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Who are you ?

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1st September, Not the original year because I wasn't even born... King's Cross 


England, or more precisely, Rose Victoria Arthur Taylor Kirkland, was tired. No, actually, she was exhausted. Sprawled out on her seat she tried to remember what her brother wanted to say. What does he mean by "a surprise"? She was sure he was up to something. 

"Whatever, I'm sure it can't be worse than all the stress from the scandal of the Quidditch World Cup..." she thought bitterly.

The event was waited by so many people. A lot of wizards and witches assisted to the Final. To think someone would dare to attack the magical community at a moment like this. Rose was upset. The incident caused a lot of casualties and an international crisis. She, her people, endangered the safety of at least a million persons. The nation knew that her relationships with other countries were bad, but this incident would just worsen them! Even if they didn't believe in magic, are muggles and don't really know they have a magical community, it was a hundred percent sure that they will be informed of the incident. A terrorist attack this big couldn't go unnoticed. The former groaned, she really didn't want troubles. Her boss already gave her tons of paperwork to make up the Quidditch Cup and her job as a teacher will restart soon. By soon, she means really soon. 

"At least, it's Scott and Connor who are going to explain this to the other countries. I'm not England anymore. Well, in their eyes of course. I'm sure the charm didn't go off, I would've noticed.."

With these satisfying thoughts, she dozed off, smirking slightly. But deep down in the back of her head, she was still worried about the "surprise" of Scotland.




The ride to Hogwarts was pretty peaceful. Nobody tried to wake her up and this year, Dementors were prohibited to approach the school. Yawning, she got up and saw that the train wasn't diving anymore. She also remarked that the lights went off. What was supposed to mean? England looked around her before taking her baggage herself. They.. they didn't forget to wake her up, did they? Infuriated by the way she was treated, she cursed every person who was on the train before breaking a window (the door was locked and even if it wasn't, she would still do that) with her foot. She was the bloody United Kingdom for fuck's sake!

Ignoring the fact that her legs were bleeding, her face was disfigured by the dark bags under her eyes, her hair was a whole lot messier than usual and her expression was darker than the bottom of the sea. With difficulty, she dragged her valises for the year without her magic, stubbornly making her way to the castle. She will not waste her precious magic for something this trivial! The rain didn't help with her mood. A sleep-deprived Rose was worse than a drunk one. Giving up at going to Hogwarts with her own two feet and soaked from head to toe, she sighed before teleporting ( transplaner in French, if someone knows the translation, please let me know) herself inside the school.

And of course, she forgot that the castle was protected by all kinds of charms and spells. She groaned in pain when her face met the protective barrier. The small country screamed internally before grinning madly at the protection. They have some guts to refuse the presence of the all-mighty British Empire. Laughing darkly, she let go of her bags and took out her wand before whispering :

"Let's see how long you will last, shall we ?"




The students were still stunned by the presentation of their new professor of DADA. But three of them were particularly distraught by the only seat which wasn't occupied. The seat was owned by the scariest and most breathtaking teacher of Hogwarts. Rose Smith. The Golden Trio wasn't really paying attention to the speech of Dumbledore, and the three of them looked everywhere, researching the muggle-like girl. They chatted a bit about the absence of the woman, and it happened. Something or someone was banging mercilessly on the door. That caused everyone to stop their conversations to look at the door. All the teachers, except Dumbledore, took their wands out before pointing them at the door. 

Bang. Bang. BANG.

A few moments later, the gate broke down. Stupefied, the teachers gaped like fishes at what was left of the door. All the students, with no exception, recognized the familiar silhouette and exclaimed with stupor :

"Miss Smith !"

"That's "Professor" for you, punks !" she shouted back, shooting daggers at who dared to watch her.

Everyone thought that nobody could make an entrance more dramatic than Professor Moody's, apparently, they were wrong. She spat at the remains of the door before smiling sadistically at them. With a sinister expression and a honey-coated tone, she yelled :

"That's what you get when you mess with me. You insolent gate ! HAHAHAHA !"

The pupils looked at her with disbelief. Was she talking to the door or to them ? In both cases, she was frightening ! Silence remained in the hall, except for the terrifying laughter of the former pirate. Taking a look at her, Harry, even if he was far away, could tell she was shivering. By her madness or by the cold, he didn't know. Blood was dripping down her legs and her pants were torn at some places, she was skinnier and paler than last year but her threatening and challenging green eyes were still the same even if they were far more tired. The Boy-Who-Lived looked once again at his two best friends, who also had the same puzzled expression as him. Finally, someone spoke up :

"Ms. Rose ! This is a pleasure to you again !" said the Headmaster happily, looking right in the toxic green eyes of the furious country. The said country, replicated his action and glared at him defiantly before returning to her normal gentlemanly (gentlewomanly ?) attitude, smiling coldly but politely.

"Headmaster. The pleasure is mine." she calmly said back, bowing at the man before him, remembering the manners her Japanese friend taught her. "I apologize for the scene I caused. Please continue your speech."

"Ms. Rose. Could we have some explications for your delay ?" said McGonagall with her icy gaze. "You're setting a bad example for the students." she then explained.

Some murmurs broke in the silent hall. The whole school knew the Gryffindor's House hated the latecomers. However, they also knew she had a sweet spot for the seemingly-young girl despite her having various Slytherin traits.

"Look, Minerva, I really hate being late. I mean, it isn't gentlemanly and all, I'm not a bloody American ! But, well, I was locked in the fucking train! No one woke me up ! Naps are allowed, so why not looking in each fucking room if someone slept through the journey. So yes, I'm late, I'm late because someone fails at their freaking job ! It's not so damn complicated to wake someone up ! In contrary to all of you, you spoiled brats, I don't have holidays ! I worked all the summer just because bloody prats couldn't do their shit. Then, there's this git, oh dear, he's the biggest git I've met my entire life ! When does "poisoning my tea with French wine" sounds like a good idea ?! I'm knackered, losing my mind, and sleep-deprived. So please, I beg you. For the love of the British Empire, let me alone." she rambled effortlessly. She was tired, it was obvious. 

Surprisingly, McGonagall let it slide and invited the small nation to join them. England sat next to Madam Pomfrey, letting her treating her wounds. Rose may be a nation, the time of healing was the same amount as a normal human, except for mortal hits or serious injuries. The nurse gasped as she began to treat the bloodied legs of the girl. 

"Good God, how did you make those ?" she asked, seemingly worried. Sensing the concern of her colleague, she shrugs before deturning her eyes. 

"I... uh, jumped... through the window. Breaking it. I'm sorry about that, I was... angry and I lost my cool." the country apologized, uncomfortable with the nurse looking at her previous scars. She was ashamed of herself, self-consciousness filling up her mind. Some scars haven't faded yet, and they were disgusting. And so not gentlemanly. Many countries considered them as trophies, proofs of their surviving... but she didn't think so, not anymore. Rose remembers clearly his exact words, it's not like she could one day forget them. Repugnant. That was the adjective he used to describe her. Her, with her abominable cooking, her awful personality, her bad temper... and many other displeasing things about her. She knows that all of this was in the past, but these hurtful words still pained her. And at the bottom of her heart, she hoped hers didn't hurt the other one as deeply. 

"It's not like I care about him. He's a bastard and that's it... he just said this to get on your nerves !" she thought to herself, hoping that the hurt in her heart wasn't written on her face.

Despite thinking this, she still has flashbacks of this day. The day they stopped to talk to each other without being at each other's throat, without him making a nasty remark about her feminity... without her criticizing his idiotic smile, his handsome face, his... Armada, his Romano, his... everything. She smiled bitterly but cleared up her mind quickly after. 

"I'm sure he is one of the people on whose the spell worked the much... he despises me so much. I'm sure he is happy now that I am out of his life. Even if he doesn't remember me... I will be fine. But what will happen when the charm broke ? I guess I can live my life as a nation like this for some time. Even if I miss some of these idiots. Canada, Portugal... even France, damn it ! I hope they're all ok.  W-Well, it's not like I care about them or whatsoever. Though... it would be good to see them again."

"Rose ! Are you even listening to me ? Don't be this reckless !" babbled the caring nurse. "We care about you... we wouldn't like our new professor to go to St-Mungos Hospital for one stupid mistake. Geez, you lost a bit more blood than I thought !"

Rose snapped from her invading and homesick musings and turned to the kind woman with a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Poppy."

"She should smile more. This poor child." thought the nurse.

After being carefully treated, Rose listened closely to the Headmaster's speech. What was he talking about ?

"As I was saying, this year, we will host the legendary Triwizard Tournament !


What ?! The stupid tournament in which champions die, schools fight against each other, and everyone is sad ? This tournament ?! 

Rose Victoria Arthur Taylor Kirkland, the Country of England, the bloody United Kingdom of Great Britain and Nothern Ireland, will not stand this. 


Chapter Text

Groups of students started to chat among themselves. Exclamations, whispers, and noises of excitation echoed through the room. England was petrified. She remembers well enough the first time she took part in this tournament.  Champions were, between themselves, merciless and bloodthirsty. Each one would step down another without remorse. All of this competition for gold and glory. She shook her head disapprovingly, they didn't know what it was like. This tournament was one of the reasons some countries were afraid of her. But she knows that she couldn't have her word, she was still a "new" teacher and one-year experienced teachers don't have their words in the events of the sort. That was one of the strange policies of the school. Plus, the school was in Scotland. So, her brother was certainly aware of this. And she trusted Allistair more than herself on this. Glaring with disappointment the ruddy crowd, she prayed internally that nothing bad would happen during this old tradition of theirs. Hopefully, nobody would die. 




England was bored. She didn't have any classes to teach and none of her brothers could talk to her right now. Wales and Ireland were in a meeting, Northern Ireland was stalking them and Scotland... was being Scotland. The true reason for her not wanting to call her brothers was the sentiment she would get after. Homesickness, embarrassment, and other petty feelings. She didn't want them to find her annoying or worse, clingy. As she strolled down the corridors, she stopped by a classroom to take a peek. Watching through the circular window on the door, she noticed Harry Potter and his friends. She smiled. But that smile quickly disappeared when she saw what the professor was teaching them. the Imperium Curse. What an awful spell. She knew a lot about dark magic and sortileges even worse than the Killing Curse, and she was grateful that contemporary wizards forgot about them. Like the charm, she used on her friends before leaving for Hogwarts. That sort of charms is called: Contract Curses. They're dangerous for both the victim and the user. But well, that isn't important right now.

Alastor lifted his wand a second time. Rose's eyes widened as soon as she saw the next spell. The Cruciatus Curse, also known as the Torture Curse. And this one was a pretty fitting name. Having been through its torture a lot of times, the country never cast this spell on anyone. Not even once. She grimaced slightly as she watched the poor spider being tortured. Watching this made her sweat and remember some memories she would like to erase. As she reached for the handle, the Mad Professor began to play with the poor little thing in front of the terrified Neville. The guy seemed so broken, it was heartbroken. When Rose was about to intervene, Hermione screamed painfully :

"Stop it !" 

Hearing this made the former pirate kind of proud. Leaving the handle of the classroom's door, she turned around to go away, hoping secretly that someone will keep an eye at the new teacher. There was something fishy about him. As she walked, she heard something, no, someone, yelling at her. 

"Ms. Smith! You watched the show all along, why not assist to the final ? Come back, you will serve as an example for the children." That was probably Mad Eye's voice. So he knew she was here. England smirked, thinking: "As expected from a former British Auror."

Making her way back, she threw her arms at the back of her neck wearing a calm and cold expression, her smirk still visible. She saluted her colleague before he took her by the arm violently. "That"s not a way to treat a Lady. Even Scotland doesn't treat me like a fucking dog. Well, if you're Spanish, I would understand..." she provoked, in her head.

"Wow, didn't know you were that excited to work with me... geez," Rose spoke, more to herself than to anyone else.

The class looked at her in chock. She was there? Since when? Glaring back to the students, she became more precisely aware of the state of Neville. His face was ashen, his eyes wide, and his body sweating lots and lots. Suddenly, she felt her body going cold as she heard the word "Impero" whispered. She reached for her wand, but it was too late. The spell already hit her hard. She dropped her weapon in disbelief. The class was even more scandalized by the strange behavior of their new teacher. She gasped in pain, feeling the air exiting her lungs. 

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE! That's what happens to snarky spy like you," he yelled, and Rose was sure, everyone in the school had heard him.

As he was telling his class that everyone would have to go through the spell the next day, a collective shiver traveled across the children. 

"That's not good. If they see that I didn't succeed to fight off the curse..."

The small country felt numb. She knew that the command wouldn't tard to come. She took small breaths, ready to repel the intrusion.

"Bow" the strident voice screamed inside her head.


"C' me on! Bow!"


"BOW! Now !"

The knees of the former pirate buckled, the pain was spreading inside her body. She gulped down her fear and yelled in the back of her mind :

"If you think, a simple human like you would make the all-mighty United Kingdom bow to your feet then you're so fucking wrong ! You bloody idiot !"

Without any hesitation, she broke down the spell and reached for her gun. She gave a kick in the nose of the old man with the heels of her boot. Taking the wand away of her assailant at the same time, she then looked down at the new teacher with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"You fucking git! Did you really think someone like YOU would make me bow! Don't you even dare approach me from now on. And if you try again to make me submit, I will come to look for you and finish your life. I'm not going to make this incident public, but I swear if you hurt one of MY students, you and Dumbledore will end up as beat up as the bloody door (A/N: Dumbledoor)! You tosser! One more move and I shoot your head." 

The pupils were looking at their teacher holding a gun in front of their new professor. The Muggleborns have hidden under their desks in fear. Harry did the same thing and Ron just looked at his friends like they had gone mad. 

