Posted in Blogs, Meet My Oc

Meet My Oc: Hetalia Cont. (Dreamtalia)

Ok, I probably shouldn’t do this…but…since I already did one of these for HetaOni, and Dreamtalia is (at the very least, in my opinion) the next HetaOni, I figure this is fitting. This is how the ocs of my friends and I are handling the events of Dreamtalia. I might write a version of Dreamtalia that includes the ocs, or I might not. I’m kinda just doing this for the fun of it.

I’m just picking up right where I left off on the original Meet My Oc for these characters. If you hadn’t read Meet My Ocs: Tokyo, Louisiana, Venice, Naples, and Paris, then it would behoove you to read that first. Otherwise, you might be very confused because I don’t like repeating myself and won’t put down important background info on these characters in this blog.

Really quick, before I forget, the featured image is of Naples (base used by: sweetslayer).

Tokyo, Louisiana, and Paris are informed of what’s going on, being the siblings of Japan, America, and France. Tokyo and Louisiana insist on joining the group in the dream, however, are denied and demanded to stay in the real world and help Paris and Prussia tend wounds and protect the other victims’ real bodies.

Naples and Venice are left in the dark, staying with Spain and Romano for most of the time. It’s not until Romano becomes a victim, falling into a coma, when Spain, Naples, and Venice take him to America’s house, where they hope to get answers from England. That is when Naples finds out what’s truly going on and why her uncle had never returned home. She didn’t get much time to worry before she drifted to sleep to become yet another victim not long after Sealand.

Louisiana and Tokyo would’ve been pushed to enter the dream world after seeing their friend fall victim, however, Spain still took the last of the potion. Louisiana, however, does sneak off to the basement, convinced that she spends enough time with England to know enough magic to make another. Unsurprisingly, she fails miserably. She spends the rest of the time trying to crack the code and make more of the potion. Though Tokyo followed Louisiana at first, she returned to the others after her first attempt, being told that her brother was in need of care.

In the dream world, Naples’ dream comes true and she’s the captain of a pirate ship. Here, though she’s still just as strong, witty, and brave as she is in real life, she isn’t relied on for normal everyday things, and, when she does step in to protect others, she gets acknowledged (or at least a simple thank you). Due to all the roles of the Arcana being filled, she takes the name Sky, for she is free as any cloud in the heavens and beyond. Her guardian is Strength, however, she rejects him for being all brawns, no brains. The Dream Reaper takes the form of Romano. However, much like how when he took the form of America he acted humble while praising Canada for every little thing, the Dream Reaper disguised as Romano is stronger, braver, independent, and loyal. Unlike the real Romano, the fake Romano can hold his own in a fight easily.

The group arrive at her pirate ship right after saving Sealand. The whole time, wandering the ship in search of the captain, Romano wonders who it could be. Of course, by this point, England and Germany have both had enough of this game, and to put simply, are in a really bad mood. Sky zeros in on the real Romano, focusing her fighting to him, viewing him as the fake trying to confuse her. However, Germany, being completely over it, smacks her across the face, scolding her on why the dream is nothing more than just a dream. He then explains what situation they’re all in while the Dream Reaper tries to counter Germany’s words, unable to. Seeing that the Dream Reaper disguised as Romano apparently doesn’t care about the situation and tries to brush it off, she effectively wakes up, ridding herself of the name Sky and accepting her role as Naples. She then apologizes to Romano and explains why her dream is the way it is.

Seeing that the Dream Reaper disguised as Romano apparently doesn’t care about the situation and tries to brush it off, she effectively wakes up, ridding herself of the name Sky and accepting her role as Naples. She then apologizes to Romano and explains why her dream is the way it is. Naples has a secret love of sailing and water, explaining why she’s a pirate captain in her dream. She also wishes for most of all that she wouldn’t be relied on for every little thing. Being the only brave Italian in the family means that she’s always the one to be the grown up, even when she was a child. Rather than be the one foundation for her father, uncle, and cousin, she wishes to be on equal ground, so none of the Italian family is completely dependent on anyone. Naples then guides the group from the ship safely, gaining her level head, however, Romano steps up and keeps pace with her, helping her guide the way by explaining how they got to her.

Once they all make it back to land, the group all decide to leave the ones who were rescued, including Naples. Naturally, she tries to argue that she should go and help save her uncle but goes with the more or less forced plan reluctantly when she’s reminded that her father is being left behind at land as well, returning to the real world when Italy is saved, just like the other victims.

I know it sounds kinda boring, but….that’s about it. Outside from that, the rest of the story continues exactly as it did originally. To sum it up….Naples is the one who has the most sway in the story, being one of the victims, while Paris, Tokyo, and Venice tend to the wounded in the real world and Louisiana tries and fails to make more potion to try and sneak her way in the dream world.

Posted in Blogs, Review

Dreamtalia Review

If you like watching Kyokoon on youtube, you probably have already seen her Let’s Play Dreamtalia series, which was completed recently with a sequel game in the works. I have recently finished watching the last video of her let’s play, so, because the goal of this fan game is to be the “next HetaOni”, I believe I need to give a review. I’m saying this right now, the creators of Dreamtalia have successfully achieved their goal to, not only meet the standards set by HetaOni, but surpass it.

I guess I should start with a summary. Taking place in WW2, the game starts when Italy runs away from Germany to find a pasta plate hidden somewhere in the shrubs. The pasta turns out to be a trap and Italy gets captured by England and America, getting hit on the head so hard he got a concussion. Germany goes to save him and takes him home, where Italy goes to bed to ease his headache. Italy never wakes up. Germany takes Italy back to England and America, demanding them to apologize for causing his concussion and putting him in a coma-like state. However, while there, Germany learns that other people are just dropping in a dead sleep out of nowhere and entering sudden coma states. England explains that it’s the work of the Dream Reaper, and convinces Germany, Japan, America, France, Russia, and China to enter Italy’s dream (via magic) and save all those who have fallen victim. Now the allies and enemies must work together while setting aside their differences to beat the clock and save Italy, and all those who’ve fallen victim before the victims slip too far into their dreams and lose sight of reality; never to reawaken again as their body decays and their minds ascend into their literal dreams-come-true.

Quick side-note: this is your one and only spoiler warning. Watch Kyokoon’s Let’a Play before continuing or continue to read and be spoiled (and no, I’m not making a “spoiler free” version. If you’re looking for a recommendation, then just decide your own opinion from my summary). Also, I’ll be comparing this to HetaOni since this is, again, trying/succeeding in being the next HetaOni.

First, I want to look at the concept. In Dreamtalia, it is life threatening, since all injuries gained from the dream would affect the physical body. That makes it easier to raise stakes while also making it possible for everyone to live. For example, Japan freaks out and the blood vessels near his eyes pop, making him cry blood, both in the dream and in real life. Though it’s ignored by the group in the dream, he is tended to by the Taiwan and Hong Kong and he’s able to be in perfect physical condition quickly. This technique allows the emotional impact of harm or death of a character without really risking the consequence of not being able to use the character anymore. Something else that makes this work is that the real world isn’t seen that much once the characters enter the dream world, so, though the characters talk about the real world, the game doesn’t show what is going on on the outside until it reveals that Prussia abandoned the role of nursemaid and called Hungary, Ukraine, Belarus, Taiwan, Hong Kong, India, Korea, and I think a few others to fill that role while he enters the dream world after them to help fight.

Next, let’s look at the story. As opposed to HetaOni, where the whole thing is just boring in the beginning, sad in the middle, and just a jumbled, confusing mess at the end, Dreamtalia has a really solid plot. All the detours are realistic, for example, one detour they take is they have to save all the victims even though they’re there for Italy, which get’s Germany more and more irritated the more people he has to save before he can even get a confirmation that Italy is alright. They spent most of the time trying to rescue Finland from his endless Christmas, Canada from his false brother, China from the illusion that he’s only loved because he’s high as a kite, Russia from a freaking stabbing, Austria from (…well, actually Austria is apparently a lucid dreamer so he didn’t need saving from anything), Romano from…you know, I think you get the point. A lot of people are in need of help, who they just so happen to come across while on their wild goose chase for Italy. While there are a lot of detours, they all are natural and force Germany to need to be tactful and patient while searching. All the while, it builds the team together and forces Germany and Japan to have more trust in the Allies, specifically England, Russia, and China.

While I’m on it, let’s go over the character interactions. In HetaOni, all the characters already treat one another like long-standing friends, and in some cases, broke character, especially Italy and Germany. In Dreamtalia, however, all the characters are very natural and don’t trust one another at first. It’s even pointed out quite a few times, in the beginning, Japan questions why they’re even at a meeting with their enemies, then again, later on, England asks Germany if he trusts him and the answer is a blunt, “No, I don’t”. However, if you go the bad ending, then when they all wake up except for Italy, England apologizes to Germany.

All of the character interactions are very believable, however…when it comes to Japan’s miniature character arc…he’s a little out of character. After seeing all the damage they are doing to this world, and watching the Arcana, servants of the Dream Reaper who take forms of their friends and family, all die, Japan breaks down making an unnecessary detour. He begs them to kill him and has to be held down by the German Brothers to calm down. However, because he turns into a zombie and just does whatever he’s told, China and Canada keep Japan away from Germany. It actually feels like a-whole-lot-of-pointless (I do admit that it is a little humorous when they meet the Arcana who masquerades as England and his head get’s literally turned around and Japan blames it on the fact that his eyes are playing tricks on him).

Another thing I want to talk about it England’s antagonistic behavior. Though most people think this is out of character, I actually believe his character is still unbroken. Let’s take a look at everything going through England’s mind throughout the game. In the beginning, England is dealing with being at a major disadvantage, trying to save Canada without knowing he isn’t the host dreamer. After calling a meeting, he’s made fun of for giving a magical answer to a supposed medical problem. Then, once they enter Italy’s dream, England has to talk sense to Finland, who is currently not in his right mind and in a dream of Christmas every day. At the same time, he has to keep Germany from destroying their chances to get answers from the Dream Reaper (which Germany does anyway). Then, when they get to China Town, England has to be partnered with Germany, someone who he doesn’t trust at all and doesn’t trust him one bit. By the time he starts being irritable, antagonistic, and short, England is simply done with doing things slowly. To him, they’ve wasted enough time with China, Japan, Germany, the Arcana, and freeing all the other victims while the host, Italy, is still in need of saving; if ignored for too long, not only would Italy be lost, but (as far as I understand) all the other victims would be more likely to fall victims again. So yeah, I understand England being a little short-tempered half way through to the end.

To sum it all up, Dreamtalia is one of the best games I’ve ever seen a Let’s Play for (since as of writing this blog, the complete game is unavailable for the public to play). I think it’s not only as good as HetaOni, but it’s better. It’s got a few tear jerkers, and unsettling ideas and themes, but it’s one of the most solid stories I’ve seen in a fan game. I wish God-Speed to the creators to finish the sequel. I’m simply excited to see what happens to the characters and how they fix the problem that snuck its way from the dream world. As of now, there are just a few hints in the epilog and a preview for the sequel. It looks like it’ll be centered around America, but I’m excited and hyped to see how they make it right.

Watch the Let’s Play (link at the top) yourself or play it on DeviantArt. Though I’m sure it isn’t the full version, the full game would show up there eventually, I’m sure! If you’ve already seen/played Dreamtalia, then what’s your opinion? Did you love it? Hate it? Do you think the creators succeeded in surpassing the HetaOni place, or is there still something to be desired? Leave your thoughts in the comments below and have a beautiful rest of your day~!

Posted in How to Train Your Villain, Stories

Step 4; Declare yourself a Hero!

This time, when Arthur made the journey to Alfred’s house, Oliver and Francis joined him. The Frenchman didn’t have a good feeling about this plan; wanted to be sure his younger brother was alright, him having the title of Big Brother of Europe.

They made it to their destination and knocked on the door. Alfred opened the door before he slammed it shut and locked the bolt. “NO ONE’S HOME!” he called as he pushed the door shut in case the lock failed.

“Open the door you bloody git!” Arthur scolded as he attempted to turn the knob.

Seeing the door shut, Oliver lightly pushed Arthur aside. “Allow me.” Pulling out a small kitchen knife, he wedged it in between the door and the frame, twisting, pulling, and tugging the door open. Seeing it not working, he took his knife back and slid it in the keyhole with a paperclip he found in his pocket. It took many tedious moments of listening, but they heard the bolt slowly turn.

Alfred felt his blood pumping right against his throat, nearly chocking him. Sweat beaded his face. The knob turned and Oliver started to creek the door open.

Seeing it open, Arthur and Oliver both pushed the door open as Alfred fought to keep it shut. ‘Just a little more.’ he thought to himself. ‘If I can just get this door closed for just a second, I can lock it again. Then, while they deal with that, I can get Allan and get out. I gotta keep them away from him, or he might crack!’

Allan came out of the guest room of the home after pausing his game. “What the hell is going on?!” he shouted. “I was just about to shoot enough people to level up!” He looked up with his blood red eyes and saw his counterpart in high distress.

Upon hearing the dark American, Oliver stopped pushing the door open and stood straight. Arthur stopped as well, making Alfred stop and listen. The sound of maniacal laughter filled the otherwise dead silent air. “…Come out Allan~” Oliver’s voice chuckled.

Arthur and Francis looked over at the Englishman as he looked up with wide baby blue eyes, hot pink swirling in a continuous whirlpool of insanity. In a flash, Oliver spun around, took Francis by the sleeve, and pulled him close, holding him close by his shoulders. He pressed his knife right at his stubbly jaw. “Arthur told me you want to be a hero~” he squeaked, his voice nails on an old chalkboard. “Rule number one, poppet, heroes save everyone!”

Arthur took a step forward and growled at his deception. “Oliver, you little-“

“Ah-ah!” the lunatic warned. “One move from any of you 1ps, and…” He let his knife complete the sentence for him as the bright crimson blood dribbled down the blade; the blood that was once flowing undisturbed in the Frenchman’s veins. Francis could only try to stay still. “Alfred, be a good little boy, and open the door so I can talk to my little brother~”

“Don’t Alfred!” Francis called. “We are the ones at fault for bringing him here!”

“Stop it you bloody frog!” Arthur scolded. “Do you want to live? Open the door Alfred!”

The two Americans didn’t know what to do. Alfred looked to Allan for guidance. Allan gave Alfred the same desperate look. He could already tell that Oliver lost it; it was obvious in the laugh that was heard beyond the wooden door.

“What’s it going to be, poppet~?” Oliver asked. “Stay there like a coward, or come out and be the villain you were born to be?”

Allan’s breathing stopped. He wanted so desperately to be a hero, but he’s been a villain for as long as he could remember. Only one thing was for sure, he was no coward. “Open the door.” he growled at the blonde American. Unsure what he was going to do, Alfred complied and opened the door.

On the porch, Francis’ eyes strained to see anything but the deceptive bright skies above them, and Oliver held him there with his swirling eyes growing wider in insanity at the sight of the American he searched for as Arthur inched past the threshold inside the American home. While one of the madman’s hands kept the knife at the Frenchman’s throat, Oliver raised his other hand with his index finger extended on the other hand. At the very tip of the finger was a pair of square, black sunglasses.

Allan took in a deep breath and started to walk out. “I don’t want a fight, Oliver.” he stated calmly. “Just let the goody-two-shoes 1p go.”

Oliver hummed in mocking consideration. “How about…no~!” he smiled. “You need a reminder of who you are; where you come from. I need some more French Flesh for my cupcakes for Christophe’s birthday coming up~!”

Francis’ bold blue eyes grew wide at the sound of that, but he tried to keep his whimpers silent. Allan glared at his childhood caretaker. “I know exactly who I am, and where I came from.” he growled as he reached for the baseball bat that collected dust against the wall. Though the nails were gone, they still left stray splinters all over the end where the nails originally were, and the dark, dried blood still wasn’t completely cleaned off, though the bat was still much less bloody than it was a day ago.

“Where did I come from?” he asked, coming closer to the pink and blue Brit. Oliver, now seeing the rage of the American, quickened his breathing. The knife in his fist started to slightly shake. The sunglasses that dangled on his fingertip slipped down to the concrete he stood on. “Alfred took a potion, split in two, and the other half became me.”

The American started to tower the Englishman as Oliver’s grip got looser and his eyes slowly lost their sense of happy-go-lucky. “Who am I?” Allan growled. He suddenly took his bat and smashed down on Oliver’s head with full force, which was enough to make a large dent in the skull. Upon impact, Oliver let Francis go and crossed his blue eyes to look at the bat. “I’m the hero, you bastard.” Allan took one more step closer to Oliver to enjoy the pure shock and fear in the bright blue eyes tinted slightly in pink. Beneath his grey sneaker, the black sunglasses cracked and the lenses shattered under his weight.

Allan lifted his leg and kicked the Brit in his chest, freeing his bat from the mess of blood coated blonde hair. Large, deep splinters stuck out from the cave in as the bat accepted the blood from it’s last victim. The bright crimson dribbled down the wood that was now rested over Allan’s shoulder. Oliver fell to his knees and dropped on his face frozen in shock and a hint of fear.

Looking down at his bat, the impact stripped the weapon of the stray splinters; it looked to be smooth enough to run bear fingers over it, though there were small holes and scars on the wood. His red eyes were brought back down to the square, black sunglasses that laid next to the cold, pale index finger. The frames were completely crushed and the lenses were practically turned into dust.

Alfred, Arthur, and Francis still stared at the growing pool of blood on the porch that oozed from Oliver’s sadistic brain. Allan simply smiled coldly at the corps, small silver tears leaking down his face. He looked down at his hands stained in the Brit’s crimson blood, small tears landing in his palm and washing the red stains away. Though blood stained Allan’s hands, he has never been cleaner.

Posted in How to Train Your Villain, Stories

How to Train Your Villain Author’s Note

I know this is a short chapter story, but, like I said earlier, I hold a lot of pride in this. The story How to Train Your Villain started off as a joke, but actually turned into a school Creative Writing Archetype project. I hold so much pride because this was the first story where I tried taking a villain and giving him the Hero’s Journey arc, while keeping his personality and taking creative liberties, such as the assumption that Allan is a baseball fan due to him always carrying a baseball bat. I promise, I’ll

I promise I’ll have more oc stories up, but I’m biding my time to prepare for a REALLY big and long story. Though How to Train Your Villain has a lot of pride, it’s not my most prideful, that place is reserved for the story in preparation.

Posted in How to Train Your Villain, Stories

Step 3; Violent Video Games

Back at Alfred’s house, he and Allan thought things were going well as the blonde taught him the wonders of violent video games. “See?” he asked. “Now, if you feel angry about something, and you wanna beat that dude to a pulp, just turn to these games to vent out your anger!”

DIE!” Allan screamed in joy as he shot a character on the screen repeatedly. Once the character was dead, he let out a happy, content sigh and looked over at the hero. “What was that?”

Alfred smiled widely, his blue eyes containing bright night stars, gleaming in the TV light that illuminated the 3D computer generated bloody dead body of the character Allan just killed. With a gasp and widening grin, Alfred lunged over and squeezed Allan in a hug. “I can’t believe it~!” he sobbed. “My student is learning so fast~!”

“GET OFF ME!” the red-eyed American shoved his counterpart away from him.

To this, the blue-eyed American chuckled nervously. “…Right. Baby steps. Sorry bro.”

Allan shrugged. “It’s alright I guess.” he sighed as the two returned to their video game.

In the midst of the gun shots, animated people screaming, and the clicking of the controllers, the door slammed open. The green eyes of the visitor grew wide in disbelief and the thick, unkept, black eyebrows raised high in shock. “…So…it’s true…”

“Artie!” Alfred cried as he paused the game, jerked on the lights, and glared at his former caretaker. “There’s this thing called knocking! You should try it!”

