Chapter 1; The beginning
Summary: Harry Potter, the boy who lived, was abandoned in the streets of London by his relatives. Harry always felt a pull to the city but couldn't tell what it was. When the Allied forces found him, he realizes that he is the city of London, and thus starts his journey of city-hood and magic.
Pairings: Russia/China, England/France, America/Canada, Harry [London]/Paris (OC)
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, which belongs to Himaruya-Sensei. Or Harry Potter, which belongs to the wonderful J.K.R.
AN: I am going to try accents. I'm not good with Chinese accents so that's out but I am going to try on Frances and Russia's. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.
He gave out a scream, tears coursing down his cheeks as he tried his best not to scream. The reason for this? His uncle. Why does his uncle not love him? He always tried his best- but not the best he could be, after all if he did better then his cousin he would get beaten. He always made food for his relatives, again as best as he can. But it was never enough. Never.
His uncle grunted. "Stupid freak, just like his parents…" He took him by the shirt collar and threw him into the cupboard. Silent tears streamed down his face. Why? Why couldn't he have died with his parents in the car accident? He shook his head. There was no use in 'what ifs' and 'what woulds'. He looked to the wall in the cupboard his eyes glazing over silently.
Some times he would have strange dreams and visions as if he was there in person. And in the visions he always had the same name. 'Harry'. His name. And he was always with another man, someone that was older then him but was still a teenager. He looked to the side the vision taking over his mind in an instant.
"Harry, this is William. He is a very good writer. We are going to be watching his plays later today, remember?" The man said, smiling. He couldn't see the other mans face but he could tell he was smiling. All he could see was green eyes. So much like his own. His father? No it couldn't be.
"William?" His other self asked, a smile tugging on his lips as well. "It is very nice to meet you, sir."
"And you mine, young Harry…"
William, William. Where had he heard that before? A good play writer too? That sounded like William Shakespeare but… that was impossible right? Surely that wasn't him. He wasn't that old. (1)
He rubbed his hand across his eyes, wiping away tears and blood. He looked around once more. He hoped that someone would come for him, hoping that one day some un-known relation would come and take him and love him.
But was it all for nothing?
"Boy, up! UP!" His aunt's voice screeched as he rubbed at his eyes at the sudden onslaught of light. He grimaced a little. When he was up and out of the cupboard his Aunt threw a towel at him. "Here, go take a shower. I want you down here in TEN MINUTES."
He stood there confused for a second. His aunt? Letting him take a shower? This was getting weirder and weirder by the minute. But he didn't fight it and took a shower getting the blood off him. He scrubbed himself red. After he was done with his shower he got dressed, and sighing, made himself go down stairs.
"Boy, we are going to London and you are going with us!" His uncle screamed at him, causing spittle to go on his face. He grimaced.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon… " He replied tonelessly. Gods! He was going to London! He never got the chance to go to different places because the Dursley's didn't like to take him places where he could rub his freakishness off on people. But he was going somewhere.
And deep in his soul, something broke tugging Harry to want to go to London even more. A kind of pull he had never felt before.
And it felt good.
The car turned onto a street that wasn't very busy. Harry could see an Ally way. He looked at his uncle confused. His uncle sneered at him before getting out of the car and dragging him out of it. Harry hit his head on the pavement.
"And good riddance to you, you freak!" His Uncle yelled before driving off. Harry looked around. His uncle just abandoned him. He was all alone in a place he didn't know… no wait. He knew. Somehow he knew. It was like he grew up here. He knew the roads by heart. He could feel the people here; feel the happiness, the sorrow. He could feel the city.
He went off to where a building was and sat down on the ground, leaning his head back onto the brick. He looked up at the clear blue as tears started to fall.
Today was not a good day for one Arthur Kirkland, aka England.
It was the anniversary of his Capitals, London's, death. Of course, England hadn't understood how his Capital was dead but yet the city still flourishing. He shook his head as he entered his bathroom to take a shower and brush his teeth.
He had another dream last night, of a boy in a cupboard with black hair and bright green eyes. My eyes a voice in the back of his head kept insisting. He couldn't possibly be another city; every city had a human form already. Except London! The voice persisted. But could London really be back. Could his Harry be back?
Giving another sigh, he made his way out of his house. He was meeting up with the rest of the allies today to go out in town. He gave a small smile. He would never admit it but being around the rest of them helped him a bit. Of course being around Alfred helped too. He never told Alfred but even if the looked close to the same age now he thought of the American as another of his sons. Of course all they did now a days was fight but that was fine. He made the dull ache in his lessen.
Walking out of the house and locking up, he started walking to where he was meeting up with the other countries. What he arrived to was Ivan playing with Yao's hair, the Chinese man blushing at the Russian and complaining, pouting every other second.
Francis was trying to get a date with some of the citizens, but he was failing miserably. One woman took one look at him and kicked him in the crotch, laughing as she walked away. Alfred was sitting on the street curb eating a hamburger.
He continued to walk to them and they all looked to him.
"Ni-Hao Arthur!" The Chinese man greeted him.
"Privyet, England!" Ivan greeted, continuing to play with Yao's hair.
"Bonjour, Arthur…" Francis looked at him, seeing his grief stricken face. "You do not look so good. Is it 'Arry, non?" Arthur looked at him and nodded silently.
