PROLOGUE: ARRANGEMENTS

England stared gloomily at his copy of the Daily Prophet. Just like every edition for nearly the entire summer, it had a story on how Sirius Black was still evading capture. Today's was rather small, thankfully, hidden amongst minor stories and advertisements. It was composed of the writer's unsubtle hints that the Ministry's incompetence at apprehending the dangerous criminal was a sure sign that Fudge should resign and let someone like Dumbledore take over his post.

There was a knock at the sitting room door, making England look up. A house elf pushed open the door and made his way over, just barely balancing a tea tray in one hand. "Your tea is ready, sir!" he squeaked. "And Professor Dumbledore is just walking up the drive! Shall I greet him?"

England nodded. "If you don't mind. Thank you, Brownie." While the house elf hurried off to the door, England poured himself a cup of tea and took a large gulp of it. He felt his spirits rise as soon as it hit his taste buds. There was nothing like a good cup of tea to prepare yourself for company.

By the time Albus Dumbledore entered the room, England felt cheerful enough to genuinely smile at him. "Hello, Albus. I'm glad you were able to make it."

"I am pleased as well, England." The headmaster sat down in the chair opposite England's. As the nation poured him some tea, he added, "To be honest, I was surprised to receive your letter. You seemed quite certain when you turned down my offer last year. What changed your mind?"

"All of last year," said England, handing Albus his tea. "And the year before it, as well. I mean, first You-Know-Who tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone, then his memory or whatever was in that diary opened the Chamber of Secrets and Petrified several students, and both of them tried to kill Harry Potter. And now Sirius Black, one of his greatest supporters and the reason that Lily and James Potter are dead, is on the loose and will probably also try to kill Harry. I think you'll need all the help you can get."

"The last few years have been odd, to say the least," noted Albus as he drank his tea. "I'm glad your concern for Voldemort's return has finally outweighed your dislike of America's company."

"Just barely," said England dryly. "So, am I hired?"

Albus smiled at him and raised an eyebrow. "Was there ever any doubt? Not many History of Magic teachers have first-hand knowledge of the events they are teaching. I'm sure the students will find it enlightening. Their response to Professor Binns' approach has left much to be desired, such as NEWT classes that number in the double digits."

England chuckled at the joke. "I'll do my best."

The rest of Albus' visit was more social. They discussed recent events other than Black's escape, such as the Weasley family winning a lottery. England didn't know them all that well, but they seemed like very nice people who deserved a bit of good fortune. The headmaster of Hogwarts was a busy man, however, and it felt like far too short a time before he had to leave to attend to other pressing business. Once he was gone, England went to his study to start on the arrangements required for him to teach at Hogwarts for a few years.

First of all, he'd need someone to represent the United Kingdom at the world meetings. It was bad enough having America and Canada absent for most of the year. If the UK dropped out, too, the tiny amount of progress those meetings managed to make would probably vanish. The candidates were Scotland, Northern Ireland and Wales. England tried to picture Scotland at a world meeting. Let's see… he'd probably show up drunk with Nessie in tow and try to start a fight with some powerful nation we really don't want as an enemy. No, he won't do. He tried to picture Northern Ireland next. Well, he'd certainly be good at intimidating the other nations, but he's not exactly stable right now. I don't want to get an angry letter saying he's blown up the meeting hall or something. Not him, either. Which just left him with Wales. Great. I'm left with the guy whose only methods of social interactions are 'yelling and arguing' and 'crying and stammering'. That idiot will probably ruin everything, but it looks like he's the best option. God help us all.

England picked up his phone, dialed in Wales' number, and waited impatiently for him to pick up. He didn't have to wait very long, thankfully. It was only about two rings before there was the click of someone picking up on the other end and a sullen voice said, "Hello?"

England took a deep breath and said in his friendliest voice, "Hello, Wales, it's England. How are you doing today?"

"Worse now that you've called," Wales growled. "Stop trying to be friendly, you're rubbish at it. Just get to the point in the most offensive way possible. That's something you're very good at."

Ignoring the insult (he'd gotten far worse from Wales), England said, "Fine. I'm going to be teaching at Hogwarts, and I need you to represent the UK at the world meetings."