Arthur glared over at Allan. “What have you done to him, you monster?!” he shouted, completely ignoring the American beside him.

Allan sat there frozen. In his mind, he replaced the critical green eyes with sadistic baby blue ones. He replaced the mop of yellow hair with slightly messy strawberry blonde hair. He replaced the unkept black eyebrows with neatly trimmed light eyebrows. He replaced Arthur with Oliver.

“Artie stop it!” Alfred came to his counterpart’s defense. His thin blonde brows furrowed in frustration. “Allan just needs a little help! He didn’t do anything to me!”

“Of course you’d say that!” Arthur shot back. “You’re the one brainwashed!”

“WHAT?!” The American was confused and offended by this. “Where’d you get THAT idea?!”

“Kiku told me.” the Brit answered gruffly before he turned to the other man in the room with crossed arms. “What did you do? Give him Oliver’s cupcakes?”

“Artie! I’m-”

“Or did you knock him out with that bat of yours?”

“Stop it! Can’t you-”

“Oh wait, I know! You and Oliver hypnotized him!”

“I DIDN’T DO ANY OF THAT!” Allan exploded, clutching his head. “I’m not bad anymore. I’m good. I’m not a villain anymore. I’m a hero.”

Hearing this, Arthur straightened his back and narrowed his eyes at the 2p. “…We shall see about that…” He turned around and walked out to his car.

As Arthur marched through the halls of his home to his basement, Francis stumbled after him, trying to stop him. After meeting with him shortly after the Brit returned home, he told him his full intentions and this scared the Frenchman to death. “Arthur! Think about what you are doing for once in your life!”

“I know exactly what I’m doing.” Arthur calmly replied, flipping the magical black cloak over his shoulders and popping the hood over his head. “Nothing can go wrong.”

“But to summon Oliver? Your own counterpart?” the elder blonde sighed. “You know how cunning he is. He seems happy on the outside, but, as Kiku would say, he is a true Yandere! He out of his mind!”

“I am perfectly well aware that he is mentally unstable.” Arthur pushed him aside as he flipped through his spell-book. “But, he and Allan share a similar, if not exactly the same, past as Alfred and I.” he reasoned. “I am willing to bet sterling that Oliver would do the same if the situation was reversed.”

Francis furrowed his brows and crossed his arms. “I’m not sure that statement helps your cause, mon ami.”

With that, Arthur brewed the potion as Francis tried to change his mind to no avail. When the liquid was complete, the green-eyed Brit took a ladle full of the liquid and chugged it down before he could change his mind. It wasn’t until the effects were complete and Arthur split into two full bodies, one of which taking the form of the strawberry blonde, when he thought it might not be a good idea.

Oliver smiled a sweet smile at the two men in the basement he found himself in. “Francis, Arthur, it’s been far too long.” he purred. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have much time to chat, poppet. Allan is missing and has been since yesterday afternoon.”

“We know where Allan is.” Arthur stated before the baker could leave. “As a matter of fact, that’s the reason behind this unexpected call.” As Oliver looked back at them, Arthur raised a pair of black sunglasses in the view of the large baby blue eyes.

The Brit bearing bright colors raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening…”

Posted in How to Train Your Villain, Stories

Step 2; Social Life

Alfred and Allan walked down the side-walk side by side, though the moment people saw the brunette, disregarding the change in attire, they cleared the streets. “What’s next on the list?” Allan asked.

“Well, we fixed your cloths, and your bat, now, I teach you how to hold a conversation.” Alfred stated. “A hero can’t be a hero if he’s known as…well…you. You have to prove to everyone that you’re changing, you’re fixing your act, you’re not the same person that just got out of prison a month ago.”

“Two months.” he huffed. “They let me out early for kissing their a-I mean-good behavior.”

Alfred smiled widely. “See?” he laughed. “You’re already changing for the better!”

Allan smiled at the complement as he moved his black sunglasses over the brim of his hat. “So, where are we going?”

“We’re going to visit my good friend, Kiku!”

The former villain looked at his companion oddly. “…Kiku…Kiku…I’m sorry, who?”

“Sorry dude.” the hero laughed, patting his shoulder. “You might know him better as ‘Koru’. For a second, I completely forgot where you were from!” The two walked up to the porch of their destination and knocked on the door. “Yo! Kiku! It’s me!”

The door opened to a short man with short black hair and a forced smile on his face. “Mr. Alfred.” he greeted.

His dull brown eyes fell on the brunette next to the blonde and the door was shut. Allan glared at the door as Alfred chuckled nervously and knocked again. “Kiku! Don’t worry, bro! Allan’s with me!”

Again, Kiku opened the door, though much slower and more hesitant than before. “W-why not you p-please come in?” he stuttered, sliding to the side with caution with his hand not leaving the katana he strapped to his side. “Would you and your…f-friend care for some tea Mr. Alfred?”

“Sure!” the blonde smiled as he sat on the couch, oblivious to the awkward atmosphere. “We’d love some, right Allan?”

The counterpart looked over at Alfred’s blue eyes that glistened like the seas that surrounded his land (I guess that’s why the lyrics are “from sea to shining sea”) with uncomfortable pools of bloody crimson. Even though the blonde was an idiot, he was his only hope if he ever wanted to be seen as more than just a criminal who can’t last a year outside prison. Even as a child, Oliver taught him if someone makes you mad, make them suffer. If they die, you save energy from needing to make them suffer again. He nodded. “Right. Tea. Nice.”

Sitting on the couch with Alfred, Allan took in a deep breath. “Don’t be nervous.” the blonde smiled at his counterpart. “Kiku is the perfect place to start! Already, he can see that you’re trying, otherwise, he wouldn’t let you in.”

Kiku started to brew the tea in the kitchen before he migrated over to the phone. “…Hello, Sir Arthur Kirkland?” he asked in the phone. “…Let everyone else know that there’s a meeting here in Tokyo this afternoon…No, don’t tell Mr. Alfred. The meeting is about him.” On that note, he hung up and continued with the visit.

That afternoon, after Alfred and Allan left, Kiku rushed to the meeting hall in Tokyo to find the six other men he had to see. “Can I have everyone’s attention?” he called over their yelling and chaotic fighting. “Please! This is an emergency!”

“EVERYONE SHUT UP!” a large buff blonde screamed, his cold blue eyes glaring at the group intimidatingly, silencing the whole room. When everyone was seated, the man turned to Kiku. “All yours, my friend.”

Kiku took his place at the head of the table, giving his friend a nod. “Arigato Mr. Ludwig.” With that, the short Japanese man turned to the group of men from around the world and bowed his head. “Apologies for requesting you all come here on such short notice.” he stated quickly before standing straight to face the men. “But I had to share my concerns for Mr. Alfred.”

“Why didn’t you want Alfred here?” a thin man with a yellow mop of hair and thick, black eyebrows asked. “What did you mean when you said ‘the meeting is about him’ over the phone?”

Kiku took in a deep breath. After a moment, he took a pair of black sunglasses out of his pocket and tossed them in the center of the table. At the sight of the glasses, everyone lept from their seats and backed away to the walls like the glasses were a nuclear.

“Are you crazy Kiku?!” a lean man with long blonde hair and stubble lining his jaw exclaimed. “How can you THINK of bringing that here?!”

“That’s a valid question, Francis.” Arthur chuckled nervously, standing flat on the far wall. “What the bloody hell were you thinking?!”

“I’m scared!” A small man with short auburn hair and shut eyes clung to Ludwig’s side. “Please tell me those aren’t the same glasses I think they are!”

“Calm down, Feliciano.” Ludwig wavered. “I-I’m sure Kiku has a perfectly well explanation for this.”

Across the room, the small Chinese man with his long black hair in a ponytail completely lept in the large Russian man’s arms, the two of them making the perfect Scooby Dooby Doo couple. “Ivan! T-th-that’s-Those are-”

“I know Yao!” Ivan exclaimed, uncharacteristically shaking in his Russian winter boots.

Seeing everyone in high distress, Kiku sighed and took the glasses back in his hand. “I just saw Mr. Alfred with his counterpart earlier today.” he stated. “I believe Mr. Alfred has been brainwashed in some way.”

Hearing this, Arthur thought for a moment, still too stressed to take his seat. “…Well, I do remember when Oliver got into my magical potions and used a mind stripping potion I’ve been working on for his cupcakes.”

Feliciano, completely forgetting about the problem he was presented with, smiled happily, looking at the Englishman with glimmering golden honey drop eyes. “I remember that~! Oliver was so sweet and happy~!”

To this, Ludwig crossed his arms. “You only remember that because you ate that whole cupcake!”

“If those were really Allan’s glasses,” Francis stuttered. “Does that mean…Christophe, and Max, and Oliver, and the rest of them are coming here as well?”

“We can only assume so.” Kiku stated. “We all remember what happened last time they all came.” The whole room was silent as they all sank in the memory of the 2p’s last ‘visit’. “We cannot allow that, or anything similar to happen again.”

“Ja,” Ludwig sighed. “But last time, Luciano came first and completely replaced Feliciano. You said you saw Alfred and Allan earlier today?”

The Japanese man nodded. “The problem is that they seemed to be…friends.”

“If Alfred joins their side,” Yao gasped. “Then, we wouldn’t stand much of a chance!”

“With Alfred’s superhuman strength, no doubt that will tip the balance far more than it already is just by Allan being here and not in his own realm!” Arthur reasoned.

“It must be their plan to get Alfred on their side.” Ivan agreed. “It only makes since.”

“So, we are all in agreement?” Kiku asked. “Alfred and Allan must be dealt with now.” For the first time ever, the vote was unanimous.

Posted in How to Train Your Villain, Stories

Step 1; Appearance

“So…what are we looking for?” Allan asked as he watched Alfred dig through his closet.

“I’m looking for better cloths!” he answered. “You can’t go around in a white t-shirt and ripped light blue jeans and that brown jacket with blood all over it, and expect everyone to see you as a hero, or even as a normal guy.”

The brunette shrugged. “…What can I say?” he asked. “Blood from my more recent victims drip from my bat on my cloths.” he answered as he swung his bat to the other shoulder.

Alfred looked back at him with an arched brow. “…On that note…it would be better if you at least clean your bat and take out those rusty, crocked nails.” Though he was a little reluctant, Allan grabbed a hammer and started to pry the nails out of the wood. He was about half way done when his 1p came out of the closet with cloths in his hands. “Here you go~! They should fit just fine, they fit me, and we’re practically the same person~!”

Allan sent him a glare. “…Except, I’m the exact opposite as you.”

In return, he playfully smirked and tossed the cloths to him. “Just try it on.”

The red eyed American looked at the cloths picked out for him as Alfred left the room and closed the door. In his hands was a blue t-shirt with a big red ‘S’ on the chest and a pair of hole less dark blue jeans. He was also given grey sneakers. With a sigh, he started to take off his jacket and pull his white shirt over his head.

After looking in the mirror, Allan huffed. “It doesn’t look right.” he stated. “Maybe I should see what Alfred has to say about it. He is my ‘teacher’ after all.” He left the room to see Alfred waiting in the hallway.

The blonde scratched his chin in deep thought, circling his 2p. After several moments, he shook his head. “No.” With that one word, he pushed past him and began to dig in his closet once again. “You need a different shirt!… And maybe a cap!” After he threw more cloths at Allan to change into, he once again left the room and shut the door. Allan looked at the shirt and cap in his hands, a small smile on his lips. In his hands was a white baseball shirt with red trimming. On the back it had an ‘A’ with a halo. The same icon was on the front of the cap.

As he changed into the new shirt, he remembered that he used to love baseball as a kid. Oliver used to take him to games all the time back when they were close…

“I’m going to get a ball this time!” Allan exclaimed, enthusiasm sparkling in his red eyes.

“If you do, I’ll go down there and get it signed by the batter just for you!” Oliver promised as the game went on. “If they refuse to sign, I’ll just have to offer a cupcake in exchange~!” he stated, holding up the blue and pink mini cake with unspeakable ingredients inside.

Allan nearly caught ever ball that came his way, but every time it was just out of his reach, right at the tip of the mitt. After some time, he slumped in disappointment. “I’m never going to catch a ball.” he whined. Just then, as he started to take his mitt off, the palm facing up, a ball flew over the audience, hit Allan on the head, and bounced in the mitt. He stared at the ball in his hand in disbelief and excitement as he waved it in his care taker’s face. “Look Oliver! I knew I could catch one!”

…But then, as time passed, Oliver got clingy, and Allan demanded his space from him. After Oliver refused, he moved away from him, and they were never as close again.

As he pulled on his jacket, Allan headed out to the hall once again with a genuine smile on his face. Alfred circled him again before he took the jacket and pulled it off. “If you’re going to wear a jacket, it’s gotta be at least a bloodless jacket that doesn’t look like it was made by a blind seamstress.” The brunette took a deep breath before he relaxed again, letting go of the anger he had at the fact that someone made fun of his jacket. “Other than that, get your bat fixed, and you’re good to go!”

Posted in How to Train Your Villain, Stories

How to Train Your Villain: Hetalia Fan Fiction

Another story I first wrote quite a while ago. However, I think this is quite a bit more powerful than the last chapter story I posted. There are only a few chapters, so I’ll only post the prolouge today and wait til next week for chapter 1, but it’s kinda long to put all in one post.

All Alfred wanted to do was have a lazy day with his TV and ice cream. The last thing he expected was to become the trainer, guidance, and protector of the greatest supervillain he’s known. Now, Alfred must teach his evil twin the wonders of being a hero while also be his shield from temptations.

Posted in How to Train Your Villain, Stories

Prolouge; Wish for a Villain

Alfred didn’t want to do too much today. All he wanted to do was sit on his couch, watch TV, play video games, and eat ice cream…but, what he wanted to do and what he did do are two completely different things. If he spent the day doing what he wanted, then this wouldn’t be much of a story, now, wouldn’t it?

He started to watch TV, lazily channel flipping, when he heard a ring from his doorbell. With a sigh, Alfred got up, opened the door, then slammed it shut, running under his bed with Mr. Pillow. “Go away!” he yelled to the door before he heard impatient banging.

“Come on Alfred! Open the door!” the visitor yelled. “You don’t even know why I’m here!”

“I don’t care!” he yelled back. “Just go away!”

“Alfred! I want to be a hero!”

That phrase caught the blonde’s attention as he steadily re-approached the door. “…What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m sick and tired of always ending up in prison!”

Alfred bit his lip as he slowly reached for the knob and opened the door. “Why come to me?” he asked.

The brunette with eyes that were a combination of Fourth of July red and fresh bloody crimson at his doorstep sighed. He set down his bat with rusty nails crudely hammered in the stripping wood and coated in the sickening dark cinnamon color of dried blood. Small droplets of the liquid dangled on the nails closer to the brighter red from the fresh kill. “You’re the exact opposite of me. Everyone else would kill me if they found out I came to you for help because being goody-two-shoes and heroes that ride off in the sunset on a white horse with a damsel in distress in our arms…willingly in our arms, hasn’t been our style.”

“…What’s your point?”

“I’d rather be on a white horse in a sunset than a metal bed chained to a brick wall.”

After a moment’s thought, Alfred steadily and hesitantly opened the door wider for his guest. “…I guess…come on in Allan… But if you try anything like last time, then I’m calling Artie! I have him on speed dial, and he’ll send you right back where you came from!”

“…As long as you don’t tell Oliver, I’d never hear the end of it then.” Allan huffed. After a moment of awkward silence, the villain sighed. “Look, Al, can I call you Al?”


“Look Al, I’m sorry about trying to take your place last Christmas…and for handcuffing your girlfriend to her bed three months ago…and that whole thing where Oliver and I kinda beat you and Arthur and enslaved you in mirrors, sorry for that too…and also that time when I spiked your coffee with some of Oliver’s special cupcake ingredients…and that one time I-”

“That was you?!” Alfred yelled. “I had to go to the hospital because of my ‘unknown illness’! Do you know how much was on the bill I got?!”

Allan, for the first time in his life, had a look dripping in guilt and shame. “…That’s why I’m apologizing.” he stated. “So we can start over with a clean slate.” The blonde American furrowed his brows as he scratched his chin in thought. In the silence, Allan began to sweat in nervousness. ‘What’s that word people say when they really want something and begging for it?’ he asked himself. ‘I think it starts with a ‘P’…’Pickle’? No. That’s not it, not even close.’ He continued to run random ‘P’ words through his head, not even noticing that he was mumbling under his breath. “P-Puh-Pl-Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease.”

Hearing him say something, Alfred looked at him oddly. “…What did you say?”

“…Please help me…” the 2p mumbled quickly.

The hero smiled and patted Allan’s shoulder. “Seeing as how you want it so bad, alright. We’ll start fresh and I’ll teach you how to change your ways!”

Posted in Stories

Se Tu M’ami: Hetalia Fan Fiction

(Author’s Note: Warning, slight cursing. If you’re a Hetalia fan, you know why.)

I stood in the shower. There was no point in the shower, I just needed my face wet of something other than my own salty tears.

“Se tu m’ami~” I sang in the small bathroom.

“Se tu sospiri~ Sol per me, gentil pastor~” I didn’t understand why I was singing.

“Ho dolor de’ tuoi martiri~ Ho diletto del tou amor~” I sang this song in a competition, and that competition was over and done.

“Ma se pensi che soletto~ Io ti debba riamar~” But though the song is meant to be playful and flirtatious, I sang with tears mixing in with the shower water.

“Pastorello, sei soggetto~ Facilmente a t’ingannar~” My breath was choppy.

“Pastorello, sei soggetto~ Facilmente a t’ingannar~ Facilmente a t’ingannar~” My way of singing wasn’t even close to how it should be.

“Bella rosa porporina~ Oggi Silvio scegliera~” This was the only part of the song that possibly knew what I wanted to portray.

“Con la scusa della spina~ Doman poi la sprezzera~ Doman poi la sprezzera~” ‘Because the rose is thorny, soon they’ll all be thrown away’.

“Ma degli uomini il consiglio~ Io per me non seguiro~” ‘I will not follow the advice of men’.

“Non perche mi piace il giglio~ Gli altri fiori sprezzero~” ‘I want the rose, but shall I scorn to pluck the fair?’ I felt as though I was the rose I was singing about, cast away, unwanted. Still, I sang in a loop as I stood under the pounding water.

“Se tu m’ami~

“Se tu sospiri~

“Sol per me, gentil pastor~

“Ho dolor de’ tuoi martiri~

“Ho diletto del tou amor~

“Ma se pensi che soletto~

“Io ti debba riamar~

“Pastorello, sei soggetto~

“Facilmente a t’ingannar~

“Pastorello, sei soggetto~

“Facilmente a t’ingannar~

“Facilmente a t’ingannar~

“Bella rosa porporina~

“Oggi Silvio scegliera~

“Con la scusa della spina~

“Doman poi la sprezzera~

“Doman poi la sprezzera~

“Ma degli uomini il consiglio~

“Io per me non seguiro~

“Non perche mi piace il giglio~

“Gli altri fiori sprezzero~”

I really only entered the competition to prove to myself that I could really do anything. I did it as a test of my own abilities. That’s why I chose such a difficult song. The results, however, were a major slap in the face. I worked so hard, juggled with sickness, depression, school work, and a job. I spent several weeks in a small little practice room with nothing but a piano, a recorder, and my sheet music. For many days, I thought I would go insane until I would get a call from my papa, Lovino Vargas, that was a warning that he was at the school and I would be in trouble if I didn’t get to the car soon. I was told by my choir director and privet voice teacher that I could come out of the competition with a superior rating, a “1st prize” you might say.

