Thith'r art oth'r ways to dispatch a nation though. Thou doth wanteth naught oneth of 'em to confound the oth'r, although yond is the easiest waie.

Anoth'r waie to confound a nation is to confound the people. This wast proven by sev'rall accounts of nations fading aft'r their people hath changed. Someth did turn ento humans and and beganeth to age, liketh those gents'd been an ageless statueth hith'rto. Theie hath lived out their liveth 'i peaceth and eventuallie kicked the bucket, returning to the earth from which theie w'reth b'rn.

Yet someth just fad'd. Naie human life, nay retirement. Theie dissolved, and nought of 'em.

Mineth l'rd wishes to did rid himself of oneth of theseth nations, yet mayst that gent successfullie confound 't?

Onlie timeth shalt saie to.

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

-0-

While Matthew, Amelia, and Arthur fell asleep in the train car, Australia and Olivia explored the magical train. So far, it looked like a pretty standard, yet well-kept train, with chocolate brown wooden paneling, spotless glass, and clean upholstery. The sconces on the wall were a bit cheesy in Australia's opinion, but it fit the whole classy vibe the train went for.

"How long do you think it'll take for them to fall asleep?" he asked out of the blue. He'd rather talk than walk in silence, after all.

Olivia peered into another empty cabin. "Mmm...I'll say four minutes. You?"

"I'll go for five. Mattie didn't seem as tired." He ran his tiny fingers across the smooth wooden, cringing at how ugly his fingernails looked. He may have been teased for being the most wild-attuned of them, but he was also raised by Alice. Dirty, scraggly fingernails bothered him but being covered from head to toe in dust didn't, for some odd reason.

Olivia mimicked his movement. "Oh, that's just Mattie. He pretends like he isn't tired, but you leave him alone and he's out like a light. It's kinda cute. Oh look, there's someone!"

She looked to the left, where a man with light brown hair styled like João's was reading a book on the Second World War, clearly interested in the story. Australia usually would leave a man like that to his own devices, but Vee had no such reservations.

She grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward to the cabin, slamming open the door in the process. "Hello!"

The man yelped at the sudden greeting, dropping his book. "Goodness gracious me, hello to you two!"

He held his hand over his heart and used the other to pick up the book.

"Sorry for scaring you, sir," Australia apologized.

The bespectacled man shook his head. "It's no bother, really. How are you children?"

Vee invited herself right into the cabin and plopped herself down across from the man. "I'm doing well! I'm really excited to see Hogwarts!"

Australia stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Should he leave her to chat? Should he stick around and ask what the man was doing on the train, seeing as he was, so far, the only other person they'd seen?

"Are you now? Well, my dear, I'm sorry to disappoint, but the start of the term isn't for another month."

Australia tentatively sat down next to Vee. The man didn't appear to mind. Nations often said Australia was wild and had very little reservations, but that was different around humans. He was more polite, especially in this form. It was basic social etiquette for children to show adults respect and currently, he was physically a child and would have to act like one.

Olivia just went on with the conversation. "Oh, I know. My uncle's the new History of Magic teacher though, and so me and my cousins are coming along."

Australia stared at his cousin. This information was new to him. A month before? History of Magic? Either he hadn't been paying attention at the right times, or Alice skimmed over some info.

Sitting in on this conversation was definitely worth it, Australia decided. Even if he was posing as a...Mughal? No, that was the name of an empire. Moggle? That was closer, but still not right. Either way, he was posing as someone who'd never experienced magic in their life until now, but that didn't mean he had to go in completely blind.

"Your uncle, you say? What's his name?" The man placed the book to the side and focused on the two of them fully.

"Uncle Artie," she answered simply. "Oh, you mean his full name. Arthur Kirkland. I'm Olivia, by the way, and this is my lame cousin Jett."

Good move. Playing dumb was Olivia's specialty. Almost no one but Ollie could tell when she was faking unless they were in on it as well. Australia waved awkwardly at the man, exactly like how Gary did when he met strangers. "Hi."

The man looked surprised. "You don't sound English. Are you from...let me guess, Australia, right?"

"Yes, sir. There's no school of magic down there though, so he's staying with my family for his education." The lie came out of Vee's mouth before he could even answer. She gave him a quick glance that said, "I'll do the talking. Just listen for now." Then again, it was Olivia, so that glance could've been completely unintentional.

Australia just nodded. "That's right. I was a bit nervous about being the only exchange student there, but then I heard my other cousins, two of them aren't really my cousins blood wise but through marriage, are coming too." He said in one big breath.

The man blinked at the flood of information the two of them gave. "...That sounds exciting. I'm Professor Andy Toncinens, it's a pleasure. I'm the new Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts this year."

That was the word, muggle. Australia repeated the word mentally a few times. Rather than being excited, Olivia frowned a bit. "Muggle Studies? But muggles are so boring. They don't even have magic."

"Have you ever thought of how that may be a good thing? Here, look." He showed them the contents of his book, with diagrams of muggle-made machines. "Witches and wizards have relied on magic for transportation for so long. Magic for medicine. Magic for locating missing items. But not muggles. They started with nothing and managed to build machines that are sometimes superior to what the wizarding world has!"

The more he spoke, the better feel Australia had of Professor Toncinens's personality. He could easily pass for an engineering enthusiast, or possibly even a science teacher for younger children. Meanwhile, Olivia did a fantastic job of prodding the Professor in just the right places for him to show this personality. People called Antonio manipulative sometimes, but he was nothing compared to her.