"Why are you hiding for? Dad showed me one of these when I was a kid! They aren't dangerous." murmured the ginger boy.

"SHUT UP Ronald! That's a Muggle weapon. It's as deadly as the Killing Curse if used correctly." whispered/screamed the bushy-haired girl.

"Oh Blimey."

As the nation finished her rant, she was breathless. Her eyes were screaming bloody murder and some tears made their way to them. Tears of rage, disappointment, and contempt. She lowed her pistolet and turned away from the new professor. She stopped herself before exiting the room, turned around and glared at Neville hardly. 

"Hey, you, come with me," she said with an icy, but caring tone.

Neville broke out of his line of thinking, looking curiously at his History teacher. The latter lifted one of her thick eyebrows, waiting for the traumatized young man to move his ass. She was slowly getting impatient and glared harder than before. The little guy was getting scared, was he in trouble? He got up, taking his sweet time, and followed the woman shaking uncontrollably, fearing for his life and his honor. She sighed before smiling gently to reassure the boy. After the two got out of the room, the lesson continued as nothing happened.




Neville was seated at a table in the private quarters of his teacher who was occupied with the tea. Waiting for the teacher to come back, he gazed around. Oddly, the interior decoration wasn't what he expected. There were a lot of pictures, books from all around the world, medicines, and a bouquet of roses. It fitted perfectly the first impression of Neville about his professor. Someone calm, well-mannered, sensible and gentle. Someone totally different from the actual personality of Rose. She was savage, rude sometimes, cold, harsh and terribly scary. And well, the clumsy boy didn't have great relationships with fearsome people. His grandmother, Professor Snape, Harry sometimes, Slytherins... and Ms. Rose. They didn't really talk to each other outside the classes, but he often saw her talking with Dean Thomas about football, following discreetly the Golden Trio and some of the other teachers... He once saw her laughing at nothing but thin air and brilliant shining twinkles! Saying that Neville was nervous was an underestimation. He was petrified.

Finally, the woman came back with two cups and a burning tea-pot. One of the cups was filled with hot chocolate. She sat on the seat in front of her student and gave him the childish beverage.  He thanked her and sipped a bit. It was warm and refreshing at the same time. It cleared his mind and the sweetness overflowed his senses. He was definitely more relaxed than before. After a comfortable silence, the older one spoke up :

"I hope you like it, my brothers used to prepare this for me when I was feeling down... it always worked for me so I thought! B-But you're not- I mean, that's, I... I'm not really good at cheering up children, so..."

"Thank you, it's really delicious, Ms. Smith."

A bit surprised by the answer, Rose stayed silent for a few seconds. Not a lot of people praised her. She smiled awkwardly.

"I'm sure that if she smiles more often, she wouldn't be this scary..." Neville thought absentmindedly. Pushed by his curiosity, the shy boy fought his timidity and asked her: "You have brothers, Ms. Smith ?"

The eyes of his professor widened dramatically. Neville, out of everyone, asked her about her private life. She would have never guessed. Even the braver Gryffindors didn't dare to talk to her about something unrelated to Hogwarts. The said timid guy chickened out as soon as he saw the reaction of his professor.

"Longbottom? Right? Haha... You're more courageous than I originally thought."

"Y-Yes Sir! I mean, no, sir. I mean, no, miss!"

"I didn't believe Remus at first, but, yes. You truly are a Gryffindor. Too bad I'm a Slytherin, (you) must hate me because of that. Too bad..." her smile was replaced by a dissatisfied frown. Stereotypes were getting out of hand nowadays.

"I-I don't hate you? You're really scary though."

"You really are surprising, Longbottom... Well, since you are the first student to have the guts to question my private family, I'm going to make an exception." she said, smirking dangerously, "Well, yes, I've got a lot of siblings. There are Allistair, Connor, David, and James. We argue a lot, but I guess all siblings do. However, I can't see them anymore." she finished, her smirk turning into a melancholic smile.


"Really curious, aren't you ?" she teased. "Well, something bad happened in my former job. That's the best explication I have. Enough of me, let's talk about you now. You really are special, you know?"

"N-Not as much as Harry or..."

"You kinda make me think of my past self. My parents died early in my life."

"Oh. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Don't worry. That's okay. I mean, I'm still alive, aren't I? But, I, too, have to apologize for your loss. Your parents would be pretty famous if Potter's parents weren't in the spotlight. They are heroes and... I would never want them to be forgotten, as well as James and Lily. All of them were good people. England would never forget their sacrifice." she muttered darkly. Neville strangely knew that she was telling the truth and not just something to cheer him up.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk like this. I'm sure there is a small chance-" she quickly added, trying to not sound too indiscreet.

"..Miss Rose? Can I ask you something?" requested the Gryffindor bashfully.

"You already did but, yes, go ahead, lad."

"Can... Can we meet up again? Outside the class, I mean."

"...It would be a pleasure," she said with her cheeks tinted in pink and a small smile on her face.

The bell rang through the halls and the two of them look at each other curiously. So different but also so similar. The woman ruffled the boy's hair, grinning brightly. And Neville suddenly thought :

"Maybe Miss Smith isn't that bad and so different than my first impression of her. Maybe she would be an exception. Who am I kidding, she always seems to be an exception..."




After their talk, Rose told him to simply call her Ms. Rose because Ms. Smith sounded too formal. The boy nodded before he hurried off to his next class. In his way, he met Hermione and her friends. 

"Are you okay Neville? Did she do anything to you? I heard she was a Slytherin when she was a student." said Ron, surprisingly worried.

"I'm okay," he assured his fellow Gryffindors. "Miss Rose is actually pretty nice."

Everything was going smoothly until someone interrupted them. Alastor Moody, also known as Mad-Eye. With his gruff voice, he caught up the small band of teenagers, interrupting the conversation.

"Longbottom. Come to my office, let's have some tea. Don't worry, son."

The shy boy shook but then remembered what Rose told him before parting.

"You're much braver than you think you are, Neville. Don't forget that!"

With renewed courage, he nodded to the scary man, with tremblings hands but determined eyes.




The meeting with the professor wasn't that displeasing. He was still terrified by the man but not enough to make him flee. The new teacher handed him a couple of interesting books and excused himself for his actions during the lesson. As he was about to exit the room, Moody called him back.

"One more thing, son. Don't rely on Miss Rose too much, there's something wrong with her. Trust me, son. Someone like her shouldn't be near you all."

Neville couldn't believe his ears. So, without a word said he made his way to the door, getting out of the office but not without hearing :

"Trust me on this, son."

The poor guy was conflicted. On one side, there was Miss Rose. Someone who sounds harsh and merciless but who's actually an honest and kind person. Someone a bit like him but not totally. Someone worth of his trust but who comes out of nowhere. But, on the other hand, there was Alastor Moody. A former Auror, someone faithful by profession. Someone paranoid. But also careful, wise and knowledgeable 

His new friend, or his "protector"?

"Too bad I'm a Slytherin, (you) must hate me because of that."

Neville concluded to trust Moody and to be cautious around Miss Rose. But, that doesn't mean he would stop to talk to her. After all, she wasn't that bad, for a Slytherin.



Chapter Text

Durmstrang and Beauxbâtons were coming today. Beaubâtons... a bloody French school. This will definitely not help her with the homesickness. Not that she actually misses Francis or anything. Blushing furiously of embarrassment and anger, she stepped into her room, snapping her door, nearly breaking it. Plopping down on her bed, she left her long robe for more casual clothes. Beaubâtons wasn't Francis, so they wouldn't judge her by her clothes, right? Right. She undid her twin-tails and look at her reflection on the mirror, remembering the words they said. It wasn't fair. Insulting a lady on her looks. More particularly on her small chest and thick eyebrows. Huffing indignantly, she turned away the mirror and picked up some muggle garments. An oversized sweater, a white shirt, a red tie, and black slim jeans would largely do the work. She chose to let her hair down, her skull was hurting after wearing high pony-tails all the time. Putting a trenchcoat and glasses she would wear just to look smart on, she exited her room, deciding to enjoy the rest of her free time.

She was strangely excited to meet the Durmstrang students. Maybe she will be able to meet her friend, Lukas, again. It would be really pleasing even if he wouldn't know where he had already seen her. Rose chuckled a bit, imagining the face he would do. Yeah, she really does miss her friends. Well, old friends. They wouldn't forgive her for all that she has done. Making a Contract Cruse without their consent, and lying to the world, literally, just to try to stop an inevitable war to broke on her island. That was selfish. She knew. But she just couldn't help it. The Last Magical War was devastating. Chasing these angsty thoughts, she tried to cheer herself up.

"It's not like I will miss them! And... it isn't like they will miss me. I'm a pretty shitty friend after all..."

Now, she was depressed. Great. 

"Miss Rose!" a voice suddenly yelled.

England looked up and saw a grinning Neville. She smiled a bit, seeing someone so eager and restless made her think of a certain American. But, in a second thought, Neville was more like Matthew than like Alfred. In any case, that was probably one of the reasons she bonded so easily with the shy Gryffindor.

"Are you heading to the Great Hall?"

"No... Actually, yeah."

"Can we talk along the way?"

"Sure. But why aren't you with your house?"

"I wanted to talk to you. I aced my test on Herbology!"

The boy was proud, but it was obvious that he didn't have many friends to brag to. Rose was like him when she was a child. Always pestering her big brother to be acknowledged. She laughed affectionately and ruffled his hair like she always does with Sealand. With a bright smile, she praised the teenager :

"Good job! I'm sure your grandmother will be proud of you."

"I don't think so. I failed to fight back the Impero Curse and..." told Neville sadly.

"The Imperius Curse? What the bloody heck? That's fucking forbidden! I'm going to talk to Dumbledore, RIGHT NOW."

"Miss Rose, please keep calm... Dumbledore already gave his permission to Professor-"

"This wanker, using this charm on CHILDREN. I do agree that you all have to be vigilant, especially nowadays, but... The Imperius Curse, seriously! What comes next? The Cruciatus Curse! O-oh... I'm sorry Neville, I shouldn't have brought this up..." she added as she saw the hurt expression of her student. 

"That's okay, Miss Rose." assured the Gryffindor.

The former pirate mentally cursed herself. The Cruciatus Curse was still a taboo for the poor boy. It has been two minutes and she already messed up. Good job, England! I thought you were good with children.

Suddenly, a scream broke her from invading thoughts. Neville and Rose looked up, where the sound came from and both of their eyes widened. In the sky, a huge dragon was roaming around them. The mask of Rose Smith slipped from her face, letting place to the cold and bloodthirsty pirate Kirkland of the Seven Seas. But, before doing anything :

"Neville, go warn the Headmaster and stay in the castle."

"And you, professor?"

"Don't worry. I will manage this, well, I will try."

With that, she ran away, despite the protests of his student and the cries he made. It's just a dragon, it's not like anything is gonna happen to her, right? 




"Connor? Didn't you bring your dragon with you?"

"Ah, yes. She escaped last night. But, it will be fine as long as I hold this spell." the country, Wales, said.

"Didn't you lost your wand one year ago?"

" Ah, yes, you're right. Then... oh shit. Let's just pray that none of the schools arrived yet."




Common Welsh Green. This kind of dragon wasn't exactly the most dangerous of the lot but, damn. This one is agitated and has something against her. Just like her older brother, Wales. And, according to the collar of the dragon, he was the owner of this monstrous beast. Another reason for her to hate her brothers. She truly hoped it was an accident and not one of their stupid pranks. Stupid pranks. Stupid brothers. Stupid dragon. And stupid her for wearing jeans. 

With some difficulty, she managed to climb on the dragon. If she remembered well, Wales used to sing lullabies to calm his pets, she prayed that it would work. Taking long gulps of air, she began to sing. But the dragon was too fuking enraged to listen to her! It tried to make her fall. England grabbed roughly one of the scales of the creature. That definitely didn't make her happy. The animal roared in pain and flew desperately away from the castle, making loops. Rose holds, now, into the animal with only one hand. She always liked the sea better than the air. And she always liked boats better than brooms. It was maybe why she didn't waste her money on a fucking broom.

The dragon, frustrated by its opponent, began to spite fire everywhere, totally out of control. It accelerated drastically, forcing Rose to clutch at the scales like she was holding her life. After struggling to get her wand, she managed to cast a spell at the beast. It wouldn't kill it, of course, Wales would kill her. But it would make it stop spitting fire and trying to get rid of her. 

"Stupefy! You bloody nutter!"

It takes a lot of experience and magic to stupefy a magical creature, especially when the one in question was a fucking dragon. It was nearly impossible. Except that she was England! The number one in magic, with Romania and Norway. When she realized that the spell worked, she began to laugh maniacally.

"HAHAHA, take that! You airy-fairy! No offenses, Ladies!"

Although, her euphory finished as soon as sit began. She was going down at full speed. The dragon was big enough to not be that injured, but her. Small as she is, it's going to hurt. Lightly disconcerted, she let go of her wand. As soon as she saw her wand falling before her, she began to panic. She wasn't going to die, obviously, but, well... it's going to hurt a lot and her identity will be a lot more suspicious. During the fall, the corpse of the dragon detached itself from the nation. England took a long breath and closed her eyes, screaming along.

Everything stopped.

Was she dead?

No, it's impossible.

Despite the fact that she fell from a long distance, she should be alive and breathing. Confused, she opened her eyes. Not to see a white screen but a handsome young face. Older than Neville but definitely younger than America. Lost in her thoughts, she was unable to speak. The two were in pure silence until :

"Are you an angel? Because I think you fell from Heaven."


She was tempted to say yes but... well... her identity must be secret. Instead, she said :

"No.. Not at all. M-My name is... I mean, you must be a Durmstrang Institute's student. Uhm... I think I already saw you somewhere."