I didn’t bring home the gold, though.

All I got was silver.

Second best.

The night of the contest, February 20th, my papa swore to me that I would be in trouble later for not making sure my uncle, Feliciano Vargas, knew exactly where I needed to be dropped off to compete, therefore making me late for the contest.

He had to walk with me all over the school that hosted the competition just so we could find my room. When we got there, he took my phone, complained that the battery was almost dead again, and told me to stand around the corner to practice and warm up my voice while he stood at the corner and called my uncle, telling him where to move the car, and we waited for my turn in the room.

When it was time for me to go in the room, my papa wished me luck and I went in as a bundle of nerves. “Hello, my name is Justine Vargas, I will be preforming Se Tu M’ami by Alessandro Parisotti.” I gave my introduction. With a deep breath, I gave the piano player a glance and nod before singing the song.

My papa, who wasn’t allowed in the room with me, leaned on the door and listened. I didn’t know, however, until I glanced over and saw him in the window of the classroom door during the short piano bridge of the song before the repeat of the A section.

I finished, and the judge looked me in the eye and asked, “What is this song about?”

I froze. “…The poetic idea behind the song is…a woman loves a man, but she loves other men too…?”

The judge nodded and wrote something down before asking, “What does ‘Ma se pensi che soletto Io ti debba riamar’ mean?”

I hung my head in shame. I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t even remember where in the song I sang that. I tried to remember what my music said, what the poetic words were, but I was coming up blank. That’s…in the A section, second page, measure…15 that she’s talking about, I think. The lyrics of the whole page are ‘Ho dolor de’ tuoi martiri, Ho diletto del tou amor, Ma se pensi che soletto, Io ti debba riamar, Pastorello, sei soggetto, Facilmente a t’ingannar’. ‘Ho dolor de’ tuoi martiri, Hor diletto del tou amor’ means ‘Though I’m sad for you afflictions, and I’m glad for your affections’, and ‘Pastorello, sei soggetto, Facilmente a t’ingannar’ means ‘Gentle friend be not deceived, I could never love on you alone’, but what was between that? I asked myself desperately.

“It means,” the judge stated, seeing that I was taking too long to answer. “’If you think I must love you in return, you’re mistaken’.” she answered. “You have a beautiful voice, a strong song, have fun with it. You should have had a twinkle in your eye when you sang those lines.” I only could nod as I dismissed myself and went out the door.

When I got in the hall, my papa hugged me tight. “Don’t worry about a damn thing.” he reassured me. “You were great ragazza.”

I pulled away from him only to be hugged by my choir director. “That was the most beautiful you’ve ever sang.” she commented. “I don’t cry easy over singing, but I’m crying! This is a big deal! That should be a One hands down. Results would be up by Monday. Look for your One and medal.”

“You see?” my papa stated. “You’re director knows what she’s talking about for a change.” He then took me in his arm and walked me out the nearest door. When we got to the car, my uncle asked how it was and my papa told him I blew the other kids out of the water, mentioning that even my director was brought to tears by my ‘amazing performance’.

I only stared out the window, not thinking quite the same thing. Was reciting the English lyrics the difference between a Two and a One?

It was.

Two days later, I got an email from my choir director saying that I got a Two, though she mentioned that it should’ve been a One. She tried to convince me through the email that I was really good and I shouldn’t let it get to me, like she knew exactly how I would react to seeing the result. My eye’s didn’t process the words however. I only wanted to get my face wet and wash off the sticky, salty tears that ran from my eyes down my chin, dripping onto my shirt, and make a loud noise to cover my choppy breaths and sobs. So, I hurried to the shower, not even acknowledging my papa and uncle who saw me rush to the bathroom.

Over half an hour later, I left the shower and slipped into a robe. I never bothered to dry my face so that I could have an excuse for if they ask if I’ve been crying. Tying the belt of the robe, I opened the door. Much to my surprise, my papa was standing right there with his arms crossed and a brow raised. My uncle was down the hall a ways away with a sad, concerned look on his childish face. “What happened?” my papa asked coldly.

I forced a smile on my face and snuck around him. “Nothing.” I stated. “I just felt like I needed a quick shower is all. You know, to clear my sinuses? I’ve made it this far in the month without a sick day, don’t wanna get sick now.”

I made the mistake of thinking that got me off the hook. To my surprise, he snatched my arm when I started to hurry back to my room. “A quick shower, hu?” he questioned. “Right, because everyone in their right mind calls a half hour of standing under the running facet a ‘quick shower’.” He then looked closer and sighed. “Your face is wet too.” he noticed. “When you leave the shower, drying your face is always your first priority. That hasn’t changed. You hate your face wet.” he stated. “Also, your eyes are red.”

“The towels were all damp anyway.” I defended. “Even if I used them to dry my face, it wouldn’t help much, so I was going to use my sleeves on the way to my room.” I stated. “And as for my eyes, I got soap in them, so that’s why they’re red, and that’s also why my face is more wet than usual.”

Still, my papa didn’t buy it. “What happened, ragazza?”

I couldn’t take it. I just started to sob all over again. “…I’m not…good enough.” I confessed. “I’m just…second best.” This peeked both my papa’s and my uncle’s attention, so I showed them the email I got from my choir director.

When my papa finished reading the email, he pulled me over and hugged me so tight, I thought he would break my spinal chord. “I know how much this meant to you.” he stated. “But you are NOT just second best! You are the most beautiful singer I know, the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard! You were singing before you could talk! Who cares what one bitch from a fancy school says?” he questioned, grabbing my face to look me right in the eye. “You are NOT fucking silver. You are no less than pure gold.”

He pulled me in to hug me again as I huffed, “But, the judge said that it wasn’t superior because I couldn’t remember the exact poetic English words. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter how I sounded. It only mattered how much I remembered.”

My papa rubbed my back for a while before saying, “Well then, she didn’t read her job description. This is probably the only time I’m going to agree with your choir director. You deserve a superior rating.” After some time, he chuckled. “I’ve got an idea.” he stated, letting me go and heading out of my room. “Get dressed ragazza, and wear something you would wear to the competition.” he instructed, now scaring me by skipping out the door. “When you’re ready, come to the office!”

I looked at him confused and frightened, but didn’t question. I got dressed in a royal blue blouse and black slacks, tied my hair in a ponytail, put on my sapphire earrings and my good luck charm necklace. I stared at my reflection for a long while. What is Papa thinking up this time?

When I walked in the office room, my papa was sitting at his desk with a serious look on his face and his fake glasses over his green-brown eyes. He changed into a business suit and tie with a pen in his hand and papers orderly on the large desk. On the other side of the room was the piano Roderich gave to us as a Christmas gift. My uncle sat at on the chair with music sheets on the stand. Even he looked so professional.

Alright, my papa smiling, that was creepy. My papa in a business suit, that was confusing. My papa skipping and giggling like a school girl, that made me think I died and woke up in Luciano’s and Flavio’s house again (long story). My uncle…Feliciano Vargas…sitting up straight and professional?! I thought it was an April Fools day prank!

“…Papa,” I called. “You do realize it’s still February…right?”

My papa glanced at his papers and adjusted his unneeded glasses. “Si.” he answered. “It is February 20th, 2015.” I widened my eyes as I started to piece together what this was all about. My papa started to look through more papers. “Now, Ms. Vargas,” he said squarely and with so much formality, I didn’t believe it was him. “I believe your song is Se Tu M’ami by Alessandro Parisotti?”

I could only gasp. He was recreating the competition. I didn’t know if I should thank him or slap him across the face and lock myself in my room, maybe even run off to my uncle Antonio’s for a month or three. Regardless, I nodded, playing along. My papa leaned on the desk. “Then go on. I’m ready when you’re ready.”

“…Bella?” my uncle called from the piano. “Can you set the tempo?”

I nodded and picked up my hands, starting to conduct him. When he got a good feel for the tempo, I dropped my hands and sang the song just as I practiced it, restating the tempo for my uncle when it was supposed to change.

When I was done, my papa coughed in his hand, quickly whipping his face. I’m sure it was just some dust in his eye, the room was a little dusty. “What is this song about?” he asked with a deep breath.

Just as before, I froze. “…The poetic idea behind the song is…a woman loves a man, but she loves other men too.”

Again, my papa looked through more papers before leaning back in his chair and asking, “What does ‘Con la scusa della spina Doman poi la sprezzera’ mean?”

I smiled, my confidence returning. “’Because the rose is thorny, soon they’ll all be thrown away’.” I answered. “It’s talking about how when the woman finds complications in a man, she will leave them and move on to the next man. Sadly, there aren’t enough men around, because all men have flaws, at which time, they’re all thrown away.” My papa gave a small smile as he nodded and dismissed me from the room.

Only a few minutes later, he came out of the office and gave me the paper he was writing on, as well as a blue ribbon on a gold pin. My smile was so wide, my eyes were squinted and tears blurred what vision was left. “What does that paper say?” I asked, trying to wipe the joyful tears away only for them to be replaced seconds later.

He smiled as he looked at the paper again. “Far more superior than just ‘Second Best’.”

Posted in Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire

Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire Author’s Note

Thank you for sticking with this story and enjoying it. This was one of my first fan fictions, so it has a special place in my heart. I am working on sequels, they are still in production, though I’m not sure when they will be ready for public eyes. If you absolutely can’t wait, then check out my entries in, where you can see an earlier version of this story and the first half of the immediate sequel, Ludwig and the Order of the Pheonix. It’s a rough draft on, but beggars can’t be choosers I guess. I promise though, the next story will be further along before my next birthday. Thank you again for enjoying my work, and have a beautiful rest of your day~! <3

Posted in Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire, Stories

Chapter 11; Going Home

The last day of school was very emotional for everyone. Germany hugged Jane and kissed her head, holding Italy’s wheelchair in place (Madam Pomfrey said he could keep it) as Italy looked up at him from the chair he was buckled in. Italy’s leg was inching its way to recovery, and the bandage on his head was no longer needed after the wound was cleaned and stitched. “Don’t forget me.” Jane teased. “I know you have more important people to remember, but try not to forget us, mortals.”

“Nien.” he shook his head. “I’ll never forget you. Even when I’m millions of years old, I’ll still remember you as you are at this moment.”

As the two shared a long, passionate kiss, Germany accidentally let go of Italy and he rolled down hill.


“Acio wheelchair!” Harry quickly caught him before he hit the water. As Italy felt the magical force pull him back, Harry grabbed the handles and pushed him back to Germany, applying the brakes.

Germany looked embarrassed as Harry eyed him. “…Must’ve forgotten his breaks…” he mumbled. Harry shook his head playfully as he returned to his friends.

Romano sat lay back on the wall as he talked with Sallin. “So,” she started. “a country, huh?”

“Yeah,” he sighed overly proud. “I’m known as Romano back at home. It was my stupid brother who got the country’s name.”

“You could be known as tomato head,” she joked as she punched his shoulder. “you’re still Vargas to me.”

“Why do you do that?” he asked, rubbing his arm.


“Punch me!” he yelled as she punched him again. “I meant why do you punch me.”

“Because you told me to punch you.” she chuckled. When he gave her a look, she continued to chuckle, “Because that’s how I show affection. Duh.”

At this, Romano stood straight. “You want to know how I show affection?” he asked. Not giving her time to answer, he zoomed his head between her jaw and shoulder and sucked gently. When he was done, she was the one who looked like a tomato and he was the one who chuckled. “You might want to get a scarf now.”

As the train whistled, everyone loaded on board. On the way, Germany sent a letter. “England,” he wrote. “I am happy to report that Harry Potter is still alive to next year. Although, Cedric Digory, the original Hogwarts champion, was K.I.A., and Italy was wounded very badly and lost his memory. I’ve been working with him every day since he received his injury, trying to regain his memory, but his leg injury will take at least another few months, even with his country healing abilities. And just know, I would be more than happy to enroll for next year (just as long as France stays out of it). Germany.”

He sent his owl out as the train left Hogwarts, and got a reply letter halfway to London. “Germany,” the reply said. “I’m sorry to hear about Italy’s injuries, and Harry’s loss. I will be more than happy to enroll you three next year as well. I expect the train ride to be more than relaxing to you after the long year. Can’t wait to see you in London. Britain.”

“What’s going on Germany?” Italy asked.

“I…I’m not sure…” Germany honestly answered. “England said he’d meet us in London.”

“England…England…” Italy fished for the image in his head. All the German could do was laugh as he showed him a picture of England. “Oh!” he smiled. “Now I see!”

They arrived in London the next morning. Germany pushed Italy off the train as they collected their luggage, and looked around for a ride home. “Over there!” Romano called as he led the way to England.

England looked at Italy and sighed. “How’d that happen?” he asked.

“From how I understand it,” Germany started as the four of them made their way to England’s car, England and Romano carrying all the luggage except for the pets, which were in Italy’s lap. “during the third task, Italy, Harry, and Cedric grabbed the cup simultaneously, and they ended up in a graveyard of some sort. Then, a man Dumbledore said was named Lord Vol-“

“Shush!” England stopped him. “I know you don’t know much about him, but he’s known as You Know Who here. He has a very dark history in my country’s wizarding world.”

Though he looked confused, Germany continued. “You Know Who came and attempted to kill all three of them. Cedric died on the spot, and Italy suffered severe wounds and lost his memory.”

“There was a man inside the castle with a mark on his arm also.” Romano added.

“A mark?” England asked as he eased Italy from the wheelchair in the car. “What did it look like?”

Romano tried to remember. “A skull with a snake coming out of its mouth.”

At this, the Englishman looked fearful. “What was his name? How did he get there?”

“His name was…” he strained to remember. “Bryan…something…Barny…Brad…something like that…and he drank some potion to look like one of the professors.”

England froze as he closed Italy’s door. “Barty Crouch?” he asked. “Barty Crouch Junior used Polyjuice Potion?” he asked as Romano nodded.

They all loaded in the car, Germany in the back with Italy, Romano in the front passenger’s seat, and England driving. “Not that I’m not flattered that you liked my school Germany,” England started as they drove to his house. “but, why do you want to go back next year? Especially after this year. I expected you to never want to see my land again and lock yourself in your house with nothing but your beer and wurst.”

Germany wasn’t sure how to respond. “It’s about…a girl.”

Posted in Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire, Stories

Chapter 10; The Dark Lord

Harry cried in pain from his scar as Italy and Cedric ignored his command. “Get back to the cup!” Harry repeated.

“But you’re hurt.” Italy insisted.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Cedric pressed. He began to ignore the two minors when he saw a stranger walk up to them holding a skeleton of some sort. “Who are you?” he asked the stranger, holding up his wand for protection. “What do you want?”

“Kill the spares.” a voice hissed.

“Avoda Cadavera!” The man whipped his wand, and in a flash of green, Cedric flipped over and his heart stopped instantly. Then, the stranger turned to Italy. “Avoda Cadavera!” The same green light came as he summer salted, hitting his leg on the huge grave stone, and his head on the staff the statue held. Pain shot up his leg to his hip, and the blast to his head felt as though it cracked through his thick skull. The last thing he heard was a muffled “NO!” before everything was out of ear shot and vision.

When Italy’s eyes slowly came into focus, he saw Harry running up to him, pick him up, run over to Cedric, and summon the cup to transport them back to the beginning. He faintly heard cheers and happy music before everyone started to look grim. “Feli!” Germany called as he raced down from the stands to his friend’s side. “Feliciano!”

“Feli?” Romano followed Germany in a more urgent suit.

Italy looked around weakly, finding it difficult to focus his eyes and make out who was who.

“What happened?” Germany asked. “I thought-“

“MOVE POTATO BASTARD!” Romano shoved Germany out of the way and eyed his brother. “Fratello, your leg! Where’s the bastard who did that to you?!”

Germany placed his hand behind Italy’s head, but took the hand back, trembling. “Italy, you’re bleeding!” he exclaimed. Italy tried to talk, but his confused look and the bleeding location said everything. “You don’t know who we are,” Germany concluded. “do you?”

“WHAT?!” Romano yelled when Italy shook his head.

“I’ll take you to the hospital wing.” Germany offered as he lifted Italy from the wet grass. Italy groaned in pain from his leg as Romano eyed ‘Professor Moody’ taking Harry away.

He followed the ‘professor’ in the office, seeing Harry sitting by the fire. “Harry,” Romano greeted. “what happened to Italy?”

He simply averted the Italian’s gaze. “All I can say is that he’s lucky to be alive.”

The first year was about to respond when they heard groans from where the ‘professor’ was. The two boys looked over. “Do you really think that Hagrid would’ve told you about the dragons if I hadn’t told him myself?” he asked. “Or that Nevil would’ve known to offer you and that bloody Italian Gilly Weed if I hadn’t given him the book on Gilly Weed to begin with?” he continued asking as he dug through his boxes. “Imagine the reward I would receive,” he started as he turned, revealing that his face was half melted. “when the Dark Lord finds that I have done the believed impossible, silencing once and for all the great and famous Harry Potter!” he yelled. “I’m sure the Dark Lord would be over joyed when I present two bloody cocky boys to his feet.” he added, eyeing Romano.

After all that was said, everything happened too fast. Some professors came in, Moody pointed his wand at Harry and Romano, Snape disarmed him, Dumbledore pushed him in a chair, and Romano shielded Harry from all the commotion. “Snape!” Dumbledore called as the potions master poured a potion in the melting face of Professor Moody. “Do you know who I am?”

“Albus Dumbledore.” he growled.

“Are you Alistair Moody?”


“Is he in this room?” The imposter looked at the chest Harry and Romano used to hide behind. “Boys! Get away from there!”

Professor McGonagall guided them out from behind the chest as the head master whipped his wand at the lock. Seven locks later, it revealed a deep hole. At the bottom was the true Alistair Moody covered in sweat and striped to his under garments. “Wait,” Romano stopped everyone. “if that’s the real Moody,” everyone looked at the imposter. “then who’s that?!”

The face continued to melt and change its features. Dumbledore glared at the man. “Barty Crouch Junior.” he hissed.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Barty promised as he pulled up his sleeve to reveal his skull and snake tattoo. Romano looked confused as Dumbledore forced Harry’s arm forward to show the cut. “You know what this means, right?” he asked. “He’s back. The Dark Lord has returned.”

The head master pushed Harry from Barty’s view and barked commands to the other professors. “How’s Italy?” Harry asked when they left the room.

“Germany took him to the hospital.” Romano answered as the two walked to the wing.

They walked all the way to the end where Italy laid and Germany refused to leave. Italy’s head was bandaged and his leg was in a large cast consuming from his toes to the base of his abdomen. A wheel chair was parked next to the bed. “It’s my fault.” he claimed, not even bothering to see who came in. “I shouldn’t have even urged England to bring him here in the first place.”

“How bad is his leg?” Romano asked.

“How bad is his head?” Harry added.

“Madam Pomfrey said that he has a major concussion,” he stated. “he must relearn everything. How to walk, talk, and feed himself, etc. as if he was a new born babe. As for his leg, everything split up to the joint in his hip. It would take months of recovery.”

“If he was human, right?” Romano asked nervously. “Because he’s a country, his memory and leg will get better in a few days, right?”

Germany shook his head. “If he was human, he would possibly be crippled for the rest of his life.”

“You three never had to do anything for me this year.” Harry stated. “You never had to come, I could’ve taken care of myself, and Italy wouldn’t have been thrown across a grave yard, hit by grave stones, just because he was with me.”

“I want to know who did this to him,” Germany growled. “I want to know who I should kill with my bear hands.”

“With the wave of his wand, you’d be an empty shell!” Harry exclaimed. “He’s killed children as young as new borns and not blink an eye.”