Olivia swung her legs, looking rather bored. "Meh. They can't apparate or use portkeys. Sure, airplanes are cool looking or whatever, but it's not fast enough to be efficient."

Professor Toncinens looked shocked. "You know what airplanes are?"

"Of course. I grew up in the muggle world for the most part. My mom's a witch though. And my dumb cousin is a muggle-born." She pulled some sweets out of her pocket (Australia did NOT want to know how long they'd been there or what was inside of them) and began to munch.

"I'm not dumb," he said, slightly insulted, even if he knew it was a cover. "I've just never learned about any of this magical stuff."

The professor shook his head. "No, no, no. That's excellent. Tell me, do you know who Adolf Hitler is?"

"Of course I do. Bloody bloke kept trying to destroy several ethnic groups all over Europe, led the world into World War II, and did a bunch of other terrible stuff!" Olivia ranted, crossing her arms. "And he tried to sink England, can't forget that. Bloody air raids!"

"Don't forget the Third Reich," Australia added.

The two of them bounced off of each other, listing anything and everything pertaining to Adolf Hitler or World War II. Professor Toncinens's face grew more and more perplexed as they went on, like he couldn't fathom two 12-year-olds talking about history in-depth. When he saw an opening in the conversation, he took it.

"How much else do you know about the muggle world?"

The two of them shared a look.

"Uh...everything?" Australia tried.

Toncinens's face lit up as if Australia told him it was his birthday and Christmas at the same time, and Australia regretted his response instantly.

The barrage of questions and notepad came out only seconds later. "What is the purpose of the internet? Why are telephones in nearly every house? Why do muggles each want their own car when there are trains and the Tube?" and so on. Olivia tried to answer the majority of them, but gave Australia a few so it wouldn't seem like she was purposefully trying to cover for him. The utter excitement this man had for the simplest of machines baffled Australia. If he loved the "muggle" side of society so much, why not live in it?

"Excuse me for interrupting, but why do wizards feel like they need to hide, especially if their magic can do the amazing stuff Vee told me about?"

Toncinens pursed his lips, trying to come up with an answer. "I suppose it would be because then all they'd do is demand for us to use our magic to help them."

"But...isn't it selfish not to help them? If you can heal broken bones with a quick tap or tell what drink is poisoned, then so many more people wouldn't be dead," Australia argued.

The professor sighed. "Think of it like this. Muggles take advantage of those with more abilities than they have. They poke and prod and ask questions similar to yours. Us wizards just want to live peacefully without being guilted into having to spend every waking minute helping others. It is a bit selfish I suppose, but it's what keeps us safe and happy. Plus, muggles often fear what they don't understand."

Australia stood. This was ridiculous. Sure, the man was well intentioned, but he had no idea what he was talking about. Olivia shot him a glare but he ignored it. "Everyone—no, every living thing—fears what it doesn't understand. It's how they survive. Wizards should thank muggles for their contributions, because without them you wouldn't have metallurgy for cauldrons, or steam-engines for trains. The least you can do is help them out."

"Son," Professor Toncinens said, placing his hand on Australia's shoulder. "You'd make an excellent speech writer. I understand your point, but you're preaching to the wrong person. Maybe when you're older you can bring it up with the Ministry."

What an ass. He was talking down to him, and his words were as false as Australia's appearance. He couldn't bring himself to continue debating, because he didn't want a kid to win an argument against him. Australia scowled.

"Maybe. Vee, I'm gonna go walk around a bit, alright?"

She nodded. "Alright."

He threw open the cabin door and walked out. Were all wizards like this? Were they so full of themselves that they couldn't think of those who couldn't use magic? Or was it just the teacher who claimed to care so much about said magic-less people?

He was so wrapped up in angry thoughts that he nearly ran straight into a snack cart. He stopped just in time before the woman pushing the cart had to swerve. "I'm sorry! I didn't see where I was going."

The old lady looked at him innocently, her stare a bit empty. "Anything from the trolley, dear?"

It was filled to the brim with colorful packaged snacks that looked tempting, but Australia already had packed snacks and sandwiches from England's place. "No thank you, Miss...? I'm sorry, what's your name?"

One of England's citizens probably, since he couldn't see her numbers and her accent was clearly from around here.

She blinked and stared. "I've forgotten."

"What?"

She smiled, but it had no meaning. "I don't remember my name. I haven't used it in so long..."

"Oh." He met people like her before, ones who didn't remember or have a name. "Well, my name's Jett. Is there anything you want me to call you by?"

"Anything you'd like, dear."

He tried thinking up a name. Millie didn't exactly fit. Neither did Victoria.

"How about Henrietta?" That was a British enough name.

The old lady's smile became genuine. "That's a beautiful name. Thank you. For that, have a chocolate frog."

She gave him a purple-packaged dessert. "I'll look forward to seeing you again."

"Same here, Ms. Henrietta."

She winked at him before continuing on with her trolley. Australia watched her leave and looked at the chocolate frog.

"This has been one of the weirder train rides I've ever been on," he admitted to the confectionery amphibian.

It looked sympathetically back at him from behind the wall of plastic.

"Oh! So you can hear me then? Is that because of magic?" He was honestly expecting anything to be possible in the wizarding world, so a moving piece of candy that seemed to be sentient was possible, right?