"Well, thank you for saving me but I'm sure that even if you hadn't intervened, I would have survived. I'm not a damsel in distress."

"You are one, in a way" he replied back, his brows furrowed and his voice a tad bit annoyed.

"Yeah. You're right. Thanks, lad."

No, she wasn't salty because some random brat saved her. She pouted cutely as they reached the land. The teenager was standing tall and proud, he was probably taller than her. Not that she would admit it. 

A lot of people looked at her like she was crazy. Notably, people from Durmstrang (that was a first!) and Beauxbâtons. What? She just fought a dragon. However, they weren't the only ones. The teachers were in admiration, even Dumbledore, and worry, and the Hogwarts' students were clapping for her (or her savior, but she preferred to think it was for her). And lastly, another group of people was present. Among them was...


It didn't matter why he was here, or even if it was truly an accident.

But the bloody twit was dying of laughter.

She couldn't take it anymore.

"Accio, wand!" she yelled.

Her wand came directly to her hand. 

"You sodding git. I swear, one day I'm going to kill you, you tosser. Maybe a Cruciatus Curse will calm you down, Connor!" she screamed her lungs out. "What the bloody hell was it doing here?! Answer me, you wanker! Stop laughing and accept your fucking destiny. I don't damn care that you let it out by accident! You should know better than to lost your stupid wand! Couldn't you just "Accio" it?! No! Because you're stupid as fuck! Prepare yourself to die!" she continued as she walked over her laughing brother.

Yet, something was preventing her from murdering another nation. Someone was locking her in a bear hug. She turned her head to curse at the stupid git who wouldn't let her kill her brother. 


"Bunny. Calm down. Did you have your tea, you need to relax."

"As soon as I punch you two out, I will be a whole lot more relaxed," she told him, clearly annoyed. "Now, let me go, stupid drunkard."

"Aren't you the one who..."

"Piss off!"

"Al, stop overbearing her..." said David.

"Thank you, David."

"I want to hug her too!"

"You traitor, just you wait! Oi oi oi! What are you doing, you arsehole!?




The happy family gathering was suddenly cut short when Dumbledore cleared up his throat.




After everything was cleared up, England looked a bit more around her. And then she saw them. The rest of the group of her dear brothers. What the fuck are they doing here? 

She rubbed her eyes once.

Still there.


Still there.


They were still there but one of them disappeared. The French one!

Rose abruptly turned around, only to be welcomed by a seductive smile and a mysterious wink. Her face showed a melange of happiness and disgust. Stupid Frog.

"Why do you rub your eyes for, ma chérie (: my dear), you can't believe someone as beautiful as me can exist?"

"Eurk," she thought. "After about a year, the first thing he tells me is.. what? No, I can't believe it. It's too much."

She smiled politely before slapping him. She knows that France wouldn't fight with a girl that wasn't her. Stupid macho. Or gentleman? She still didn't know. Being forgotten has some perks. She smirked evilly as she saw the pitiable face that her rival was making. However, she couldn't help but be worried. Did some of them found out?

Impossible, it's a Contract Curse.


She gazed at them more closely.

France, Prussia, Japan, America, Germany, Norway (that wasn't that surprising), Russia, China, Whatever his name, North Italy, South Italy, 


There was another nation with them. England was happy to see him in good health and as cheerful as always. He is one of the closest nations of her. 



And also one of the most susceptible to find out if it's not already done.

She wasn't supposed to know their secret identities, she was supposed to be a normal human. As "normal" as a wizard can be.

For the time being, she had the advantage.

However, one mistake can blow her secret. But that wouldn't happen. She wasn't stupid enough to call them by their nation's names. 

Francis, Gilbert, Kiku, Alfred, Ludwig, Lukas, Ivan, Yao, Matthew, Feliciano, Lovino, Antonio, and Pedro for short.

That was going to be a nerve-wracking year...

Now, she preferred that the dragon was the "surprise".










Chapter Text

The banquet was, as always, grandiose. However, Rose couldn't help but glare bitterly at the guests, a cold and icy stare glued to them, not able to enjoy the feast. Why are they doing here? Since she skipped the first part of the Headmaster's speech, she was allowed to ask some questions to the person next to her.

"Do you know who they are?"

As soon as she saw the conflicted expression of her fellow professor, she knew she wasn't the only one to question their presence. That means that it was Dumbledore's decision and everyone else went with the flow. Rose sighed, did they really have to be here, now? Last year, she tried, by all means, to be trusted by her co-workers and built a solid background. They weren't supposed to destroy all of her efforts! They might not recognize her, but they're still threats, for both her identity and her sanity.

Well, she was just a History teacher, and a recent one at that, she wasn't that important in the hierarchy of the school. They wouldn't even talk to her. She was, just, a human. A poor, insignificant, little English girl. Still, that was such a pain in the ass. And, just looking at the face of this damned Spaniard was making her upset. 

How dare he?

She turned her gaze away, recomposing herself and keeping a straight and serious face. She needed to be attentive and to pay no attention to the ruckus that was caused by the countries. 

"One. One little mistake and all of this will be wasted." the small nation remembered herself. "You can't let them know."

Taking long gulps of air, the former pirate decided it was best for her to excuse herself, calm down a little and THEN return to the banquet. She slowly got up, taking her time to explain thoroughly to Minerva that she wasn't going to flee, and just wanted to take a small walk. Seeing the anxious expression the Deputy Headmistress was making, she assured her colleague that it wouldn't take more than five minutes. The older looking teacher sighed and reluctantly let her go. Rose smiled gratefully and thanked her before exiting hurriedly the stuffy room, filled with annoying people and long, boring explications. 




"Did you really think it would work?" asked a pained voice.

The sound echoed through the empty halls. The former pirate already knew that one of them, at least, found out about her little trick. Though, that didn't mean she would expect them to confront her about it right away. Rose easily recognized the voice's owner. A light accent, barely perceptible. The man could, with no difficulty, making himself pass for an English man. She didn't even turn away, but she did jump a bit. Stopping in her tracks, she patiently waited for the man to speak again.


She didn't hear this name for a whole year. That was weird. A long-time ago, everyone called her like that, but now, it just felt so formal. Upon hearing her name, she, this time, turned to face her interlocutor.

Her friend. Her BEST friend.


Rose knew that putting a spell on her best friend was a very bad idea. On the other hand, she knew that she wouldn't be serene enough if she didn't do that. Looking bashfully away from the green eyes, oh so familiar of Spain's, of Portugal, she kept her mouth closed. She couldn't trust herself to talk without crying or losing her facade. Casting a spell on a Muggle was a wrong thing to do. But casting a spell on her best friend, who's also a muggle AND a country, was not her brightest idea. 

Who was she kidding?

"Rose, please, look at me."

"Do they know?" she asked, her voice shaking, still looking away.

"Look at me, please." he reached out.

"Portugal. Do they know?"

"... No."

"... Good."


"Why what?" she replied snappily, annoyed by his friend beating around the bush.

"You could trust me, you know. You aren't alone anymore."

"You... Listen, I'm tired of hearing that I'm a crazy bitch. Don't take any offenses, you're my best friend and I trust you a lot. But, I just couldn't... I couldn't... I can't put you in the middle of a problem I could have solved ages ago! Dozens, no, hundreds of people could have lived if I didn't show vulnerability! Neville's parents would remember their son and live a happy, peaceful life with him. Harry, fudging, Potter, would still have his family and not the whole bloody wizarding world on his shoulders. I... I mean, so many of my people suffered because of the Wizarding Wars, my brothers too! The whole fucking world! But, none of the countries moved their asses. Because magic doesn't exist. If they didn't believe it, they couldn't believe me. I know you aren't them, I know! B-But...!" 

England wasn't naive. She had already been betrayed, abandoned, destroyed, and heartbroken. She didn't need it anymore. She didn't want to feel this bitter pain again. She was just sick of it. Sniffing noisily, she rubbed her eyes and looked down like a scolded child. She was ashamed of her current state. She was feeling childish, selfish, worthless and dirty. Rose knew that some, not many, but some people truly cared for her and Portugal was one of them. It was like she was backstabbing him. Betraying him. Fooling him. Insulting their friendship. At this moment, she wasn't feeling great. She was just... tired.

Tired of arguing.

Tired of proving something.

Tired of hiding.

Tired of...

Stressing out so much permitted her to realize how wrong she was in the past. Ignoring all of this :

Blood. Tears. Sweat. Cries. Screams. Terror. Agony. Break. Crack. Hurt. Torture. Betrayal. Pain. Fear.

Her people were feeling this and she didn't even try to help them. She wasn't going to do this mistake a second time. She wasn't going to let another war tear her and her brothers' people down.

No. No. No. No. 

Not again.

She remembers everything. The blood gushing out of her pale face. Her craving desires to empty out all the contents of her stomach. The sickening feeling to be submitted to her, the United Kingdom and Europe's number one enemy. The disgusted, worried, mocking faces around her. 

Her memories wouldn't let her alone.


Suddenly as she felt two strong arms surrounding her in a tight embrace, protecting her from undesirable thoughts. Her eyes widened, tears finally leaking from them, she stared with surprise at the young man who was hugging her, who was calming her down, who was helping her. She inhaled his sweet and refreshing scent before letting her breath go with a broken sob. In her mind, she couldn't stop apologizing. To him. To the others. To her family. To her people.

"It's okay. So, let me support you."

And to herself.

She clenched her teeth and returned the gesture timidly, encircling him with her shaking arms. England closed her eyes for a moment. 

For a moment, she could be weak.

She smiled gently, yeah, it wouldn't hurt to be weak for a second.

It wouldn't hurt to breathe.




Grinning proudly, she began to brag about all the things she did last year while Portugal was just looking at her, amused and chuckling softly under his breath. She was so similar to a child sometimes. A small kid, trying to catch your attention, waiting to be praised and exaggerating some details. Remembering well the curious, twinkling, innocent, fiery and green eyes of a way younger England, Pedro concluded that, no matter what the others said, Rose didn't change much.

She was, since forever, a tough fighter, an ardent flame, something you couldn't bring down. Something you couldn't stop.

Such a shame that she brought herself down. 

But he knew, deep down in his heart, that England wasn't going to go down without a good fight. Everything would be alright, after all, he was there, wasn't he? 

"Are you listening, Pedro?"

"Yes, Rosa."

"No, you weren't! You liar. Stop laughing and tell me what's so funny about me being stupefied by children?!"


"Huh?!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"Don't change anything, Rosa."


"My stupid neighbor has no say in this."

"Huh? Sod off, wanker! Why are you bringing Spain in this?!"

"For nothing. He just doesn't see how much he's lucky."

"Did you fall in love with me during summer or what?"

"No, absolutely not."

"Good. I'm not wasting you away for some stupid romance."

"As lovely as you are, my dear, you clearly aren't my type."


The two looked at each other before bursting out in laughter. 




As the pair made their way back to the Great Hall, they didn't notice a certain albino spying on them.

"Kesesesesese, Pedro's got a girl! Should've told me! I can't wait to tell the guys about this."













Chapter Text

Prussia ran down the halls in the opposite way of Rose and Pedro's. He just couldn't wait to see the expression of France when he will learn that his next target was already taken. Even though, Pedro and the mysterious girl were TOO friendly with each other. It was a bit weird, but they were cute together.

Tan skin with a small mole under one on his eye, Portugal always seemed to be cheerful, and somewhat a bit melancholic. He was handsome, like most nations, and had that peculiar aura around him which was part of his charm. His simplicity and friendliness were two of his pleasing traits. They didn't really talk to each other much, except when they team up to tease Spain. Otherwise, he was always with England.

The strange girl at his side was beautiful too. She had very thick and dark eyebrows, that made her look incredibly scary, creating some sort of contrast with her long, messy golden hair. She was petite and thin. Her eyes were really pretty. Gibert really liked green eyes. And hers were incredible. When you first look at them, they just look plain and cold but as soon as you stare a bit more, they showed a curious mix of gentleness and fieriness. A bit like Hungary's. She really seemed to be awesome when he first saw her, riding a dragon, a large smirk on her delicate face. Too bad she was a human. 

Love was hard for a nation. And, Gilbert was sure that a girl like her wasn't easy to find. He just didn't want to be near Portugal when she will eventually die.

Yeah, love was hard to find, for nations.

"Thinking of such depressing thoughts, that so unawesome!" he yelled in the back of his mind.

"You know it's true though." replied his conscience.




Prussia arrived in the Great Hall a few minutes later the pair and the feast had already begun. How dare they? To not wait for the awesome Gilbert? He grumbled a bit before sitting down, in front of Portugal and next to Spain who was in front of South Italy who was next to France who was in front of Scotland.

All the French students were seated in the Raven-what table and the country of love couldn't help but listen to their various conversations. Apparently, they were spouting shit about someone. Before entering the room, all the countries followed the orders of the Kirkland Bros and divided themselves into smaller groups. America, Canada, China, Nothern Ireland, and Russia were stuck together at the Something-dor table. North Italy, Germany, Japan, Norway, and Wales were at the Hufflepu-what was it again(?) table. And finally, last but definitely not least, he, Spain, France, South Italy, Portugal, and Scotland were at the Slytherthing table. The coolest table.

Because he was sitting here, duh.

Contrary to the welcoming speech of the Headmaster, a lot of students at the Slytherin table had their eyes set on them. And, the awesome Gilbert didn't like it. It wasn't because he was shy or anything. No, the true reason was their glares. They were filled up with hatred and contempt. They were staring at them like they were nothing but bugs. And he was sure that he wasn't the only one to find this unpleasant. 

"What did take you this long, amigo?" asked curiously Spain.

"Ah, nothing. I was just taking a piss."

"Eh. French girls are so much more polite than these British show-offs. And so much prettier too."

"Watch your tongue." replied coldly the Portuguese nation.