“I don’t care!” he yelled in pain. “I just want to kill him! I want to tear him apart limb from limb and watch him bleed slowly, dying in agony!”

“It would be my pleasure to join you, potato.” Romano growled in agreement. Germany smiled at the boy until they heard a groan from Italy’s pail lips. “Fratello!” the elder brother exclaimed. “Remember me? I’m your fratello, your big brother.”

“F-fra-te-llo?” he asked. “Bro-ther?”

Germany took a plate of spaghetti and placed it in front of him. “You must be hungry,” he stated. “surely you remember pasta.” Italy watched as Germany took a fork full of the carbs and gently placed it in the crippled Italian’s mouth. “Pasta.” he recited.

“Pasta!” Italy repeated gleefully.

Germany urged Harry more and more each day to tell him who crippled Italy, and Harry refused to answer each time. Italy slowly learned from Germany, Romano, and Madam Pomfrey about how to talk, and feed himself. His leg slowly got better, but he still couldn’t walk by the time Cedric’s funeral came.

Germany helped him in his wheel chair and pushed him through the halls to the Great Hall. “Where are we going?” Italy asked.

“To a funeral.” Germany answered.

“What’s a funeral?”

The German tried to find a good way to explain. “It’s an event where you honor someone who’s died recently.” he answered.

Italy looked confused. “But, I don’t know anyone who’s died?”

“Yes, you do,” he stated. “you just don’t remember.” As they entered the Great Hall, Germany pushed Italy next to a bench and put on the chair’s breaks before sitting down. “In a funeral, you don’t speak,” he stated to Italy. “just listen.” Soon, Jane came up and sat with him while Romano sat across the aisle with Sallin.

Dumbledore sat in the front, making a move to stand. “Today, we acknowledge a very terrible loss.” he stated. “Cedric Digory, as you all know, was extremely hard working, and a fierce, fierce friend. Which is why I believe you all have a right to know exactly how he died. The Ministry of Magic doesn’t wish for me to tell you this, but in doing so, I believe, would be an insult to his memory.” he paused. “You see, Cedric Digory was murdered by Lord Voldemort. The pain we all feel shows that, even though we are from different places, our hearts beet as one. May Cedric rest in peace, and hopefully, one day, we would be able to sleep at night, knowing his death wasn’t in vain.”

As silence fell, every face held sadness, some with open tears, and others with bowed heads. Germany looked down, not in sadness, but in vengeance. Lord Voldemort. he repeated in his mind. That’s who crippled Italy in attempt to kill him.

Posted in Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire, Stories

Chapter 9; The Third Task

Germany hadn’t talked to Italy since the second task, nor had he even seen Jane without finding her bright, beautiful green eyes in a cold glare of pure hate since she found out the truth weeks ago. Who could blame her? He might be able to hold his own against any attack, but he can’t even protect the ones he loves from pain he inflicts. He knew what he had to do, but not the slightest clue how.

First thing was first, he was going to chew out England’s ass for giving them away and humiliating him the way he did. “Arthur Kirkland,” he wrote. “or should I say England! You idiot ass hole! Your howlers gave away everything! Everything I strived for, now gone because you were too stupid to use our proper names! You didn’t help anyone at all! You humiliated me in front of a girl, used mine and Italy’s country names more than once, and now, she thinks I’m a liar, cheat, and an abomination! You said that you were going to be careful if you ever had to use howlers, but the way you wrote them seemed careless and reckless to me. Secrets out thanks to you, and you call us children. Take your own advice and stop acting like a half-century-old colony! Germany.”

As Gilbert flew off with the letter, Germany was ready to confront his friends and do the one thing he was never good at, apologize. Apologize to Jane for never being straight forward with her and explain himself to her, and apologize to Italy for being a jerk to him, for hitting him, for saying things he never meant, for just being a rotten friend.

He searched the halls for Jane first, because she had to understand everything. When he finally found her, she gave him the same glare she’s been giving him since she found out the truth. “Jane,” he called as he approached her. She simply ignored him with a straight face. “Jane, please.” he begged. “Let me explain.”

“What’s there to explain?” she asked. “You lied to me from the day we met. How do I know if all you did was lie or not? How do I know if you’re capable of telling the truth?”

“Because the only thing I had to lie about was my identity.” he answered. “My human name really is Ludwig, but I have no last name, and I’m more commonly known as Germany.”

“Why did you lie?” she asked, not even looking at him.

Germany sighed. “My friends and I have to keep it secret from humans, otherwise, we would be overthrown easier. Also, no one would believe us anyway.” he continued. “If England hadn’t reminded us of that, then I would have given you the complete truth from the start.” He took a deep breath. “Nothing else was a lie.” he stated. “The truth is…I…Ich Liebe Dich!”

“I don’t know German you bloody idiot!” she yelled as she crossed her arms and closed her eyes to guarantee that she won’t have to look at his untrustworthy face.

“It means…” Germany hesitated as the words caught in his throat. Once she hears those words, he told himself. you can never go back. “It means…I love you!”

Jane turned to him, her eyes now bright with excitement and curiosity. “…But, you said you were thousands of years old.”

“Age is but a number,” he chuckled. “also, I’m physically frozen, so I’ll remain the age I appear forever.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “So, you’ve been eleven for thousands of years?” she asked.

“Well…no…” He blushed wildly. “this is just England’s age spell. After the year is done, he’ll turn me back to my original form, a twenty-three-year-old man.” He sighed as he sat with her. “Jane, I’m sorry for lying to you. At least now you know why I had to.” he stated as he made a move to leave before she stopped him.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a while. “I forgive you.” she smiled. “Can you forgive me for not understanding?”

“Nothing to forgive.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to understand what’s not explained.”

After a few more minutes, Germany left to find Italy, but instead, could only find Harry, Ron, and Hermione. (Are those three ever separated?) He came up to them in a rush. “Have you three seen Feliciano?” he asked.

“You mean Italy?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ron huffed. “we know about your little secret identity, Germany.”

“Don’t worry,” Hermione added. “your secret’s safe with us.”

He smiled. “Thanks,” he stated. “now, could you help me find him? I have to say something to him.”

“I saw him in the Transfiguration courtyard.” Ron stated.

Germany nodded in thanks and rushed to the courtyard. As he approached the lush yard, he looked past the stone frames, searching for Italy until he found him slipping in Professor McGonagall’s class and shutting the door. “Damn it.” he muttered as he walked away.

He didn’t see any sign of Italy again until the day of the third task as Germany sat in the crowd and Italy stood with the other champions. “It’s okay,” Jane stated in an attempt to calm him down. “he can’t die…can he?”

“Normally not,” he answered. “but I don’t know what this age spell did to us in full.” He watched tensely as Italy stood there, about to enter a maze constructed of bushes, and filled to the brim with fog.

Italy entered the maze at the third entrance color coated in the Ravenclaw colors. Next to him was Harry, and on the far side was Cedric. Once the cannon sounded, they crossed the thresh hold of the maze and the bushes closed them in. All he caught was McGonagall’s concerned look at the entrance, Germany worriedly nodding at him to continue, and Romano’s blank look before the bushes closed and it got silent on his side.

He ran around the twists and turns of the maze, sometimes, the branches would randomly close in quickly, nearly enclosing him in the leaves before he’d narrowly escape. Soon, he literally ran into Harry while he was running. “Harry!” he called. “I can’t do this! I don’t know the spell to get me out of here! Help me! Please!”

“It’s alright Italy,” Harry soothed as Italy pressed his back against the bush wall where he sat and sobbed. “the way I understand it, you can’t die.”

“But, what if England’s age spell took my immortality?” he cried. “Please Harry, I’m so scared!”

With a determined look, he nodded. “I promised Germany I’d keep you safe.”

“My group promised England we’d do the same for you.”

“We’ll stay together then.” Harry offered his hand and smiled when Italy took it and pulled himself up. “It’s decided.”

They wandered through the maze a while longer before running into Cedric. All the way down the aisle was the cup. The Hufflepuff gave them a crazed look before racing past the bushes. Harry and Italy did the same, though it was for a different reason.

About half way down, Cedric fell and got dragged away from the roots. “Harry!” he cried. “Harry!”

“I don’t know what spell to use to help him!” Italy stated.

“…I do.” Harry whispered as Cedric continued his pleading chant.

“Harry, do the spell! Please!” Italy cried.

After listening to Cedric’s cry for help, and Italy’s plead to do something, Harry pointed his wand at the root, chanted, “Reducto!” and watched as the roots retreated down into the soil.

The young man stood, panting heavily. “For a moment there,” he started. “I thought you were going to let it get me.” Out of nowhere, a storm started and the three started running again to the cup. “Take it!” Cedric insisted. “You saved me, take it!”

“We’ll do it together.” Harry informed. “All three of us. One, two,” The three of them lunged forward and took the cup, landing in a dark field.

“Harry,” Italy called in the sudden silence. “…what happened?”

“The cup,” Cedric smiled. “it’s a port key!”

“I’ve been here before,” Harry stated in fear. “in a dream. We have to get back!” he commanded.

Suddenly, he collapsed and clutched his head. “Harry,” Italy hurried to his side with Cedric. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you two deaf?!” the Gryffindor shouted. “Get back to the cup!”

Posted in Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire, Stories

Chapter 8; Secret’s Out

Lovino watched as Ludwig and Feliciano stayed clear of each other. They never made eye contact, talked, or even acknowledged each other’s existence. “…So, Ludwig…” the elder Italian started. “what’s going on between you and Feli?”

“Who?” the German asked coldly.

The Italian was stumped. “Feliciano, my little fratello, your BEST FRIEND! (For reasons I’ve yet to figure out.)”

“Never heard of him.” Ludwig answered.

Lovino gave up on Ludwig and went to his brother. “Hey, Feli,” he called. “what’s going on between you and Ludwig?”

“Who’s he?” the younger brother asked blankly.

At this point, Lovino was way past surprised, bypassed stumped, and downright worried. If Italy was ignoring Germany, something was wrong. “The potato loving bastard, the German you won’t shut up about, your BEST FRIEND!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about fratello.” Feli answered. “I think you need to see a doctor or something, you must be seeing things like Arthur.”


Seeing no other option, Lovino wrote a letter to Arthur. “Arthur,” he wrote. “I have no idea what to do. Harry’s doing just fine (if you don’t count the potions exam), but it’s Feliciano and Ludwig I’m worrying about. They haven’t talked, looked at each other, or even notice each other for the past month! It’s like you talking to Alfred about flying candy rabbit or whatever when I talk to those two. I know they were annoying when they were friends, but it’s really freaking me out! DO SOMETHING!! Or at least tell me what to do so this can be fixed! Lovino.”

When England got the letter, he was furious. “Damn it! My age spell must’ve worked too well, they’re acting like immature children!” he yelled as he dug through his desk. “Where are my bloody howlers?!”

Ludwig walked to the Great Hall for lunch, the only meal where students can eat at whichever table they want, and looked around for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “Ludwig!” Ron called. “Over here!”

He walked over happily until a red hair curl came in his view. “Hey, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Lovino, what’s up?”

Lovino gave Harry a stern look. “I see what you mean.” he whispered as he turned to the German. “So, it’s true, you’re not friends with Feliciano anymore.”

The blond crossed his arms, sending a glare at the red headed Italian before answering, “I don’t have any friends by that name.”

Lovino couldn’t take it anymore. “What about the name Veniciano?” he yelled as he shot up from his seat. “You have a friend by that name? Or Ita-” He growled as he marched around the table, pushing Ludwig’s shoulder with so much force, it put a crick in his neck. “Or, how about Italy?” he continued in a whisper, but more intense. “You and Italy have been friends for nearly half a century, since WW2 even, one little fight over a job shouldn’t tear that apart!” Ludwig jerked his shoulder free from Lovi’s grip, sent another glare to Feli, and stormed away.

He walked over to the Hufflepuff table to see if Jane would be there. When he saw that she actually was, he hurried to her side. “Hey, Jane,” he sighed. “mind if I sit with you?”

She immediately looked concerned. “Luddy, what’s wrong?” she asked.

He looked over at her and smiled. “It’s nothing,” he sighed. “just some problems with my neighbors.” Though she looked confused, she didn’t want to push him. She just hugged him and they snuggled for a while in silence, not touching their food.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked Lovino as Harry and Hermione looked at one another seriously. “Why’d you explode like that? And what did you whisper to him after you went all the way around the table?”

“Feliciano is my little fratello.” he answered. “I don’t like people intending to hurt my family just because we don’t look like we can fight for ourselves.”

“But, what did you whisper to him?” Harry asked, truly curious.

“I told him things that should remind him how much friendship used to mean to him,” he snapped. “and that’s all you’re getting out of me!”

As Lovino stormed off once again, Feliciano was the center of attention in the group. “Do you know what that was about?” Hermione asked sweetly. “I mean, he is your brother, did he say something to you?”

“Well…I…uh…” he was at a loss for words as an owl came in holding two letters in its beak. One dropped at the Hufflepuff table in front of Ludwig, the other in front of Feli. “What’s this?” he asked, eyeing the envelope.

“Let me see that,” Ron stated as he reached over. The Italian gave him the letter as the ginger turned pale. “I know what this is,” he stated. “…it’s a howler.”

“A howler?” he asked.

“Go on Feli,” Hermione urged. “it won’t end well if you ignore it.”

“I didn’t know the mail came until tomorrow.” Ludwig thought aloud as he eyed the closed letter.

Jane got scared and scooted away. “Ludwig, that’s a howler.” she stated. “Do you want to open it alone?”

The German shook his head as he carelessly opened the envelope. “YOU BLOODY IDIOTS!!!” the letter screamed with an echo from the Gryffindor table where he left Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the Italy brothers. “I WARNED YOU WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF YOU TWO F*CKED THIS UP! I TOLD YOU I’D SEND A HOWLER! HERE IT IS YOU BLOODY GITS!”

At this point, the echo stopped, and the two letters were saying two completely different things. “GERMANY, DON’T THINK I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED! YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF, SCOLDING ITALY FOR DOING YOUR JOB! STRIKING HIM ACROSS THE FACE EVEN! I’ve worked with idiots, and I’ve worked with power hungry men, but this is the BLOODY FIRST TIME I’VE HAD TO WORK WITH A POWER HUNGRY IDIOT!” Ludwig’s howler screamed.


“Now that you know how it feels to receive a howler, you BLOODY HELL SHOULDN’T DO THAT AGAIN! You two are COUNTRIES! Not CHILDREN! If you two act this childish again, I’ll BRING ALL THREE OF YOU BLOODY GITS BACK HOME, AND LEAVE YOU TO THE MERCY OF RUSSIA!” the howlers warned before they tore themselves up.

Jane looked at Ludwig fearfully. When he tried to touch her, she backed away. “You’re…not a wizard?” she asked.

He hung his head shamefully as he muttered, “no.”

“A muggle?”


“What are you?” she asked. “How old are you?”

He avoided her gaze as he answered, “I’m the country of Germany, and I am several thousand years old, as old as the land itself.”

She shook her head, not wanting to believe him. “You lied to me?”

“No, I-“

“I thought you at least liked me!” she cried as she ran away.

Germany clutched his head. “I really am a dumcoff when it comes to relationships.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at the ripped up parchment, then at the Italian. “Either whoever wrote that howler is out of his bloody mind, or,” Ron leaned in, eyeing Feli. “our friend here has something he’d like to share.”

“Ve~” Feli answered. “A little of both.”

“Didn’t you hear how that howler was worded?” Harry asked.

“It sounded like the writer referred to countries as actual people.” Hermione observed.

“Well, go on,” Ron crossed his arms at Feli. “you said it was a little of both, so go on, spit it out.”

Feliciano took a deep breath. The sooner I start this, he thought. the sooner it’s finished. “I’mnotreallyknownasFelicianobackathome! Well, Iam, butit’sonlyonveryrareoccations. I’musuallyknownasItalyVeniciano, theNorthernhalfofItaly.” he blurred out.

“What?” the three Gryffindors asked.

“My common name is Italy Veniciano back at home.” he stated, slightly slower.

All three of them looked serious and thoughtful. “When I was talking with Lovino, he said that he has family members named after countries.” Ron stated.

“During the first task, Ludwig cried Italy instead of Feliciano.” Hermione added.

“Just Ludwig’s last name should be a giveaway…right?” Harry supplied.

“Of course!” Hermione cheered. “If you translate his last name from Japanese to English, it’s just Germany.”

“But what about Feliciano and Lovino?” Harry asked.

“Well, Lovino, trying to cover up his tracks, already said that his “nickname” was Romano.” Ron supplied. “I wonder which country wrote that howler…”

“England.” Italy sighed. “England sent Germany here to protect Harry this year.” he explained the whole story. How Germany got the job, what his terms were, how they were able to afford their supplies, everything the Gryffindors didn’t already know about Italy’s journey, they did now.

Hermione was the only one who still had her thinking face on. “…If you’re right, and you really are the country of Italy,”

“I’m known as Italy, but I’m not the whole country,” he corrected. “my territory is just Northern Italy.”

“Northern Italy,” she repeated. “then, you and your brother have been allied with Germany for decades. Would your argument lead to something bad?”

The country took a deep breath. “You know history, right?” he asked as she nodded. “What do you think started the Hundred Years War between England and Big Brother France?” When she looked confused, he answered for her. “A week before that war started, they had a little disagreement. I was too young to remember what it was about, but that’s what really started the war. They strongly disagreed on something, and they still fight about it now.

“What led America to strive for his freedom? He disagreed with England on how he should be governed, and they fought for a decade at least.

“Why did Germany start WW1? How did WW2 start? Or even the Civil War that had America abandon by his sanity? All started with the two little words, “you’re wrong”…the words I might as well have told Germany after I landed on that deck.” It was silent until Italy looked over to the three-fourth years. “Now, tell me, does that sound bad? ‘Cause it doesn’t sound good to me.”

Posted in Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire, Stories

Chapter 7; The Second Task

As days passed, Lili was sent back home, and Feli got more and more anxious about the next task without a clue on how to crack to egg’s code. “Have you even attempted to figure out that egg?!” Ludwig scolded Feliciano.

“How?” he asked. “If I open the egg, everyone looks at me like I’m a crazy person!”

He really was completely stumped. He had no idea, and apparently, neither did Harry. Ludwig and Hermione kept on urging them to figure it out as the days morphed into weeks. It wasn’t until February when Harry went up to Feli with somewhere to start. “Hey, Feliciano,” he called as the Italian froze and looked at the Gryffindor. “I just finished talking with Cedric.” he stated. “He told me he already figured out the egg!”

“What is it?!” he asked anxiously.

“He didn’t tell me that part,” Harry let down. “but, he did tell me how he got it.” They leaned in close to whisper lowly. “Take a bath with it.”

Feli jumped embarrassed. “What?”

As crazy as it sounded, he took Harry’s advice and took a bath with the egg on the rim. He looked at the egg, opened it for a split second, and then closed to in a haste, getting the exact same result as he got the night he bested the dragon, a painful scratch. Then, he thought for a moment. The phrase Harry used reminded Feliciano of his elder brother. “What would Big Brother France do?”

It clicked as he thought of the answer, France would literally take a bath with the egg. He put the egg physically in the water and opened it. Instead of a scratch, he heard the most seductive music he ever heard. He took a deep breath, and dunked his head under the water, listening to the words.

“Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

An hour long you’ll have to look,

To recover what we took.”

He coughed for air as the words replayed in his head and he gathered his clothes, redressing himself.

“Ludwig! Ludwig!” he called, running around the school. He found him with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lovino in the library. Seeing the other champion, he directed his attention to him instead. “Is the next task under water?”