The frog gave a little "ribbet", which Australia took as a yes.

"Then it'd be cruel to eat you. I think you'd be much better as my friend, whaddya say?"

The frog ribbetted again, which was enough proof for Australia to open the packaging. the frog hopped out onto his hand, perfectly happy. "How about I name you Henry, after the lady who gave you to me?"

Henry seemed to be happy with that.

-0-

He was in Alberta, watching some kids play on an empty school playground. The sky was a perfect light blue, and the temperature only a bit too hot for his liking. The kids were young, but not too young for parents to be worried about supervising them. The oldest had to be around fourteen or so, but his numbers were too small and far away for Canada to read. He sat on a bench, watching the day go by.

He didn't know why he hadn't flashed to the next vision yet, but he didn't mind being stuck in this one. It was soothing, and there was nothing like just sitting outside on a nice day.

But it was about to change, he could feel it. He barely stood up before he flashed again, this time to—

—Nope, it wasn't a flash. He was waking up. Maybe that was why he could tell it was going to change, or rather, end. He groggily sat up and rubbed his eyes, feeling around the seat for wherever his glasses had fallen.

Why had he woken up?

"Oh thank Jesus you're alive."

It was Amelia. That explained it.

"Whaht's wrong?" He spotted his glasses on the carpet and slid them on.

He almost regretted doing so. Amelia looked like a train wreck, even when he was ignoring her bad attempt to modernize a 17th century dress. Her hair was matted with what he assumed to be sweat, because her face was also slick. Her cheeks were flushed, but the rest of her skin was pale.

"Maple, whaht happened?"

She gripped him by the arm and stared. Her hands were shaking. "He talked to me Mattie. To me."

"Excusez-moi?" He didn't mean to slip into French, but it just happened.

Amelia noticed. "Don't French me now, dammit! This is important! Brady talked to me."

"Ahlright, ahlright, cahlm down. Who eez Brady?"

She pulled down on her cheeks in frustration. "A normal kid from LA that I play ball with sometimes. I was dreaming, right, and I somehow managed to see him and his buddies playing catch, right?"

It took a moment for him to process her words, she was speaking so quickly. "...Right?"

"Right!" She threw her arms up into the air. "So I was just watching him and his buddies play and I say something and BRADY LOOKS AT ME AND STARTS TO TALK TO ME."

"No need to raise your voice!" he whispered in alarm, glancing at Arthur. "Just...tahke a few deep breaths."

"I don't want to take deep breaths. I want you to explain to me why the ever-loving fuck a kid talked to me in a dream. It's supposed to be like a movie! Characters don't talk to you, and they certainly don't reply to your comments! Please...just, if you know anything, at all, just the tiniest bit of information, tell me." She ran her small fingers through her now bonnet-less hair. Canada figured it was just something she did to keep her hands moving.

But, all things aside, he didn't know how to answer her. He'd never heard of people—human nonetheless—responding to him or anyone else in their dreams. Sure, there were hallucinations whenever he got high with the Netherlands, but that was different entirely. "...I dahn't know."

Her face fell. "Of course you don't. Jesus H. Christ, you're useless."

"Ahmy, zhere's no need to get ahngry. I'm trying my best here," he reasoned. Her insult stung, but she'd said much, much worse to him in the several centuries they'd known each other for. He just had to keep calm and go on. "Tahlk to me. Explain every beet of your dream een detail."

She looked away from him for a while, staring at the passing green hills of Scotland rolling by. Canada wasn't sure if he saw a tear or two slide down her cheeks, but he didn't ask. He let her take her time.

"...It started in Iowa. I was...I was in a cornfield, and it was a really, really nice day. And, um, then I heard? No, I saw something laying on the ground a few feet away from me, but the corn stalks were so dense I couldn't get a clear view. Wait, no, that's not right. I didn't see the thing at first, I saw a flock of...crows? Ravens? One of the two circling something. Then I walked forward and managed to take a peek at what was on the ground."

Canada didn't exactly trust the words coming out of her mouth. It wasn't because she was a liar or anything of the sort, but because she couldn't seem to keep her facts straight. "Was eet Brahdy?"

She shook her head. "No, um, it looked like a dog? It may have been dead, I'm not really sure, but it was just lying there. I flashed to the next image before I could get a better peek."

"Whaht hahppened next?"

"The next one was..." She closed her eyes. "No, not the break up. The beach. Yes. I was on a beach in Texas, watching some kids play, and uh, the oldest one—he had really black hair—was throwing like, balls of wet sand at his younger siblings. And the mom was...sleeping I think?"

It didn't sound very important, but Canada wouldn't be able to tell until he had everything to reference. "Was zhere anything eelse noticeable zhere?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and drew up her face into a scrunched up one that looked like it belonged to a baby that just tried its first lemon. "The dad. He and his youngest kid buried their feet. But no one else was on the beach other than them."

"And zhen you flahshed to zhe next one?"

"Yeah." She paused.

"...This was the last one before Brady's. I was standing on top of a building in...It felt like Vermont, but it could've been New Hampshire, now that I think about it. Two teens were breaking up in the middle of a dark street, and that was it. The boy cheated on her, I think."

"Zhat's ahwful." He didn't really have anything else to say to that. It was unpleasant to watch a break up in general.

She heaved a sigh. "And then, the dream went to Brady. He was playing at the park we usually play at, in L.A. He was waiting to bat, and I said something like..."

