The first of these beings yond wast discov'r'd wast a sir who called himself Rome. Acc'rding to ancient texts, the being wast tall, with tann'd skin the col'r of bronze, dark, curl'd locks of thick hair, and deep brown eyes yond radiat'd pow'r. That gent w're his armeth'r daily, and at each moment he carried his sw'rd on his p'rson. Aye, this being wast one to praise, to gl'rify, to loveth. The fruit of the Roman Empire's lab'r, a being yond hath shown their strength in who is't that gent wast.

But, as didst state earli'r, these beings lasteth only as longeth as those gents has't something to representeth. As Rome sack'd from all areas, and as the empire crumbl'd, the most wondrous and resp'ctable, sir who called himself Rome didst vanish. All yond didst remain wast the East'rn Roman Empire, to which Rome bar'ly couldst calleth that gent owneth people. T'wast then yond that gent madeth the decision yond seal'd his fate, and quite possibly, the fate of the Byzantines.

That gent didst maketh two sons to representeth the 'riginal homeland, and with the lasteth years that gent hadst as a f'rm'r empire, that gent didst teachest the young beings ev'rything that gent couldst about his culture. And finally, quietly in the night, the Roman Empire p'rished, leaving his two sons defenseless and didst surround by a w'rld of enemies.

Wast humankind responsible f'r this disast'r, 'r wast it Rome who wast responsible f'r the falleth?

-Excerpt from Mysterious and Inexplicable Madnesses, written by Unknown. Published, 1531

-0-

"We remove the world's memories of them."

England stared at his sister for a long while, scrutinizing everything she was wearing, from the plain blue dress tied at the waist with a belt to the silver earrings hanging from her lobes.

"Are you mad, or did I just hear you incorrectly?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips turned downwards. "I said, we should remove the nation's memories of Amelia, Jett, and Matthew."

It just did not make sense for those words to be coming out of Alice's mouth. Alfred, sure. That was an Alfred-level comment. But not Alice. Smart, practical, rational Alice.

"You don't think it's a good idea, do you?" Her confused expression turned to one more annoyed. "Then why don't you suggest something?"

"Because I don't have any good ideas! If I... Alright. It's okay. We can work with this, but maybe... just alter a few things?"

Alice crossed her arms defensively. "Like what?"

England ushered her over to his desk, where he sat down and brought out a fresh sheet of paper and a pen.

"You and I each have, let's say, 500 magic points each. Erasing one person from the memory of another is around, what? 1 magic point? Now, let's say you're removing one person from the memories of 10 people. It's ten points. So, counting just figureheads alone, that's around 200 or so. Then, accounting for the usual 3 other representatives that most countries have, that is, give or take around 800 magic points for one country. Just to remove someone like Jett from the world's memory would cost us nearly all of our magic combined! But then there's still Amelia, who is maybe even more well known than Jett. Together, they exceed the amount of magic we have. It's insane to even think about it."

"Then what do you suppose we do about it?"

England hated himself for what his mind suggested to him as a reply, and before he knew it, the words were coming out of his mouth. "Have you watched the Disney movie 'Frozen'?"

"Yes...?"

"Remember at the beginning, when the trolls were looking through Anna's memories? He changed the memories but didn't erase them, which is incredibly more efficient. Instead of erasing a figurehead from memory, you make another one of the reps seem like a figurehead. So, in Jett's case, I'd make Jane the figurehead. It would still be utterly exhausting, but we would at least be able to pull it off."

It was Alice's turn to be silent and when she finally spoke, he saw her eyes glowing with renewed vigor. "Let's do it."

She pulled up a chair, and together on the paper, they determined how they would change the memories. Generally, in terms of importance, the second most significant representative after the figurehead of the country was their counterpart of the same sex. This was then followed by the sibling, male or female, who shared the eye color of the figurehead. The least important was the one who neither shared gender nor physical similarities with the figurehead.

In Jett's case, they were going to make Jane, his twin who shared many of his physical similarities, the one who replaced him in everyone's memories. She still had the same rambunctious nature and personality, so if Jane said, "Fancy a 10 kilometer swim?" no one would question it.

For Amelia, while she was not as important as a figurehead, she was still very well known. So, in her case, they would have to talk to Ashlyn about possibly acting like Amelia. Either that, or they would have to temporarily convince Ashlyn that she had Amelia's personality, making it so that although Amelia still maintained her position, she would be just as well known as Ashlyn, and vice versa. The loud, "HEY GUYS, WHO WANTS TO GET SMASHED?" would now be coming from Ashlyn's mouth, at least in everyone's memories.

Lastly, they had nothing they needed to do with Matthew. James was much more well known, making him a rarity among nations, as the most known and yet not the figurehead. Unfortunate for Matthew, but it would waste no magic and they were fine with that.

As they worked, it seemed their minds were the same. One suggested an idea, and the other agreed. Alice did the writing, England did the reading. Magic spells were like recipes. You can mess them up, but if you follow the instructions, you're allowed to tweak things for personal preference. Like changing 200 people's memories, instead of just one.

Not tonight, of course. They had to get the countries' consent, and they were already pretty drained from the time spell. They finished their calculations rather quickly, and without a second thought, as if their minds were still linked, both England and Alice got out of their chairs and walked downstairs. At the dining table, Ollie and Olivia were laughing so hard their faces were pink.