“Wait!” Ludwig stopped as he walked over to Feli, put on one of his leather gloves, and had a death grip on his hand so hard, they heard his joints popping. “Go ahead.”

Harry simply nodded as Feli started to cry and run away, but popped his shoulder and stretched his arm painfully instead. “We’re trying to find some way for us to breath under water for an hour.” he stated exhaustedly.

A few hours later, they found nothing to help as Professor Moody came in the library. “Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasaly, Mr. Doitsu, please come with me.”

“Please professor,” Hermione urged. “the next task is only hours away and-“

“And Mr. Potter and Mr. Vargas need their rest.” he shot back.

“What’s going on?” Ludwig asked. “Why do you need us?”

Moody sighed. “I don’t need all of you, Professor McGonagall is gathering a handful of selected students for something.”

“Why am I not on this special list?” Lovino asked.

“Trust me, Mr. Vargas,” the professor growled. “take envy that you are not your brother nor friends.” He turned grumpily. “Now, Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasaly, Mr. Doitsu, this way please.” Feliciano, Harry, and Lovino didn’t see those three again that night.

As the three remaining students started shoving books back where they think they go, Nevil started to try and help them, talking about plants. “Get it through your head!” Lovino shouted in annoyance. “No one likes herbology at all, much less like you!”

“Is there something in that book that will help us breathe underwater for an hour?” Harry asked.

The herbal geek thought for a moment. “Well, there is Gilly Weed.”

Nevil went over everything they needed to know about Gilly Weed before the champions got ready for their next task on an artificial island in the middle of the Black Lake. “Welcome to the Second Task!” Dumbledore announced. “Last night, something was stolen from our champions! Now they must bring back their treasure with only one hour to do so, one hour only!”

“Where’s Ludwig?” Feli asked himself as Harry swallowed the Gilly Weed. Since the upperclassmen saw that as how to use it, Feliciano did the same thing and nearly choked. Lovino stood right behind him, sighing at his younger brother’s late reaction to the cannon and pushing him into the freezing water.

The splash itself sent Feli into shock as his fingers webbed, his feet turned into flippers, and gills appeared on his neck. Harry, who had the same changes, swam up to the first year, gesturing to the direction music came from. The Italian nodded as they both swam in the direction.

The two weaved past the seaweed as the voices sang. When they saw a shark tail, Feli was gone before Harry knew what happened. Even under water, he can disappear in the dust, or in this case, bubbles.

He had no idea where he was going but ended up at some underwater city full of people with fangs and shark tails. He had a feeling that this was where he was supposed to be as he cautiously approached the city. “You have found us,” the voices sang.

“That’s not sour,

But what’s almost over,

Is the hour.”

He ran into Harry, Cedric, and Victor in the city while searching for something of any value. Confused by the maze of a city, he simply followed Harry. He searched through the city to find a treasure of any kind until, to his horror, he found him.

In a straight line were five people, Flure’s little sister, Cedric’s date from the ball, Hermione, Ron…and Ludwig, all of which were unconscious and their ankles tied to the sea floor. It all clicked in Feli’s head as Victor’s magical shark head cut through Hermione’s bonds, Cedric whipped his wand and cast a spell to slice through his date’s bond, and Harry untied Ron’s ankle. This challenge was meant to put the closest friends in danger to motivate the champions to go through with it. The British called this entertainment? he asked himself. Just give me a plate of pasta, and a TV and I’ll be fine!

Feli sliced through Ludwig’s bond and started to swim to the surface, holding onto Ludwig’s arm, until he looked back at Harry. “Let’s go!” he yelled, his voice muffled from the water.

“Where’s Flure?” Harry asked as Feliciano looked around. The said champion was nowhere in sight, the hour was almost up, and her sister was still tied there. Harry sliced through the girl’s bonds and took her and Ron with him. “Let’s go.”

They were so close to the surface until Harry got dragged down. He pushed Ron and the girl to Feli and yelled, “Go! Get them out of here! I’ll be fine!”

The Italian took the two other victims and started to swim away. Looking back and seeing Harry get dragged, bitten, and cut, he knew he had to make a choice. He could either abandon Ludwig, Ron, and the girl to help Harry or leave him in the dust to get the others to safety. “I’ll be back!” he called as he pulled the others up.

The moment the clock chimed to tell everyone the hour was up, Ludwig, Ron, Feli, and the girl broke the surface and were brought to safety. “Feliciano, no!” was all Feli heard from Ludwig before he dived back in the water, trying his hardest to find Harry. When he did, he kicked all the little octopus things away from him until Harry cast a stunning spell, accidentally hitting Feli with the creatures. Seeing his mistake, he held onto him tightly and he pointed his wand up, cast a spell, and they flew through the water, diving on the deck. They coughed up water, and a little blood before their friends came with blankets and towels.

Ludwig walked over to help Feli off the ground, only to punch his jaw. Feliciano rubbed the spot painfully and saw the blood on his fingers. “Feli, you idiot!” Ludwig scolded. “Why would you dive back in the water?! You could’ve been killed!”

“Harry needed help!” he shot back. “Don’t you remember the whole reason we’re here?! Eng-Arthur sent us here to protect Harry, and that’s what I’m doing!”

“Dumcoff!” he snapped. “He sent ME here to do that! He only had you come because you’re just a useless Italian! You can’t hold your own against anyone, or anything!”

“Yet, who was the one who went back in the water to help him?” the Italian asked coldly. “I didn’t see you dive in to protect him! How is it you claim to have a job, but you refuse to do it?”

“I do NOT refuse to do it, there was just never any chance for me to!” he talked back. “It’s not like I can jump in the ring and help him defeat the dragon, or whatever was down there!”

Feli laughed at that. “Just admit it!”

“Admit what?”

“You would be nothing without me!” the Italian claimed. “The way I remember it, before I became your friend, you carried around a stick and called that branch a friend! If it weren’t for me, you’d still be wandering around the woods, crossing borders, and sharing sausage with Hestick!”

“Hestick was a more useful friend since the day I picked him up than you have been your whole life!”

“In fact, if it weren’t for me, you’d still be at the bottom of the lake, tied in that underwater city!”

“Correction, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been down there in the first place!” Feli just stared at him for a moment as Ludwig continued his harsh words. “You think that you saved me?! HA! If it weren’t for you, I’d simply be at my home, reading a good book, with no cares in the world! You’re not a savior like I said, you’re useless!”

“…Useless…” he repeated quietly.

Ludwig nodded as he continued his list of Italy flaws. “All you’re good for is making white flags, cooking, and running! All the decades we’ve been friends, you’ve yet to show me that you have any more of a use than that because you HAVE no other use! You’re not a battle strategist, a fighter, nor a survivor! All you do is just sit around all day waving white flags, and eating pasta! So, the way I see it, you would be nothing without me! Just a feminine boy who cowers to anyone with any type of weapon!”

The tension between them built as they stood in silence until the Italian turned away. “If I’m so useless,” he whispered. “then why did you even sign our alliance?” Ludwig didn’t get a chance to answer as Feliciano walked away. The pitter-patter of his wet feet fading in the distance.

Posted in Blogs, Meet My Oc

Meet My Oc: Hetalia Ocs Cont.

This is part 2 of the introduction to the Hetalia ocs, Tokyo, Louisiana, Venice, Naples, and Paris. Find part one here. This blog isn’t even really necessary, it’s just so I can summarize the roles of these ocs while in the game HetaOni. I will be posting a version of HtaOni that includes these ocs on a later date (once I stop being lazy and finish it). I guess, if anything, this is just a general idea or a sneak peak.

The featured image actually uses 2 bases. The main base is by: fiischer-d4y44df and the other is by: insyncinsanity-d51v9qv. And, before you say anything, I know the American flag is upside down in the featured image. This is because in America, the flag turned upside down is a signal of distress, so I thought it would be a perfect representative of what’s going on and what HetaOni is really about (also, you can’t really pull off the same signal with any other flag, since the other flags I use in the featured image are all vertically symmetrical).

Naples keeps most of her memories because, in the first time loop, she doesn’t die until Italy drags her out the door. When time is turned back the first time, she wakes up and thinks it’s all a dream until Italy describes everything she dreams down to the letter. Though she doesn’t remember details to the same extent as Italy does, she believes him in every time loop and remembers bits and pieces. Because of this, Naples and Italy argue about the best way to escape with everyone; while she believes they should insist with the rest of the group and use the past time loops to their advantage and escape more efficiently, he believes their knowledge should be hidden and the group should figure out every tedious puzzle themselves without prior knowledge or assistance. Naples spends the whole time trying to keep the group all together in a location that she believes to be safe while she goes out alone to solve the puzzles faster and get the key to the front door; she keeps a mentality of “gotta do everything myself” and “if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself”.

Tokyo and Louisiana both arrive with the Allies, though don’t have any memories prior to the current time loop. When separated, Tokyo stays with China and England, and Louisiana goes with France (more or less against her will). She goes missing with France, America, and Prussia while Tokyo freaks out at China’s side. After finding the Axis, Tokyo, along with the rest of the group, and later Louisiana and those separated, question why Italy and Naples act oddly. Once it’s revealed that they’re not only hiding something but also can easily die and have died many times before, Tokyo and Louisiana do everything in their power to convince Naples out of her thought process. While America succeeds in convincing Italy, the same can’t be said about the girls.

Paris stays with Spain and Romano, not ever even entering the mansion prior to the events of the game, worrying silently for his friends and brother. He eventually enters with Spain and Romano and clings to France’s side, afraid to lose his one and only brother. He also fills the role of a doctor with make-shift medical supplies (example, turning excess clothes and Italy’s white flags into bandages and turning wine and beer into disinfectant) for all the times members of the group, especially Naples, would leave and get hurt in brawls with the monster.

Lastly, Venice, who, like the rest of the world, has never set foot in the mansion, tries to enter with Romano, Spain, and Paris, but is refused and under the constant care of Austria and Hungary, forced to give support, only from the outside looking in. She does meet up with Belarus, Ukraine, and Linchtenschentine, going so far as to even meet Russia with his sisters, and wanting to enter with them, only to be talked out of it but Russia himself. He reminds her how devastated Italy would be if he knew that his only daughter was locked away in a death trap, even if it would be at his side.

When signing the alliance, Naples signs under the name Justine Vargas. Tokyo signs the name Rachel Honda. Louisiana puts a signature that reads Angel N. Jones. Lastly, Paris scribbles the name, Jeremy Bonnefoy. When news of this reaches the outside, Venice begs to be part of the alliance as well, requesting Naples sign on her behalf, the name Christina Vargas.

Posted in Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire, Stories

Chapter 6; The Yule Ball

Feliciano eyed himself in the mirror, critiquing his long black and white dress robes that Arthur sent with the green bow tie and belt. Seeing nothing wrong with his outfit, he fussed with his hair, making sure his bangs were completely out of his eyes, and that his curl was in a perfect circle. Unable to fix every strand of hair, he sprinted down the steps to the common room to wait for his date.

Lili came down not long after. Her long pink dress was simple. The shoulders puffed out and morphed into tighter long sleeves. A green jewel rested on her neck and really brought out her eyes. A simple pink ribbon was tied in her hair to match her dress.

Attempting to be a gentleman, Feli smiled and offered his arm. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

Lili giggled as she took the arm. “I hope Big Brother isn’t worrying too much.” she giggled as he escorted her to the ballroom.

Ludwig couldn’t stop fidgeting with his black dress robes. When he wasn’t messing with the cuffs or waving it in the mirror, he was brushing his hair into several different options, slick back, parted, straight down, ruffled, etc. until he finally just had it in his usual style. “Shop fidgeting potato! You’re making ME nervous!” Lovino called at him.

The Italian’s hair was in its usual part with the high hair curl. His robes were black with a red bow tie and belt. His arms were crossed in the doorway as he eyed the blond. Ludwig sighed. “I just don’t know, I’m not all that good with romance like you and your brother, even Francis is better at this than me!”

Lovino shrugged. “Guess it’s just an Italian and French thing,” he stated. “but it’s not like you’re going to marry this girl, it’s just a dance.”

“Are you saying you don’t like your date?” the German shot.

“I’m saying that all that love and romance mushy stuff is just a distraction.” he answered. “Yeah, I like the date I got, but I don’t care what she thinks of me.”

“But I care about how Jane thinks of me.” Ludwig sighed.

Lovino gave him one last shrug before looking lazily to the side. “Whatever, it’s your date.”

They soon parted ways to get their dates. Ludwig waited in front of the Hufflepuff common room. He watched as a Hufflepuff seventh year came out, and nearly tripped on the German. “Sorry,” he apologized. “You waiting for someone?”

“Yeah,” Ludwig answered. “Jane Scott.”

The elder student smiled as he walked back in the common room, and came out with Jane. “Sorry Ludwig,” she bustled. “I completely lost track of time.”

The blond completely spaced out when he saw how beautiful she looked. Her single strapped dress was layered, from the inside out, it faded from purple to blue and the dress itself brought out an athletic figure that the school uniforms hide. Each layer was slit in the front, the cut starting a bit lower each layer until the slit was just above her ankle. Her long hair was in an updo, her bangs behind her right ear, and lose strands wrapped around her bare left shoulder. Around the hems were light ruffles that glided as she walked. There was just the perfect amount of make-up, he had to really look at her to notice that she even had any makeup on. Her green eyes just danced in the flickering firelight with excitement.

He couldn’t help but smile as he offered his arm. “Are you ready?” he asked as she took his arm gently and nodded.

Lovino was in front of the Slytherin’s portrait no later than five fifty, happily waiting for his girl to come out. At six o’clock on the dot, Sallin came out with her lime green eyes revealing the happiness that her face attempted to hide.

Her dress was simple and black. It only went down to her mid-thigh and was sleeveless. She had black leggings and flats on underneath. Her black hair shined blue in her ponytail. “Glad you’re not late Gryffindor.”

He blushed. “I’d prefer if you’d call me by my actual name.” he stated as he offered his arm. “Ready to go?”

She rejected his arm but held his hand instead. “I’m ready as I’ll ever be tomato face.”

“Close enough.” he shrugged.

Feliciano, Harry, Cedric, Flure, and Victor, along with their dates, formed a star on the dance floor and started to dance uniformed. It took a few songs, but Jane pulled Ludwig on the dance floor, and they joined the dance along with almost half of the other couples in the ballroom. It took another few songs before Lovino and Sallin joined.

They then started to dance as a group when it was freestyle. Ludwig looked around, worried. “Where’s Harry?” he asked Feli.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “but I do see Hermione and Victor.” Seeing no reason why not, Feli maneuvered the group over to them. “Hey, Hermione!” he called. “You want to join the group?” She looked over at her champion, who shrugged and they both joined the group of first years.

After a while of random fun, they met up with Harry, Ron, and Padma (though, they couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t with her twin sister like she always is). None of them, not even Lovino and Sallin, could stop laughing as they crowded the table. Victor turned to Hermione, whispered something in her ear, and then kissed her hand before leaving. The fourth year clutched her head and sat with the big group. “Victor’s going to get some drinks,” she informed. “do you want to join us?”

“Sounds like fun!” Feli stated.

“Do you want a drink, Jane?” Ludwig asked as his date nodded and he left to follow Victor.

“You thirsty, Sallin?” Lovi asked as his date shook her head.

“I’m good, Vargas, I’m just a little hot.” With that, she left to go outside.

Suddenly, Hermione’s expression changed completely from overwhelming happiness to pure anger. “I like this song.” Feli stated to Lili, not wanting to deal with an angry witch. “let’s go back and dance some more.” He pulled Lili back on the dance floor as Lovi’s hair curl wrinkled from the new tension at the table.

After all the tension fizzled out, Sallin came back, and Ludwig got a drink for himself and Jane, they all went back to the dance floor before calling it a night. Lili rested her head tiredly on Feli’s chest. “I’m really happy England sent me here,” she whispered. “even though Big Brother wasn’t so happy about it.”

“Why did you come?” Feli asked. “If you knew your big brother wouldn’t be happy about it, why?”

“I wanted to be here to help you in any way I can.” she answered.

He was happy with her answer as he lightly kissed her head. “You already helped me more than you know.”

Ludwig and Jane swayed from side to side not far from Feli, her head on his shoulder as they held each other close. “So, how’d I do?” he asked. She looked at him in confusion. “I’m not a big romantic, so I’m going blind here.”

She smiled brightly as she hung herself on his neck and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. “You could’ve fooled me.” she stated as she let her head sink back to his shoulder. “You’re sweet, shy, strong, and perfect.”

“You’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met,” he came back. “you’re smart, fun, beautiful, I could go on forever.”

Lovino and Sallin danced slowly in each other’s embrace. The British girl looked up at the Italian and smiled. “You ever kiss on the first date?” she asked.

He pondered her question. “Sometimes, depends on the girl I’m on a date with.”

A light blush shaded her features as she asked, “What about for me?”

He looked at her and smiled, slowly getting closer to her face. Their lips grazed each other as they softly kissed. He half expected her to push him away, but she never did. At that moment, nothing else mattered.

Ludwig and Jane sat at the table, waiting for Feliciano and Lovino with their dates. “If you want, I can take you back to your common room,” he offered.

“No,” she yawned. “I’m fine.” It was obvious that she was running low on energy, but waited with him.

By the time the Italians and their dates came, Jane fell asleep on Ludwig’s shoulder. “You guys go ahead, I’ll just take her back to her common room.” Feli and Lovi nodded and escorted their dates as Ludwig slid his arm under Jane’s knees, and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, carrying her back to the castle.

He found another Hufflepuff, asking them to get the door for him and explaining the circumstances. Once the door was opened, he followed the Hufflepuff to the girls’ dormitory, and to Jane’s bed. The German smiled as he laid her in the bed, cleaned off her face, removed her jewelry and shoes, and let her long hair down. He watched as the golden brown locks curled around the pillow, and draped on the mattress. “I think…I might be falling in love with you…” he stated as he kissed her head and pulled her blankets up to her chin. All he wanted to do was watch her sleep.

Lovino simply walked Sallin back to the dungeons. “I had loads of fun tonight Vargas.”

“I didn’t think I could laugh so hard!” he chuckled.

Sallin smiled before she said the password and morphed into the darkness, her green eyes the last thing Lovino saw before the portrait closed. He could’ve sworn he heard her say, “See you ’round Lovino.”

Feliciano walked Lili back to the Ravenclaw common room. “I had a great time Feli.” Lili whispered shyly.

“I did too Lili,” Feli stated. “you seem a little tired though,”

“I wanted to stay up.” she protested. “If this was all I could do to help you with this dangerous tournament, then I wanted this night to last forever.” Her green eyes started to droop.

The Italian wasn’t very tired while Lili swayed exhaustedly by the time she had her night clothes on. Feli had to catch her when she let herself get so tired, she fell asleep standing in the middle of the room. He helped her to the couch step by step, took the ribbon out of her hair, and tucked the blanket around her sleeping form.

He looked around to see that the room was empty before he smiled and sighed, “Good night Lichtenstein.”

“Good night Italy.”

Posted in Blogs, Meet My Oc

Meet My Ocs: Tokyo, Louisiana, Venice, Naples, and Paris

Ok, there are A LOT of ocs in this introduction blog, but I wanted to introduce all the Hetalia ocs all at once (Note, even though these are the official ocs of myself and my friends, we still have some really good stories of scrapped ocs). In the featured image, the girl holding food is Tokyo, inspired by RcMay’s love for Japanese culture and anime also by the fact that, in real life, she is coddled by her family. The girl watching her is Louisiana, inspired by AnimeAngel120’s tech smarts (and frankly red-neck way of thinking in various situations). Behind her is Venice (she wasn’t really inspired by anything or anyone IRL). Across from Louisiana is Naples, inspired by my own friendly yet skeptical outlook on life and others, and behind her is Paris, inspired by my brother’s flamboyancy (base for featured image by: aqua999-d4gqm47).