"You're just saying this because your girlfriend is English. She's hot as hell, you've got some taste."

"What?" he scoffed incredulously.

"Don't play smart with me, I saw you two talking together."

"Are you may be talking about Rose? The cute girl over there." he pointed the pretty woman. Gilbert nodded, eager to hear more about the mysterious stranger. "She isn't my lover. Just a friend."

"So rude, mon ami. Breaking hearts wherever you go, just like your neighbor," added France with a dramatic sigh.

"No. Really. I mean she's really cool and all but... I'm not for her and she isn't for me. We just know each other for quite some time."

"Right," said France skeptically, "well, if she's not taken, it would be an honor for me to-"

"Don't even dare, you Frog," Scotland threatened.

"O-oh. Ok"

Prussia laughed loudly as he saw the face the French country was making. He served himself with French food, curiously not trusting the British meals. It was odd since they all looked delicious. Looking around the plates of other countries, he wasn't the only one who apparently found the British cuisine suspicious. The only one (apart from the Uk brothers) who ate it without hesitation was America. But again, America eats absolutely everything. Shrugging off this weird fact, he ate his plate without looking more into it.




Rose was deadly bored.  Minerva was busy talking with Dumbledore and the other professor next to her was the silent type.

She would kill to be able to change places.

Considering that she was still in public, she couldn't talk to fairies. She was doomed. Biting into her piece of meet lazily, she furrowed her brows and pouted. The students looked like they were having fun and chatted happily with the exchange students. As she tiredly glazed over the Slytherin table, she recognized easily Prussia. He was loud, like usual, and his hair seemed to be brighter than the last time she was it. Her eyes then passed to another person, France. He was handsome, as always, and his smile was still disgustingly brilliant. She shook her head in disbelief and continued to stare at the table. Portugal was trying to hold back Scotland who was trying to strangle someone (France) and Rose envied him so much. He didn't have to be serious, mature and wasn't supposed to be an example. 

"No, Scotland wouldn't be by any means a good example to children." she thought, amused and scared by the crazy idea at the same time.

Continuing to watch with a growing interest her former acquaintances, she switched and glared at a certain Italian. Lovino was looking good. She smiled tenderly. Even though she was bringing him in almost all the arguments she had with his former caretaker, they were buddies. He was actually quite good at giving advice but, sadly, not in following them. He understood her most of the time and didn't really care about her foul words since he knew himself, pretty nasty words. Rose chuckled a bit, remembering the words he, once, used to describe his airheaded little brother. Their friendship was secret, mainly because of Spain's protective and strange possessiveness. 

She sighed.

Spain was next. 

England was conflicted about him. 

He hated her and she hated him.

Their relation should be as simple as this!

But it's not!

They contrasted with each other.

She was rainy, he was sunny. 

He tanned nicely, she burned painfully.

She had a permanent frown, he was laughing all the damn time!

He was friendly and easy-going.

She was constantly naggy and didn't make friends easily.

He was like the Sun.

She was as gloomy as the Moon.

Rose had always hated how Antonio was so far from her, so different. She hated it.

But at the same time, she liked, no, she longed for his smile, his laugh, his compliments, his gazes...

It wasn't enough.

It was too much.

She was overthinking. AGAIN.

Her brows were furrowed and she was scaringly glazing at him. Her terrifying, cold aura, once again, was completely different from his happy-go-lucky atmosphere around him. She was so freaking jealous. Suddenly, the Spaniard who was previously chuckling at something Lovino said turned his head, meeting directly the lost eyes of the dreamy girl. Her beating heart instantly quickened its pace. By dread, surely.

Everything was warm around her, around them.

She felt her ears burned but kept her glare determinedly. She wasn't ashamed to be caught in the act of staring, she will show him!

Then, her cheeks were set on fire.

Her lip was trembling and she was desperately biting it.

She was beginning to feel hot.

Her neck was red by embarrassment.

It was a life or death battle. 

Exploding, Rose felt her brain bugging. She froze and turned her gaze away, crimson faced and flustered eyes hidden. 


Spain looked curiously at the stranger who was so intensely glaring at him. Portugal's not-girlfriend, huh? 

She hid her face from his sight. He sighed from relief, one second more and it was he who would turn his head. She was atrociously cute, he thought. He then let his head sunk low, blushing furiously. Something in him burned in desire. 

There was something familiar.

He could see the see in her green eyes, which was really weird.

He could see fucking tomatoes in her blush.

He could see golden pieces in her long, blonde hair.

All the things he adored.

That was definitely strange.

He smiled darkly.

He wanted to know why.


The huge door of the Great Hall opened again. Two men from the British Ministry of Magic entered. A cold shiver ran through the nations and all of them turned to the late newcomers. Not everyone remarked their presence at first, boys and girls too occupied at glancing nervously at the French blonde girl. 

Ludo Verpey, a charismatic overgrown child. Far too enthusiast for his own good. He isn't the brightest of them all for sure.

Barty Crompton, a serious, too radical, too serious adult. A talented wizard, far too selfish and ruthless to be completely clean. 

England sighed, they were far too opposite to work efficiently together. She knew it. One sat next to the Headmaster Karkaroff, and the other one, next to Madame Maxime.

Rose smiled and saluted them with an overly polite/forced smile. Ludo looked at her, appreciating the view and Barty shook hands with her.

Too familiar. Too cold.

That's it, she was done. Finishing her piece of meat, she waited for the desserts, secretly hoping for French pastries, not that she would admit it or anything!











Chapter Text

The speech was finally over! She sighed in relief, the rules were more reasonable than before! Seventeen was a good choice, plus, teachers will be all-around to check on the students. Smiling, she undressed and put her pajamas on. Turning the lights off, she dropped down on her bed and sniffed the light soothing lavender scent on her pillow before dozing off.



Everything was dark and cold. Two boys were slowly walking, wands in hand, defiant and careful. They looked at each other as footsteps echoed through the empty environment.

Tap Tap Tap.

Someone was coming!

The two boys looked around, each protective of the other. Trying to look more closely, the duo waited for someone to appear. The stranger was a small man, a bit round and to go by his figure, he was carrying preciously something in his arms. A baby maybe? They approached the man little by little. Suddenly, the smaller guy kneeled down, holding his forehead, looking like he was about to pass out. The other stared at him in worry, panic taking bit by bit control of him. As the one standing was about to help the injured one to stand up, an icy, acute voice pierced their ears.


The taller of the two fell, dropping dead, eyes widened as life was slowly drawn out of him. The small one was still on the floor, eyes closed, ears covered, sweat dripping down his face. 

It was over."


Rose woke up, sweating buckets, a few tears rolling down her crimson cheeks. She trembled, terrified by the dream she made. Somewhere on her forehead, a light pain began to spread. Catching her breath, England looked around her, slowly steadying herself. What was that? Straightening herself, she took her head with her hands, thinking about a logical answer. 

"Has she predicted the future?"

Shaking her head violently, she decided that a cool shower will wake up more than sitting on her comfy bed. Plus, she needed one after sweating like a pig.


In the shower, she looked at her scars perplexedly. They didn't look nice. A lot of them were on her arms, surely coming from all the times she protects herself with them. She remembers well each one of them. Tracing on one, she groaned a bit, this one was still a bit sensitive. She sighed. It wasn't time to think about the past. 

Sitting on the cold stone of the shower, she waited for something, an idea, maybe? Cold water wasn't apparently enough to break her line of thinking. Tired of overthinking, she slumped back on the wall, turning lazily the water jet off. Slowly bringing her knees against her breasts, she looked up at the cellar, trying desperately to find a solution. She knew what her dream was about and she just couldn't let this happens. A boy died, for Heaven's sake! Should she really enter the tournament? She knew it wasn't really hard to do so, but... it will just make things harder. She wanted to stay discreet, not to brag or anything. Reflecting on her options, she stayed on the ground, watching drops of water falling out of her hair and ignoring the cold chilly air of the night. It was silent and kind of soothing. Maybe staying here to think wouldn't be too bad.




Such a stupid mistake! She fell asleep! 

Getting off the shower, she slipped on something and tripped over the threshold, banging her toe. Hard. Tears of silent pain leaked as she cursed everything in her sight. Putting on her clothes, she grimaced as her body aches. Sleeping in the shower was such a bad idea. Grabbing her wand, she looked at herself.

Her face was a mess. 

Her eyes were bloody red, and her hair wasn't better. Strands of blond spiking out in some strange positions and messy overall. She had dark bags under her eyes and she looked redder but at the same time paler than usual. Due to symptoms of fatigue, she looked skinnier and lifeless. In short, Ms. Smith looked like a vampire coming straight out from a fucking horror movie.

She sighed.

"How to make students scared: lesson n°1."

She was a bit ashamed to get out of her chamber like this, especially when France and the others were here. Rose looked at her watch one last time before hurrying to breakfast. This was going to be a good day. 

Making her way down the corridors, she brushed her hair hardly, blocking the comb in her messy hair. She cried out as she draws the utensil a bit too hard. Some strands fell off. She groaned in frustration. France would always be happy to do her hair. Why couldn't she just ask him!? Oh yeah, right, she alternated his memories, shit. She left the comb in her hair, hoping that no-one would ever ask her what happened.




How she was wrong!

Sure, students wouldn't even dare to talk to her, but her brothers wouldn't even hesitate one bit!

After making herself a plate of food, she was dragged away by her forceful and clingy brothers (even if she was sometimes the clingier of the lot), who made her sit in the Gryffindor table. Glaring at them suspiciously, she didn't question their strange and unusual behavior, hoping that they would explain it themselves. In response, they shrugged and smiled warmly at their little sister. Exasperated, she ignored the fact that some Gryffindor students were staring at her incredulously and chopped a bit of her toast off. Her brothers considered this as a sign of surrender and plopped down by her sides.

"Rose... why do you have a comb in your hair?" Connor suddenly asked.

"And why does your hair look like a bird's nest?" questioned David, interested.

"You look like shit," added Allistair with a smug grin.

Some students who were eavesdropping gasped silently, eager to see more of their interaction. But, surprisingly, the teacher looked amused and simply smirked.

"You look beautiful too, Allistair."

The boys all sputtered in laughter, confusing everyone around them. Wales got up and went behind his sister, taking delicately the comb out of her hair. 

"You always had strange hair, bunny."

"Don't call me that!"

"I'm older than you, so I've got all the rights to call you "bunny"."

"Sod off, you're far worse than Fra-French..."

"That's kind of true," said Scotland.

"I thought you liked me, dear brother of mine," Connor replied while laughing.

He brushed tenderly her hair, making some braids here and here. England ate with difficulty her breakfast but didn't complain. Wales' touch was soothing and his soft voice was humming a catchy tune. Listening quietly while eating, she sang some bits.

"Voilà!" He said when he finished, in a perfect French accent.

"I swear, I'm gonna punch you."

"You wouldn't, I know you, Rose."

"P-Piss off, you arsehole!"

"So cute~! We really missed you. You and your annoying but adorable voice, sneaky and mean but caring comments, and also that constantly frowning but awfully pretty face..."

"God, David. Shut up!"

"I didn't say anything."

She grimaced at her brothers before taking her last bite of sausage. Allistair looked at her in endearment while she smiled discreetly, hiding it from her grinning siblings. 

"How are you, I mean, it's not like I care but..."

"We've been fine. Dealing with them wasn't as hard as we thought." the older brother said.


"I guess it's just my personality that kept me away from befriending the other nations." she thought sourly while playing with her fingers nervously.

"But... Japan seems to be suspect us." he continued.

"Oh? Why makes you think that?"

"Well, he keeps staring at us, avoiding us..." recited David while counting on his fingers.

"And, also, he keeps remarking that something was missing. Each time there's a blank. Most of the time, America answers him with a stupid answer, but last time," Connor cut off.

"Spain agreed with him immediately, Romano then reluctantly admitted that the meeting was more boring than usual. France nodded and Italy was, for once, silent." Allistair finished darkly.

"The charm didn't go off," she replied while looking at her plate, "I'm sure it's not that important."

"If you say so..."

"Oh shoot, Rose looked around. Nobody was there, it was already class time. Engulfing the rest of her toast, she then asked for her brothers to clear her plate. She didn't wait for an answer and run to her classroom. She was fifteen minutes late!

Chapter Text

Everyone was waiting for their professor to arrive. It was strange, she never arrived late to a class, not even once! It wasn't that surprising with all of her "gentleman" policy. Harry looked behind him, everyone has begun to chat. He also noticed the presence of four adults. One of them was Asian, another had their eyes closed and the last one was blond and buffy. The teenager stared at the group, he was sure he saw four new people and not three. Where is the fourth one?! Shaking his head to see where he could be, he gave up when Ron suddenly told him:

"And you Harry, for who you're rooting for?"

"What are you talking about, Ron?"

"You know what I meant. For the Triziward Tournament!"

"Ah... Well, I think that Cedric has some chances... Angelina is really talented too, I guess. Everyone but a Slytherin..."

The two of them laughed a bit but Hermione, who was next to them, made signs to make them stop laughing. Ron thought that she was just being her grumpy-self but, sadly, that wasn't the case. Someone, not looking very happy, heard them. With a curt gest, she made the class get in the class in silence. Cool, she was pissed. Students stopped talking and obeyed. Harry silently excused himself. He knew that Miss Rose wasn't like the other Slytherins, but was as proud as possible on this matter. Taking out their things, the lesson began.

"Hello everyone, sorry for the delay. I was obligated to do some things... As I was saying, today we're going to continue the chapter about the dark charms' history. How they evolved, or better, how they disappeared! Everyone, open your book p. 2273..."

Waiting for everyone to find the page, Rose looked at her class. Three, no, four new faces were present today. They were sitting together, chatting happily. They were countries. Japan, Italy, Germany... and, Matthew. It wasn't possible, she never remembers his country name. Glaring at them, she asked:

"What can I do for you... sirs?"

