I do not own Axis Power – Hetalia, nor Harry Potter. Even the idea of the Bad Touch Trio kidnapping Harry is not my idea. That was a fanfiction I read some time ago and can't remember where I found it and from whom it is. If you have an idea, please tell me so I can give credit where credit is due. The whole thing takes part in the summer before fifth year and will contain slash and moresomes.
It was a normal summer in Privet Drive and everyone simply ignored the boy, nearly fifteen years old. He looked like he had seen things nobody this young should have seen. His black hair was messy and untameable, his green eyes dull and lifeless behind glasses with the wrong description. Under his eyes bags of such a dark colour it was impossible to miss them, his entire body language speaking of terror and pain. Nobody noticed that the baggy clothes he always wore were even baggier this summer or that the boy had lost a great deal of his stamina and often had to pause when working in the garden or even cleaning inside the house. The name of said boy was Harry James Potter, student of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, famous for surviving the Killing Curse nobody should be able to survive and was now known under the moniker Boy-who-lived, even though he didn't really like it and hated what it entailed. At the time he got this title his parents died and he became an orphan. This was the reason he ended up with his relatives, the Dursleys. They were an unpleasant family and could be quite famous as the humanoid animals, the woman, Petunia Dursley, Harry's aunt and the sister of Harry's mother, resembled a giraffe with her long neck and horse like teeth, while the man of the house, Vernon Dursley, was a walrus. The son had seemingly the ambition to become like his father, but at the moment he rather looked like a pig wearing a blond wig.
So far Harry's summer was horrid as ever, but the Dursleys upped the whole thing. Harry got nearly nothing to eat and had to do double the chores around the house. After two weeks back he could count his ribs and his stomach was swollen from the lack of nutrients. The boy was convinced that they wanted to kill him for real this time around. He got not enough food to live comfortable, but enough to survive on the scraps. With all the chores he really wondered that he was still alive one month after coming back. Still having two months to go before he could go back to Hogwarts he really hoped he could go to the Burrow fast. Without any sound Harry fell on the mattress he called bed for the last four years in the summer. He was tired, so tired. With an almost inaudible sigh he turned a bit and fell asleep almost instantly.
"I have had enough!" the silver-haired male shouted in frustration. It was late in the night, almost nearing midnight, and just had called a certain nation, proclaiming that "Harry Potter" just went to sleep. Prussia never even had met this Harry Potter and he held a grudge against him. Five minutes after his frustrated yell the door to the basement opened with a mighty whoosh against the wall and in came a blond-haired male with blue eyes and an equally pissed look. After him entered a brown-haired male with green eyes. The normally cheery personality of Spain seemed to be left behind as an angry flare was everything Prussia could see at the moment. The Prussian gulped in fear as the Conquistador wasn't a side of his friend he really neither liked nor got along with.
"You got the call, too?" he sardonically asked.
Both of the newly arrived just nodded and said at the same time, "It has to stop! This can't go on like this! England will drive us crazy before he goes insane himself because this Voldemort-guy started a war in his country!"
"Nun, that's a nice idea, but how do we get England to stop being obsessed over the boy?" Prussia decided to ask the question everyone was thinking.
"I know!" France suddenly yelled. The other two countries stared at him as if he'd gone insane before interest started to creep on their faces. "We simply kidnap this Harry Potter, I think, England mentioned somewhere in the book, where the boy lives, and bring him to tell England that he hates him. England will get so heartbroken that we will never ever hear of him. Do you remember that England was like this when he found America, too, until Amérique became independent?"
Yes, England was that insane over the boy that he sent every nation a book over him, what his eating habits are, when he goes to bed and even what his adventures in school are. Maybe that was the reason that many other nations would look the other way if the Bad Touch Trio really would pull this plan through. Oh, and being called at four o'clock in the morning because Harry Potter had decided to have a nightmare, thank you very much.
"That's a good idea," Prussia stated, only to be interrupted by Spain, "Ne, Francia, do you really have read the book Inglaterra has sent us?"
Prussia stopped in his tracks to gather everything needed to kidnap a teenager to stare from Spain to France.
"Frankreich?" he yelped in question. France raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow back. "Spanien, did you have to mention it?"
Spain stared at Prussia, then grinned, "Why, of course I had to. Isn't it romantic what Francia would do to be seen by Inglaterra? Isn't it sad that England isn't the mate of France?"
France growled in annoyance, "Only because Russia of all nations is his mate it does not mean that I can't try to win his heart. If I remember correctly it was you who told me so, Spain."