As far as ponysonas go, Tokyo is a white earth pony with a trail of cherry blossoms as a cutiemark for her love of culture. Louisiana is a  dark blue pegasus with either an artificial satellite or the NASA logo as a cutiemark for her mastery of technology and love of astronomy. Venice is a baby blue pegasus and a blank flank (she’s only a kid, younger than Sealand). Naples is a tomato red unicorn with bullet and paintbrush cutiemark for her love of drawing and painting along with her courage and willingness to engage in hand-to-hand combat. Lastly, Paris is a bright red (like France’s pants) unicorn with either a glass of wine cutiemark for his alcoholism or a bee hidden behind a rose for his sugarcoating nature.

Now to the fun part, the back stories (more of just a summary of their day-to-day lives and how they interact with the rest of the world)~!

Tokyo is the younger sister of Japan. The best way to think about their relationship is Marlin and Nemo from Pixar’s Finding Nemo. Japan coddles her and doesn’t allow her to be out of his sight. So, growing up, Tokyo has been sheltered from the world and hasn’t been allowed to be a large part of any war, despite her claims that she can hold her own. However, in day-to-day life, Tokyo spends all her time reading and drawing manga, playing video games, and watching anime. She became friends with everyone who visit her and Japan, like the Axis Powers, America, and his sister, Louisiana. Tokyo also gained a crush on Spain for his bubbly, friendly personality. She is often watched after by China and Russia; she’s one of the few who’s not afraid of Russia.

Louisiana is the younger sister of America and shares in his lay-back, tom-boy, heroic personality. She assisted in the founding of NASA because of her love and interest in space. However, when she’s not blasting monkies to Mars, she’s visiting with her friends, which is the rest of the world (except Russia; she’s very afraid of him, though it’s not like America would even let her be friends with him because of the Cold War, Red Scare, Space Race, etc.). She also has a large crush on France for his princely, romantic nature (also AnimeAngel120 herself gets squeamish and blushes at the French language or French accent…which happens to be my personal best accent to pull off).

Venice is the daughter of Italy, niece of Romano, and younger cousin of Naples, who is Romano’s daughter. Because Venice is still so young, she took no part in any war, however, she looks up to Naples, who basically took the reigns of every war she could from the Italy brothers because of her courage and her level head. Despite having a level head, Naples can’t handle being a Prisoner of War, though not in the same way as her father and uncle. Cuff Naples, and you will die. If restrained or imprisoned, Naples will snap and transform into a complete yandere and kill everyone and everything in her path until she either returns home or is within eye-shot of her family.

Still, Venice admires Naples and wishes to be just like her when she’s older, however, for now, the younger cousin is still trapped at Italy’s side; Italy’s fear that she inherited his fear and weakness keeps him from allowing Venice to test her own limits. Despite this, the cousins are still friendly enough to be at least acquainted with the whole world, friends with all the major powers, best friends with all the Axis members, and, in Naples case, romantically involved with Prussia for his blunt outlook and bad-boy feel. However, Naples doesn’t like, nor trust Canada due to (in her perspective) his uncanny ability to shape-shift into America, and become invisible (I know Canada doesn’t really do that, but Naples believes that to be the only explanation as to why he can be everywhere and nowhere at the same time, and why he randomly appears and disappears like a ghost).

Lastly, Paris is France’s younger brother. With his empathetic nature, Paris is best as a medical assistant in times of war, though it brakes his heart, so he’d drown himself in wine to mend it. Though he doesn’t appreciate liars, he, himself bends the truth to best fit his own gain, for example, he’ll be in denial that there are people suffering, even more so if he’s the cause of such distress.

All these ocs have a part to play in HetaOni, however, I’ll have to make this a two-parter because this blog is already really long (I guess that’s what happens when trying to introduce 5 characters all at once, oh well). See you next week for part 2, and have a beautiful rest of your day~!

You like Hetalia? ‘Course you do! So grab Paint it White, Axis Powers, World Series, Beautiful World, and even World Twinkle from Amazon!

Posted in Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire, Stories

Chapter 5; The Challenge of a Date

The German ran to his bed as Lovino walked in after him, watching him scribble a note. “What are you doing potato head?”

“I’m writing to Arthur.” Ludwig answered flatly. “Don’t distract me, or I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

“Arthur,” he wrote. “They’re slowly figuring us out. Hermione caught me using Feliciano’s country name. I told her that it was just a nickname, but I don’t think she believed me. What should I do now? By the way, Feliciano did great with his dragon. He used spells I’ve never heard of (probably shouldn’t be falling asleep in class), and got his egg without hardly a scratch. I’m so proud to call him MY friend. I would say the same about Harry, but he spent most of his battle miles away from the field, so I have no idea what all happened, but he’s very much alive and well. Ludwig.”

He sent Gilbert out the window with the letter, then looked at the Italian behind him, his mouth clamped shut. Ludwig laughed fully. “You can talk now.”

“I just finished talking with Feliciano,” Lovino started. “and, he said that McGonagall said that he needs to get close to a girl before Christmas.”

“Why?” Ludwig asked.

The Italian shrugged. “How should I know?”

England was meeting with Switzerland when Gilbert the owl came in and made himself comfortable on the desk. He read the letter and smiled. “Italy, I knew you could do it.” he stated to no one in particular, then another owl came in with another note. “Arthur,” it said. “I know this is going to sound strange, but Professor McGonagall told me that I need to get close to a girl, and all the girls at this school are scary. I don’t even know why I need a girl so badly. Since this is your school, maybe you can tell me why I need to know a girl. Feliciano.”

“England,” Switzerland attempted to get his attention. “England…” Still no reply. “BRIT!” the Swiss yelled, smacking his hand on the desk.

“I’m sorry Switzerland…” Britain apologized halfheartedly, then smiled devilishly. “Say…can I borrow your sister?”

Feliciano was happy to get a response letter back from Arthur. “Dear Feliciano, I believe that Professor McGonagall was referring to the traditional dance that goes with the Triwizard Tournament. Though first years aren’t usually permitted, I have reason to think that because you are a champion, you will be required to make an appearance, despite your age and grade level. I understand that you don’t know many girls within your age group that will accept your invitation, but I will help you with that. Just give me some time to explain to the professors. I think you’ll like the choice I made for you. Arthur. P.S. Give these extra tickets to Ludwig and Lovino, I believe they would be more than happy to join you.”

Though he didn’t understand his reply, he was happy he even got a reply to something that had barely anything to do with the tournament and nothing to do with Harry Potter.

“Now, remember Liechtenstein,” Britain explained. “I’m going to make you look like an eleven-year-old girl, and send you to a magic school just until Christmas Eve, then you can come home in your natural form, and forget it ever happened.”

“I’m a little excited to see Italy again.” Liechtenstein admitted.

“Oh! One more thing,” the Brit stopped her. “while you’re there, go by your human name, Lili Zwingli.” He waited for her nod of understanding before he continued. “Also, you’ll see Italy, Germany, and Romano there, but call them Feliciano, Ludwig, and Lovino instead.”

She nodded. “Ok.”

Feli wandered the halls, sighing in exasperation that he’s the only champion without a date for the Yule Ball (except Harry of course), when suddenly, he heard a familiar voice. “Feliciano!” it called. He turned around to see Switzerland’s little sister, Liechtenstein, wave at him.

He rushed over the girl and exclaimed hushed, “Liechtenstein! Why are you here?”

“Britain sent me.” she answered just as softly. “He said that you needed my help for something about a dance, and also that I need to go by Lili here.”

Feli smiled. “Well, are you going to be sorted like a student too?” he asked.

Lili shook her head. “Britain said that he told the professors that I’m just a visitor from Liechtenstein, only here to be your…” She gulped loudly. “…date.” she finished quietly.

The Italian’s cheeks flared. “Well…” he started, desperate to change the subject. “…where will you sleep until the ball?” She shrugged as he thought for a second. “You can stay in my tower.” he offered.

Lili smiled and started to giggle, hugging him. “This is going to be so much fun!”

The Yule Ball is the only task associated with the Triwizard Tournament that challenges all male students in the school. Ludwig had all the courage in the world when it came to war and survival, but when it came to girls…he might as well borrow a white flag from Feliciano.

There was one girl in Hufflepuff, a first year, that he would freeze when they were partnered together for class. Her long dirty blond hair usually was tied back while her bangs were always needed to be pushed out of her eyes…those beautiful, vibrant green eyes. She reminded him of Hungary, but freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. When he had a chance to talk to her, his heart leaped into his throat, and his voice cut off. He never even heard her voice directly to him, since she never had reason to talk to him, but when Ludwig had the privilege to have her voice grace his ears when she talked to someone else close by, his brain would hit replay again and again.

Every day, he, Ron, Harry, and Lovino would promise each other that they’d have dates by that night, but they always came back in vain. He’d always check the schedule to see which house he’d have the class with, hoping it’s Hufflepuff, but normally, the only class he’d have Hufflepuff with was in potions, assuming he’d have a class with her that day at all.

The Yule Ball was only a few months away and Ludwig still never even asked that girl her name. “Hey, Ron,” He leaned over. “do you know her name? The green eyed dirty blond?”

“Her?” he asked as the German nodded a little too noticeably. “That’s Jane, Jane Scott.” he introduced.

“Jane…” Ludwig repeated in a lovesick voice. “I want her to go to the ball with me.”

Harry pulled him back. He didn’t even realize he was slowly moving towards the girl. “Hold it there lover boy,”

As he returned from his la-la-land Ludwig could just hear his brother teasing him with something like, “West wants a girlfriend! West wants a girlfriend!” along with that annoying laugh he has with his stupid bird flying circles around his head.

“Does she even know you?” Harry asked.

“We’ve been partners before…and…we see each other from time to time.” he stated.

“Come on Harry,” Ron encouraged. “If he thinks he has the guts to ask her out, then let him try.”

After class, Ludwig went straight to the girl. “H-hello.” He forced himself to talk. “You’re Jane Scott, right?”

As she nodded, she looked closely at him, then smiled. “I know you!” she exclaimed. Ludwig never thought he’d see the day when he’d use the words “British accent” and “voice of an angel” in the same sentence, but that’s the only way he’d describe her voice, like a kind British angel (nothing like Britannia Angel, he’s not sweet enough to even come close). “You’re the kid who always falls asleep in class, and drools on paperwork!”

His cheeks burned red. He now knows what it feels like when Lovino looks like a tomato. He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah…that’s me…” It was silent for a while before he stated, “I’m Ludwig, Ludwig Doitsu.”

“Pleasure.” she smiled and held out her hand to shake his.

Twenty seconds of embarrassing courage. he remembered France say when he was talking about romance to him as he eyed the hand. Instead of shaking it, he held it up, bowed slightly with his other hand behind his back, and kissed her hand lightly. “Jane Scott, will you do me the honor of joining me at the Yule Ball?”

She leaned in close so she wouldn’t be heard. “I didn’t know first years were allowed there?” He looked up at her. Pink cheeks is a good thing, right? he asked himself.

He stood up straight and smiled. It’s not a rejection! he thought to himself. “Normally, not,” he stated. “but, my best friend is a Triwizard Champion, and gave me, and his brother two tickets each.” Her face slowly turned a darker shade of red. “What do you say?” he asked.

She looked around, bit her lower lip, and then looked back at Ludwig nodding. “That night, come to my portrait on the second floor and meet me outside the common room.” she instructed with a smile as she zipped through the halls.

He stood there for a second, then  gave a derpy smile . “See you then, Jane.” he slurred as he dragged himself to his common room. If he were a cartoon, then multiple hearts would be popping around his head and a loopy love song would be playing.

Lovino watched as Ludwig came in the common room in a freaky fashion. “What’s with you potato?” he asked.

“She said yes.” he simply stated.

Confused, Lovi looked to Harry and Ron for enlightenment. “There’s a Hufflepuff girl who he’s been wanting to ask to the ball for a while now, and today, he finally had the courage.” Harry explained.

“And judging from your derpy look, you got lucky.” Ron observed.

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!” Lovino tensed, even his hair curl straightened with a cross loop in the middle, then he was back to normal seconds later with his brows furrowed. “The potato loving bastard got a date BEFORE me?!”

“Gilbert would’ve been so jealous,” Ludwig continued absentmindedly. “she looks almost exactly like Elizabeta.”

“Who?” Harry and Ron asked.

“His brother, Gilbert, has a sort of crush on Elizabeta.” Lovi explained. “But before ME?!” He went straight back to the subject of his most concern. “I mean, really! Arthur sent a girl here from home to be Feliciano’s date, you have a date from potions class, and I’m the only one without a date!”

As if his week couldn’t get any worse, Lovino got in trouble and was punished with detention. It wasn’t his fault that he laughed really hard when Professor Snape happened to find a can of exploding candies instead of his bug toes, and he got detention for something anyone with a sense of humor would do in reaction, simply because no one else in that class had a sense of humor.

Maybe they were his candies and he did put them in the professor’s drawer, but whether or not Snape actually opened the drawer was completely by chance. Maybe he did search for the ingredients Snape would pull out that specific day, but the professor should really keep his files and schedules more secret. So, in the end…yeah…he was guilty.

He sat in the room, a few other kids with him, as the professor went over what his detention is like. “No talking, no communication, no moving. The only moving permitted is breathing. You will be in here for an hour, so don’t even try to look at the clock. Ten points will be taken every time you move, and yes, I will keep track from my office.” He then whipped around and disappeared behind the oak door.

Sitting next to Lovino was a Slytherin girl, seemingly another first year, somewhere between nine and eleven. Her hair was straight up black with a blue shine, and straight as a ruler down her shoulders. Her bangs were straight across at the brows, and her skin was fairly pale. Lovi saw a note slowly slide on the desk from the girl. He looked at it and read it silently. “My name’s Sallin Bones, what’s yours?”

He wrote on the paper as slowly and unnoticeably as he could, “Lovino Vargas”

“You’re Feliciano’s brother?” she wrote back as he slumped and nodded.

“Ten points from Gryffindor!” Snape called from his office.

“What’re you in for Vargas?”

“Exploding candy in Snape’s desk. You?”

“Spray paint on the Slytherin’s curtains.”

“This might seem odd, but how old are you?”

“Ten, first year. Duh.”

An idea struck in Lovi’s mind as he wrote, “Because my brother is a champion, I get two tickets to the Yule Ball, even though I’m a first year. You want the other ticket?”

“Are you asking me to the dance?”

Lovino learned his lesson and wrote, “Yes.” instead of nodding.

“I don’t know. That seems really fancy.”

“If you don’t want to, then I understand.”

“Let’s do it. Christmas Eve, outside the dungeons, six o’ clock. Don’t be late.”

“Is that a yes?”

“You really are like your brother, duh it is!”

They both looked at each other. Sallin’s eyes were a bright green. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that she was really a bad luck black cat in human form…but that was just nonsense.

After detention, Lovino and Sallin walked to her common room because it was closer to Snape’s office, talking the whole way. “So, do you think your brother would win the tournament?”

“Feli?” Lovi asked as he chuckled. “All my brother’s good at is surrendering!”

They laughed as they came up to the portrait. “Well Vargas, this is my stop.” she looked back and punched him in the shoulder. “See you ’round Gryffindor.”

Lovino rubbed his arm where her fist made contact as he watched her whisper her password, and the painting open. While she was half way in the darkness, her lime green eyes looked back at Lovi, and a kind smile graced her thin lips.

Ludwig stayed up, waiting for Lovino until he heard footsteps in the entrance. “Where have you been?”

“Getting a date, that’s where potato!” he answered smugly. “So unlucky, but such a jackpot at the same time,” he described. “like a black cat under a golden rainbow.”

“What’s her name? What’s her house? What does she look like? Tell me everything.”

Under normal circumstances, Lovino would refuse and command he’d mind his own bee’s wax, but if he did that, he wouldn’t be bragging properly. “Her name is Sallin, she’s Slytherin, and she has straight black hair and bright green eyes, like a black cat that was turned human.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Ludwig started. Lovino eyed him sourly. “She sounds like bad news. Harry and Ron tell me that Slytherins shouldn’t be trusted. I think that if it’s important enough for them to tell me that, then you should listen too.”

“You’re just jealous that my date is cuter looking than yours!” Lovi defended. “She is perfect for me! She has a fantastic sense of humor, she can take care of herself, and she agrees with me that Feli won’t win the tournament!”

“Everyone knows that!” Ludwig shouted. “It’s not about winning! It’s about survival!”

“What if the only way to survive is to win?”

The German slumped, remembering the reason they’re there in the first place. What if Lovino was right and the final task would be a five-way duel where only one champion can make it out alive? “Let’s just hope that there can be more than one survivor when this is all over.”

Posted in Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire, Stories

Chapter 4; The First Task

Feliciano couldn’t help but wonder if he would die. He knew he would if he ran, and if he went through with it, his chance for survival was very slim. He didn’t have the slightest idea if him not even being human would change his chances. All he could think of to do was send an update to Arthur. He took a paper, quill, and ink, and started writing. “Arthur, I don’t know what to do! (Ludwig told you about the Goblet of Fire right?) It picked three champions like planed, but then everyone started to freak out, including me, when Harry Potter’s and MY name came out of the fire! I tried to run away, but Professor McGonagall said that I already signed a contract by putting my name in the goblet. I DIDN’T EVEN PUT IT IN THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE! The first task is only a few weeks away. I’m so scared! Should I test my few survival skills with a chance of dying, or drop out with a guarantee of dying. I DON’T WANT TO DIE! Please help me! Feliciano :'(” He rolled up the paper, borrowed Gilbert, and sent him out with the letter in his beak.

He waited anxiously for some hint on whether waking up the morning of the first task would be worth it, or if he should call in sick. Harry left to answer a call from Hagrid about the first task. Feli decided he should go with him to see for himself. He hid under the invisibility cloak behind Harry. His eyes filled with horror when he saw a flash of orange light. “Dragons!” Harry exclaimed. “That’s the first task?!” Feliciano didn’t even bother to make sure he still had the cloak over his head before he was gone in a trail of dust clouds. “Feliciano! Wait!”

“Why would I?” Feli called. “I’m going to die anyway!”

“Get back here!” Harry called again. “Acio Italian!” he chanted as he whipped his wand out and Feliciano tripped and was magically pulled back. Harry pulled him up and held him in place. “You are NOT going to die,” he promised. “not as long as I have a say.” Feli stopped squirming and listened to Harry’s words, letting them sink in. “I will do all I can to help you in these tasks.” he promised. “The only way you will die guaranteed is if you run away from it, but you still have a chance if you face it.”

“It’s not much of a chance.” Feli sighed. “I don’t want to do this.”

“You think I do?” he asked the Italian. “I don’t want glory like everyone thinks I do. If I could, I’d give back the glory I already have.” It was silent as they stood in the dark. “Come on.” Harry finally said. “We have some research on dragons we should do.” They walked back to the castle and into the library, searching for everything they could find on the dragons they saw. It was very well known that there’s a chance they would get any one of those five dragons.

Feliciano met with Professor McGonagall every day for an hour. “What are your strengths?” she asked.

“I can make a white flag in three seconds.” he answered as McGonagall hung her head. She definitely had her work cut out for her.

She put on her serious face, and explained what she meant. “Mr. Digory can turn a whistle into a watch and have it sing the time, Ms. Delaquore is as much a princess as Professor Moody, Mr. Crum…heaven knows what that boy is capable of, and Mr. Potter can see a ball this size,” She demonstrated how small the Golden Snitch is. “moving at blinding speed from a mile away and have it in the palm of his hand in minutes.” This knowledge only scared Feliciano even more. “You can bet galleons that they are playing off their strengths. What are your strengths?”