"I take it that your backstory is going well, Olivia?" England quipped, sitting in his usual seat at the head of the table. Alice joined him on his left, watching politely.

His sister bobbed her head. "I'm having a ball. Ollie is barking mad as a father, but it sure does allow for fun things to be made up! Like this:"

She held up the paper and cleared her throat. "When I was little, I used to chew on the television remotes. When my dad took them away, I found that my love of the taste came not from the remotes, but the batteries inside. To this day, we have almost nothing that's within reaching distance if it's powered with batteries, and the things that are have back panels that are duct-taped shut."

Alice golf-clapped. "It sounds realistic. Do you have more of that?"

"Oh yeah, tons of it. We've gone through and made plenty of obscure little details that go on throughout my life. I mean, at age four, we only have two memories, but we made more as I grew up. We put together a morning schedule that "I've always followed", some favorite bands and movies, -which I'll be watching and listening to-, and a fashion style. My backstory is pretty simple because, let's face it, you don't usually just march up to someone and ask for their whole life story. And even if you did, they usually can only come up with a few unimportant and uninteresting details."

"Excellent job." England nodded along. "You can start memorizing it tomorrow while we travel to meet with Jett, Amelia, and Matthew. Since I'm supposed to be in the past, I will be going undercover, which means flying commercial. I'll call from a payphone once I reach the airport and ask for the status of negotiation. Whether the negotiation succeeds or fails determines my next move."

The other three shared a look. "Does that mean...?" Ollie prompted, waiting for England to answer.

"Yes, I'll be wearing a disguise, and no, it won't be as bad as the Italian one back during the war." His face flushed red as he remembered his horrible attempt to blend in back then. His siblings all sighed in relief.

"Good. We'll bring in a human make-up artist to cover your brows, since they're your biggest identifier. And maybe clean up your hair in general. You are going to be a professor, after all." Ollie stood up and walked around England while talking, like an appraiser talking about an item.

"My eyebrows are perfectly fine!"

All of them laughed. "And you suppose our teeth are too?" Alice smirked.

"Just shut up. Ollie, call your stylist if you'd like. I'm not going to sleep tonight anyway." He huffed. "I'll put on some tea for anyone else who'll stay up with me. Otherwise, you all know where your rooms are."

With that, Ollie went off to call his stylist, Olivia retired to her room to "study my new identity", and Alice stayed up with England to keep him company, and work through a few more papers she hadn't gotten done that day. The house fell silent, the only constant sound is the rocking of England's chair as he studied the magical formula and the ticking of England's many antique clocks.

The night hours slipped by as easily as water ran down a glass pane, and the only reason England kept track of the time was the constant chimes he got each hour from the clocks. Alice eventually had succumbed to sleep sometime between two and three, leaving England to simmer in the silence alone.

He hoped that this would be worth it.

-0-

The next morning was a blur of hair, false teeth, and Ollie's signature bubblegum pink and baby blue. As soon as the sun was up, Ollie's stylist, a man named Joel, and his assistant, Samantha, were at the door knocking. When England went to answer, he was practically assaulted by the duo, dragged into a chair and forced to sit still. England didn't even have a chance to speak as his teeth were shoved into some sort of disgusting-tasting substance needed to make his false teeth.

Parts of the makeover were worse than physical torture, such as the plucking of his eyebrows. He scowled or yelped at every single hair being pulled out, and seeing Ollie's sadistic smile only made him want to strangle his brother more.

"Say 'Cheese'!" He chirped, holding up a camera. England scowled deeper in return, just to annoy him as revenge. He probably was going to regret it when he ate the cupcakes later, but at the moment it was worth it just to temporarily see that creepy smile falter.

Joel tutted his tongue and stepped back to inspect England. "There is something wrong with this. He is supposed to look cool. Suave. Instead he looks like a middle-aged accountant. Samantha, what do you recommend?"

England rolled his eyes and tried not to focus on the numbers, but they were the only interesting thing in the room.

Joel Ryan Kensington
35
03061956-18042032

Samantha May Bremmings
23
24091968-17081994

He felt a pang of pity towards Samantha. So young...

England blinked out of his stupor, realizing the stylists had stopped talking. "Pardon me, what did you say?"

Samantha crossed her tanned arms across her chest. "How do you feel about dyeing your hair?"

"Absolutely not."

She rolled her eyes, and instantly the pity was gone. "Fine. I think that a little bit more off the sides will make him look presentable, Joel."

"I agree. Plus, perhaps a little bit less brow as well."

Ollie snickered. "That sounds amazing. Go for it!"

England would make sure that Ollie would have hell to pay after this.

-0-

When he was handed the mirror, he nearly dropped it. His hair was soft and brushed, sitting on his head fashionably in a way a 20-year-old would style it. His notoriously-thick eyebrows were the thinnest he'd ever seen, but not to the point where they looked bad. Just to him, seeing such a stark difference...

It was uncanny.

And then there were his teeth. With the help of some custom-made dentures of sorts that slipped right over his teeth, they looked pretty. He ran his fingers across his face, possibly subconsciously, to make sure that it was his.

England suddenly had the urge to stand up and shout, "TAKE THAT, FRANCIS!", but fought it. He was a gentleman, and that was an ungentlemanly thing to do. He would just talk behind his back instead.

"Well? What do you think, Artie?" Ollie blinked innocently.

"I like it." He said evenly, trying not to give off too much of his true feelings. That would only encourage Ollie to assault him with more surprise makeovers.