For a few moments there was absolute silence over the line. Not even the static that accompanied breathing. England was just about to ask whether Wales was still there when he heard a sudden intake of breath and held the phone away from his ear just in time. "WHAT?! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, HALIWR?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY – YOU'RE – WHAT?!"

"It's not that hard to understand," said England. "I'm going to be the new History of Magic professor at Hogwarts, and I need someone to represent the UK at the world meetings. You're… the best candidate." He tried to make those last three words sound natural, but he just couldn't manage it. He still couldn't quite believe them.

"Why are you going to Hogwarts?" Wales demanded. At least yelling seemed to have calmed him down a bit.

"You know how important Harry Potter is for our continued wellbeing, right?" asked England.

"Of course," huffed Wales. "I heard the prophecy, too. Despite what you seem to think, information doesn't just go in one of my ears and out the other."

"And you know that Sirius Black is on the loose."

"Yes. I'm not completely unaware of current events, Lloegr."

England waited for Wales to put two and two together. After ten seconds of silence, he couldn't take it any longer. "Wales, you daft-" He cut himself off before he could say something he'd regret. "I'm going to Hogwarts to protect Harry! It's not that hard to figure out if you use any brainpower whatsoever!"

"Well, I'm sorry we can't all be geniuses!" Wales snapped. After a few moments of silent fuming he admitted, "I suppose that's a good reason to go. Wait, America's still going, right?"

"Yes," said England, not liking how pleased Wales sounded. "Why?"

The older nation chuckled. "Oh, nothing. Nothing at all."

"Oh, pleased, are you?" said England peevishly. "I hope you're just as pleased when you're having to deal with France and Russia and all the others at the meeting."

That did the trick. "D-do I really have to be the one?" said Wales, sounding on the verge of going from yelling mode to crying mode. "Why can't Scotland or North do it?"

"Because they'll both probably turn up drunk and start a war," said England. "As I said, you're the best-" He stopped for a moment as his stomach suddenly heaved. "The best option," he finished once he was sure he wasn't going to throw up.

"Gee, thanks." Again, there was a pause. Then Wales abruptly wailed, "I don't wanna do it!" and burst into tears.

England rubbed his forehead. At times like this he had to remind himself that Wales was the older brother. "Wales, you'll be fine," he said, trying not to let his exasperation bleed into his tone. "I'm sure Ireland would be willing to help you out, and a lot of the people there are my old colonies. You always got along with them, right?"

"I-I guess," mumbled Wales. "B-but I won't know a lot of them, and everyone will be like 'Where's England? Wh-who's this guy sitting in his chair?' and that Russia guy sounds really scary and France will be all pervy and I just know I'll mess it up and- and-"

"Cymru!" Wales, surprised to hear the name come from England's mouth, fell silent. "If I really thought you couldn't handle it, I wouldn't have asked you," England continued. "Most of them are going to be glad to see me gone. You can bond with them over how much you hate me. It worked for Scotland and France, after all."

"I-I guess," sniffed Wales. "I do really hate you. Like, really, really, really hate you."

England sighed. "Believe me, I've noticed." He started pulling some papers out of his desk. "So, is that a yes?"

Wales sighed as well. "I… I guess so."

"Excellent. I'll send you a report on everything you should know at the end of August. And… Wales…" England took a deep breath. "Thanks for doing this."

Wales clearly hadn't been expecting this. "N-no problem," he stammered. There was a strange crackling noise in the background. "Ddraig, what are you- Y DDRAIG GOCH, STOP THAT RIGHT NOW! GWYDION IS A FRIEND, NOT BARBECUE! LAMB IS NOT ON THE MENU!"

Deciding to stay out of it, England hung up, feeling pleased at his success. Then he remembered that he'd also have to call Scotland to have him call off Peeves and slammed his head into his desk.

A/N: It's begun! And Iggy's coming to Hogwarts! HUGS FOR EVERYONE! \(^-^)/ Thank you all for your suggestions! I think I've got their Dementor visions figured out now. Don't really know what else to say. I'm kinda tired. NEXT CHAPTER: Canada and America meet up with friends in Diagon Alley. See you all next time!