"Hi! Are you a professor?! You look so cute and young through..."

"Feliciano-san, it's not a way to talk to..." whispered Japan.

"Call me Feli, Kiku!"

"Right, Feli-san..."

"We're representants of other countries. I am Germany's, and these are Japan's and Italy's." Ludwig said strictly.

"As professional as ever, Germany..." she snickered under her breath.


"Nothing... I hope you all pass a good stay here at Hogwarts, even if you're all Muggles. But, are you sure you want to stay here, History Class isn't the most, well according to students, interesting of the lot."

"That's not true, Miss Rose! The class is very interesting because of you!"

"That's really nice, Miss Granger but, please, refrain from talking without raising your hand."

"It's okay. Learning about British History could be really useful..." muttered Japan.


Rose cast a spell, giving each one of them a copy of the manual. After this, she returned to the small scene and began to explain the origins of various spells. Later during the lecture, a ginger boy raised his hand, genuinely curious.

"Don't take this as an offense, but, why do we learn about this in History Class? And not in the Charms and Sortileges' one? Or even the DADA's one?

"That's quite a good question, Mister Weasley. Well, Charms, is, believe me, or not, a really complex class. Like Transfiguration, it demands a lot of practice and theory to successfully master a spell perfectly. DADA is supposed to be an "in emergency case" like class. It trains you to not lose your face when you're confronted with an assailant and to know the effects that dark curses can cause you. It's prevention, on that point, I agreed with Alastor. You always have to be vigilant to survive, especially in times like these." her eyes turned dark as she glazed over the countries who were listening attentively. "But, in this class, we just study in which way the creation of these spells affected us or the Muggle world. However, I'm not giving you the keys to achieve a dark curse, nor to create one. Understanding the circumstances of the origins of them will make you more aware of other subjects. Now that I have answered your question, let's continue. So, as I was saying, the Dark Arts are really interesting to study, and well... to practice too."

"I always said that she seemed shady..."

"God, I thought she was better than that."

Murmurs and various gasps spread across the classroom but Rose was fine with it. She was used to this sort of thing, as long as they don't insult her in front of her face, she will ignore it. Brats were brats after all. They didn't need to understand her reasons and passions. Dark Arts were used a lot more in the past and weren't called "Dark".

"As expected from a former Slytherin."

Sighing, she raised her wand and passed them copies of today's class. 

"Since I was late, I took the liberty to print the lesson. Don't look at me like that! This Muggle invention is really useful, and the writing is neat in contrary to yours. Please, Mister Weasley, don't insult my House. I may be a wicked person but, that's not the case of all of them. You all going to read this for tomorrow since I need to talk to all of you. As you all know, the Triziward Tournament is coming up. I'm a teacher, a History one at that, so I know what are its consequences. People die. I know that you are smarter than you look but please, don't be as brave as you can be during this year." the country said solemnly. "And don't do stupid things, you will seriously regret it. Other teachers won't tell you this, but, most of the deaths of the previous tournaments aren't always champions. Accidents, or worse, murders, happen during these kinds of events. I just hope that Dumbledore is sane enough to not let-"

Someone broke down the door, interrupting her speech. She jumped in surprise before automatically grabbing her wand but quickly drop it when she saw the face of the guy, or rather guys, who cut her off. Regaining her emotions and expressions in check, she coughed a little bit embarrassed as she reached down to pick up her fallen weapon. 

"...Can I do anything for you, sirs?"

They were three people, three countries. Prussia, France, and Romano. Strangely, Spain wasn't present. Rose stared at them in disbelief, searching for answers.


"If they don't leave in approximatively two minutes, I'm going to kick them out."

"We're so terribly sorry, mademoiselle. But, we really need your help right now..."

"What? What happened? Are you all okay?"

"Non, non, it's nothing severe... But, our friend, the Scottish one, told us that you could help us anytime."

"Oh... ok, well?"


"Cut the crap, frog. What happened?" she asked, worry deepening her frown.

"Someone, accidentally..."

"Antonio is paralyzed, some boys pulled a nasty prank in him." finished Antonio.

"What?! Everyone, the class's over. Where is he?"

"In an empty classroom, on the second floor."

"Great, today is a fucking awesome day."

The four other guests who assisted at her class followed them, worried about their friend. 

"Who would have pulled a trap? All the students are in class now..."

Running through the halls, she shook her head, it wasn't the time for that. 



Isn't Moody supposed to deal with them?

Rose and boggarts never dwell well together. As a nation, she had too many fears but also too much pride. When a boggart attacks a country, it often turns really violent. But well, it was always better than a Dementor. Cursing her stupid brother, she ordered everyone to back off and to get the nurse. Muggles were ridiculously sensible to magical creatures.

As she entered the room, she noticed how dark it was. Luckily, she could still see the silhouette of the Spaniard. The latter was in his knees looking defected. Suddenly, she was his boggart.

It was her.

Rose felt hurt.

The boggart was her, well, her body at least. She was crying, hands holding her head and hiding her tears. She had a lot of injuries and blood was seeping out of her military uniform. It was such a sad sight. Watching herself being this pitiful. The Spaniard was certainly afraid that he wasn't being the cause of her sadness. Stepping between Antonio and the thing, the boggart changed.

It was Scotland who was giving her up. France, saying that she would never be as beautiful as Joan. America pointing a musket at her. And, finally Spain.

"You're the most horrible thing that happened in my life."

The words still rang in her ears, making her knees buckling, her eyes prickling and her heart aching. 

Then, it changed. It was herself.

Looking as miserable as possible. All the challenge in her eyes wasn't there anymore, making them look lifeless. She was standing in the rain, alone, ignoring the tears which rolled down her reddish cheeks. Her gaze was fixed on the ground. It was horrible. Seeing yourself so... emotionless, so frail, so weak... 

The real Rose looked at the boggart and smiled sadly. So, her biggest fear was herself without her fieriness. It fitted her pretty well. Inside her head, she muttered the spell and looked at the result.

The boggart transformed into Scotland wearing a princess dress.

She burst into laughter. 

Spain looked at her, lost and confused. He didn't remember a lot but two things were sure:

  1. He definitely knew the girl in front of him.
  2. And two... she had the most beautiful smile he ever saw.



Chapter Text

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Ah, sí, thank you... sorry for causing trouble.."

"Don't worry about that..."

However, the face of the "young" teacher didn't say the same thing as her mouth. She reluctantly gave him a hand and helped him to stand up. The country of passion kissed her hand, winking seductively at the girl. England flushed red and quickly remove her hand from his grip. Her mind was screaming at her to punch him, but sadly, she could have problems if she did, so she just kept staring at him in anger and embarrassment.

"Don't fall for him."

Coughing a little at the thought, she straightened herself.

"Y... You can go now, Poppy will take care of you. Don't force yourself too much and also-"

"Rose!" a woman called her, cutting her off.

"...Poppy!" replied the girl, a bit surprised.

"What did you do again? Are you sure you aren't a Gryffindor? Getting bruised all the time? Stop being this reckless."

"I'm sorry, but, this isn't about me... This... uhh, fine young man, a Muggle, had a lovely interaction with a boggart! Since his friends begged me to help him, I couldn't turn a blind eye to their desperate pleas..."

"We did not beg!" yelled Prussia in a very manly high-pitched voice.

"Pretty much. My job here is done, so I will excuse myself and politely..."

"Hang on a second, miss. I still want to take a look at you."

"What? But I'm not the injured one!"

"No "buts", you two, are going to quietly follow me. The other ones, shoo!"

"But I have work to do!" complained Rose.

"No "buts". You're overworking yourself too much dear. I can see it written on your face."


"That's okay." the nurse assured.

"Fine! Do what you want."




Antonio was surprisingly really silent. He was just sitting on his bed, watching with curious eyes his savior and the other witch. His eyes were still a bit red from the tears and a blanket was tightly wrapped around him. Poppy was a bit surprised, any normal Muggle wouldn't be this affected.

England was sat in front of her colleague who was staring carefully at the features of the country, grimacing a bit. She frowned slightly as she listened closely to the nurse. 

"You seem to have caught a cold. And, you didn't sleep well. It's not severe but you have to rest. We don't want our History teacher to fall ill. Your body isn't really strong concerning diseases. You have to take better care of yourself."

"I'm not a child!"

"You are for me." Poppy replied.

"If only she knew..."

"I am going to fetch the medicine, just wait here with our guest. Severus should be able to help me with this..."

"Good, I trust him more than... well, most of the people here."

The nurse ignored Rose and left the room, fussing about how young people being careless. The door shut down and England let herself fall down on the bed. She turned her head around, watching quietly Spain who was also looking at her. Both of their faces flushed red. A long minute of silence passed before the woman decided it was enough.

"...Uh? So, What are you all doing here? Didn't know that Hogwarts accepted Muggles ambassadors..." she said, coughing awkwardly, looking away. "I mean, it's not like I don't want you around! Uh, no, that's... But that doesn't mean either that I want you to-! Hey! What are you laughing for?! Got something to say?!"

"No... that's, pfft. You're kinda funny you know..." replied the Spaniard while trying to stop chuckling.

"Hah?! W-What do you mean, wanker?!"

"You should hold your tongue through..."

"You began to laugh first. God, that's why I don't like talking to *random* people..."

"Are you pouting?"

"No, I'm not! I'm not a child and I'm certainly older than you think !"

Talking with someone who doesn't remember you is hard. But... talking to your annoying, former rival who doesn't remember you is just plain troublesome. With cheeks red of embarrassment, she stuck out her tongue, glaring spitefully at him. This act amplified the laughter of the tanned country. 

"S-S-Stop laughing, you bloody..!"

"Sorry! You're just so cute, I couldn't help it!"

Her face and ears flared up even more and her brain burned so much that it short-circuited. She choked, hoping to hide this as a sudden fit of coughs and stared at Spain shyly. Did he just call her cute? 

"Don't get any ideas, he tells this to everyone... it's just that you weren't "somebody" for him before the whole erasing memories thing. Italy, Romano, France, Prussia, Japan, Germany, even Russia once! Damn it!"

"Wow, congratulations. He must have really hated you."

"Well, he still does. And, when he will find out about this..."

The bright green eyes of Spain stared curiously back at England's. Her eyes were wide open and looked so full incertitude and loneliness. The tanned man didn't know if he wanted to see more of the terrified, frail side of Rose, or if he wanted to comfort her and help her to regain her proud facade. The teacher abruptly lowered her gaze, not trusting them. 

"I... I'm not cute, please, don't talk such nonsense, Antonio."

Her eyes changed back, they were now hurt but as fiery as ever. An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of them.

"I-" Antonio tried to respond.

The door slammed open, revealing Poppy with a goblet in her hand and some nations (Prussia and France). She got UP only to be told to sit quietly. With a groan, she obeyed the woman and waited silently and patiently. 

"Stay still, you don't have any period now anyway."

"Really? Bloody hell, that's true. I completely forgot I had a blank."

"See. Now drink this.."

"Fine. Poppy, what are they all doing here?"

"Oh, they're just here to visit their friend, don't worry about them, honey."

England took the potion gratefully and sniffed at it. It didn't look lethal and well, she already ate something way worse. Finishing the drink in one go, she then looked at the scene that was happening right next to her. Spain was laughing and smiling again. He probably said that to tease her. There was no way that Spain, out of all the people would call her cute. Yeah, totally improbable. She smiled a bit sadly before getting up.

"Can I go now?"

"Yes, you can but don't force yourself. We need you tonight, and well, in general. You can ask Snape for potions whenever you feel weird."

"Thanks, Poppy."

She got out of the infirmary, wandering as she wonders what could she do to make the time pass. 

"Should I go see Hagrid? He always needs some help..."

As she was thinking out loud, she bumped into someone running through the halls. Surprised, she almost fell down only to be held back by a muscled hand. As she looked up to the rude stranger, her eyes suddenly shined and a small smile achieved to make its way on her frowny face.


"Pedro! What are you doing here, you should be enjoying your stay. That's not every day that you see the most incredible, outstanding school of the entire world!"

"Actually, I heard you fainted, so I was on my way to meet you at the-"

"T-That's not true! Antonio is the one who nearly did..."

"Anyway, are you okay? Scot told me it was a bo-..."

"Don't worry, I'm used to it. Dementors are way more painful. Keep an eye on your brother and his friends, I'm a teacher, not a babysitter, dang it."

"That's quite the same thing-"

"No, they aren't-!"

"And besides, he is my NEIGHBOR." the Portuguese man finished with an annoyed voice.

"That's quite the same thing." she mimicked him in a ridiculous, high-pitched voice.

"So that means that you and..."

"Don't you dare finish this sentence, arsehole."

"Is little Iggy angry?"

"I swear, if I wasn't forced to behave with all of you, I would have sent you in Azkaban ages ago!"

"Love you too! God, I missed you so much. It's too silent without you being a caring nit-picky..." he told her while washing off a fake tear.

"I.. I'm not! Shut up..."

"Hey, don't pout!"

"I'm not pouting," she replied, sulking;

"You are."

"Piss off! I'm not."

"Kinda cute by me."

"S-Sod off!" she stammered, causing Pedro to laugh heartily.

The couple continued to walk away from the infirmary without noticing the three pairs of envious(?), curious eyes. Oddly, Antonio, a seductive man who can easily get someone, felt something tug inside him. As he clenched his heart, he knew what that feeling was... Jealousy. Looking darkly at the scene, he didn't know which one hurt the most. The fact that she didn't accept him, or the fact that his own neighbor could so easily talk with her. He glared murderously at the two before leaning on a wall, ignoring the comments of his two friends. He was feeling betrayed but didn't know why. 