Spain gave a light laugh before turning to Prussia, "Who of us is going to look in the book where he lives?"
"Frankreich, obviously," the Prussian stated. "He already has read the book and just has to find the right page again." Red and green eyes bore themselves into the blond Frenchman who gulped. That was not what he planned for the night.
The next day saw three nations over in England which would never even consider going over there if they could save their lives without it. Spain had a happy smile on his face, while strolling down the road, followed by a whining France. France was simply annoyed because the weather again decided to be against him. Even though the last few days were hot like hell, this day it just had to rain and ruin his hair. Prussia was a man on a mission and nothing and nobody could stop him. Even the Devil could pop up and Prussia would simply walk past him and yell something about appointments and bad time management and how sorry the awesome him was. Probably not, but he was at least sometimes friendly.
"So, we just wait for England to call us again and tell us that the boy went to sleep again? When he does we go to Privet Drive and get Harry?" Spain asked again when they checked in the hotel. Prussia nodded because France was too busy to wring his hair dry. Spain rolled his eyes. "Do we have a plan as to where we hide him when we have him? We can't stay in the hotel with a kidnapped boy."
The Prussian sighed, but nodded again. "Ja, there is this warehouse at the other end of the city. England will probably start the search in the area where the menace lives, then he will look to where the Death Eaters live before he even considers that we nations are behind it."
"Why should he even do that? I mean nobody of us ever said anything against being annoyed to hell, right?" France finally butted into the conversation.
"Why did your brother never say anything against it, Prussia?" Spain asked, thinking of the strict German who always said what the others were thinking.
"West?!" Prussia startled asked and snorted right after that in response. "West may say and feel the same thing we do, but he would never try to talk to England about it. Our relationship with this tea drinker is already strained enough as it is, we cannot afford a break of it. What would we do, if England suddenly decided to go hermit and let us stew alone in our problems? It would be the end of us, so we keep quiet."
Before Spain could react Prussia's mobile phone started ringing and everybody held their breath. After a few seconds they heard the voice of England and heaved a relieved sigh. When they heard that Harry was asleep they grinned at each other and put on their jackets.
After two hours they knew that the mission kidnap Harry Potter was a success. The boy was tied on a chair, his head still bowed in sleep. Spain could see that it was no peaceful sleep, if the tossing of his head was any sign. Finally he woke up with a yell, in the process startling France and Prussia, both busy playing a drinking game.
"Where am I?" the boy asked fearfully. "Who are you?"
Spain couldn't help but feel for the boy a little. He had nothing to do with the obsession of England; he was just the object of it. The nation knew that the boy probably never even had met England.
"Don't worry, the awesome me will let you go as soon as you tell England that you hate him," Prussia yelled and earned a startled look in response.
"England is a country, how could I tell it that I hate it?" he responded, his green eyes still dark from the sleep he just woke from.
"England exists as a person," Spain took it upon himself to explain. "I am Spain, and over there the blonde one is France. The albino is Prussia."
Instead of immediately denying that such a thing was not possible he gave a sigh, "Look, I don't even know this England guy. How can I hate someone I have never met?" What he didn't say but thought was I don't even really hate Voldemort, so how can I convincingly say that I hate someone I've never met?
"Well, according to the book one could really think he's met you, non?" France asked and earned a confused look in response. What book? He started to panic. Spain held a book up and read a few sentences from it. Harry paled while at the same time his anger boiled. So someone was spying on him all the time and never did anything against the treatment he had to endure at the Dursleys?
Harry let out a loud growl and twisted out of the rope that held him at the chair. At the same time he lost the shirt he wore. He didn't care, that was until he swayed on his feet. The lack of food for the last month had him a bit of balance.
The nations on the other hand stared in shock at the pale torso in front of them. Every single rib was visible for them to see and the stomach of the boy was bloated. Every ounce of hate they felt disappeared as soon as they saw that. Before Harry could react he fell forward and Spain caught him. A growl went through the gathered nations. America, who just had entered the room in the mission to be THE HERO and save Harry, stared in shock at the person in Spain's arms. He went pale and turned around. Harry needed saving, yes, but not like America had planned. Instead he asked, "Where do I have to send Iggy to? I think you may want to have a word with him, right?"
"Damn right," Spain growled, followed by France and Prussia. "Send him to my house in Spain. France, gather Switzerland and the Nordics, Prussia, your brother would be greatly appreciated when I tear England a new one. America, you have the number of your brother? I think it would be wise to have a calm personality with us when we talk," Spain said tersely.
