few moments he found Arthur huddled behind a statue. The Englishman was in pieces, his body shaking with suppressed emotions. Romano crouched down, his hand laying itself upon Arthur's cheek. Startled tear filled emeralds meet his sorrowful honey brown orbs, an understanding passing between them.

"Come Arthur, it was too long ago for you to keep shedding tears over it" a sob followed his words and Romano found himself wrapping his arms around the Brit.

"I..I cant seem to forget...(sob) it haunts me so" the Englishman dissolved into a fresh bout of sobs, Romano could practically taste the agony the other was in.

It was only the distant ringing of the lunch bell that moved the pair, Romano helping Arthur stand and escorting the boy to the seventh floor corridor. He left Arthur by the opposite wall and paced seven lengths of the corridor, after a moment a door appeared and Romano gently guided Arthur into the awaiting room.

The room had a cosy feel, the walls lined with books and on the east wall a huge fireplace lay already alight. A thick fluffy rug lay in front of the fire and just before the rug two big and overstuffed armchairs sat, a small table lay between the chairs and was laden with tea and an assortment of cakes.

Romano sat in one of the chairs and gently pulled Arthur to sit in his lap. It was not Romano's nature to be this kind or gentle to another man, but for this moment he wanted to coddle Arthur. The Brit sat limply in his lap, whimpers escaping him and tugging at Romano's heart. Softly Romano reassured the blond, telling him that the only people whom knew about what had happened a millennium's ago was them.

Slowly, slowly England calmed. Sobs became steady breathing and tears stopped. However he didn't move from his position. Romano didn't know how long they had been in the room and in all honesty he didn't care, all he cared about was that Arthur got better.

It took along time for the blond to completely calm but eventually he did, breathing calmly onto Romano's chest. Checking his watch Romano realised they had missed dinner and that it was fast approaching curfew. Looking down at the silent Englishmen, Romano wished that the room had a bed. A shift in the air was all Romano needed to know that his request had been granted. Awkwardly standing with Arthur firmly in his hold, Romano carried the blond to the luxurious queen sized bed.

As he set the silent Englishman down, his eyes meet brilliant emeralds. Arthur sat still till Romano joined him, then timidly lent over and gently lay his lips over the Italians. Mahogany eyes softened further and gently Romano cradled Arthur's cheek in his hand, the blood leaning into the touch.

"You never told any one did you?" Arthur inhaled sharply and looked away.

"How could I? My brothers wouldn't of understood, my mother was dead and at that point France and Spain couldn't of helped"

"But to hold it to yourself all this time?"

"Please stop" Arthur sounded so small, that Romano indulged his request.

For a few moments they simply watched each other, before Romano lifted the covers and pulled Arthur to his chest. They would sort everything out tomorrow, Romano gulped, he would have to deal with Arthur's brothers. Crap.