It was frustrating.

"God, England is so frustrating!"

Wait, what?

What did he just-?

"Yo Spain, what are you thinking about? You seem off since we left the kind, old woman... Don't you tell me that you fall for her?!" Prussia shouted.

"No, no. That's not my type."

"Yeah Gil, Spain always liked "hard to get", rude people, like mon lapin for example..."

"Eh?? What did you say?"

"You always liked people like... Uh? What did I say?" the French asked himself? 

"That's what I asked you!?"

"I'm sure you said Romano, Frenchie. I mean, isn't Romano always the solution to all Antonio's problems."

"Gosh, you two just shut up." Spain suddenly snapped.

The other two knew that it was more sure for them to not press any other buttons to their friend's odd switches.

"You're such a wicked person."

"Why it has always to be you!"

"You're truly greedy."

"Such a repugnant girl."

"Scars do fit you well..."

Antonio didn't know why all of these insults were coming to mind. But, one thing he mysteriously knew is, that they were destined to one special person. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

"I'm happy I don't have to fight anymore..."



"Because I really don't want to see your face anymore."

Chapter Text

At the end of the day, in the hall during the nomination of the champions


England didn't know how she ended up here, sitting at a table full of nations, with everyone bickering about useless things. A vein pulsed, it felt far too familiar. Sure, she could and wanted very much to tell everyone to shut up, but, it will be too suspicious. The most safety option is to be out of character, so that means :

  • No shouting
  • No wrestling
  • No bragging
  • No cursing

All that was left was, sitting quietly, acting like all of their shit was the most interesting thing in the whole world. She sighed remembering how the stupid and coward Italy got her. Just because of his pretty puppy eyes. She knew well enough that she was weak to that. And why the heck did they invited her for? She turned her head, crossing her eyes with Pedro who was, unfortunately, too far away to save her from this hell. Rose groaned before looking at her two morons sat next to her. On her left was America, who was chewing on a hamburger that he took out from nowhere, and on her right was France, who was blowing kisses to everyone.

It was too fucking familiar to not be on purpose.

Did someone already found out?

But, then, the only suspect is... Italy? No, that's impossible. He is the most clueless, innocent, idiotic one... well, maybe America could beat him to it.

Scratching anxiously her head, she leaned on the back of her chair, tired from the long day full of rebellious children and completely crazy countries. Glancing up, she remarked something she didn't before, the person in front of her. His purple eyes were full of emotions but his face was dull. Something, again, very familiar. Norway. Her eyes twinkled excitedly as she recognized the stern-looking guy who was reading a magic book.

Feeling that someone was staring at him (he's pretty used with Denmark), he looked up to find the determined glare of the girl in front of him. Something was up. She seemed so cold and unfriendly but at the same time... she was so warm... and well, he felt like he always knew her. Embarrassed to be caught, she quickly diverted her gaze, choosing to fix the cellar instead. Yes, that sight was really strange and Lukas swears he was about to laugh his lungs out. Trying to relieve a bit of the awkwardness, he tried to smile at her, attempting to start a discussion.

"Hello... you're a wizard, right? I saw you with the dragon, you were... cool. I'm Lukas, it's... nice to meet you."

"I-I-I'm Rose, nice to meet you too."

After a few moments of silence shared between the two, the one who remembered asked :

"So... what are you reading?"




They talked with each other merrily, England with longing and melancholy mixed with enthusiast and happiness and Norway with the same dull, monotone tone but a small smile and few sparkles in his eyes made everything so different. 

"I agreed! Even if British magic is world known, other types of magic are so interesting. It's too bad that no-one takes the time to enjoy them. God! I wish I could learn all of them."

"Hm." he nodded.

"... Shoot, I forgot to put my name in the cup!"

"Huh? You want to participate?"

"Act out of character, out of character, out of...."

"Not really actually... it's just that-"

"You want to assure yourself that everyone, at the end of it, is safe."


"I think you're pretty aware of the risks, I saw you deal with the dragon. It's obvious it wasn't the first time. To be honest, I think you are more skilled than everyone thinks. You could be just a good wizard... However, I once saw Connor's familiar once, and, she is pretty dangerous when not managed well... Plus, you're a teacher, so you must care, at least a bit, for your students."  The male nation told, looking at all the different expressions of his new (not so) companion.


"Isn't it?"

"You're... quite right. B-B-But that's not totally because I care for my students!" she babbled.

"I already heard that somewhere..." thought Norway.

"Anyway, that's too late. I hope that the older students listened to me..."

The banquet started and the chance of deposing her name in the cup disappeared, she should have been quicker! Norway noticed the way Rose diverted her eyes anxiously more than he could actually count and tried to distract her by all the means possible. 

The headmaster finished his speech and meals began to cover the surface of the table. This time, they weren't any traditional French food so England sadly concluded that they were no more pastries. She sighed and began, by habit, to fill up the plates of her brothers and the North American twins with their preferences. Noticing what she just did, she turned to her former colonies, a panicked look placed on her face.

"Hey! Hey! Guys, look! My plate was filled up and I didn't do anything! Is a ghost watching over me?!"

"Oh no, that's just me America, I'm sorry," replied Wales while chuckling at his sister's cute mistake. 

She exhaled in relief, happy that no-one remarked her snapping her fingers in sync. However, her miseries didn't end here. Abruptly, Italy got up and demanded politely everyone to give him a moment. Nobody obeyed him. 

"Everyone shut up!" Germany finally shouted, not wanting Italy to cause a scene publicly.

Not so strangely, everyone shut their mouths.

"Thanks, Lud, now, I want to have all of your attention! This is Miss Smith, she is a really.... special person. I hope we can all become friends with her so that's why I invited her to eat with all of us!"

The nations then all turned to the said witch. How did they not remarked her? She seemed to have a strong personality and to give people a big impression of her. It was strange that she is so... natural. Her presence oddly fitted, that's why not many have noticed the new girl. And, well, she is pretty cute too.

"I am Rose Smith, the History teacher at Hogwarts. I hope that all of you enjoy your stay..."

"I think it's one of the biggest lies I'd ever say..."

"Wow, History Teacher, that's so dope, dude!" screamed the loud American.

"A belle (beautiful) one at that..." comment France.  

"Da, she's really cute, I want to be friends with her," added Russia while smiling cutely.

"I agreed, aru," said China.

"Ignore them, bella. My name is Lovino." advised Romano with a cocky grin.

"T-That's okay," assured Rose while blushing and trying to not strangle France.

"I hope we can get along with each other. I'm Kiku Honda." murmured Japan.

"Hey, guys! You're scaring her off!" reprimanded Germany.

"I think you're the scary one, Ludwig." cried out Italy.

"Yeah, chill out bro! I'm Gilbert by the way!" let out Prussia while grinning.

"I'm... Matthew Williams, I hope-" Canada began.

"Happy to meet you, Rosa." Portugal calmly spoke.

"You already know me, Pedro!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, but, well, that's funny..."

"Artie, why didn't you sit next to us?" Northern Ireland childishly whined.

"Don't call me like that, David."

"Then, pick your favorite, Luv, sweetheart, princess maybe?" proposed Scotland with a smug grin.

"Aah! Piss off Allistair!"

"Personally, I prefer "bunny"..."

"Sod off, I'm not a baby anymore..."

"You'll always be for us!" they replied in unison.


"I look forward to our nex friendship, Miss Smith."

She ignored her loud brothers and suddenly remembered someone else. There was one last person to introduce. She glanced around before spotting him, sitting in the far corner of the table. She grimaced, him looking so grim was always a bad sign. Without no-one noticing, she got up and walked to the pouting nation. It was not because she cared for him or anything, it was just her job as a host!



"Oi! Stop daydreaming and fight!"

"You don't want to be decapitated, don't you?"

"You fucking wanker! Get back here!"

"Don't you dare die on me! I'm the only one who will kill you!"


"I'm sorry..."

"I fell in love with you."

"I know that my... well, feelings aren't reciprocated. I... just..."

"Wanted to say this before..."

" I guess it's a goodbye, Antonio."

These sentences were the same, yet completely different. They all had the same, tender, gentle voice but its tones changed every single time. It was so complicated that the head of the Spaniard was burning. He could almost feel the hidden smirks and the tears that didn't fall down in these. He was sure that he already heard it, that he knew the mysterious voice. It was so near yet so far away. Sighing loudly, he let his head fall hard against the wooden table.

"Ah? What was it for?"

Again, the same damn voice. How long does it will still haunt him like that? Not that he complained to hear a beautiful sound but somehow, it made him feels like something was missing.

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

A longing feeling blossomed in the country's heart. Had he gone mad?

"Mr. Carriedo... are you feeling alright?"

Spain finally broke off his thoughts and turned around. The voice!

And, surprise. Miss Smith was standing awkwardly behind him, looking genuinely worried but her cold face still in place. 

Antonio concluded that his hearing wasn't as great as he thought before.







Chapter Text


"Oh! Miss Smith, I'm sorry! What did I do-?"

"Mr. Carriedo, please, calm down. You didn't do anything, I just wanted to make sure everything is okay since this morning... so? Are you okay?"

"N-Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm... feeling great! And you? Are you enjoying my incredible friends' presence?" he asked with a beautiful grin.

"Would he have said this if I was with them?"

"Yeah... they're... all very friendly. I'm not used to this but it's okay," she replied, looking away.

"I'm beginning to regret to have erased their memories. Everything will backfire. They won't have any trust left in me... What did I do?"

"... No, I prefer being hated by the entire world than to risk, another time, my land... Not again."

"They're good people," Spain stated.

"Would he include me if I was on their side?"

"I know." she agreed melancholically.

"How can you?" 

"I'm not really good at judging people. But, well, they just seem to genuinely care for each other. It's... refreshing. And seeing them happy kinda makes me want to smile." 

"I see. It's true that we do care for each other but our relationship isn't that..."

"I wish I could have these sorts of relationships..." she lashed out, contemplating the rudy crowd while a tiny smile made its way on her lips. Normally, she would have been there, somewhere near the center with some prank pulled on her. This was really a shame that she cast a spell. She wouldn't admit it but, she truly liked passing her days with these goofy idiots.

Spain narrowed his eyes on the strange woman, smiling tenderly, so she could make those expressions too, huh?

"I didn't know you could smile this cutely, mi Rosa."

"Wh-What are you spouting about? You tosser, stop distracting me!"

Ah, this voice. Lost in his broken dreams, he didn't even notice the particular name the voice wore. Without him realizing, she sat down next to him and smiled delicately at him.

"You seem lonely like this. I thought you were the 'easy-going', 'cheerful' type, maybe was I wrong?"

"Are you sure you don't confuse me with Pedro?" he replied, still a bit troubled.

"No. Pedro is a calm, gentle, relaxed but sociable person. I can always rely on him, there's no way I would confound you and my best friend... I'm not that bad!" 

"... How did you meet Pedro?"

"Someone introduced me to him..."

Rose couldn't just tell him that this person was Spain himself. She closed her eyes briefly and decided that if the other was going on about this more, she would just change the subject. Waiting for a reply, she distracted herself by looking down. Then, she noticed something that made her angry. An empty plate. Did she really cook that bad? She had remarked that a lot of nations waited a lot before beginning to actually eat. Frowning dramatically, she asked :

"That's not poisoned, you know?"


"I mean... food. British food isn't that disgusting! You should eat, you, muggles, are ridiculously sensitive to magical creatures. You'll surely faint before the end of the ceremony, ha." she mocked.

"I'm sorry, I'm not a trash bag," he replied, slightly annoyed by the provocative tone of the teacher.

"What the heck did you say, arsehole?!"

The two bickered and Antonio remarked that it was so natural. A warm feeling burning in his body, his heart pounding hard in his chest, the voice of his interlocutor... all of this. He knew well enough this feeling. Rage. Passion. He didn't know which one he would use to describe their conversation. After all, love is never really far from hatred. 

"Why do I think like this!? She's a freaking witch, there's no way I feel something other than despise for her."

Frowning in confusion, he pouted more than before and refused categorically to eat anything. England twitched, he was seriously beginning to get on her nerves. Since they all arrived,  she didn't even have a second of rest. She was stressed all the fucking time. Normally, in her right state, she would have reprimanded America for doing this but well, she was an adult and Antonio really deserved it. As her smirk grew and her glare blackened, she cast a simple spell under her breath.


She looked at the new face of her former rival, an evil grin plastered on her face. Call her susceptible, she didn't care anymore, it was just so satisfying. Playing the innocent card, she added, smiling :

"I think that fairies didn't appreciate that you just insulted my country's cuisine..."

Mash potatoes covering his face, Spain stared incredulously at the chuckling girl, she was really bad at hiding her amusement.

"I don't believe you!" he shouted, drawing the attention of everyone next to them. A silence passed before a very loud and enormous burst of laughter echoed. It was Pedro, who was gently massaging his sides while banging his fist on the table.

"I thought you were "Tomato Bastard"? Should I call you "Potato Bastard" instead?" Romano added a smug expression on.

"Lovi~! You're not helping!" Spain shouted back. "You. I know it was YOU!"

"What are you talking about? I've left my wand at my initial seat... Are you not aware that wizards can't do any shit without their bloody wands? Are you really this dumb?" 

"It's not a lie technically... Only great wizards can do magic without wands. It's not like he knew that anyway."

"And I already told you that it was the fairies. But, well, some people can't see them, that's too bad," she said, a proud grin provoking the growing anger of the male nation, blaming the fairies was always a good idea with.... these kinds of... nuisances.

"Then prove it!"

"Connor!?" she yelled while winking.

"She's right. I saw a couple of fairies smashing something in your face." he winked back.

"I saw you two!"

"I saw them too, Antonio," added Norway, wiling discreetly in amusement. 