The nations made a move to leave. "You know," America suddenly started, "if I call Iggy now the chances are high that Russia and China will follow him right away."
Spain stopped in his tracks, only to throw over his shoulder, "Let them come. I have enough space in my home for them all and England has an almost nonexistent possibility to talk his way out of it."
France and Prussia wisely kept their mouths shut. They walked out and shared one look.
"I can't hate him. When I saw the six locks we picked on his door I thought they were a joke in the family and that it only happened once. From the looks of it, it happened on a regular basis and they didn't even feed the poor boy," France cried out, distress clearly on his face. One of the biggest signs that he wasn't in his normal state of mind was that he didn't care for his hair and worried more about the boy.
Prussia was shockingly silent. If his Bruder would have been there he would have been shocked beyond words. The Prussian silently agreed with France. They even made a silent joke about the locks and a challenge out of it who could pick more of them, which he had won. He felt sorry for the boy. With new resolution he planned to finally read the book England sent them. Maybe he could learn something new about him.
"Prussia, say something!" France wailed. The Prussian twitched in annoyance, but kept his silence for a few seconds after that. The Frenchman fidgeted in uneasiness. "Do you think the others in the street knew about this? I mean, they have to see him more often than us..."
"I think, that they are wilfully ignorant," Prussia finally answered, red eyes boring into the blue gaze from his companion. "They see it, but convince themselves that they are seeing things. It happens more often than one might think. Shouldn't we be happy that we can help him now instead of wailing how sorry we feel for him?"
"Dude, when did you become so wise?" a new voice interrupted. The blond and the silver-haired men turned around to see America standing under a street lamp.
"I have you know that I can be wise. It's simply annoying to be all the time. What are you even doing here, America? Shouldn't you be fetching England?"
"I called Iggy and told him that it's an emergency over in Spain's. He said he would fetch Russia and China right away. Sometimes it is plain useful that China is always near Russia."
"Well, I'll be calling Switzerland now," France said, while hailing a cab over to the airport. Prussia decided to follow the example and got into another cab while fishing for his mobile phone.
"Germany here," came the gruff voice from his Bruder over the line.
"West, it's me, your Bruder. I call because Spain called a lawsuit against England," Prussia started and right away continued because otherwise Germany would have screamed about him calling at such a late hour and the albino had better things to do, like figuring out how to get his friend out of the conquistador modus. That was an almost impossible act he could not pull alone, but he had at least to try.
"What do you mean Spain called a lawsuit against England?" West asked in shock. Prussia rolled his eyes, happy in the knowledge that his Bruder couldn't see it.
"France, Spain and I got so annoyed with England that we decided that we're going to kidnap Harry Potter in the hope that he will tell England that he hates him. I admit that it wasn't the best plan we could come up with, but it worked to the point that we had him in our custody and then everything went wrong when we told him that there is a book about him. He managed to escape the rope, but he lost his shirt in the same move. West, I could count his ribs from three kilometres down the road."
West said nothing. The silence was worse than anything he could have come up with. Prussia fidgeted in his seat while waiting for an answer.
"Spain now wants to go against England because the latter didn't see the abuse, even though there are hints in the book he's written over Harry Potter?" his Brüderchen finally asked. The Prussian heaved a relieved sigh. At least the silence was over.
"Ja," he confirmed. "I support him, by the way. That is why I called you. America fetched England, Russia and China. France called Switzerland and the Nordics, too. Spain insisted on having someone level-headed with us and told America to get Canadia or something like that and I have the task to get you over to Spain's."
West fell silent again. That was worrisome. When England was wilfully ignorant it was a bad sign. Every nation swore to help the children in their country as much as they could when they were abused. England proofed that he gave the boy much attention, the book was a dead giveaway, and he was famous. As such it should have become obvious in the first ever summer holidays the boy had after Hogwarts. Did England wilfully go against the vow every nation tried to uphold or was it simply a mistake he would beat himself up over?
"I'll be there. Hinder Spain in beating England up if that is possible. Give me an hour or so to get Austria to help me and Hungary will probably tag along," Germany said finally. Prussia set his mouth in a grim line.
"I'll try my best, but I can't make a promise. Spain's in conquistador modus. It'll be complicated as hell to hinder him on doing what he wants, even if France and America are there, too," the Prussian gave in, worry in his eyes.
