Canada sighed. He wasn't sure about England's plan. Yet here he was, standing at King's Cross, ready to go through the barrier between platforms nine and ten. He had asked England if it would let him through, which England said it would, for he was technically magic (ever since he had joined Arthur, he had been taught magic. Anyway, countries have their own sort of inherent magic). One thing he couldn't seem to shake, however, was the annoyance that t was called platform 9 3/4 when it was halfway between the barriers. Not 3/4 of the way, as could be expected, but half. Why didn't they name it platform 9 1/2? He remembered his recent trip to Diagon Alley as well- why did they even call it that? It ran straight through a secret section of London, not diagonally. 
Most of his trip to the magical mall (as Alfred called it) had been uneventful. He had helped some guy at the magical
Menagerie herd escaped rats, and found a little girl's lost cat, but that was about it. England had given him all the money he'd needed, so there was no need to visit Gringott's. The gathering of the books passed with little to no incident, although he heard something about "quittich" and "dark marks". Ignoring this, Canada suddenly froze. 
"Arthur," he said to England (they were using their human names in public), "I'm being put in as a transfer to fourth year. Do I still have to go through the sorting ceremony?" 
Arthur sighed, and told him that he'd be sorted before semester began. 
Snapping out of his flashback, Canada smiled. He had been sorted into Hufflepuff, as he had rather expected. But upon asking England about the dark marks, he had elicited no response save a frown. He could tell England was worried. It was written in his expression. The only thing he had been told was "Keep Harry safe. You know who he is- the kid with messy hair and the lightening bolt scar. Hangs out with a ginger and the smartest witch in the school. You can't miss him." 
Remembering this, 
Canada took a deep breath before running through the barrier.