"That's settled. Now, eat, we don't want any waste, right?"




After eating a not so atrocious meal, Dumbledore demanded everyone's attention. It was the time everyone waited for. The announcement of the Three Champions. England really dreaded it. The headmaster grabbed with agility the tiny piece of parchment.

"And the hero of Durmstrang is... VIKTOR KRUM!"

Rose sighed in relief, the boy was largely capable of surviving these tasks. He managed to save her in time, after all. She heard a ton of acclamations and cheers. At last, she wasn't the only one to think so.

"The champion of Beauxbâtons is... FLEUR DELACOUR!"

The teacher looked in approbation, the nex champion seemed confident and determined. Rose liked that even though she was a Frog.

"Last but not least... the champion of Hogwarts! Cedric Diggory!"

The hall burst in cheers. Some Hufflepuffs were crying in joy, some were screaming and a lot of girls screeched. England clapped politely and gave the young boy a thumbs up while smiling proudly and genuinely. Cedric has all of her trust, sure, he wouldn't get killed. He was a skilled boy and his abs proved his athletism. Sighing in relief, she listened to the ruckus of the students, a fond grin plastered on her face. The champions of today are mature enough to know the risks and skilled enough to survive. Norway was happy to see Rose relaxed and clapped along even if Cedric wasn't "his" champion.

However, as Albus was going on in his speech, the goblet became, once again, red, consumed by the fire in it. Rose stopped smiling as she remarked it. What the heck was happening? Tensing up, the UK siblings stared at each other in confusion... it wasn't supposed to-

Two pieces of parchment flew across the hall before returning in the hand of Dumbledore. He opened his mouth and his eyes landed on Harry Potter and then on her. The country was surprised but she expected it a bit... Someone cursed the relic! Slowly steadying herself, she took small breaths and closed her eyes. She strangely guessed the next words of her boss.

"Harry Potter."

Three seconds of pure silence and...

"Rose Smith."

Fuck that! She would participate if she wanted to but no-one could decide for her. Shaking in rage, she looked around, there was surely something, someone, who can clear this. She could understand why Harry Potter was put in the Cup... but her name! How dare they? She stopped on her tracks as she felt a calm hand on her shoulder. She glanced up and met the serious but reassuring eyes of Norway.

"You don't have to do this, Rose."

It's... true. But, who was she? The (former) British Empire! One of the most magical countries of the world! And still a pirate at heart. Taking the hand of her friend, she smiled warmly and then smirked.

"Of course not... but I wouldn't take down a challenge."

"I will just play along..."

She got up and walked in front of her destiny.

"Prepare yourselves, because I'm not gonna go down without a good fight."

The countries looked at the teacher smiling and cheering. It just felt so right. It was like she was always here. Most of the teachers were worried but they still gave her encouragement messages. Yeah, for her, for them, she is going to win this fight. She let the frightened Potter boy and then slipped herself in the room, closing behind her the door after sending a wink to Neville. The obscurity enveloped the two of them. 

Chapter Text

The room was enlighted by a fire. She stared in disbelief, she knew that she wasn't particularly tall but damn, why was she the second smallest out of everyone. She noticed the  (smaller) trembling boy next to her and suddenly remembered that even though Harry Potter was a hero, he was, after all, just a child.

"Like another hero I know..."

She placed a hand on his shoulder to make him look at her and then send him her most maternal smile. She then ruffled his hair affectionately and told him:

"Are you okay, Harry? Not really enthusiast for the tournament?"

"I didn't even put my name in it!" he screamed in horror.

"Well, me too. But the relic is sacred, cursed or not, the Ministry would want us to obey its rules. Let's just try to not get killed..."

The boy shuddered in panic and Rose mentally cursed herself. Yeah, she wasn't the best to comfort children even though she raised so much of them. But well, humans are... more complicated than countries in that way. She hit him in the back gently. 

"Please, make that nothing will happen during this shitty tournament" she prayed in a whisper.

Harry Potter, hearing this, finally understood the true intention of his teacher. She wasn't really good at it but it made him calm down a little. He could see clearer now. After clearing some misunderstandings, they all waited in silence. Rose wasn't sure of why they were all that silent, is it because she was a teacher? Then, the three headmasters and a few professors and Norway, France and the other parts of the United Kingdom, entered the room. Fleur finally broke her silence and ran to her Headmistress.

"Madame Maxime! They want a little boy to participate! That-That's insane!"

"Oi, oi, he's just right here, you know... Well, I guess he is too shocked to respond anyway..."

All the adults began to argue with each other and England just sat here, watching the fire in amusement. It was so great to pretend to be "just a child". Since she was the younger adult in here, she could easily escape from her duties, not like when she's England. Dumbledore questioned Harry and Rogue was just plainly annoyed, Madame Maxime was accusing Albus and Karkaroff tried to be polite with the men of the Ministry, the four children just looked at each other in awkwardness, France was calming his French companion, Norway was standing next to Karkaroff and her brothers were just looking angry and argued with everyone. Everybody in this room seemed to have forgotten about the fifth champion. As she was thinking about all the possibilities, Scotland suddenly said:

"Rose, what do you think about it? You didn't say a word, that's not like you..."

Everyone turned to the blasé nation. She was literally trying to touch the fire with her bare hands. Looking disinterested, she didn't even turn around to see her interlocutors.

"Well, I think it's a trap."

"Oh, so you didn't-" added David.

"I thought about it. But I was too fucking tired to remember to put my name," she said while scratching her head in exasperation. "I swear if I catch the damned bloody bastard who dared to-"

"And so?" asked Connor.

"... Well, I'm going to participate, duh."

"No way, brat/Luv/Artie." replied the three brothers.

"Why? Listen to me at least!" she cried out in indignation.

"No means no, dearie. You're precious to us, we can't just let you be eaten by lions for example!" Connor justified.

"You fucking did it once! "

"Really, weren't they spiders?"

"Bloody hell, Connor."

Everyone looked at them in disbelief and glaring back at them, England cleared up her throat. 

"I'm going to participate no matter if you want me to or not. I won't die easily and you know that."

The sad, almost pleading smile on her angelic face said it all. Her eyes were, as always, a part of her that didn't lie. 

"Please, trust me."

She didn't state these words aloud but everyone seemed to understand, her determined gaze making them surrender.

"In any case, they all have to participate, they're bonded with a magical contract, isn't that right, Dumbledore?" Moody said with a wicked smile.

"That's right."

"Hogwarts just obviously wanted to have more chances to win, it's a conspiracy!" Madame Maxime exclaimed in a very thick accent.

"Allons, calmez-vous, mademoiselle... ( Let's calm down, miss)" said with a calm and seductive smile the country of love.

"I completely agree with Madame Maxime! I'm going to bring you all before the Magical Court of the International Confederation of Wizards-"

"You will not be going to do that... First, that's a stupid reason to do so and second, the British Magical Community is a lot stronger than-" reprimanded Norway. If Karkaroff was actually going to do that, it will just mean more paperwork for him.

"If someone has to complain it should be..." started Moody.

Rose already said what she wanted to say. No children should be allowed to hear more of this absurd conversation but well, she isn't their bloody mother. 

"Well, colour me stalked about the tournament. I'm out of this."

She shouted before slamming the door shut. God, she was too old for this shit. Give her a fucking break. She returned in the almost empty hall, slightly relieved.

"Well! It didn't turn that bad..."

Sitting down next to Pedro, who waited for her, a faked content smile on her face.

"What happened?" he asked, seeing the satisfied grin on his friend's face.

"They're all eating each other alive!" she replied.


"Not really, idiot, that's an expression."

"I know that... Why are you even here anyway! Shouldn't you leave at the same time as the other champions?"

"I don't want to wait for them to finish their stupid quarrel... Seriously, all of these guys are worse than you all."

"Thanks, I guess."

"That wasn't necessarily a compliment but whatever."

"You're upset..." he stated while watching her overthinking.

"Am I?"

"Do you need some tea?"

"... please." she pleaded pitifully as her head knocked on the table.

"Alright forget the tea, I'm going to make you some warm milk... but first, let's get you in your bed, then, you're gonna tell me everything you need to get off. A lot of people care for you, Rosa. Some don't even realize, some won't admit. But I will tell you this until you finally believe me, believe us."

"... P-Pedro..." she cried out while glancing up.

"You're ugly crying."

"I-I'm not c-c-c-crying!" 

"Still as stubborn as ever. Climb on my back, princess, it's a free ride to your private quarters." he kneeled down, letting England accesses to his back.

She didn't know why but seeing the back that Portugal gave her just made her eyes water a bit more. It would be so simple to stab that back. Climbing on it like a child, she hid her face in the crook of his neck, clearly embarrassed and even let out some tears. A few students who were still in the Great Hall gasped and whispered between themselves, but, honestly, she was just sick tired of everyone (including herself)'s shit. She sniffled grossly in Portugal's shirt, drawing a disgusted noise from him. Laughing a bit, she just told herself that, as long as he was there, she wasn't all alone in this big and terrifying world.





Chapter Text

"So what's going on? I leave you for three seconds and you already lost your cool..."

"I'm sorry" Rose replied pathetically.

"Don't worry about it... Now tell me."

Sitting in a pile of blankets and pillows, the female country was clenching tightly on her Paddington plushie and the Union Jack flag. She downed the content of her mug, which Portugal filled up again, and glared at her friend with sheepishness and embarrassment.

"What? Were you drunk?"

"N-No! I wasn't!"

"Yeah, just to be sure. Plus you were sober during the dinner and you can hold your liquor pretty well." he wondered aloud.

"It's just... frustrating. The person who put me in the Cup... why would they want me to participate? I mean, without bragging or anything, I'm a pretty capable witch, I would probably survive this even without my immortality and if the person was at least a bit interested in killing me then she should be aware of this! And if it's someone who found out? Oh my gosh, Pedro, what am I gonna do? No, they should have put my true name if they found out... well, maybe it's just for me to think that they didn't know about my identity? Or is there another Rose Smith in the school and I just stole her place?" she hugged her precious treasures closer while rambling to herself. Her face was getting redder and redder as air slowly escaped her lungs. "Worse.. if they found out about all of yours?! I'm gonna have so many troubles..."

"Woah, calm down, Rosa. You're okay. And it was surely just a prank from one of your students. They didn't know it was actually a pretty bloody thing and put your name without any other reason than their immaturity. It's stupid and you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about that. Let's talk about something else, like-"

"Wait... where is my wand? I'm so dumb... if one of the nations took her... it would explode on their faces. I'm going to have so many problems because of all of you. I'm going to get arrested and all the countries in the whole world will-"

"Slow down Arthur."

"I'm sorry."

"Will you stop excuse yourself all the damn time? You sound like Japan... or a robot if you prefer," he added, not wanting to virtually cause pain to his Japanese friend.



Return to case one. Portugal sighed. She really wasn't like herself when she was crying openly. Most of the time, her tears were silent, like she didn't acknowledge them (like Rose would just let them fall without doing anything, acting like they weren't there. Sometimes, it worked, notably with North Italy, Spain or America or simply with the people who wouldn't look at her while talking. She was bad at a lot of things and taking care of her own health was one of these things. Once in a while, England would simply just explode in tears and switch back to her childish self and excuse herself for all the things she had done or would've done. It was hard to deal with but well... like any other faces of Rose, he liked it. Maybe he was a bit sadistic deep inside of him.

He hugged her and whispered some Portuguese comforting words and guiding her to sleep. It was always hard for her to sleep without taking medicine or simply knocking herself down. When she lived with her brothers, she would usually slip on one of their beds on really hard nights, saying that she didn't want them to cry about some stupid nightmare. Chuckling a little bit, he began to caress her hair while singing softly. Sure, it wasn't as good as her voice and Wales' lullabies but it was enough for her to fall asleep. Smiling a little, he slowly got up and exited the room but not before writing down some cheering words on a letter paper with a big smiley at the end. He dreamed of his comfortable bed and thought:

"Thank god, all of this is over. I can finally sleep."


Oh... How he was wrong.

He returned to the dorms he was sharing with other nations and three angry-looking countries jumped on him. The United Kingdom Bros themselves, A.K.A. the most protective bunch of siblings in the entire planet, literally. No, actually Belarus, Russia, and Switzerland could compete against them. Hong Kong is also a bit aggressive when you approach his "Mum" too much for his taste. Well, England is a bit like that sometimes with her loved ones.

"Where is she?" they asked eagerly.

"In her room, she sleeps soundly. DO NOT WAKE HER UP."

Even if she was his best friend, it was still a pain in the ass to make her sleep.

"What happened? Some students we came across told us that she cried." David said, not mentioning how they managed to take these pieces of information out of them.

"Rose cried?" asked curiously another person, looking genuinely concerned.

"Let me guess, bratty mood?" Scotland said, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Bingo. What happened at the meeting inside the small room, what did they say next?"

"Nothing really important. She shouldn't have insisted, I'm sure that we could have-"

"Connor, you know Rose... she took this threat at heart. It's not just a stupid challenge for her. She knows that something is up and that someone is out for her, she would obviously assist at the tournament to discover the person behind this masquerade! I'm more worried about the stress she is pilling up, her childish fights with France were useful in that way..." David spoke.

"On Christmas Day, I'm going to give her a punching ball."

"We already tried, mate. She destroyed the three first ones and the other... you don't want to know what she'd done with..." Connor shuddered as he said this.

"Inglaterra sure is terrifying."

"You're right... It's already been quite some time and it's still traumatizing to see her paint Francis' face in her targets for her archery practice..." the other person whispered.

"She still does that!?" They exclaimed in unison.

"I've seen one when I last visited her."

"It really surprised me that you didn't lose your memories... Canada."

"Haha, I'm pretty sure she just forgot me."

"It's a bit true. She kinda forgot you..." Scotland assured.