"Give him something else to focus on," Ludwig suggested. "For example feeding the boy and getting him some clothes he can wear. I do not know how long ago he had something healthy to eat so make Spain make a lot of different foods. It will take his mind off of beheading England and hopefully Spain out of his conquistador modus."
Prussia nearly cried in relief. Why didn't he think this up? He was a former empire, so why was he as stupid as to oversee the most obvious of plans there could be? In moments like that he loved his little brother to the moon and back.
"Thank you, West. I'll be doing what I can. None the less, please hurry!" the albino said, ending the call after Germany's grumpy, "Jaja, shush now." At the same time the cab reached the airport. Prussia jumped out, paid the driver and got into the private plane from West. It was nothing much, sometimes West was as money obsessed as their blond, German speaking neighbour with the too many languages in one country, simply a few seats, a dark interior and a cockpit for the pilot. No fancy deco or beds in another room or even a desk other than the plastic thing from the seat in front of the other. Prussia didn't use it very often, he favoured the train and car over the planes, but at the moment he was thankful that he convinced France and Spain to use West's private plane. As such it wasn't a big surprise to see Spain pacing around, still with the small figure of Harry Potter in his arms, and France sitting on another seat, a glass of wine in front of him, observing Spain with a wary eye.
"We're ready to leave," Prussia said to the pilot who simply nodded and asked for permission to take off. Not ten minutes later they left England behind, one member more on board than before.
Somewhere in Scotland several silver instruments gave alarm. A man with twinkling blue eyes and greying hair stood in shock, when he saw that the wards had fallen around Privet Drive, while at the same time a certain binding seemed to disappear, too.
Dumbledore cursed when he saw that. He couldn't have it that the boy became independent after all. If he found the one person he didn't want Harry to meet all his careful plans would go down the drain. He couldn't have that. They had to find Harry as fast as humanly possible. Tracking charms, a tracking potion, maybe he should task Severus right away with a loyalty potion just in case.
The old man walked out of the office, while at the same time fingering a necklace in the form of a butterfly. It was like a signal for everyone in the Order of the Phoenix to gather. It would have been favourable if they could use a phoenix as necklace, but after some consideration they agreed that it would have been too obvious and a butterfly was a fascinating animal, too. Dumbledore left the wards and apparated straight to Grimmauld Place Number 12. It was a dark house, with terrible artefacts all around, the worst of all the screaming and raging portrait of the late Lady Black, one Walburga Black. Even the house elf seemed to have a touch of insanity in him as he walked around, muttering over blood traitors and mudbloods ruining the house.
When the last member filtered in, everybody turned their attention to Dumbledore. It was eerily silent in the room, only interrupted by the muttering of the house elf. Finally Sirius Black, the owner of house and elf, threw him out with a loud growl sounding more like his animagus form than the sound a human would make.
"I have to tell you that Harry Potter has disappeared," Dumbledore said with a concerned face. He was concerned, simply not over the things the others were. "The instruments tied to him stopped working and told me that the wards around Privet Drive have fallen as well. Who was the one that had to watch Harry this night?"
Mundungus Fletcher timidly raised his hands. From his look alone everyone knew that he didn't take his duty seriously and now they all had to worry.
"Oh my, we have to find him!" a worried Molly Weasley called out. "What could happen to the poor boy? Maybe even death. What do we do, Albus?"
"We use everything in our arsenal, tracking charms, tracking potions, owl post, portkey, anything that comes to mind," Dumbledore said. He was quite surprised that it was Molly first speaking and not the godfather of the boy, Sirius Black. He wondered if the man had something to do with it. If Dumbledore had known that he would have enemies worse than Voldemort at the end of the week he would have been more careful in everything he did.
That's the first chapter of, again, a crossover from Harry Potter and Axis Power Hetalia. I hope you like it and don't hate me for my first attempt at writing anything even remotely in the corner of slash romance...
Anyway, a few translations before I forget them:
Nun (German) - similar to Well
Amérique (French) - France
Francia (Spanish) - surprise, it means France!
Inglaterra (Spanish) - well, who wants to guess? England
Frankreich (German) - France
Spanien (German) - Spain
Bruder (German) - brother
Brüderchen (German) - endearment, meaning little brother
Ja (German) - yes
Jaja (German) - yes, yes (Germans like to say jaja and it means something like 'Kiss my arse', more as a joke than really serious, but good to know none the less)
Like you could have guessed, *cough*, I am German and German will come more often than not when Germany and Prussia will speak. ^^' I hope you will enjoy the fanfiction as much as I enjoy writing it.^^