Filler Chappie is Filler!

Thank you guys so much for your continued support of this fanfic! Forty Four reviews, wow! If we get up to seventy five by the end, I might even extend the fanfic in a sequel for year seven! This will not be the last chapter, maybe second to last, but it is filler because you guys have waited so long and it might be a while before the next chapter arrives. Consider this your "appetizer chapter." I just wanted to let you all know that this has NOT been dropped, even though it may seem that way. This is a pretty short chapter, but I hope you still enjoy it!

The radio crackled in the kitchen as Arthur's tea came to a boil. It was snowing outside, and dark. Around eleven PM on the twenty fourth of December.

Deck the halls with balls of holly-

"FALALALAL la la la LAH!"

Arthur jumped, nearly spilling the peppermint tea he'd been in the process of pouring.

"Jesus Christ Scott! Do you want me to burn myself?" He snapped at his brother, resisting the urge to hit him with the teapot.

"Actallly, that don't sound like too bad an idea…"

"Forgive me for asking then. What do you want?"

"What, am I not allowed to simply want to say hi to my little brother? Is that SO wrong?"

"A. You aren't my brother, B. we live in the same house and C, you're stepping on my foot."

"Ah, sorry," He didn't remove his foot "Still, it's gonna be awful quiet around here this year, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

Arthur pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down, careful not to spill his drink. Scottland wrinkled his nose at England's tea and instead took a swig from his trusty brandy bottle.

"I mean, the ol' gang's all busy. Yer kids are both at Hogwarts this year, oh well the two that matter, anyway. They're staying up there, right?"

"Yes, but America rarely comes over for Christmas and Canada's usually with France so I don't see- ah!"

England winced and put a hand to his forehead as a pain shot through it.

"Damn. They can't even give it a rest for Christmas?"

"Are you okay Artie?" Scottland suddenly dropped his usual swagger and knelt down next to the suffering nation.

It hadn't been good. Fenrir greyback's attacks had gotten more extreme and the task of covering up werewolf involved murders was not an easy one. And the death eater's use of National Magic was affecting all of the brits. Scott had been getting more (alcohol unrelated) headaches than ever and Wales' back was killing him. England, however, was taking the brunt of the situations. Every unforgivable curse was felt by him; this one was obviously an imperio curse.

"God, who are they using now? What poor muggle is about to drown himself or jump off a building? God Damn!" He stood up suddenly, looking around with a slightly crazed expression "I can't do this anymore! I have to do something, stop them anything!" England rushed towards the front door, but was tackled by Scott.

"Oh no you don't! We don't need a paralyzed nation, who'd do your work for you?"

England struggled against his brother but went limp in despair.

"It's useless. I can't do anything without risking everything and… uh…oh dear lord no no no!" He managed to free himself from Scotland's grip and rush to the bathroom before violently throwing up in the toilet.

"Artie?" Scott stood outside the room, not wanting to know what exactly had happened.

"A- a whole… oh God. Scotland they, they- a whole family! Lord no, no…" He moaned, coming out of the room, leaning heavily against the wall, "Christmas eve, the children! They- knives! I saw it, all of it… just just make it end, oh God, make it end!"

Arthur fell to the ground, sobbing, then the sobs turned to coughing and hacking. The thick red stained phlegm came up, soiling the sleeves of Arthur's robe. More came and his body shuddered as the death eaters'cast a killing curse on the family's neighbors who had come to investigate the strange noises.

Then, silence. He sat there, slumped against the wall for a long time, staring at the drying blood on his palms. Scotland sat with him, saying nothing. Wales eventually brought a tray of tea and, after exchanging a look with Scotland, left it on the ground and went off to tuck the boys into bed. Scott looked at his seemingly mute brother nation with an expression of pity and worry.

"Haha!" England broke the silence with a dark, bitter laugh, glaring at the wall, "Hahaha! A Merry Christmas indeed!" He spat to the side, a new red stain for the carpet, "Enjoy it now you sick monsters,"

the air seemed to freeze around them as England clenched his fists and growled out his next words in the ominous, venom filled tone Scott had only heard him use once before, "Because as soon as Harry realizes his powers, I'll personally assure that he uses them to send you all direct to Hell."