"Ah... well-"

"She didn't put "Canada" on her spell because she put "Matthew Williams" instead."




England woke up earlier than usual. Eyes still a bit red from all the crying, but she felt immensely greater than usual. Pedro really had a soothing personality. Yawning, she looked for her wand and found, with it, a small piece of paper with some words on it. It was Portugal's writing. It made her remember her time as a nation, technically she was still one, but... she didn't assist to the usual meetings, she couldn't write letters to her friends, couldn't give them gifts without them being sent anonymously. Unfolding with a melancholic smile the letter, her eyes brightened as she read the content. Carefully conserving it in a drawer full of goods nations gave her, she got up and look at the window. It was raining but for some reason, she felt really warm.  And for the first time since the beginning of the year, she truly believed in her fate.

She wasn't alone on both sides and she had all the chances to save the champions from their tragic destiny. 

Chapter Text

Days passed and Pedro helped Rose through her duties as a teacher and a champion.

Today was the day of the control of wands (and also the one before Halloween), so Pedro took some of her classes exceptionally with the help of her brothers and the permission of Dumbledore. However, Connor, the voice of reason of the whole the Kirkland family, abandoned the poor Portuguese Country to stay and watch over his little sister, fearing a little the terrible Rita Skeeter. Portugal understood his reasons but couldn't help asking why he ported himself voluntarily to teach History to brats. He sighed, Scotland and Northern Ireland didn't have much patience in them. Hopefully, they would just teach older students. 

England didn't give him any instructions for today, what was he supposed to do. The door opened up, cutting him off from his internal screaming, revealing the unique Kirkland siblings. Scotland was smoking even if it was prohibited, Connor was chasing England with five types of different brushes and cute hair clips, Rose was screaming bloody murder to the latter and David was just smiling at the scene while complaining of all the noises his siblings made. Behind them were a crowd of students.

"Ah... isn't that Harry Potter's class? Great, I think they're old enough to hear some swear words."

After calming his two younger siblings, Scotland cleared up his throat and ordered everyone to sit down and stay silent. Finally remarking her audience, the teacher of the lot straightened herself and pretended that nothing disgraceful happened. Pedro thought to have heard snickers from her brothers, but the glare of Rose shut them up... temporarily.

"Hello everyone. Today is a special day..."

"Like any other day!" continued Wales while smirking.

"And I have some inconveniences so I must..."

"Talk more loudly, I'm sure the kids on the back cannot hear a single word!" Northern Ireland commented.

"So I must..."

"You already said that? Are you retarded?" asked Scotland, looking fakely worried.

"SHUT UP, all of you! Except for you Pedro, of course... As I was saying, later in the lesson I will have to excuse myself because-"

"I have a shooting seance and I have to be-" Portugal mimicked her, a playful grin on display.

"For ****'s sake! Pedro, I trusted you!"

"Well, too bad."

"Argh, whatever. Everyone, take your book p.915, today we're going to talk about-"

"Goblin Wars, like usual." David snorted.

"You know what, fuck you! Today we're talking about-"

"How Scotland destroyed England many times during wars!" added Scotland while grinning like a child.

"That's- Urgh... Today, we're going to talk about... Rose, keep calm-"

"And carry on." Connor finished.

"Exactly, today, we're going to talk about..."

"Al was right... you repeated your sentence three times already!" remarked Portugal.

"Merlin's beard, you guys are insufferable."

"Love you too." replied her friends.

"Since last time I aborded the creation of Hogwarts, let's talk about their founders! The most incredible, great but also terrifying wizards of the world! Aren't you all excited?! I mean.. they are just... really interesting to... study." she calmly finished, regaining her cold posture while feinting a cough. "Can anyone tell me who are they?"

As usual, not many raised their hands. Ronald was, for once, raising his hand, so to encourage him she gave him the right to speak.


"There are Godric Gryffindor... Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and... the infamous Salazar Slytherin." he recited with a grimace the last name.

"Excellent, five points to Gryffindor. However, I do not like the way you pronounce my *friend* fellow Slytherin. Try to not make the same mistake." she said coldly.

"Slytherin or not Miss, you have to admit that he was crazy... most of you are..." he whispered.

Ronald wasn't a bad person and Rose knew that some Slytherins committed horrible crimes. After all, she herself has done some pretty wicked things. Stereotypes couldn't be erased in one day. And well, the competition between the two houses is strong, it's normal for Gryffindors to think like this. Yet, she couldn't help to make a funny face. She let it slide but someone else didn't.

"I do not like the way you talked about your classmates, young boy." 

"Allistair, that's enough," she assured with an awkward smile.

"Weasley, right? I was a Gryffindor too, you know! So, a piece of advice, don't be jealous of the Slytherins just because they are prettier or smarter!" Wales said while laughing, trying to ease the tension but his eyes said it all, he was pissed. "Don't judge a book by his cover... you know all of that stuff."

"Connor... sod off."

"You made a girl upset! And a cute one at that... That's isn't very gentlemanly of you." David added with a wink at Rose.

"Please excuse them, Mr. Weasley."

"So cold, we were just trying to defend you." David pouted.

"Well thank you, I guess. But I can survive the remark of a fourteen years old boy. You're worse than him, you know."

"What makes you say that Rosa?" asked curiously Portugal.

"Lakes, lions, spiders, letters, curses, rabbits, arrows..."

"I don't remember having used rabbits..." Connor wondered.

"I think it's me, I've made her eat rabbit terrine when she was still a baby..." Scotland explained.


"She cried during days and refused to talk to me afterwards..."

"I did not cry, I was just pissed off... Anyway, sod off, all of you! Now Neville, read aloud the first paragraph before any of them decide to get on my nerves!"

Neville nodded and stood up.

"The four founders of Hogwarts were ones of the most fascinating and talented wizards of their time. Godric Gryffindor was known for his short temper, bold and reckless attitude and his acts of justice and courage. Rowena Ravenclaw was smarter than most of the men of the period even though she was a bit snobbish..."

The door slammed wide open and an enthusiast boy came running, a muggle camera around his neck. He was small and a Gryffindor. England facepalmed, the lesson was getting nowhere. Annoyed of the constant interruption, she groaned and pass a hand in her hair.

"What?" she spat out, clearly irritated.

The boy trembled violently when he met the murderous glare of the teacher.

"I-I-It's for the check of the wands!" he replied pitifully.


"The Triwizard Tournament, Miss!"

"Ah, already... Well, Pedro, keep an eye on these. Potter, come with me. Media are fucking frustrating, better to deal with this fast..."

"I come with you, don't forget!" Connor said.

"Eh? Why?"

"Just because I want to!"

"Fine, whatever." she agreed, tired of the antics of her dear brothers.

She guided everyone to the door before closing it. The second it shuts, she thought she heard some funny noises. Brushing them off, she shrugged and walked up a bit to catch up the trio before her. She already had a ton of interviews but she couldn't help but dread it. Feeling the building anxiety of her sister, Connor took her hand tenderly and smiled at her.

"Rose, everything is going to be okay. You know that we won't let anyone talk shit about you, not even a renowned journalist."

"I know, but it's stressing me out anyway," she replied in a whisper, not wanting the two children to hear their conversation.

"Be yourself... Big Brother will take care of the rest."

"Haha, stop talking like this! You sound like France, haha!" she giggled.

"No, it's France who sounds like me. Don't I always come first?" he teased.

"In your dreams, you wanker. But well, I must say, thank you for being here."

"No problems!" he chuckled while ruffling playfully her hair. She smiled brightly before punching him lightly, no matter what happens between them, they will always be siblings. And nothing could do something to change that. 

Chapter Text

She let go of his hand when they arrived in front of the door where a crowd of mediatic people waited impatiently for them. She took a big gulp of breath, everything was going to go smoothly, without any problem. She already invented a story about how she inherited from her ancestor this legendary wand, her ancestor being herself. In contrary to some beliefs, lying was something she does pretty well.  Hey, it wasn't for nothing that she was the country of spies! Colin left shortly after saying cheerfully goodbye to his idol, letting the two champions and the country in front of the door. As she lifted her hands to open the gate, she was abruptly cut by Connor.

"Hey, Rose, shouldn't you change your face?"

"EH? Why would I do that? Harry, wait a bit." she calmly ordered as she remarked her student who just wanted to leave quickly.

"Your head," Connor said.

"What? Do I have something stuck in my hair?"

"No, no! You look perfect... What I am trying to say is that many people will see your face in the newspapers."

"Ah. I see. Don't worry about it" she reassured with a wink "First, they will surely not read something magic-related, I can assure you this, or they will for the fun. And second! I'm pretty good with tricks of the sort, it isn't the first time I used this charm. They won't recognize me! Now that everything is settled, let's go."

"I think you underestimated something though..." her brother muttered.


"... yeah, I think I just- Nothing. Let's go."




Rose was pissed off. What... WHAT THE HELL IS SHE DOING HERE?! Rita Skeeter. Apparently, Connor was informed of her attendance. Well, at least it explained why he absolutely wanted to accompany her during this "fabulous" adventure that is "The Daily Prophet". At the minute she saw her, she swears, she almost regretted to be immortal. Rita wasn't THAT bad but... she was just annoying and you can't get off of her supposed scoops! Hopefully, she forgot her previous interview where she... well. As she prayed in her head, Harry Potter was welcomed by the loud and excited Verpey and greeted from all the sides. 

"ROSE! Darling, what are you doing here?" a high-pitched, feminine voice yelled in surprise.


"M-M-Miss Skeeter! I d-d-do not have the memory to have met you before! Are you sure you aren't mistaking me for someone else?" she stammered while p

"There's no way I would forget eyebrows like yours! Oh, you brought someone with you?"

"H-Hello Miss Rita, my name is Connor, I work as an ambassador for-"

"What a lovely man... Mr.?" she squeaked out, under the natural charm of Connor. Rose silently thanked that Pedro wasn't here.

"Just call me Connor please..."

"Right! Then, here, take this and shoo~! I need to do my job, not to get distracted by pretty boys like you."  she whispered the last part in the ear of Connor, who flushed red, and gave him her professional card.

England seriously thought of punching this woman (and her brother by the same occasion) in the face for flirting with her brother in front of children, but at the same time, it was so fucking hilarious. Anyway, it was a good thing that Miss Skeeter was so familiar with her. As long as she keeps her cool and doesn't do anything too harsh, it will go as expected. But if she does something that could upset the journalist... she was done. The English nation couldn't let leak her true last name to students.

"I'm sorry Miss Skeeter, but, Connor here, really wanted to come and see how an interview worked." 

Ok, that was a terrible lie, but at the moment, it was the only thing she could think of. Or she could have told the journalist that the handsome boy who accompanied her was one of her greatest fans but, Connor will kill her if she does so.

"Oh I'm sorry, my boy... but a great magician never reveals her secrets!"

England mentally face-palmed herself. Well, Connor could have provided both distraction and mental support, but, well, seeing the circumstances.

"Please, Miss Rita! I will-" Connor almost whined.

"That's okay. We understand." she winked at her brother and waited for Rita to go fetch Harry before whispering "You all got my back for the media anyway... I'm going to be okay. If anyone finds out, I will just have to erase their memories. Don't worry about me."

"... Okay. I'll wait for you." he reluctantly agreed.




Rose achieved to convince the talkative journalist to make a group interview instead of wasting time with individual interrogations. As everyone reported their attention to the reporter, the nation pressed a button on her microphone pen. Well, she wasn't the country of spies for nothing. At least, she had proof and could, at any moment blackmailed the poor woman. With a dark smirk, she began to listen more closely to the questions. From now on, nothing could go wrong. Muggle inventions really are useful! She sat behind all the children, hoping secretly that everyone will forget her. After ten minutes of Harry's protests, Rita decided to stop his interview, replacing the Boy-Who-Lived with...

"And you, Miss Rose, why did you in the first place inscribed yourself to the tournament? Don't you have enough of childish hobbies? Or maybe you didn't have anything else to do? Maybe are you interested in the price? Don't you think it's a bit unfair to these kids?"

"Why? Why the hell did you have to- Argh! She isn't going to believe me if I say it's for the kids' safety... let's just go with the flow instead of irritating her. It will go nowhere if I act stubbornly."

"Well... I've always wanted to-"

"And why are you here at Hogwarts? Weren't you wealthy enough at your job in the-"

"Excuse me but we aren't here to talk about my private matters." Rose snapped coldly with glaring."My job as a teacher is purely provisory. I had to get off of some duties of my own. As I was saying-"

"But, as seen in a previous article, your job is easier than most of the jobs..." she replied with a snarky tone.

Rose's eyebrow twitched, how dare she? People these days should really mind their own business. The country was about to reply but something stopped her. She was supposed to be a "gentlemanly" nation. She couldn't put herself down at her level. Forcing a polite smile, she ignored the last comment and waited for the journalist to change of target. When she heard Viktor Krum's stern voice, she felt reassured. Her turn passed. In her mind, she was congratulating herself. 

"I heard that you saved Miss Kirkland..."

"Miss... Kirkland?" he asked curiously.

The girl snapped and suddenly froze. They weren't dumb enough. One of them, at least, had already figured out, and deep down, she hoped that it wasn't Rita.

"Did you mean Miss Smith?" Harry suddenly spoke while pointing his finger at the country.

Everyone looked at her with incredulous eyes. Too late. Almost paralyzed, she tried to think fast. Why didn't she just erase the memories of Rita since the beginning? No, she just had to be stubborn, like always! Automatically, she raised her wand as a reflex. The most dangerous to her identity was the reporter, she would just have to deal with the children later. Gulping down something, she whispered before anyone could register what was happening. She knew she was a bit of a coward but she had to, at all costs, protect her secret face.

"Sorry but... Stupefy!"