"...Like?"

"I dunno, something like, 'I'll be back, don't worry'. I don't remember exactly, because just...the next thing he did was just so shocking."

Canada closed his eyes. "He spahke to you, een your dreams, cahrrect?" He said it like it was an unpleasant admittance.

She just nodded.

"He...I remember now. I said, 'I'll be back, I promise. It's just a year. Hold on, until then. Then we can play some more baseball—' and then he interrupted me by saying, 'You promise?'"

Amelia covered her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks. "He knew, Mattie, he knew. I didn't say anything to him before I left, I promise."

He patted her leg, unsure of anything else that he could do that would seem assuring but not invasive. "Was eet Brahdy's voice?"

Her big, blue, ocean-colored eyes focused on him.

"...Yes," she whispered.

Matthew took it all in. Ravens and crows...there was a rhyme for them. Sure, usually he wouldn't look for symbolism in a dream, but it was clear this was no ordinary dream. How did the rhyme go? One for sorrow, two for mirth, three for death, four for birth? That sounded right.

"Ahmelia, cahn you tell me how mahny rahvens you saw?" he tried. Her memory was clearly not in good shape right now, but if he could just try to find something...

"What? Oh, uh..." She took a moment. "Seven. There were seven that I saw."

Merde.

Five for silver, six for gold, and seven for a secret never to be told.

-0-

"Come on old man, wake up!"

England looked up from the pier he was sitting on. The sky was heavy with grey clouds and a thick layer of dark fog covered the water below.

When the voice cut through the air, things shifted. The fog became less dense, and the sky brighter. The air smelled less like the ocean and more like...

The inside of a train.

Before he could even say what he now knew what was happening, his dreams ended. He sat upright and opened his eyes, staring at a group of multi-colored people-shaped blobs until his vision cleared.

Unfortunately, his vision didn't become clear fast enough for him to stop Olivia from poking his cheek. "I think he's alive now. What do you think?"

Yep, definitely Olivia. He swatted the space where her hand once was, like it was still there and would poke him again.

"Yes, I'm still alive. Boo-hoo," he grumbled.

"Oh. Good for you to have not kicked the bucket yet."

He didn't see who that came from. It was quiet enough to be Matthew, but his voice wasn't that feminine, and Olivia's voice wasn't that deep.

"Amelia?" It was a stretch, but Olivia and Amelia were the only two women he traveled with.

She waved, but it was a half-hearted effort. "Heya, Pops. Have a nice snooze?"

Everything coming out of her mouth sounded tired and beaten down.

What was going on?

Amelia sounded like she'd just been told that America was communist now, Olivia was fine, and Jett just had a chocolate frog sitting in his hair. Matthew was nowhere to be seen, as usual.

"Um, yes. Yes I did. What exactly am I being woken up for?"

The children looked at each other in silence. Were they keeping a secret from him?

A realization hit him in the face like a bag of bricks.

"What did you do? Did you scribble on my face?" he demanded. He zeroed in on Jett and Amelia instantly. Which of them was more likely to do this?

But both didn't look amused, but confused.

"Uh, no? Look outside man. The train's stopped." Amelia crossed her arms. "And since we don't know shit about this place, you gotta show us around so we don't get lost or whatever."

Oh. England's face reddened. He'd forgotten that while yes, they had the bodies of children, all of them were respectable adults at some point in the past (even Amelia, he conceded). Yet again, even as adults, Jett wasn't afraid to sneak a Huntsman spider onto his bed at night occasionally if he was in a certain mood, and how could England forget about Amelia and her hot dog eating contests?

He stood up and brushed his suit off. Rarely did his cousins see him without his standard military garb, but it would be unprofessional to walk into a workspace wearing it. Instead, he'd went with a simple, yet well-tailed, tweed suit. No one could refuse a good tweed suit.

"Righty then, follow me." He led the children out of the train and out to the station, where a man with long, silvery hair, half-moon glasses, and a long, crooked nose waited for them. England knew who he was on sight, even without the numbers.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
110
07071881-30061997

He was the current headmaster of Hogwarts. England held out his hand for a proper handshake, and Dumbledore accepted.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Mr. Kirkland," the old wizard said jovially.

England released his hand from Dumbledore's grip and smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I was ecstatic to be able to teach at the UK's finest institution of magic."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled the way a kind old person's did in cartoons.

"And who are you?" He directed the question at the children standing behind England.

"These are my younger cousins and sister, all of which are of the age to learn magic and have proven to have the capability to do so. This is Olivia, my younger sister," he started, waving his hand in the direction of his pigtailed companion.

She waved shyly. "Nice to meet you, sir."

"This is Amelia and her brother Matthew, from North America. Instead of attending Ilvermorny, their parents decided it would be best if they went to school with their cousins, so they would have someone they could rely on throughout the year."

Amelia nodded at Dumbledore, and England instantly regretted allowing her to talk the moment he saw the chaotic gleam in her ocean-blue eyes. "'Sup, D-man."

Oh, he was going to lecture her later. No one in their right mind would greet their headmaster like that.

Matthew clearly had the same opinions, as he stared at his sister in shock. No reply, no greeting whatsoever. Just a stare.

"And I'm Jett, from 'straya! Nice to meet you, Mr. Sir!" Jett shoved England to the side and shook Dumbledore's hand himself. "I'm so excited to be here!"