"Then it's perfect! Thank you again, Joel, for being a miracle worker."

Joel smiled. "It is my pleasure to help people like Arthur. Sometimes, you just have to help those fashionably-challenged."

England scoffed internally and released himself from the cage of protective sheets and styling tools, more than ready to begin the day by packing. Before Joel and Samantha's visit, he'd scheduled a flight to America, where Alice would be meeting up with Amelia in LA. If Amelia accepted the offer, he would meet with them briefly before travelling with Amelia to Ottawa where, yet again, Alice would meet up with a nation, this time it being Matthew Williams, the figurehead of Canada. But, if it failed, England would simply just fly to Ottawa without ever seeing Amelia. The process would repeat until after Alice had spoken to Jett Papalya, the figurehead of Australia, and then after they would see how many successes and losses they had.

He left Ollie to figure out payment and walked upstairs to his bedroom, pulling out his suitcase and loading it with an extra suit, pyjamas, boxers, a comfy pair of casual sweatpants, an old t-shirt that he was pretty sure was from his punk phase, and all of his hygiene products. Into his briefcase went the Hogwarts letter, a few books, a pen, and some of the documents he would've had time to go through if not for yesterday's events.

A light amount to travel with, plus a bundle of each countries' currency tucked safely inside a pair of socks in his checked-bag which would make the trip easier. All he needed to do now was grab his newest passport, call a cab, and get on the plane as soon as possible. Alice had left just before his make-over and was already flying over the Atlantic, giving her plenty of time to adjust to the timezone and talk to Amelia before England landed.

There was a knock at his door. "Hey Artie, mind if I come in?"

"No, not at all."

Olivia peeped her head in. "Are you doing alright? Your flight leaves pretty soon, and since you're going incognito, you need to worry about waiting in line to get through security." For someone who considered shaking the vending machine to be "a perfectly acceptable way of obtaining pop", she was oddly worried about going through certain procedures legally.

"I'm fine. I'm almost ready anyway." He snapped his suitcase shut to emphasize his point. "Although, would you mind making me a sandwich to take on the go? I haven't eaten since yesterday."

She sighed, and instead of running off to the kitchen like she usually would, she walked inside his room and sat on the side of his bed. "I'm nervous."

"About what?" He looked in the mirror, putting on a new tie.

"I- What if I slip up and reveal who I really am, or how old we are? Or what if Coco calls us England in front of the students? I know Mintie wouldn't, but Coco forgets a lot of stuff. Or, what if I get hurt and heal faster than anyone should be able to? I don't want to mess this up."

He chuckled a bit. "Olivia, who was it that wanted to learn magic more than anyone?"

"Me?"

"And who spent hours last night coming up with a fake identity that she's surely memorized by now?"

"Me."

"And tell me, who was there to keep me from falling apart in front of the colonies when America became independent?"

"Ally and I."

"Alice may have been the rational one in the situation, but you were the one I spent hours talking to and crying on the shoulder on. Olivia, you are one of the strongest nations I know. You have character. And when you set your mind to it, you can and will get anything you want. Keep my words in mind anytime you feel doubt, and you'll be fine."

Her blue eyes twinkled the way America's used to when England gave him a scone with jam. "You always know exactly what to say. You'll be a fantastic teacher."

"I do hope so. I've got a few magical history books to read on the plane that'll hopefully refresh my mind quite a bit."

Olivia got off the bed and hugged him too tight for comfort. "I'm sure your lessons will be stunning. Now, I'll go make that sandwich." She released him and bounded down the stairs, pigtails bobbing. He watched her leave before checking his watch. 10 minutes until he had to leave.

He checked all his luggage to make sure he forgot nothing, brushed his hair (it felt so silky), and shaved. His tie was tightened, shoes were laced, and buttons buttoned up. By that point he was simply trying to think of things to do just to pass the ten minutes he had left, so he wouldn't have to say goodbye to Ollie and Olivia too early and then spend a few minutes in awkward silence before properly departing.

He knew he was forgetting something, but couldn't remember what. It couldn't be his books, nor his clothes. He had his passport, and his money, and his hygiene products.

So what was missing?

He nearly unpacked everything just to recount when the answer hit him in the head like New Zealand's mud pie.

His wand. He'd need it to prove to Amelia (at least) that magic was real. While Allan and Ashlyn actively believed in both aliens and magic, Alfred and Amelia couldn't be convinced, not by Uni. He threw open his drawers, searching for the relic he hadn't used in so long.

Wands were, more or less, for show. A talented witch or wizard would have no trouble doing wandless magic, since a wand is only something one should use to channel their already existing magic. But, to Amelia, using a wand would be proof magic exists in the first place, and as a teacher at a school that was well-known for believing wandless magic was a high-level craft, he would need to use it in front of staff and students.

He could feel time suddenly ticking down while his searching grew more frantic, and as Amelia called, "Artie, the cab is here!", his heart nearly stopped. He had no more time to look, but he needed his wand. A replacement would never work as well as his original either.

Where did he last put it? Think. He had to think. The last time he must've used it was when he still had colonies and was actively raising them, so early 1800's? He l had the time to practice magic, so it couldn't be much later than that. Back then, he was usually storing things in-

"Artie, did you hear me? You're going to be late!"