He now understood what the professor meant and shook his head. “I’m not good at anything!” he sobbed. “I can run,”

She nodded. “I heard, but this is more than that.”

“I can…” he thought harder. “make…pasta?” McGonagall shook her head. “I’m a quick study.”

The professor twitched a smile at the one thing she can work with. “In that case, let me teach you some more advanced spells.”

The day of the first task came sooner than Feliciano hoped. He woke up that morning on the couch of the Gryffindor common room so Ludwig could have easy access if he needed “encouragement” to go down to the field. Feli opened his eyes, wondering why he was there instead of the Ravenclaw common room like he got accustomed to waking up to. Then, he remembered as he threw himself under the blankets again, trembling.

“Come on Feliciano,” Ludwig sighed as he walked up to the couch. “Let’s go.”

“I’m sick!” he claimed. “I have a terrible fever!” he stated, sounding strained and coughing.

Ludwig looked skeptically at him. He walked around to the front of the couch to see the shaking blob of blanket. He pulled the cloth off and felt Feliciano’s forehead. “That’s not a fever,” he instructed. “if anything, your face is colder than usual.”

“Did I say fever?” the boy asked. “I meant…uh…stomach ache.”

Ludwig tried to think of anything that would make him feel better. “I got a letter back from Arthur last week.” he stated. Feli looked up, cuddling with his cat. “He said that you should go through with it. Professor McGonagall won’t let you die without a chance.” he stated. “With the skills she’d teach you to stay alive, you should be a surviving machine. You can do this, but you don’t give yourself enough credit. What he said for you to do was to think about what you can do instead of what you can’t.”

Feli smiled and got up. “I-I can do this!” he stated confidently.

As the Italian walked away full of confidence and spirit, Ludwig smiled at his sudden change of heart. Seconds later, the smile turned from a kind smile to a strained smile as he realized something. “He’s gonna die.”

Feliciano trembled in his prep area. While everyone else geared up for facing unknown dragons, the Italian had to work hard not to disappear in a dust cloud. Ludwig came in to give support, but there wasn’t much he could say. They both knew the truth of the matter.

“Champions, gather around.” Dumbledore called as all the friends left and the champions huddled the professor. He held a bag that released steam when it opened. “Ms. Delaquore,” he offered. The French slowly put her hand in the bag and pulled out a miniature dragon. “Welch Green.” the professor named, then went around the circle naming the dragons as he went around. “Chinese Fireball. Swedish Short Snout. Hungarian Horntail.” Then, it was Feli’s turn. He shakily put his hand in the bag and screamed when he felt a claw climb up his thick glove. “Ukrainian Ironbelly.” he named as the grey reptile looked Feli dead in the eye and blew a blast of fire at his face (because of small size, though it heated his face by a number of degrees, the fire didn’t reach his face).

“These are very real dragons, each with a golden egg to protect. Your objective is to collect the egg.” the professor informed. “With in each egg is a clue to your next task.” He then turned to Cedric. “Mr. Digory, you will start at the sound of the-” A large BOOM interrupted and the professor left, giving Cedric the cue to start as he heard the crowd cheer his name.

Not long at all, Feliciano was alone in the tent. Judging from the cheers, he guessed that Harry just bested his Horntail and got his egg, possibly much easier than he would have it. “Four of our champions faced their dragons!” Dumbledore called. “Now for our fifth, and final contestant!”

Feli forced himself to go out there as he heard cheers of, “Vargas! Vargas! Vargas!” He recognized one voice yelling, “Let’s see if you like being the favorite now!”

“I hate it.” he grumbled to himself to answer the challenging, singled out voice.

Seconds later, the crowd was dead silent as Feli spotted his egg. He started to walk towards it, but a blast of fire blocked his path. His dust trail lead behind a rock as cries were heard. “I CAN’T DO THIS! I CAN’T DO THIS! I CAN’T DO THIS! I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”

“Remember your lessons!” Ludwig yelled over the crowd. “You know what to do!”

“Si.” he answered. “RUN AWAY!” He started to run back where he came, but the entrance was barred. There was no other exit. It was just Feliciano and the chained up, pissed off Ukrainian dragon.

The dragon blasted fire and a single cheer was heard “Go dragon!” in an Italian accent. Feli knew who it was, but first he had to survive the day before he cried to him for being so cruel.

As fire blasted in his path, only one spell he learned came to mind. “Incindeo!” he chanted, and it worked as a shield. The fire faded as he looked at the glistening egg. He waved his wand and chanted, “Windgodrium Leviosa!” He watched in amazement as the spell started to work and the egg levitated, but a grey claw pushed it down with such force, it cracked through the rock.

“RUN ITALY!” Ludwig yelled. Feli heard the command and was happy to fulfill it as he ran in circles around the field.

All the running around made the dragon dizzy, and the Italian got an idea. He ran so fast, he was running on the wall. The audience strained to stay in their seats as Feli started a tornado. He felt proud of himself as he ran on the wall until something was suddenly in his way. He tripped on the dragon’s claw and fell on its leg.

The Ironbelly teased the boy, throwing him between its claws and smacking him in the air again with its tail. He dodged fire blasts while he was juggled in midair until he finally had enough. He started to run away in midair.

He came up to the egg and chanted, “Depulso dragon claw!” and the claw was magically removed from the egg. Feli started to reach for it, but a wall of fire surrounded the rock nest. “Potrificus Totallus!” he chanted as he whipped his wand at the dragon and the creature froze tensely.

The crowd erupted in cheers of, “Vargas! Vargas!” as Feli walked up to his egg. It was too deep to pull out manually, so he remembered a spell he heard Harry use earlier. “Acio dragon egg.” he panted the chant as the egg flew to him so fast, it knocked him to the ground. He then held up the egg in victory in one hand, and a “thumbs up” in the other, indicating he was alright.

That night, in the Ravenclaw Tower, Feliciano was treated like royalty by the other Ravenclaws. He was sitting on shoulders as the egg was being kissed by the classmates and passed throughout the room. “Come on Feliciano!” one of them stated. “What’s the clue?” the student asked as he tossed the egg to him.

Feli barely caught it and smiled. “Who wants me to open it?” he asked as the cheers from the room were heard from the Slytherin room under the lake. “You want me to open it?” he teased. More cheers told him to do it.

As he turned the knob sealing the egg, the golden shell broke into three parts to reveal a screaming voice, like nails on a chalk board.

Feliciano quickly closed the egg once again as he was lowered. “What the hell?” he heard an unmistakable Italian voice from the tunnel entrance. Feli weaved his way past the sea of blue and black uniforms to see a single red dot in the dark hall. As the red got closer, into the light, brown hair shined in the fire light and brown eyes looked at his full of seriousness and sorrow. The single hair, longer than the rest of his hair, curled to his right side made his identity as well-known as his accent.

The brothers looked at each other for a moment. “How did you know the password?” the red head asked.

“That girl, Luna I think her name was, let me in.” Lovino answered.

“I heard your cheers,”


“…for the dragon.”


Feli forced Lovi to look him straight in the eye. “Why do you hate me so much that you’d cheer on a dragon for trying to kill me?”

The older brother looked shameful. “I know I shouldn’t have, but at least Ron and I warned you about the dragons.”

The young brother looked confused. “Hagrid warned Harry and me about the dragons.”

Lovino shook his head. “Don’t you remember?” he asked. “I asked Ron to tell Hermione to tell Harry to tell you that Pervarti told Seamus who told us that Hagrid was looking for you two.” Feliciano looked dumbfounded. “So it really was Ron and I all along.”

They looked at each other for another moment, then hugged each other tightly. “I love you, big brother!” Feli cried as he sobbed tears of joy into his brother’s uniform.

In the Gryffindor Tower, the Gryffindors were still cleaning up after their Triwizard Party for Harry. Ludwig walked around the room, wiping down the tables from cake icing when Hermione came up with a curious expression. “…Ludwig?”


“I couldn’t help but notice one of your cheers for Feliciano today.” she stated.

Ludwig closed his eyes and sighed. “Yeah, Feliciano is like a baby brother to me.”

“I just have one question.” The German looked at the girl, offering her to ask away. “Why did you call him “Italy”?”

Ludwig froze as he remembered. Did I really slip up? he asked himself as he then turned back to the expectant girl. “That’s just his nickname.” he answered nervously. “It runs in our family and friends to give each other nicknames of our native country.” he lied. “Sorry,” he backed away from Hermione. “I need to…uh…feed Gilbert.” and he was gone in a dust cloud.

Posted in Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire, Stories

Chapter 3; Triwizard Champions

“Harry Potter!” Dumbledore yelled over the crowd. “Feliciano Vargas!”

Hermione jerked Harry out of his seat and pushed him to the professor.

Ludwig had to hunt Feli down, and drag him sobbing and attempting to run the other way to the professor. Dumbledore handed Harry his parchment, and Ludwig Feli’s. When the parchment was in the Italian’s view, he clawed at the ground, his average sized nails curling up streams of the floor and leaving scratches as he screamed, “NO! I DON’T WANT TO DIE! PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME DO THIS! I’LL DO ANYTHING BUT THIS! I DON’T WANT TO DIE! I DON’T WANT TO DIE! I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”

Giving up on dragging him, Ludwig took the Italian and flung him over his shoulder, bearing through his punches and kicks in his back and stomach and screams of “I DON’T WANT TO DIE!” in his ear, carrying him to the other champions.

They joined the other champions in an isolated room. As the first three champions were calm and determined, Harry entered nervously, Feliciano wasn’t trusted to be put back on the ground and Ludwig entered as the only student that wasn’t a champion. It wasn’t long before the professors and headmasters and mistress came in and stirred up even more noise. “Harry!” Dumbledore yelled, clutching his collar. “Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?”

“No sir!”

“Did you ask one of the older students to do it for you?”

“No sir!”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yes sir!”

“Of course he is lying!” Madam Maxime exclaimed, smacking a chandelier out of her way. She glanced at Feliciano still yelling, “I DON’T WANT TO DIE!” over and over again, and clutched her head. “And will someone shut that first year up?!” Ludwig took a large spoon full of pasta he keeps for emergencies, and shoved it in the boy’s mouth, using it as a baby’s passaphire.

“There is no possible way for anyone to fool the goblet into adding two more champions that are uncalled for!” Mad-Eye corrected Madam Maxime, ignoring the distracting movement of the Italian. “Those few who can do such a thing would have mastered very advanced magic, magic I doubt is taught here in the fourth year,” he paused as Feli finished the pasta on his spoon, threw it on the ground, and continued his chant. “…much less first!”

“Feliciano, if you don’t shut up, then the challenges won’t be what would KILL YOU!” Ludwig yelled.

The boy tensed and cowered behind his hands. “I’m sorry Ludwig.” he sobbed. “This is just so scary!”

The adults went back to the conversation as Ludwig put Feli down, but with a death grip on his wrist. “It seems you gave this some thought Mad-Eye.” Carcaroff accused, again ignoring the Italian and German.

“You forget,” Moody growled. “it was once my job to think as a dark wizard.”

“What should we do?” McGonagall asked Dumbledore.

“Let me just say headmaster,” Snape stated smoothly. “as odd as these turn of events have been, I suggest we let them unfold.”

“Do nothing?!” The outcry from the professor caught Ludwig’s attention. “Offer them as bait? Potter and Vargas are boys! Not chunks of meat! They aren’t ready for this! We need to drop them out!”

“YES!” Feliciano begged. “SI! Gratsi! Gratsi! GRATSI!”

“We couldn’t even if the entire magical community told us to.” the headmaster sighed worthlessly. “The Goblet of Fire is, in it of itself, a binding magical contract. Potter and Vargas have no choice.” Feliciano started to sob at the words he feared would come out of the man’s mouth. “They are, as of tonight, Triwizard Champions.”

“No!!!!” Feli sobbed in his hands.

Ludwig’s heart strings were pulled as he watched the Italian in an even more fearful state than he ever witnessed him before. “Professor?” he started.

“Mr. Doitsu, what are you doing here?” McGonagall questioned, finally taking notice to the blond.

“I’m making sure Feliciano doesn’t run away.” he explained. “Which brings up my question, what would happen if Feliciano would refuse to participate?”

The professor’s face went grim. “He’d die.”

“You have to understand the uniqueness of this situation Mr. Doitsu.” Dumbledore stated. “First matter of business that we can care for now is magical personal trainers.” he explained. “Usually, it’s the headmaster of each school, but I can’t look after three champions myself, we’d need two other professors who are willing to tutor you two privately that’s not Professor Carcaroff, Madam Maxime, or myself.” He then turned to the professors in the room at the moment. “Moody, can you watch after Potter?”

“Doesn’t seem too hard.” he grunted, eyeing his new personal student up and down.

“Snape, can you-“

“NO!!” Feli again tried to run, but Ludwig tightened his grip on his wrist, and the Italian was rooted after the slight stumble from the German. “Mr. Snape, no offense, but you scare me!” He went back to screaming loudly and annoyingly, and attempting to run away, only to stumble back, then try again.

“Is there anything in this world that you’re not afraid of?” McGonagall asked sweetly, but barely audible over the cries.

“Not much.” Ludwig sighed in response.

“Alright then,” the headmaster stated over Feli’s screams of terror after Moody shoved Harry out. “McGonagall, would you do the honor?”

“If you would STOP SCREAMING,” Ludwig yelled at the cowardly boy, who shut off when he heard the German’s command. “then you would’ve heard that McGonagall is your private tutor.”

A small smile crept on the young face. “Do you feel better?” she asked her new privet student

He nodded. “Si.”

“Is it alright if Feliciano stays with me in the Gryffindor common room?” Ludwig asked. “I’m the only one who can keep him from packing.” The professors nodded halfheartedly, then huddled together to talk more about the subject.

Ludwig led Feliciano to the Gryffindor common room, spoke the password, and then showed him inside to meet up with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lovino. “What took you so long Ludwig?” Lovi asked.

“I had to pin Feli in place while the professors talk things through.” he answered.

“What happened?” Ron asked. “Harry said that Snape is his privet tutor.”

The German shook his head. “Feli denied it, and started screaming uncontrollably, so now it’s McGonagall.” he explained. He went through what would happen if Feli refused and explained why it had to be him to protect him. “So, that’s why I brought him here.” he finished.

“Well, that was a long and boring story.” Lovi complained.

“It wasn’t for your entertainment tomato!” Ludwig shot back. He sighed as the Italian huffed and left to bed, and turned to the other champion. “Harry, could you help Feli as much as you can in the challenges? He’s only a first year; only a week of spells that he hasn’t even completely understood yet.”

“I don’t think it would be that simple. The challenges might be one at a time in a ring with a goal and a monster of some sort. I might not even be in view of the ring to help.” he voiced his thoughts.

“Please.” the German begged. “Just try as much as you could.”

“I promise.”

Somewhere in the conversation, Ron left to join Lovino to find him…crying. “You ok?” he asked.

“I fine!” the Italian defended. “Just something in my eye and a runny nose. I think I might be getting sick.”

Ron saw through his lie and shook his head. “It’s ok, I know how you feel.” Lovi eyed him with his puffy bloodshot eyes. “You think it’s easy growing up with countless older brothers, and a younger sister that your parents favor more?” he questioned. “I know you hate Feliciano, he probably got all the attention from your parents.”

“Grandpa Rome took him away to raise him simply because he was always cuter, and papa sent me away to be raised by a Spaniard.” he stated. “I look nothing like Grandpa Rome, I’m not an artist like Feliciano, and everyone always favored him because of his adorable chibi face, now he’s the most important person in the group because a fire kicked out his name!”

The two sat in silence until Ron spoke up. “I know what you mean.” he simply stated. “My mom wishes me out of her life and replaced with Harry, I have one brother in Romania studying dragons, one brother in the ministry, twin brothers who know everything there is to know about sweets and fireworks, and a little sister that my parents couldn’t be prouder of.” he listed. “Me? I’m a worthless, common fourth year with no knowledge of anything. Everyone compares me to my brothers and sister. When they aren’t, they’re comparing me to Harry.”

His voice grew cold. “What did Harry do to deserve it anyway?! So what if he survived as an infant against the darkest wizard who ever lived? We already know that it was never his doing to begin with! It was his mother’s love that saved him! Just when I think that Harry Potter wouldn’t get more famous, he’s now a Triwizard Champion!”

Lovino was silent as he listened to Ron, and pictured him being compared to his younger brother his whole life. He smiled at the ginger. “I think you and I are going to be very good friends over the year.” he stated, smiling mischievously and smacking Ron’s back encouragingly.

“By the way…” Ron started, catching something Lovino said before. “Who’s “Grandpa Rome”?”

Lovino’s eyes shot wide at his mistake. He put on a strained smile and nervous laugh. “My family is so uncreative, we named everyone after a country or Empire.” he covered up. “I even have an uncle named China because we are so bland and uncreative.” He continued to laugh nervously. “For the members of my family that aren’t named after a region, they are nicknamed after one. My family calls me Romano, Ludwig’s is Germany, and Feliciano’s is Italy.” His eyes shot even wider as he clamped his mouth shut. “I’ve said too much already!” he mumbled past his closed hand.

Posted in Blogs, Elements of Disharmony

Elements of Disharmony: Hetalia

Welcome to my interpretation of the Elements of Disharmony from all forms of Hetalia, including all the seasons and the movie, though I will NOT look at 2p Hetalia because that would simply be too easy. I may also reference history due to Hetalia being based on the passage of historical events, however, the characters themselves will earn their elements through their own personality traits shown in the show. To see the rules, please read the Intro. I will NOT be recycling characters from last week’s blog.

To begin, let’s look at Betrayal. America will not do much for others, even his own allies, without something in return and will pin blame on whoever is most convenient.

Next down the list in Cruelty. Romano is blunt, short-tempered, and unforgiving. If you even look at him, he will pop off on you and not apologize for any of the cruel things he’ll say or do.

I’m gonna cheat a little for Deceit. Prussia lies to himself for the sake of his own ego. he’ll sugar coat and exaggerate to make himself appear as the superior person.

For Dispair, I choose Belarus, the one person who can strike fear to the heart of even Russia, who would take this spot if it weren’t for the little yandere sister.

Greed is simply Netherlands. The phrase he lives by has been “Money makes the world go ’round” ever since he saw how much better off Belgium was in comparison to himself.

Finally, Russia is Magic because of his destructive nature. He actually reminds me of Pyro from Team Fortress, who inflicts destruction and pain joyfully, and believing that it’s socially acceptable.

So, to sum up, America is Betrayal, Romano is Cruelty, Prussia is Deceit, Belarus is Dispair, Netherlands is Greed, and Russia is Magic.

Sorry about this being so short, but I’m simply in a “short, sweet, and to the point” kind of mood. Still, do you agree? Disagree? Did I forget something? Leave your input in the comments below, and have a beautiful rest of your day~!

Hey, do you like ponies? Of course, you do since you’re on a blog about ponies! Come to deviantart, where AnimeAngel120, one of my best friends, and the one who taught me almost everything I know about digital art, is drawing commissioned art of ponies! I’m doing the same thing! Check us out!

Posted in Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire, Stories

Chapter 2; The Goblet of Fire

“Your attention please!” an old man shouted after everyone was sorted. “For all you first years, I am Professor Dumbledore, Head Master of Hogwarts. I am pleased to inform you that Hogwarts won’t only be your home this year, but also home to other schools. There is a reason we gathered schools from all over Europe, but more of that later.” Feliciano was confused as to why he brought up the subject only to dismiss it. “For now, please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Bobaton’s French Academy of Magic, and their head mistress, Madam Maxiem.”