England wanted to drop to the floor, curl up, close his eyes, and wake up to find this was only a dream or hallucination. Sadly, it didn't work that way. He grabbed Jett roughly by the shoulders and pushed him behind. "I am...Dumbledore, I sincerely apologize for their actions."

"I don't! This is awesome!"

He was going to wring Amelia's neck later, or so help him God. He restrained himself from just doing it there on the spot, only because Dumbledore was there.

The old headmaster's silence was uncomfortable, but he broke it with a light-hearted laugh. "They're only children, Mr. Kirkland. Let them be comfortable with who they are, for if you don't, they will never truly know themselves. Come, come, we have much to discuss."

However, they didn't move. Dumbledore stood there, looking at the train, appearing to wait for someone. England caught on. "Are we waiting for any other teachers?"

Dumbledore gave no other physical form of confirmation other than a quick wink. "Muggle Studies. Our former professor for that position recently asked to fill the ever-empty position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, so a new professor for Muggle Studies was needed."

It made sense. England was surprised he hadn't known that there was another passenger on the train. But Olivia and Jett's reactions to the new knowledge made it all too clear they had at least seen the professor.

And then, there he was. At first glance, England would've thought him to be João, but this man was too tall and had a more mild energy to him. Olivia waved at the man and he waved back.

"Hello, Headmaster Dumbledore. It's a delight to return here." He held out his hand to the old wizard.

Dumbledore shook as firmly as he had with England. "Professor Kirkland, meet Professor Toncinens. He was a former student here, and an excellent one at that."

Color flushed Toncinens' cheeks. "Professor—"

A wave of Dumbledore's hand cut off the young teacher. "There is no need to deny the truth, Professor. Now, come. We have much to get through before tonight's supper. Children, while we are busy with documents and other boring pleasantries, you are free to explore the grounds. I only ask you not to venture into the Forbidden Forest, and to not go near the third-floor corridor on the right hand side, lest you wish to die unpleasant deaths."

England understood the good intention behind Dumbledore's warning, but he wished he'd forgotten to say it. He knew that the moment he took his eyes off of the children, the first thing they'd do was try to explore the forbidden places. They probably would survive without any major injuries, but if word got to Dumbledore, England was in a boatload of trouble.

"Right. Let's go then."

He didn't even have time to yell at Amelia in private before he was whisked away to Dumbledore's office.

-0-

Re-entering the castle for the first time in centuries felt strange. There wasn't really a word for it, at least not one in English. It was that feeling when you returned to a place you'd forgotten. The remodeling they'd done since his leave looked fantastic. The stone walls of the castle were smooth and clean, the floors were buffed and polished, and the windows had glass to prevent any mishaps.

Did Dumbledore even know he once attended this school? It had only been for a year, and it was just to test the curriculum, but even then, the standard of magic was lower than his own skills. He preferred the ancient magic, the things that were spoken by the very earth itself into his ear.

And then there was Dumbledore's office. The previous headmaster (actually, the one that had been present several centuries ago during England's time here) had used a completely different space for his office, so the location of Dumbledore's was a bit of a mind-bender. He did find the statue hiding it to be clever, though.

But dear God, the inside of the office was messier than Hong Kong's rooms. The room was large and circular, with a tall, domed ceiling. Tables, shelves, and various other types of cabinets covered almost the entire perimeter of the room and were filled to the brim with colourful and metallic knick-knacks. Some smoked, some chittered, and some moved.

England suspected most of them to be confiscated toys, but that wasn't all. Paintings of previous headmasters and teachers covered the walls above the cabinets, most of which were either asleep or missing. Some paintings even went over other ones.

And lastly, sitting atop a brilliant red coloured Persian carpet, was an enormous, claw-footed, polished wooden desk, piled high with scrolls, books, empty ink wells, and more random nonsense. Dumbledore sat in the high-backed chair on the other side of the desk, facing them.

"Please, sit." He waved his hand and two chairs pulled themselves out from the piles of toys covering them. England gladly sat down, and Toncinens followed suit.

"First of all, I'd like to formally welcome you to Hogwarts. Whether this is your first visit or a return, the castle is welcoming and ready to house you and the knowledge you have to share. Wine gum?" He held out a bowl of assorted candies. England took two, partially to be polite, but also because the gin wine gums were delicious.

"Now, let us talk about your classes. Here is a copy of the subjects that will be expected to show up on this year's N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s, organized by year. At Hogwarts, we believe in allowing the teachers a freedom when it comes to their teaching, so as long as all the subjects listed on the parchment are covered, you will have free reign over what else you cover and what you assign."

England flipped through the papers. The amount of subjects listed per year were sparse in places, and incredibly vague. All that was written for the third years was "Witch Hunts". Nothing else. He glanced at Toncinen's paper and saw a similar list.

This curriculum needed a restructuring as soon as possible. "Pardon, but is there any syllabi I can use for reference when creating this year's one for History of Magic?"

Both Toncinens and Dumbledore looked confused.

"Syllabi?" Dumbledore sounded it out as if he'd never heard the word. "I'm sorry, but I don't think Binns or any of the teachers in the past have ever bothered to write a syllabus."

Dumbledore may have just slapped England across the face, it'd have the same effect. "I-what? You must be joking. No syllabi?"

It was useless to even ask. He knew what their answer was already, and it wasn't what he wanted to hear. A brand new syllabus for seven different grades made in under a month, plus he'd need to research what textbooks he wanted to use and—good heavens, just thinking about it all sounded dreadful.