The basement. He would've stored it out of the colonies' reach in his magic stores. He grabbed his suitcase, briefcase, and passport and rushed down the stairs to the basement, tearing through his old belongings searching for the blasted thing. In less than a minute, he had it, wrapped in old cloth. He left the mess alone and rushed back up the stairs, to where Ollie and Olivia were waiting at the front door patiently.

"You're ready?" Olivia asked.

He nodded. "I'm ready."

She handed him his sandwich. "Don't worry, I didn't let Ollie touch it. Have a lovely flight." She hugged him.

"I heard that." Ollie grinned. "I'll be looking forward to our tasting session." He hugged England as well.

"Thanks, you two. Goodbye!" He strode out the front door and to the cab, excited for what the next few days would entail.

-0-

He remembered why he never flew economy.

His back hurt more than when Australia used to jump on him for "surprise hugs", his legs were stiffer than boards, and the air was more stale than the bag of crackers he had forgotten about and left in his desk for 10 years.

To top it all off, there was a kid behind him kicking his seat. No more in his life had he wanted to strangle an innocent child, and he knew that if Ollie were in his position instead, the kid would already be dead. But he was a gentleman. He would tough it out, and eventually, the kid would fall asleep.

He leaned down and brought out his book on magical history and thumbed through it. Ancient Mages, The Magic of the Classical Era, Magic of the Eastern Roman Empire, Ancient Asian Magical Practices, Ancient Magician Tribes of Sub-Saharan Africa, Medieval Magic...

The Founding of Hogwarts, the first school to teach a standardized practice of magic. Hogwarts was formed when he was no more than a babe, only 53 years old. He didn't remember much about that time, and was too young to have properly met the founders before they passed. He flipped through the pages, soaking up what he had recorded over the years in the margins of the pages and the passages written by several magical historians.

Things were simpler back then, but unlike modern day the wizards of the 10th century were ahead of the muggles technology wise. They kept knowledge of Roman inventions such as plumbing, and had a systematic way of writing and reading, which was necessary for spells. Sadly, just as what had happened with the muggle world, they regressed and lost the majority of the old practices, deemed them to be "Dark Arts" and "Shadow Magic" due to the lack of understanding on how to control it.

Often times, subjects that were considered cursed or dangerous were as simple or "safe" as transfiguration, but without proper instructions on how to perform a spell, the wizards stupid enough not to search for the missing steps often suffered from magical recoils. Boils, disfigured bodies, loss of magical ability, you name it. So the arts became associated, naturally, with the uncouth, dangerous, and evil parts of magic society, as anything with the name "Dark" or "Shadow" would eventually. A shame, but it was to be expected.

He flipped through a few more pages, skimming for anything interesting and making more notes in whatever space was left in the margins, planning out his first lesson. He supposed he would have to start with the basics and go on from there. The students, especially ones who had grown up in an entirely muggle or wizarding family, would have trouble in the beginning, but he knew with time they would pick it up. History was a collection of stories, and stories can always be made captivating if told right.

And maybe, with the help of tape recorders and video cameras, he could get some other nations to give their own insight. Not the Frogs, no, Francis would probably make some sort of innuendo that would get England fired on the spot.

China, for sure. He was old enough to recall plenty of history England couldn't. He supposed maybe Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, but when referring to the past, he suspected they wouldn't be the kindest. India would be able to recount the several names and forms he'd been through, and maybe the combined efforts of Italy, Greece, Turkey, and Egypt could result in a mix of whatever stories they heard from their parents/past representatives. However, that would have to wait for a while, especially since he wasn't even sure he'd gotten the job.

...

Why was he doing all this time shenanigan nonsense before he got the job? Why hadn't Alice pointed out the flaws in his plan? He sighed loudly, gaining a few looks from the passenger beside him.

This was not well thought out at all.

-0-

Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, California.

"Yo Brady, what's the deal? Toss the ball already!"

Amelia Jones was up to bat, and she was playing to win. In the hot summer sun, with not a cloud in sight, she was ready to swing a few homers before the game ended.

The scrappy teen named Brady who she'd grown quite fond of in her few months of knowing him nodded and wound up to pitch, letting her get her bat ready.

His arm moved forward, his wrist snapped, and his fingers extended as the ball flung out of his hand. It was an overhand attempt at a fastball, flying straight at her with no remarkable speed. Amelia swung her bat easily with years of precision under her belt, and grinned as it made that satisfying crack and the ball flew too far to follow with her eyes.

"That's game!" She cheered, taking off her old Dodgers hat and wiping the sweat off of her brow. Brady looked just as peppy as before the game, which was one of the main reasons she liked the rascal so much. He kept coming back no matter how much she beat him. He walked up to her, a smile wide on his tanned face.

"One more game? Please?" He widened his brown eyes to try for the puppy-eyes look, which didn't make her feel like she wanted to make an "aww" sound, but succeeded in making her laugh.

She gave the rascal a gentle noogie. "Later, bud. I got a cousin to meet with."

He pouted, looking so much younger than the number above his head suggested. "Can you come back afterwards? I finished all my homework for the night, I promise! Mom won't get angry at you again."

"Maybe. My cousin's pretty boring though, because all she does is talk and talk and talk forever and ever. It's lame, but I don't want to be rude and leave her hanging, y'know?"

Brady looked at the other neighborhood kids and back at her. "...Yeah, I guess. But we won't get to play until next Friday then."

"It's like that sometimes. But if I don't work during the week, I get yelled at and can't buy food to eat or rent my apartment. And if you don't do well in school, you won't be able to feed yourself either. Life comes first, then school, okay?"