"Harry again, Iggy?" Alfred said walking over to his ex-parent. Even Alfred was silent at this. He knew how much London meant to England. He was even good friends with the city when they were younger. He was hurt to when Harry suddenly died in WWII. He remembered that Harry had a friend back then in the 40's, a kid named Tom or something like that. (2)
"Yeah, its just… Something doesn't feel right…" He whispered the last part. He could feel the people in this city sure; he could feel the whole country because that's what he was, the country. But ever since London died he could feel London even more but now it felt as it had when London was alive… when London was alive… when London was alive! How could he be so stupid if this was what he was feeling then London must have been born again!
He looked around as if he would see his son again. Everyone looked at him.
"Arthur, aru, are you okay?" Yao asked concerned. In all his years he had never seen England like that, so frantic, searching. Even during the wars and his pirate years he was never like that.
"Iggy…" Alfred began. "What is wrong?"
"I feel him! Harry! Harry is in the city!" He smiled. They looked at him as if he was crazy. Had he finally cracked?
"Arthur, 'Arry eez not alive. 'Ee eez not 'ere…" Francis said, putting his arm onto Arthur's arm.
"Get the bloody hell off my arm, frog!" Arthur screamed, turning around; starting to run off to one of the side streets, he could feel him. He could feel Harry was over there only a little bit farther.
The rest of the Allies could do nothing but watch him run away. Alfred turned to him, his face serious. "We should go with Iggy, if it's not Harry then we could comfort him…"
"Oui, I agree weez Alfred…" Francis agreed. Ivan nodded and Yao smiled shakily, his hand in Russia's.
"Okay, aru. Lets go…"
Arthur ran down the street, what was London doing down here? Doesn't he know that it's dangerous, the poor boy. A couple more feet, he could hear crying, a couple more, his heart ached, a couple more, he could see black unruly hair, and he was there.
"What are you doing here young man?" He asked the boy, who he was sure was London. The boy looked up into his eyes; his emerald green eyes.
"My aunt and uncle abandoned me here…" The boy sobbed, putting his arms around his legs. He could hear the others catch up with him.
"I see, why would they say that?" He looked at him fearfully.
"Because I'm a freak. I can do things other can't."
"I see…" The boy looked at him, opening his mouth but closing it immediately. Arthur raised an eyebrow at this. "What is it?"
"Y-You… you look like the man in my dreams…" He said shyly. Arthur looked at him shocked. He was having dreams about him? The boy looked at him afraid. "Oh no, I shouldn't have told you that, now you are going to leave me aren't you? A-At least take me to an orphanage please?" Arthur clenched his fists. How dare his relatives be mean to him? Even if he were not his Harry he would help him.
"I'm not going to leave, little one. What is your name?" The boy looked him in the eyes, eyes so similar and yet the same as his. He could tell the other where right behind him.
The four remaining Allies ran as quickly as they could.
"Damn, Iggy can run like the wind!" Alfred laughed, the rest of them glared at him as he scowled at him. He huffed before looking in front of him. After 3 minutes they finally caught up with them, they saw Arthur crouched down next to a young boy with black hair but with green eyes. London's eyes.
"I'm not going to leave, little one. What is your name?" They heard Arthur ask the boy. Alfred could see the tear tracks.
He looked at the boy shocked, he tried to see if he was the same as they where. Countries and Cities could tell who each other were but sometimes it was harder and you had to concentrate. Usually capitals where this way because they needed to be kept safe but many capitals already knew who each other were so they didn't need to search, likewise for countries.
What he felt made his eyes widen and his glass tint over. He balled his fist to his sides. "London…" He spoke out. The boy looked over to him, a small smile on his face.
"Yeah, that's the city we are in right? I mean, Uncle could have lied but…" He looked at the ground sadly. Arthur suddenly had the boy in his arm, the boy's eyes widened at tears started leaking out. He quickly shoved Arthur away, hissing in pain.
"'Arry, are you 'urt?" Francis asked, walking to the boy. The boy looked away, choosing not to answer the mysterious French man. "'Oo are, are 'oo not?" Harry just nodded.
"Who did this to you, Harry?" Ivan asked, his face darkening. Harry decided he liked the Russian if he cared about him. And they all did he could tell. He could also tell they are all friends.
"Uncle Vernon and Aunty Petunia. Aunt Petunia is my mum's sister…"
"And your mother and father, Harry. What happened to them, aru?" Yao asked.
"Aunty said they died in a car crash and that they where drunks and freaks. But I don't believe her. My only memory of them is… Is…" he started to cry again.
"What is the memory, Harry?" Arthur asked.
"A flash of green light and a laugh, a cold laugh…" The boy shivered. They all looked at him sadly.
"Well then!" Arthur said, a bright smile on his face, his first in so many years. "Lets take you to my home, Harry!"
"W-What? No I couldn't possibly…!"
"Nonsense, you are important Harry," Arthur smiled ", and you are important to me…" Harry looked at all of them they were smiling at him. And he couldn't help but smile back.
He had found a family.
So… I just had to write one of these myself. I thought to myself "No one has done a Harry-is-a-city fic yet, I think, so why not do it myself?" And thus this was borne… Awesome huh?
(1)It was William Shakespeare.
(2)Yes, Harry was friends with a young Voldemort. I thought it would be kinda ironic and funny.