"Kirkland, are you alright?"

He came out of his self-inflicted nightmare. "Uh, yes. Quite. Carry on."

"Next, the textbooks for your students have already been chosen by the previous instructor. For this year, you must have to work around it, but after this term you may assign whatever textbook to see fit. A copy of each grade's chosen instructional material will be carried to your rooms."

That was maybe a good thing? Sure, required textbooks always had their faults, but at least he wouldn't have to spend several days flipping through books trying to determine which one he'd use. Plus, worksheets and handouts existed for a reason. England nodded along.

Lastly, it'll be your duties to uphold the school code at all times. House points are to be awarded for correct answers to difficult questions, acts of charity, et cetera, and the reverse for taking them away. The more impactful the act is, the more points are to be awarded or subtracted. It's a simple system that keeps most students in order. However, extreme acts of disobedience earn detention..."

England barely paid attention to Dumbledore's words. He knew all this already from his time here. The punishment system at Hogwarts seemed to have not changed ever so slightly. Well, a bit, because he didn't hear anything about being switched for excessive cursing. Maybe some students just made the teachers give up, or Dumbledore didn't mind.

Either way, that'd surely be a relief to several nations, himself included. He would obviously try to keep cursing to a minimum, but in some instances it slipped out.

"Professor Toncinens, dinner is waiting for you in the Great Hall. Please, excuse us." Dumbledore dismissed the young man, leaving him and England completely alone.

"Now, Arthur."

He straightened at the sound of his human name. "Yes?"

"Your younger family members are allowed to stay on school grounds until the start of the term, but since their presence was unplanned for, they'll have to stay in your quarters for the first days of your training as well as be tested for magic. No muggle could enter the magical barrier surrounding Hogwarts without falling asleep for at least a day, but they could have too little magic to be worth teaching, if you excuse my bluntness."

"No, I understand perfectly," England responded smoothly. "It was rude of me not to give warning of their arrival, and it is extremely considerate of you to let them stay for the next month. Thank you."

The headmaster's eyes twinkled like stars, bright but distant. "It's my pleasure. Before you and I leave to join Professor Toncinens at supper, mind if you gather your family and we test them for magic? The body is at its lowest magical capability when one is tired and hungry."

England seriously doubted that the children would be tired after only a few minutes of being left unattended, especially since both Matthew and Amelia took a nap on the train, but he didn't see any other reason to argue with Dumbledore. It was just a test of magical capability, which all of them had.

"I'll fetch them immediately, sir." He pushed out his chair, gathered his papers, and headed towards the door. "This won't take very long."

He climbed down the stone stairs and stepped out from behind the statue, walking the halls and scanning the outside for any proof one of the kids had been there. But to no avail, his eyes didn't spot any of the children as he made his way down to the Hogwarts entrance.

Fine then, he'd do it the quick way. He looked around to make sure he was alone, and wandlessly cast a finding spell. Technically, it was a variant of Accio, but much more gentle on whatever was summoned.

Still, just because it was more gentle did not stop Olivia from flying straight into him and knocking him against the castle wall. Both of the English representatives fell to the ground with soft noises of pain and discomfort.

"What was that for?" Olivia stood, brushing her borrowed pink dress off. "I was looking at these tapestries on the second floor and suddenly I'm being yanked through the halls like I'm a fish being pulled from a fishing line."

He laid flat on the ground, aware that three more people would hurtle towards the spot he once stood. "Apologies, but it was the most efficient way to find you all."

On cue, Matthew and Amelia came flying in from opposite directions and collided with each other, falling into a confused heap of white linen, blonde hair, and random limbs. Jett fell from the roof right on top of them, like a cherry on a sundae.

"What the hell—?"

"Ouch! Motherfucker!"

"What?"

England removed himself from the ground, seeing as now everyone was here. He gave a hand to Jett and pulled him off of the North American twins, who desperately tried to untangle themselves before Jett had arrived.

Matthew slipped out from underneath Amelia and stretched, likely trying to at least ease the pain from flying straight into another moving object the size of himself. Amelia laid there, complaining and cussing at anyone and anything.

Jett just stared. "Bonza! How'd you do that?"

"Bro, was that English? What the hell does 'bonza' mean?" Amelia lifted her head to stare at her cousin, presumably decided it was too much effort, and set her head back down.

"It means that whatever Artie did was bloody awesome, that's what. Am I gonna learn how to yank people anywhere I want? Because that would be super useful," Jett answered.

England shook his head. "Firstly, no, not for a while, and definitely not for something as large as a child. Second of all, Amelia, get your arse off the floor. Dumbledore's waiting."

"For what?" She lifted her torso off at least, but made no effort to stand.

He sighed heavily and yanked her to her feet by the arm. "He's doing a test to see what your capacity for magic is. He'll probably utilize some sort of magical object, so just follow his instruction and you'll be fine. Olivia, you have the bracelet, correct?"

She lifted her arm for him to see. The bracelet safely clasped around her wrist. It was such an ancient object that England was more than sure Dumbledore wouldn't recognize it. "Right then, let's head off. As soon as we're done, dinner will be ready and waiting."

That was convincing enough to get them moving. It was strange, how their current forms affected their mindset. They had the knowledge and rationale of adults, but every now and then childish instincts took over, leaving them partially defenseless against schoolyard taunts or whining when they're tired.