Brady rolled his eyes, letting Amelia know that her words were bouncing off of him. He was only 11, so it was a little early to think about his life as an adult, but still. She didn't want to see Brady end up like some of her other baseball pals. "Okay, Amy. 'Night."

He gave his pals a signal with the tilt of his head and dejectedly walked away to his house. Amelia made sure to keep her eyes on all the kids and made sure they all went inside their homes before she left. She certainly wasn't irresponsible enough to do that.

But then, right before she was about to turn in the opposite direction and get into her car, her heart nearly stopped.

Brady's numbers.

They went down.

At first, they were 12151979-01192034, but then, just from that conversation, they went all the way down to 12151979-04161995.

What did she do? Why did they go down so much? He was supposed to live to 55, not 16!

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Jesus fucking Christ, she biffed something up. But what was she supposed to do? Run back to his house, knock on the door of a family that doesn't like her, and tell their son to not listen to the good advice she just gave? Why did one game matter so much?

But, then again, this was a kid. She couldn't just let this kid die because of something she did!

"Miss?"

She tore her hands away from her hand, staring at the source of the voice. It was one of the kids who came to play baseball that day. She looked at his numbers.

Charles Addamson.
12
05031979-09102052

"Hey Charlie. What's up?" She asked as casually as possible, trying to quell her thumping heart.

He averted his eyes. "I- uh- are you alright?" His voice was hardly above a whisper by the time he finished his question.

Her heart felt like it dropped a good inch. She exhaled through her nose, which ever so slightly whistled. She didn't know how to reply. Usually it would be a, "Hell yeah!" or "Of course I am! I'm Amelia Elizabeth Jones!" but after basically telling herself that she reduced a kid's lifespan by nearly 40 years, she didn't have the same energy.

"I'm good, thanks."

"Oh." He fell silent. "...Do you want some of my candy bar?"

"Huh?"

He produced a smushed-looking Snickers bar from his pocket, still completely wrapped. "I won it from Lee on Friday, but I don't really like peanuts. Do you?"

She sat down right there, on the grass, crossing her legs. "Yeah. Wanna sit with me for a bit and just talk?"

He looked hesitant. He looked between her and his house multiple times before he even said another word. "I can't. My Dad wants me to be home for dinner really soon. But...can we talk tomorrow?"

She accepted the candy bar from him and tucked it in her pocket. "See you here at five?"

He nodded and ran back home. Left alone again, Amelia stayed on the grass, staring at the candy bar.

She'd save it for later. Maybe when she met up with Ally, her cousin would know what to do about Brady. Ally was always into that weird hoodoo shit.

God, she hoped Ally would know what to do.

-0-

They had decided, after a bit of a back and forth over the phone, to meet at a restaurant for dinner. Ally was probably gonna be exhausted from the timezone difference alone, and the last thing Amelia wanted to do was force her to go to a bar where there would be loud noises and bad smells.

No, today was going to be an easy, laid back day where they would talk calmly about whatever Ally deemed so important to fly over to meet her (not Alfred, which she found the strangest) and Brady's numbers. Ally had about double Amelia's life experience, and seemed smart, so it was possible she would have a solution to her dilemma. Or so Amelia hoped.

She pulled her car into a swanky Italian restaurant that was too expensive for her palate. Not anything absolutely outrageous, no, but it was still somewhat over her usual budget. Whatever, she could splurge from time to time.

Before entering the restaurant in her usual baseball outfit, she cleaned herself off in the car with a pack of baby wipes and a hand mirror before slipping on an emergency shirt, since wearing a bikini top in a restaurant was generally frowned upon. But, once she was...presentable, she left the car, locked it, and walked inside.

"Uh, hi, I have a reservation for Alice Kirkland?" She waited in line until it was her turn to wait to be seated. The moment she mentioned her cousin, she was whisked away to a private room in the back. It irked her how much she was treated specially whenever England came over. Always fancy restaurants, back rooms, expensive drinks. But today, she didn't have time to be annoyed.

"Amelia, how lovely it is to see you." Ally was sitting at a lone table in the center of the room, and somehow, despite having just gotten off of a plane a few hours ago, she had her hair and makeup done, as well as a pretty yet casual dress on. Her cousin got up to greet Amelia, and they hugged warmly. "Please, do have a seat."

Amelia sat down self-consciously in her chair and stared at her cousin to just get to the point. She knew that even Ally wasn't dumb enough to ignore how odd she was acting today. Luckily, Ally took her cue like she was supposed to.

"So, I'm sure you must be wondering why I'm here."

She wanted to say, "Duh", but held it back. "Yep."

Ally's face shifted from something warm to business-like, and her hands folded together. "I assume you have had little governmental work recently, correct?"

Ah, so she was doing the classic "I-ask-you-a-question-and-you-answer-to-emphasize-my-point" technique. "Sure, I guess. I have some stuff in the week, but I usually get it done before noon. Why?"

"I am giving you the opportunity-" Already, these words set off alarm bells in her head. "-to go on a vacation of sorts for the next year."

"What for? Where?" And the biggest question, "Why?"

"Would you mind waiting until I am finished?" Ally snapped. The way she reacted was more of a cold glare, compared to the loud and annoyed retort she would've gotten from someone like Lovino.

Amelia folded her arms across her chest. "Then get to it. Stop with all these random questions and tell it to me straight."