Everyone looked at the entrance as a formation of girls entered, prancing their way to the front. “Germany would more than welcome those girls.” Feli mumbled to himself, low enough so no one would hear him.

“Now I introduce our friends from the north in the Proud school of Dermstrang, and their head master, Egal Carcaroff.”

A scary group of men came in, blurring walking sticks, and blowing fire dragons that caused Feli to cower behind his cat. “Think they can show me that trick?” Ludwig asked Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“I doubt it.” Ron stated across the table. “That’s super advanced magic.” Ludwig slumped in disappointment, then jumped when lightning jolted in the large room. In a flash of light, Feliciano was burying his face under Ludwig’s cloak, and an odd man walked out putting his wand away.

“Did that guy over there fix the li-Feliciano?” Ludwig turned his attention to his shaking cloak, lifting it from Feliciano’s head. “How did you get here so quickly?”

“You know how fast I can run when I’m scared.” he stated.

Lovino face palmed. “It’s a wonder how I’m related to you.” he grumbled as he grabbed Feli by his hood and dragged him back to his table.

“That’s Mad-Eye Moody.” Ron answered Ludwig’s first question.

“Alistair Moody?” Hermione asked. “The aura?”

“Aura?” Ludwig asked.

“Dark wizard capturer.” the ginger answered again. “I heard that he got mad after he lost his eye and leg in a duel, forced to retire.” They eyed the man who fit his name perfectly. His face was on a locked scowl, and his mechanical handicapped eye made him look somehow more…mentally challenged than he probably did before the accident…if it even was.

“I am happy to announce,” Dumbledore continued. “that Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event, the Triwizard Tournament.” From this, whispers erupted from the students. “This is to challenge one student from three schools to compete in three extremely dangerous tasks.”

“Wicked.” Twin gingers smiled and stated in unison.

“The students will be decided by this object.” The students watched as Dumbledore uncovered an old fashioned, large goblet that burst into blue flame. “The Goblet of Fire,” he started. “is what sets a student to sign up for this competition. Eternal glory awaits the winner of the tournament. Remember, if chosen, you stand alone. Trust me when I say, these tasks are not for the faint-hearted. Those of you who wish to take the risk, write your name on a parchment, and cast it into the flame before this hour next Tuesday night. Bear in mind, once you sign up, there’s no turning back. As of this moment, the Triwizard Tournament has begun.”

After the meal, Ludwig, Lovino, and Feliciano went to a secluded room. “We should tell Arthur about this, it could be the danger here that he was going on about.” Ludwig suggested.

“I still vote that this was a stupid idea, and we should go home.” Lovino complained.

“You mean about the goblet?” Feliciano asked the German as he nodded.

“Whatever!” Lovi stormed away. “I’m going to find those other kids and find out where my bed is!”

Ludwig looked at a clock. “Well, it is getting late, and we could have classes tomorrow.” he stated. “You go off to bed, I’ll send Gilbert to Arthur.”

“You sure?” he asked as the blond nodded. “Buona Notte!” he called as he raced through the halls, following some Ravenclaws.

Ludwig took a paper, quill, and ink, sat in the library, and wrote a report. “Arthur, You were right, there is something dangerous going on here. Something called the Triwizard Tournament. For the few hours that I’ve been acquainted with Harry Potter, it seems that he thinks nothing dangerous can happen to him here. But when Dumbledore described the tasks, it seems that no contestant would have a safety guarantee even if he wanted. He decides the champions next Tuesday, and I don’t know if Harry has the nerve to sign up for it or not. I don’t think Lovino would be much help either, is it too late to send him back? Ludwig.” He rolled up the paper, stuck it in Gilbert’s beak, and sent him out the window. As the owl flew out of sight, Ludwig caught up with the rest of Gryffindors to find the dorms, and go to bed.

The next morning, Ludwig, Lovino, and Feliciano found Hermione studying near the Goblet of Fire. Oddly, the goblet had a levitating circle around it. “What’s that?” Lovi asked.

“I’m looking it up right now…” she answered half mindedly, scanning the book in her lap until she snapped straight, and pointed to a spot on the page. “An age line.” she stated. “It says here that only if a person has the correct age group can he or she cross the line without risk.”

“What age do you think that line is set to?” Feli asked.

“If the age line is there in the first place, around the entire perimeter of the goblet, it’s obviously older than a first year’s age.” Ludwig pointed out. “If I were Dumbledore, I would put an age line set to eighteen at least for signing up for something this dangerous.” he explained as he turned back to Hermione. “Is there some way to tell what the age limit is?” he asked, knowing he shouldn’t, but still, curiosity over powered him.

“Judging from these notes, and the rings on the age line, I’d say seventeen.” she stated. “Well, see you three around, I should get to class.”

Ludwig eyed the goblet. He was over twenty only a few days before, maybe… He slid his foot over the line, and was immediately blasted across the room with an electric shock. Feliciano raced to his aid as Lovino didn’t seem fazed. “I guess now we know that not even magic knows our true age.” he grimaced.

“You idiota potato lover!” Lovi scolded. “In case you forgot, we aren’t even in PUBERTY YET!”

“How about you yell a little louder,” Ludwig scolded right back. “I don’t think Alfred heard you!”

As the two continued to butt heads, Feliciano coward under the bench. They finally stopped when young adults entered the room with signed parchments, and they left, not planning on returning to that room.

Soon, Gilbert came back with a letter from Arthur. Ludwig opened it and read, “Ludwig, Feliciano, and Lovino, Though Harry wouldn’t willingly sign up for the tournament, he has a lot of enemies, some might be at the school, who would enter him without a second glance, despite rules Dumbledore most likely put on the subject. All I could tell you is to keep him, or anyone who looks out of place, away from the goblet, and yes. It is too late to send Lovino back. Arthur.”

They didn’t see the goblet again until the next Tuesday at the decision ceremony. The three schools gathered again in the Great Hall. Dumbledore gazed at all the students, then the goblet. The flame turned red, then spewed out a parchment. “Dermstrang Champion, Victor Crum!” he announced as Victor walked to the front with his head high. The fire again changed to red and deposited another parchment. “Champion for Bobaton’s, Flure Delaquore!” Flure smiled rosily, and shook Dumbledore’s hand firmly, joining Victor in confidence. The fire illuminated red once more and threw out another parchment. “Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Digory!” Cedric let out a sigh of relief, earning multiple pats on the back as he joined Flure and Victor.

“We now have our three champions, in the end, only one will go down in history.” Behind the professor, a covered object was placed on a table. “Only one will hoist this vessel of victory, the Triwizard Cup!” cheers exploded from everyone in the hall except one man.

A pail man with black hair, eyes, and clothing who is only recognized as Professor Snape, eyed the goblet curiously as it emitted red a fourth time. Dumbledore looked back and caught the two parchments roughly thrown out of the flame. He read them both aloud in horror, and anger. “Harry Potter, and Feliciano Vargas.”

Posted in Feliciano and the Goblet of Fire, Stories

Chapter 1; School Prep

Germany wished he never asked exactly how old he would have to be for this mission. Britain gave the three supply lists, showered them in galleons, sickles, and knuts, made them to “proper age”, and handed them flue powder, instructing them on how to use it correctly.

The German didn’t like this idea, but he already agreed to it. He fidgeted with his eleven-year-old body as England gave them instructions on where to go and what to do. “Remember, when people ask your names, give them your human names. No one can know that you are immortal countries. If I, god forbid, have to send you a howler, then I would have to be careful as to how I word it, and you would have to read between the lines.”

“Question!” Italy waved his hand in the air, his voice even higher than usual. “What’s a howler?”

“A howler,” Britain started. “is a verbal letter. It magically voices the letters message, and usually uses the writer’s voice.”

Italy nodded understandingly, then looked up at the fidgety German. “Germany, what’s a howler?” he repeated.

Though he didn’t want to know what Britain’s spell did to his voice, he sighed reluctantly in a voice twice as high as it normally is. “A howler is a talking paper.” he answered.

“How did you not get that?!” Romano yelled, also with a premature voice.

Britain ignored the fact that Italy just repeated the question to someone else and continued to explain. “Here are your robes, as soon as you get to Digon Ally, change into them immediately, or better yet, put them on before you get there so that it would be less obvious that you are different. Be sure to get all your supplies today, the train leaves tomorrow at exactly eleven o’clock. Once you get to the train station,” he passed out three tickets. “find a woman by the name of Weasley. Her job is to help first years to the platform before the train leaves. Once you leave the train, you follow a man named Hagrid. He will lead you to the castle, and to Professor McGonagall, who will lead you to the Great Hall, and you will be sorted into houses.”

“Sorted?” Germany asked in an unusually high voice. “By what? Will they separate me from Italy?!”

“They sort you by personality, and judging from how different you are, there is a good chance you three could be separated, but just for sleeping arrangements.” he explained.

Italy started to cling to Germany’s arm. “No! No! No! Don’t leave me alone Doitsu!”

“I won’t leave you alone, not by a long shot.” he sighed. “Now get off me!”

After changing into their robes, they double checked to make sure they had everything. When they were satisfied, they climbed into the fireplace one by one, dropping the flue powder to their feet. In a flash of green flames, they transferred from Britain’s lair to a sunny market. They reunited not long after they climbed out, but Italy kept on clinging to Germany. “Don’t leave me Germany!”

“SH!” he quickly sealed his mouth. “It’s Ludwig, remember “Feliciano”? We need to get accustomed to responding to our human names.” Feli didn’t seem fazed. “Lovino,” he sighed. “can you do something? He’s your bruder.”

“What do you expect me to do?” Lovi asked. “He does it to me all the time and everything I do never works.”

Ludwig sighed again and looked at his list. “First thing we need is a wand.” he read off the paper. After asking around, they ended up at Olivander’s. Ludwig entered first since the Italians were terrified with the shadowy, dark, and mysterious shop, though one of the brothers didn’t admit his fear. “Hello?” the German called in the dark shop. “My friends and I can use some assistance in purchasing a wand!”

A sudden thumping sound startled them as Feliciano and Lovino jumped behind Ludwig, trembling in fear. An old man eyed them with shocking blue eyes and wild white hair. “I’ll start with you Mr…”

“Ludwig.” he answered.

“Ludwig.” the man repeated as he pulled out a box. “Try this.” The blond took the wand and gave it a whip. Perhaps I could straighten those pictures. he thought, but the frames exploded, causing the Italians to continue trembling. “Apparently not.” the man observed calmly as he handed him another. Maybe I can clean that mess I just made. he thought as he whipped the new wand, only to cause an eruption of fire. “Defiantly not!” the man exclaimed, putting out the flames.

It went on like that for a few more minutes until Ludwig found his match, then it was Feliciano’s turn. It took him longer to find a good wand, and the one that actually worked was a simple ten-inch wand with no special design. Lovino practically wrecked the shop with the hundreds of wands he tried, when his wand was Feli’s twin all along, only slightly darker.

They paid the old man for the wands. Despite the man’s protests of “It happens all the time”, Ludwig added a tip to help with the destruction that they caused.

They gathered the rest of their supplies with much more ease. Feliciano looked at the bottom of his list ‘Owl, cat, or toad’. “Ludwig! We should get a kitty!”

“Why?” he asked flatly, passing by the pet store.

“I agree with Feli of this one Ludwig,” Lovino stated. “It says on the school supply list to have an owl, cat, or toad.”

“It says “if they desire”.” he read. “Meaning that it’s not required.”

“Here, owls are modes of mail,” Lovi argued. “we don’t know if the school will have extra owls, and we can’t risk keeping Britain’s owl. What if he has something important to say to us?” Ludwig thought for a moment. “He’ll need his owl to send the message without sticking out like a sore thumb.”

With a sigh, he walked into the pet store and came out with a freshly hatched white owl with shocking red eyes. Gilbert, he named the pet. Though he wouldn’t admit it, he missed his brother. Lovino bought a small green baby turtle, naming it Antonio. He too missed his caretaker, but would never say so aloud. Feliciano had a small golden brown kitten, giving it the name Itala, after the cat he left at home.

Satisfied with their supplies and pets, they searched for the Weasley woman that Britain told them to find. In a book shop, they found a ginger woman with so many ginger kids, they lost count, a black haired boy, and a dirty blond girl. Ludwig walked up to the woman with Lovino and Feliciano trailing behind. “Excuse me!” he called out. The woman turned to the sound of a voice. “Are you Mrs. Weasaly?”

“Yes I am dear.” she stated sweetly. “Have we met?”

“Not exactly,” he stated. “My name’s Ludwig, and these are my friends, Feliciano, and Lovino.” They waved hello before Ludwig continued. “Our other friend, Arthur Kirkland, told us to find a woman named Weasley after we get our school supplies.”

“He told us you’d help us find the train.” Feli continued.

“We’re “first years” in case you didn’t know.” Lovi grumbled, making air quotes with his fingers when he said “first years”.

“Where are your parents?” she asked.

“Arthur is like our father figure, and he had more important things to do.” the German lied. “He’s the one who sent us off to school with the money for our supplies.”

Suddenly, Mrs. Weasley’s face filled with pity. “Then come with me boys, you are more than welcome to stay with us for the night.” She guided the three boys to the cluster of other kids ranging from thirteen to young adult. “Everyone, these three boys will be joining us for the night, and join you on the train.” she announced.

The black haired kid walked up to them and shook their hands. “I’m Harry, Harry Potter.” he introduced. “And these are my friends, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley.” he informed, gesturing to the kids behind him.

“I’m Ludwig Doitsu, this is Feliciano, and Lovino Vargas.” he stated, shaking Harry’s hand and gesturing for the Italians to do the same. They stayed with the cluster and spent the night at the Weasley’s home.

Ludwig gazed up at the stars out the window, sitting on the sill and wondering what the next day would bring as Feli and Lovi were fast asleep. “Curious, isn’t it?” he heard a voice over the snoring. He whipped his head around to see Harry walk up. “Your first day of your first year.” he continued as he pulled up a chair and sat next to him.

The German sighed. “Arthur told us that it would be very dangerous this year, and the more I think about it, the more I regret dragging Feliciano and Lovino into this mess.”

Harry looked taken aback. “Arthur doesn’t know what he’s talking about, Hogwarts is the safest place in the world.”

He looked at the boy across from him and sighed. “I hope your right.” He walked over to his makeshift bed, and shut out the light, closing his eyes. Harry eyed him curiously, and left for his bed, yawning as he shut the door.

“Buona Notte Doitsu.” Feli breathed dreamily.

The next morning, the three strained to keep up with the Weasleys. They rushed to the platform, but the German and Italians were surprised to see that there were only platforms 9 and 10, no 9 3/4. They stopped in front of a brick wall and watched as the Weasleys ran through it like thin air.

Mrs. Weasaly looked back to see the three first years are the only ones left, and they looked terrified. “Do you think I should run into the wall Gilbert?” Ludwig asked, then threw his hands in the air. “Listen to me! I’m talking to a bird named after my bruder!”

The woman let out a giggle as Feli pressed himself on the opposite wall, Lovi leaned back fearfully, and Ludwig clutched his head frustratingly. “Need help?” she chuckled.

“I change my mind!” Feli squeaked. “I don’t want to go to school! Arthur can homeschool me!”

“You coward!” Lovi accused his younger brother. “If you weren’t so close to Ludwig, then we wouldn’t be running into a brick wall on purpose! Now you’re backing out?!”

“Can you please just tell us what to do?” Ludwig sighed frustratingly, holding Lovino back to prevent a beating on Feliciano’s part.

Letting out another giggle, Mrs. Weasaly pointed to the wall. “Just walk straight through the wall between platforms 9 and 10.” she instructed.

After a lot of convincing, Ludwig got Lovino and Feliciano to run through the brick wall (more like throwing their stuff through, and telling them to get it themselves), and they barely made the train in time.

They looked from seat to seat. “Full, full, full, full, full,” Ludwig mentally documented. They finally came to a spot that had just enough room. He opened the sliding door and looked up to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “Do you mind if we sit with you?” he asked. “Everywhere else is full.”

“Not at all.” Hermione stated as Ludwig let the Italians in before him. Feliciano sat up with excitement, clutching his kitten. Lovino slumped in the seat, crossing his arms and scowling out the window with his turtle on top of his head. Ludwig sat straight up and folded his hands in his lap with his chick owl on his arm. “What are your pets’ names?” Hermione asked, sparking conversation.

“This little owl is Gilbert,” Ludwig introduced. “I already regret naming him that.”

“Why?” she asked.

“That’s my “awesome bruder”s name.” She furrowed her brows at Ludwig’s odd imitation of his brother while Feliciano giggled at the impersonation.

She took a deep breath, reminding herself that they are first years, and must be treated as such. “What about you?” she smiled to Lovino.

“It’s a turtle named Antonio.” he grumpily stated before going back to scowling out the window.

“Ok…” she mouthed to herself before smiling at Feliciano. “What’s your cat’s name?”

“Itala!” he said happily.

“You already have a cat named Itala.” Ludwig reminded.

“I miss him, so I got a kitty and named him Itala Junior!” Ludwig groaned at his immaturity.

The rest of the ride was silent with nothing more to talk about as Harry sent his owl out the window with a letter in her beak.

They arrived at the school, where first years were being separated from the upper classmates. They were led over the lake, through the doors, and to a thin, bony woman that could only be Professor McGonagall. “Welcome to Hogwarts.” she announced like it was a recording of an old routine. “In a few moments, you will pass through these doors, and join your classmates, but first you must be sorted into Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. While you’re here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn your points, rule breaking will take away points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup. The Sorting Ceremony will begin.”

She led them through the large doors to reveal a huge room with no roof, and floating candles. They all walked along the path between the tables, and the Professor stood next to an old hat with a scroll in her hand. “When I call your name, you will sit on this stool, I’ll place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses.” She lifted the hat to reveal a stool as she read the first name. “Lovino Vargas!”

The Italian took a deep breath and sat on the stool as the Professor weighed his head down with the thick hat. “Odd young man…Romano.”

“You know?” he asked in his head.

As if reading his mind, the hat answered. “Yes, I know you were sent here by Britain himself…let me see…bad temper, easily offended, quick to attack, I know!” he swapped from speaking in Lovino’s head to announcing out loud, “GRIFFENDORE!”

The crowd cheered as Lovi raced to the table and Professor McGonagall called the next name. “Feliciano Vargas!”

Feli continued clinging to Ludwig’s arm, so Ludwig walked up and pushed Feli off his arm in front of the teacher. The fearful Italian sat on the stool. “Definitely not Gryffindor like your brother…Italy.”

“How do you know who I am?” he cried.

“I read your thoughts.” the hat responded. “Quite knowledgeable, never offensive, I know!” he announced to the entire Great Hall, “RAVENCLAW!”

More cheers erupted as Feli tried to pull Ludwig to follow him to the Ravenclaw table, but then the Professor called, “Ludwig Doitsu!”

The German walked up to the teacher and sat on the stool like his friends did before. “Another odd one…Germany right?”

“You won’t tell anyone…would you?” Ludwig asked, slightly fearful in the fact that he was figured out by a hat.

“No, I wouldn’t even if I could.” he promised as he examined Ludwig’s traits. “Protective, hardworking, better be…” he paused as he swapped to announcement mode. “GRIFFENDORE!”

More applaud as he ran to join Lovino. Only one person wasn’t cheering, and he was the lone Italian at Ravenclaw. He gulped in the knowing fear of being left abandon. If this was supposed to be the most dangerous year at Hogwarts yet, then he wanted to run all the way back to Grandpa Rome, sobbing the whole way.