It was really like he'd just pulled them out of the past but gave them a few days to learn modern slang and politics, in a weird way.

England led them to Dumbledore's office, the password to which was currently "Jelly Tots". The nations followed him up the spiral staircase rather silently, perhaps because they were processing the way magic worked or violated the rules of physics.

"Headmaster, we're here," he announced, rounding the corner. The old man sat at the desk, reading something.

He looked up at the children as they entered and smiled gently. "Welcome to my office. Has Professor Kirkland told you what I wanted you here for?"

"Yeah, to test us for magic. Can I go first?" Jett was practically jumping.

"Of course." Dumbledore stepped out from behind his desk and inspected the shelves for something. His fingers hovered over several separate items, but Dumbledore eventually settled for a simple crystal mined in Finland several centuries ago. It was completely colourless and transparent, giving a look of pristine glass, but still retaining its crystalline shape.

The moment Dumbledore grabbed it, the crystal turned a deep purple. He handed it off to Jett, who gripped it as tightly as an amateur would hold a sword. His knuckles were almost white.

The crystal turned a deep, earthy green almost instantly. England raised his eyebrow in surprise. Green, what an interesting colour.

Dumbledore had a similar reaction. He watched the crystal with interest, and once it was clear that the colour was a deep green, he took it away, turning the colour back to purple.

"Who's next?"

Matthew stepped forward and opened up his palms. Unlike Jett, Matthew kept his hand open and flat, like he was holding a carrot for a horse to eat. The crystal shifted a bit between blue and purple, but eventually settled on a light shade of cornflower blue. Matthew looked uncertainly at England, probably worried by how light the colour was compared to Dumbledore's and Jett's, but England just nodded to send him a non-verbal cue that it was alright.

Dumbledore stared again, but for a lesser duration than Jett. He gently pulled the crystal from Matthew's hands and watched it reset to deep purple.

Amelia shoved her way forward. "Alright, I'll try this overrated mood stone."

She took the crystal from Dumbledore and watched the purple flare up almost immediately as a bright, deep scarlet. The colour of drying blood.

Dumbledore didn't waste his time taking the crystal away from her. Slowly, the red faded, but it was much slower than the green and light blue.

Olivia was last. She stepped forward and waited for Dumbledore to give her the crystal, which she accepted with shaking hands. The crystal nearly turned colourless, giving England a mini heart attack, but it didn't stay clear. It very, very slowly, turned to a soft blushing pink.

The fear subsided. The bracelet worked after all. England found himself smiling. "Headmaster, as you can see, they all have the capability to perform magic."

Dumbledore took the crystal from Olivia and set it back to its original place, the colour fading until it was once again clear and colourless. "It appears so. Thank you, children. Dinner is waiting for us in the Great Hall, so let's not waste any more time. The house elves always outdo themselves."

England nodded, but he wasn't listening. Green, light blue, red, and light pink. Those were the colours.

Green. Indicative of strong earth magic, specifically the ancient type. The magic of trolls, goblins, and dryads. Rarely were humans seen with that colour, and if they were, they had a high capacity for wandless magic and herbology.

Light blue. A colour that often appeared for those talented in charms and transfiguration. He would've never pegged Matthew to be a charms person. He would've expected him to be good with wandless magic, not the opposite, but magic worked in mysterious ways he still didn't quite understand.

Scarlet. The colour indicative of one talented with offensive magic and battling. Scarlet being Amelia's colour came as no surprise to England whatsoever.

Light pink. Alice's colour was a deeper pink, closer to magenta, and that was the colour of one with a great understanding of prophecy and alchemy. Olivia having a lighter version of Alice's colour made sense.

So why did he feel like the colours were wrong?

-0-

Olivia walked behind Arthur and Dumbledore, trying to keep up with their quick pace. For an old, regular human, Dumbledore was fast. She and Amelia struggled to keep up in their dresses, just like at the train station. Olivia grabbed her skirt and hiked it up to avoid falling on the folds of extra fabric, but it only did so much.

Amelia had a much harder time, since her dress was simply just much more structured and she was not used to wearing outfits so restrictive compared to her modern dress. Olivia held out her small hand to help out her cousin, but Amelia ignored it.

Fine, be bullheaded. Olivia retracted her arm and used it to hike up the other side of her skirt. Amy always bragged about being athletic, but with her country's obsession with fast food, Olivia wouldn't be surprised if her arteries weren't completely solid with fat and cholesterol.

What were they called, the little snack "cakes" that Alfred had her try one time? Zebra cakes? The memory of such a disastrous, chemical-filled, disgusting "cake" was enough to make her vomit. Where were the good classic bundt, sponge, or angel food cakes?

America surely didn't know, otherwise it wouldn't settle for such, pardon her French, shit.

She gained on her brother now that she carried her skirt full time, while Amelia trailed behind. Olivia felt a bit bad for her cousin, but she could count more than enough times Amelia left her in the dust. This was simply payback.

She followed her brother, Dumbledore, and her cousins down the stairs to the Great Hall.

It really was deserving of its title. The ceiling was so realistically painted to look like the night sky that stars appeared twinkling and hundreds of candles floated above. Dozens of high-backed chairs and platters of food decorated the long wooden tables stretching across the room. A few teachers were already eating, but the number of seats taken compared to the people present was overwhelming.

The scent filling the Great Hall was amazing. The smell of fish, chips, curry, stew, peas, carrots, bread, and so much more mixed together. Her stomach growled.