"I was planning to. The reason why I am asking you specifically to do this is because you, Matthew, and Jett are crucial to a plan of mine. As you know, back when you lived in our house-" "Our" was obviously referring to England. Amelia mind-vomited at the memory of stiff collars and British customs. "-Arthur and I practiced magic actively."

"And as I'm sure you know, magic is bullshit. You and the rest of Europe only had witch hunts because you were homophobic, misogynistic, and widow-phobic. What the hell. It's cruel to ruin those poor people's memory by insisting that magic actually exists. They died for your fucked-up imaginary practice, and you still, in today's day and age, insist it's real?" Her voice rose but she didn't care. Magic was a controversial topic in her family and for a good reason.

Ally stayed put and watched her rant with that emotionless stare that she used just to piss Amelia off. "Are you done?"

"No, I'm not. If you came all the way here from England to talk about magic, something that has deeply affected both of our countries' populations, you should've at least came to talk about something worth my time! You have the gall to call me over to this fancy-ass restaurant when you know that I don't have anything good to wear, out of the blue nonetheless, and you are just sitting there will your blank expression not showing any sort of remorse or care for everyone you're affecting! This is why we left your house, Ally. Because you, and Arthur, and Ollie, and Olivia don't care! You say you do, but then you go around doing selfish and horrible things like this!" Amelia stood up from her chair and glared.

"I'm sorry I wasted gas to drive over here to meet you. See you next Christmas or whatever." Amelia turned on her heel and marched out of the room without a single glance back. They'd had worse fights than this before, but Amelia was already emotionally strained from Brady's numbers. She did not need magic to add to the dumpster fire.

"Wait! Amelia, come back and listen!"

Her cousin's voice called behind her, but that only urged her to walk faster. Amelia shoved open the restaurant doors, walked over to her car, and started up the engine. She did not care where she was going, so long as it was away from Ally.

She did not even realize she was crying until a teardrop landed on her bare leg.

-0-

It turned out that her sanctuary of choice tonight was going to be a Dairy Queen. The place was practically deserted, except for one group of kids singing musical theater songs outside. She walked in and just stood in front of the counter, staring at the list of frozen treats that could possibly make her feel a little better emotionally. The tired teenager behind the counter didn't give her any trouble, instead working on what appeared to be homework. She was not even sure if she was hungry, but she needed something to focus on instead of her fucked up family and Brady and the shitty concept of magic.

She wiped away some of her remaining tears when she was ready to order, and tried for a smile. "Hi, uh-"

Carlos Alarcon
18
06131973-031892048

"-Carlos, can I get a large grasshopper pie blizzard?"

Carlos stood up and walked over to the register, obviously exhausted. "Sure. Anything else?"

"...A vanilla dilly bar."

He added it to the receipt. "Will that be all?"

"Yeah. Thanks a bunch."

He submitted her order and handed her the receipt as she paid with her credit card. "I'll have that out for you in a jiffy, ma'am." She suspected he meant for that to come out as enthusiastic, but instead it just came out as the most tired words she'd ever heard.

She related to this kid more than she related to her own species. "Sounds great."

Amelia leaned against the glass and stared absently at the menu, just waiting for the moment she could drown her worries in ice cream and leave it to a brain freeze to make her forget it all. She could not afford to despair this much over shortening a kid's death, especially with how many lives she witnessed being lost in the past. Famine, tragedies, wars, plagues, everything. But...

To know it was her words that led this kid to an early death hit differently.

"Ma'am? Your order is ready."

She snapped out of it and grabbed the ice cream, dropping a few dollars in the tip jar as she walked out to her car. Amelia sat in the driver's seat, turned on the radio, and listened to "Piece of My Heart" by Tara Kemp while she slowly ate her ice cream.

It tasted like nothing.

She eventually gave up and set the half-eaten ice cream aside, too tired and worn out to care about eating or driving or listening to kids scream lyrics from Little Shop of Horrors. She rolled up her window and leaned against it, waiting for something-anything-to happen. She didn't want to feel like this. Maybe calling Al would cheer her up?

No, he would probably be asleep by now, since he was in NYC. She groaned. Allen was probably not in the mood for chit-chat, and Ashlyn was, well, Ashlyn. She supposed she could try and remedy what she did to make Brady's numbers drop, but doing such a thing would probably force Brady to never see her again, and it still wasn't guaranteed to fix her mistake. She'd talk to him Friday afternoon and fix it, far away from Brady's mom.

The station switched to "We Are The Champions" by Queen, and while she didn't want to listen or see or hear anything remotely British, she was too lazy to switch the station. Her cell phone buzzed a few times, but she just ignored it. She knew it was Alice. Didn't she make it clear at the restaurant she wanted to be left alone?

No, apparently not. Her stupid family never understood boundaries. When she asked Francis to stop looking at her boobs, he didn't. When she asked Arthur to stop talking about why British chocolate is superior, he didn't stop. Hell, even Canada was annoying sometimes. She hated them, she hated the world, and most of all, she hated herself. Alfred was the perfect version of her, smart, confident, cool. He didn't lose his cool around England ever, instead just laughing it off and playing it for a joke. He was her brother, the figurehead, and she was his sister, the spare.

God, if only she'd said yes to that one extra game of baseball. She wouldn't have had this shitty evening filled with worry and hate and despair. She wanted nothing more than just to do it over, even if it was incredibly selfish. But the world was just full of disappointments.