Dumbledore produced his wand and converted four of the high-backed chairs into smaller ones for her and her cousins to sit at.

"Minerva, Argus, Andrew, this is Professor Kirkland and his cousins. While Professor Binns trains Arthur for the next semester of History of Magic, these four children will be staying in the castle. Although they are not assigned to any house yet, do enforce the rules of the castle upon them and give them detention if their behavior warrants it."

Dumbledore walked around the table and sat down in the very center seat. "Arthur, your seat is two to the left of Minerva."

Jett plopped himself down in one of the chairs, and the rest of his siblings followed (even Amelia, who managed to catch up somehow). Olivia nestled herself in next to Matthew and waited for further instruction. She was in no hurry to somehow mess up and look stupid in front of her future teachers. This was her chance to learn magic, she was not going to give it up.

"Please, help yourselves. Our kitchen staff love it when our staff and students enjoy their food."

Olivia overheard Amelia whispering to Matthew, "Do you think this is safe to eat? It's British."

"I see a steak right zere, ahnd eet looks perfectly fine," Matthew replied dryly, not caring to whisper.

"Oh, cool!" Amelia's apparent worries faded and she went straight into the platter. Olivia helped herself to a good steak and kidney pie with a side of boiled carrots. The food was incredibly delicious, from the flaky crust of the pie to the rich, meaty flavour of the filling. She practically melted with happiness. This tasted like Ollie's cooking, only with less overpowering flavours.

As she made her way through the pie, she observed her future teachers, Minerva and Argus. Minerva looked as stern as Alice back in the days of the Empire, with her sharp eyes and mouth drawn into a serious expression. Her greying black hair pulled up into a neat bun, and her glasses only reminded her more of Alice, although the frame's colours were different.

Olivia decided she liked her, especially if she was like Ally. Then there was Filch, who looked considerably less attractive and graceful than Ms. Minerva.

He had hunched shoulders like Raivis's, and a face like none other. His cheeks were sunken and veiny, his eyes were hollow, his jowls hung, and his skin was pouchy and pasty. His few remaining hairs were greasy. A massive bald spot fixed right atop his head, making it clear that his scalp was smooth and liver-spotted.

He didn't seem friendly, not from the way he kept eyeing her and her cousins. She tentatively decided to be weary of him. If he turned out to be a sweet, yet ugly, old man, she'd be open to changing her opinions.

Dinner was relatively peaceful. The best way she could put it into words was that they were all tired and just couldn't muster the energy to fool around.

Olivia felt like her cousins were so tired and unanimated because they were overwhelmed. As people unaccustomed to magic, this castle would be a sensory overload. Matthew confirmed her suspicions by the great amount of time he spent watching the sky, hugging Kumajiro tightly in his arms.

Well after the five of them ate dinner and crowded into Arthur's room, Olivia thought of something while laying in bed.

She and her cousins would have a month of experience on the school grounds over any other first year. How much would they be able to discover without classes to fill their day?

Just from her family's determination alone, she suspected they'd have a map of the entire castle by the start of the school year.

-0-

Author's Note:

Hello! Week 2 of trying for more consistent updates of "roughly once a week". Let's see how long I last, alright?

This chapter was a bit of filler in all regards, but we're climbing towards the main events! It was super fun to do a bit of world building this chapter, introduce the Muggle Studies teacher, get Henry to join Jett's ever-growing posse of animals, and talk about just in general, magic. Hagrid's not at school because he's fetching Harry, but he'll show up soon enough. Most of the other teachers aren't there currently because they have their own lives outside of Hogwarts, but McGonagall is the Deputy Headmistress, and Filch is the security guard.

Now, time for shout-outs. As always, first off, thank you to my betas, especially the newbie to the group, Respire_Sodastone! They've been so amazing when it comes to grammar and headcanons that my day's feel brighter when they talk with my other betas(ReadtheBooks Louie) and I about dumb story headcanons, Hetalia in general, or random stuff.

Second of all, thank you to the following commentors: The wonderful Guest on FF.net who started their review with a very bold, eye-catching "TO HOGWARTS!", twashcat, Syntax-N, and of course, the two betas who commented, ReadtheBooks and Respire_Sodastone. Every single comment makes me smile, and let me tell you, you do not want to know how many times I refresh my inbox daily, because it is embarrassing.

Third of all, just a general thank you to anyone who has shown interest in my story, whether it was a follow, kudos, or favorite. It means so much that people are taking interest in this fic, especially this late in the Hetalia fandom. My readers mean the world to me!

Remember, you're always more than welcome to beta my story, see scrapped bits, possibly influence later side events, and more on the Hallowed Halls discord. Contact me at Fluff#0929 on Discord or those2peeps at gmail.com for more info!

For now, I must bid you adieu until the next chapter release.

With love,

Msperfectsheep

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
João Henrique Lisboa-Carriedo: Portugal
Oliver "Ollie" Kirkland: 2p!England
Andy Toncinens: Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts
Henrietta: The Trolley Witch on the Hogwarts Express
Henry: The best chocolate frog to ever survive a child, friend of Jett's
Antonio Fernandez Carriedo: Spain
Raivis Galante: Latvia
Albus "I have a bunch of middle names" Dumbledore: Headmaster of Hogwarts
Minerva McGonagall: Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts
Argus Filch: Caretaker of Hogwarts