She wanted magic to be real, just this once, so she could solve all her problems with the flick of her wand.

Her phone rang again, and for the hell of it, she picked up.

"Do you know how worried I've been?"

Alice. Amelia kept her mouth shut and just waited for her to continue.

"Where are you? I'll take a taxi over there."

"Amelia, answer me. I'm serious. I didn't want to hurt you at all tonight. I just wanted to make a deal that was actually going to benefit you."

"Please answer. I know you're there."

"Amelia."

"I understand that you don't want to talk. But do you really think I would've spent over 10 hours on a plane just to talk about something I know you don't like? Amelia, you're smarter than that. Where's the little girl I used to know who liked to recite funny rhymes or do her multiplication tables faster than anyone else? She's still here, deep inside you."

"Please, say something."

Amelia let out a little sob she'd been holding in, her breath unsteady. "...Something."

There was a pause, and together, the both of them laughed so loudly that it felt Ally was right beside her, even if Amelia's laugh came out more as a mix of gasping, sobbing, and laughing. She didn't even know why she was laughing. Perhaps her body just needed it, or maybe her body was too tired with feeling sad and angry.

Either way, it felt really, really good.

"Are you ready to talk? I won't drive over to you if you don't want me to. We can talk right here, over the phone."

"Please. I'm too much of an emotional wreck to see anyone right now."

"Okay. Let me move to a private area then." The phone went silent on the other end, and Amelia had to check if Alice had hung up on her. She didn't. Amelia turned off the radio and waited for her cousin to speak again, which didn't happen for a few minutes.

"I'm ready. Amelia, please don't interrupt me this time. I want to get my full statement out before you misunderstand any more of my intentions. Understood?"

"Yeah."

"It's yes, not yeah. Anyways, I am offering you a year-long vacation in which you will be learning about the magic that does actually exist, not the scapegoat we used back in the days to kill random peasants. The reason I need you specifically is because of your personality. You are smart and know how to deal with riddles and puzzles, yet you're also incredibly friendly."

"Why do I need to learn this special brand of "magic" that apparently exists?"

"Here's where I need to know if you are serious about accepting my offer. Everything else is confidential unless you agree."

"Well, since I'm so smart, your words not mine, I'm gonna need a little bit more incentive and information than, "Oh wow, come learn this imaginary skill." Offer me something more."

"You do understand I'm offering a year-long vacation."

"Yeah, and I also understand that I can easily go off the radar for a year on my own. Something else."

"What do you want?"

Amelia snorted. What didn't she want? "I dunno, money, a cool car, the ability to redo the past 4 hours, Alfred's courage, you name it."

"...I can do that."

"Which one?" She suspected it was gonna either be the money or the car.

"Redoing the past 4 hours."

Amelia snorted. "Come on, be serious."

"I am. If I let you redo the past 4 hours, will you accept my offer?"

"If I redo the past 4 hours, you wouldn't know, would you?"

"It's your responsibility to honor your side of the deal."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Fine. Prove that you can do that and you have a deal."

"Meet me at the hotel as soon as possible. I'll be waiting." The call ended on that ominous note and left Amelia with a decision. Blow her cousin off, go to sleep, and forget about tonight or go to her hotel, see her fail, and then properly negotiate until Amelia could get something realistic and worth her time.

She was exhausted, but Alice had to be even more so, and therefore more likely to get tricked into a good deal for Amelia. She turned on her engine and drove towards the hotel, unsure of what she was going to find there.

-0-

Unlike the restaurant, the hotel was always a modest place. The reason England always stayed there when they came to LA was because of how honestly the hotel was run, and the charming nature. It wasn't big, bold, or grand, but instead a homey space just to wind down and sleep well. That alone was luxury enough.

She checked in with the old matron who ran the hotel and headed up to her cousin's room, 2B. Amelia did not even spend time taking in the old lady's numbers, just noticing the 65 and that was it.

"Ally, I'm here!" She called from the hall, knocking on the door marked with a bronze plaque.

The door opened, and her cousin stood on the other side. Her usually tied-up hair was loose, her glasses were off, and her usual business dress was replaced with a nightgown. Amelia blinked. She never saw Ally dressed like this unless one of her siblings woke Alice up in the middle of the night when they were colonies. "I'm glad. Please, come in. Everything's set up."

"...Uh, sure. You're serious about the magic thing?"

"Of course." As it turned out, she absolutely was. There were chalk circles on the floor and everything. Amelia made sure to steer clear of them and sat on the bed, waiting for Alice's instructions. On the off-chance this worked, the last thing she wanted was for it to go wrong.

"Now, you said four hours ago, correct? That would be 6:13 PM as of now."

She tried to remember what time her dashboard said when she climbed in her car at the park. It had to be around 5, because the traffic was horrendous. "Can you rewind all the way to 4:13?" It wouldn't hurt to go a bit further back. She didn't mind playing baseball again. She just wanted to save Brady.

"Six hours then. You have the past six hours to redo, so spend them wisely. I sincerely hope you honor our agreement."

If it worked... "I will."

"Good. Now, step into the center of the circle and do not move until you cannot hear my voice anymore."

Amelia got off of the bed and stood in the center. Maybe once she was done humoring her cousin, they would talk about real things.

Alice raised her arms and began speaking in Latin too quickly for Amelia to translate fully, but from what she got it sounded like, "Make the clock reverse, and bring back what once was mine. (Then something else, she didn't catch it) The Fates' design and save what has been lost so you can bring back what once was mine." Then again, it was incredibly quick and she was more focused on the fact the chalk began to glow a pale, robin-egg blue. The light from the perimeter of the circle got closer and closer to her, and she squeezed her eyes shut from how blinding it was.

Then, she didn't hear Alice anymore.

Opening one eye, she found herself standing at bat, Brady up to pitch. It was the ninth inning again.

"Hey Amy, are you okay?"

Brady.

He was talking to her.

Frantically, she looked at his numbers.

Brady Henry Kaminski
11
12151979-01192034

2034. Thank god.

She'd done it. She actually went back in time.

That hit her like a rock.

It worked. Time travelling was real. And therefore,

So was magic.

-0-

Author's notes!

Whoo boy do I have a lot to say. 

First off, thank you to the anon who reviewed my story at 4:40 AM EST on May 1st. First review, and honestly, it felt great. Thank you for correcting my use of British slang as well. You'll find the document to be edited with your suggestion about knickers. I had a book when I was little that was called "The Queen's Knickers" and it was a silly little book about underwear, but apparently that doesn't apply to men??? I'm trying my best, so if anyone familiar with British slang sees misuse, please, speak up! Last thing I want is for the representative of England to incorrectly use their own slang. 

Second of all, I'd like to give a huge shout out to Sakuragane_San, a friend who has support my friend and I in our fic writing since 2019 and helped me beta not only the first chapter, but read through and helped spot the little things my beta missed. <3 you! 

Third, thank you to my friend Yeetlejuice for reading the first chapter despite not knowing what Hetalia is, admitting to finding it semi-decent(nearly brought a tear to my eye, I tell you), and for being responsible for fueling my urge to make the opening passages as annoying to read as possible. Not only that, but also hugs to Angie, who read my story with more excitement than anyone and really cemented Amelia as a character. 

Next, can I just give a huge shout-out to all the reviewers? All 4 of you made my day! Like, seriously. I refreshed my inbox every other hour and nearly cried every time I found one of your reviews. From the theories to people pointing out the Numbers of characters, I'm glad that you decided my fic was worth enough of your time to write a review! 

And lastly, a massive, overwhelming thanks to ReadtheBooks, an amazing person who has spent many hours talking to me about this chapter and the her culture. It is because of her that I got this chapter done so quickly, so that's something, but then she even decided to try a brand new platform to her just to help beta. That is commitment and I am so happy to have such an amazing beta. 

Now, to answer some questions/possible concerns:

-What are the numbers? 

Well, without spoiling it too much for those who haven't gotten it, pay attention to the last four digits before the dash and the last 4 digits of the sequence.(The X's in OOOOXXXX-OOOOXXXX)

-How often are updates?

As often as I can make em! But in all seriousness, this fic would've probably been released on May 4, 2020 if I was unbeta-d, but with my beta reader having her own life and myself not knowing many other Hetalia fans, I had to shove the whole beta-ing process onto her for the most part(Although I will say thanks to Sakuragane_San for helping lighten the load a bit!) If you still want to beta, trust me, I will open you with open arms. Not only will chapters come out faster, but you can ask me stuff directly about my story plans. 

-Why was Frozen referenced despite it being 1991?

If you know Hetalia, this line should be familiar: "We can't google thing in 1948 you asshat!" AKA, anachronisms. Anachronisms everywhere.

-How much longer until Hogwarts? The opening chapters are taking forever!

Well, I'm gonna estimate Hogwarts will begin at Chapter 4. This chapter was partially used to set up Amelia's character, since everyone has their own interpretation of her and I wanted to make it clear you all knew what my version of Amelia was like. Next chapter should hopefully be Amelia-healing time, meeting with Canada, and meeting with Australia. 

-Do you think you will ever abandon this story?

I really, really hope not. Usually, I abandon a story from lack of reviews because to me, it seems I'm just not making good enough content to be talked about. But, I will tell you, as soon as I find any review, no matter how big or small(though the big ones feel extra nice), I start working on the next chapter for that reviewer. Either way, even if I still only get a few reviewers, I'm still going to try to go forward.

-If other characters appear, when?

That's up for me to decide,  but I have quite of few in mind. 

I can't think of any more possible FAQs, so for now, I'll end the chapter here! Please remember to like this story if you enjoyed it, and if you have a little bit of extra time in your day, write even a short review. 

Thank you so much for reading, 

Msperfectsheep

P.S. Australians losing their shit over the fact Chicken and Waffles is a legitimate American dish is the funniest thing you will ever see(<3 you Elana and Lute)

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):
Alice "Ally" Kirkland: Nyo!England
Alfred Franklin Jones: America
Jane Papalya: Nyo!Australia
Ashlyn Jones: 2p!Nyo!America
James Williams: 2p!Canada
Oliver "Ollie" Kirkland: 2p!England
Joel Kensington: Ollie's Stylist
Samantha Bremmings: Ollie's stylist
Francis Bonnefoy: France
Coco: Flying Chocolate Bunny
Allan Jones: 2p!America
Uni: England's magical unicorn
Brady Kaminski: Amelia's baseball friend from LA
Charles "Charlie" Addamson: Amelia's baseball friend from LA
Lovino Vargas: Southern Italy
Carlos Alarcon: Dairy Queen worker